Chapter Six

Her parents were thankfully doing okay.

That was the headline Taryn took away from every FaceTime call she had with the two of them, multiple times a week. It gave her peace of mind to see them bustling around the house, bickering about dinner plans, and acting like every decision of hers belonged to the group for discussion.

"Are you getting enough nutrients, though?" her mother asked for the hundredth time since Taryn had arrived at Hillspoint. "You never pay much attention to what you're consuming, and you need to take care of your body, or you'll simply shrivel up like a college-aged raisin. Is that what you want?"

"I had an omelet for lunch at the dining hall and so far no shriveling. I keep checking, too. Just waiting for bam, raisin status. But nothing. It's weird."

"Still have your same sense of humor, I see. One omelet on its own is not enough."

"I'll have three next time. Maybe four." She offered a cheeky smile.

"Thank you. A side of fruit will do." Her mother's face filled the screen as she leaned in, reminding Taryn of one of those fun house mirrors. "You never know who you might have to fight late at night in a parking lot. Do you have plans tonight? Take your pepper spray. I'm dead serious."

"Later on tonight, I'm getting together with Charlie. I'm not going to pepper-spray her, though. It's rude."

"Your old sitter?" her dad asked.

"Remember I told you? She's a grad student here."

Her mom reclaimed the screen. "How is Charlotte?"

"She's a badass writer now. I just read a short story of hers and feel like I have offered very little to the world in comparison. She's so talented, Mom."

She saw the corner of her dad's face edge in. "Ronnie's daughter, right?"

Taryn tensed at the mention of the man's name. She'd still not gotten past what she'd learned about him from Charlie. In fact, it kept her up half the night prior. "That's the one."

"I wonder how he's doing. I heard they divorced."

"I heard he went to jail for assault at one point. Charlie doesn't really talk to him these days."

Her father's smile faded. "He always did run a bit hot when things didn't go his way."

"Sounds like more than that, Dad."

"Is that what she said?" her mother asked, clearly not liking the implication. Her parents were pushy, but in a good way.

"With a few more unfortunate details. I hope I handled the situation correctly."

She watched her mom's features soften. "You're a good person, Tare. I know you did. Be her friend. It's the best thing you can do for another human."

"Working on it. Trying to find the right mix of available but not annoying."

"You'll get there," her mom said.

There was a lull at that point. The awful topic seemed to have left all three of them grappling for conversation.

"So…how's being gay?" her dad asked.

She laughed. "Wow. Thank you for asking." She exhaled into sincerity. "It feels good to just be myself. Not that I'm a practicing lesbian."

"Yet," he said with a great deal of enthusiasm.

Her mother was a little more timid on the subject, which was interesting because there was rarely anything timid about her. Taryn remembered her mom's reaction to first learning Taryn was attracted to women.

She'd been sitting on their green couch, clutching a throw pillow to her chest tightly. "I love you so much. I just don't want anyone to ever hurt you or say anything unkind. I will tackle them like a linebacker and beat them with my Lillian Vernon bag. I swear to God, Taryn, I will do it. I might go to jail."

"But that's your favorite bag," Taryn had said and patted her mom's knee. "Pick a different one for the beating, okay?"

"I just want the world for you, Tare-Bear, and if there's a woman holding your hand through it rather than a man, that's every bit as wonderful. But I just pray she likes our Frito Pie Sundays because who doesn't?" Her mom seemed genuinely concerned about Frito Pie popularity.

"I'm sure she will, Mom, whoever she is." Taryn had sighed. "First, I have to work up the courage to announce myself to the lesbian and bisexual population of the world." It had taken her years to even get to this point.

"You take your time," her father had said from his spot in the entryway. He was more of a lingerer than a full conversation joiner, preferring to shout things and retreat. "You have a clean slate coming up when you head to Hillspoint. That's the best thing about college. You get to start all over."

"Yeah. I'm really looking forward to that part of things. Being me. No hiding."

That had been months ago, and Taryn now lived as a happy young gay, very much looking forward to gay life, gay kissing, and allowing herself to feel all the gay things without guilt or shame. So far, so good. She was more than ready for the next step, which was someone potentially to share it with. She'd kissed exactly four people in high school and only one of them had been female. Bianca Mack. They'd first kissed just outside the gym door fifteen minutes after school got out for the day. Bianca had flirted with her countless times, and Taryn finally shut off her brain and took the leap. It had been fun sneaking around for a bit, but in the end, Taryn grew tired of Bianca smoking weed all weekend, and Bianca thought Taryn had weird taste in everything down to licorice flavors. So they'd let things between them fade without anyone ever knowing they were fooling around. Yet Taryn couldn't help but wonder what an actual relationship would be like with someone she was compatible with. Would she count the minutes until she could see her again? Get nervous, excited, and extra-talkative in her presence? Would Taryn be an affectionate partner? A romantic? She had a feeling all of those things would prove to be true and looked forward to finding out.

"I've not really found anyone I'm interested in at this point, but there's still time in the semester to maybe dip my toe in."

Her dad popped back onscreen. "Try one of those apps on all the commercials. Guppies in the Lake. Something like that."

"Minnows Abound," her mother chimed in with a laugh.

"Sharks in a Pond," her dad countered.

"Thanks, you two. I'll see how I do on marine-inspired dating apps."

Her mother blew a kiss to the screen. "Love you, Tare-Bear. You're our gift and don't you forget it. I'm gonna send you a striped sweater I saw on Amazon that is very you."

"And I'm not the least bit terrified. I love you guys. Dad, take care of yourself, please."

He offered a salute. "Doc says I'm close to fighting shape. You'll be surprised when you see me again."

"I don't doubt it."

They said their good-byes, and Taryn slid off the call, leaning back against her headboard, phone pressed to her chest. It always took her a minute to disconnect from her world back home and float into the present again.

While it was hard being away after having experienced so much with her family in the last two and a half years, the near-daily conversations with her parents kept Taryn going and reassured her that they were both doing okay without her.

She exhaled slowly and allowed herself to look forward to the next part of her night. She checked the clock again. Charlie would be getting off from the library about now, which meant she should head over to her apartment in about twenty minutes. Nervous energy zigged and zagged. An extra hit of exhilaration threaded itself on a needle and wove through her system.

"You're smiling," Caz said when she poked her head into Taryn's bedroom. "Want to hit up Toby's for a pool tournament with the fourth floor? I suck but they don't need to know that."

Any other night and she would have been down. But canceling on Charlie was not exactly in her DNA. "I have important plans," she said with a wince. "Sorry."

"Is it a date? Is that why you're grinning?" Caz asked, coming fully into her room and plopping down on Taryn's bed like it was hers. Taryn loved that.

"Nope. Late night dinner with Charlie. She just got off."

"I see now. It's all becoming clear," Caz said with a shoulder shimmy. "Maybe you could get her off, too. If ya know what I mean. What?" She looked around the room. "Who would say something like that? Oh, right. Me. I would."

Taryn stared her friend down and shook her head. But in spite of the jokes, Caz was proving to be a decent sounding board. Her advice was always measured and mature. "Here's the thing. I need to talk this out a minute before I head over there. Can you help?"

Caz's eyes went wide and she popped to her feet. "I'm so ready. Born for this. Go." She placed her hands on her hips and proceeded to pace the room in listening mode.

"I love spending time with Charlie, but she treats me like one of her best girlfriends. She asked me how her boobs looked in a dress at the mall and circles her arm through mine when we walk, like we're two really chummy gals about town."

Caz paused her walk, whirled on Taryn, and pointed. "And that's not where you are at all. You don't want to be her chum!"

"No! It's so not a mirror of the urges I'm feeling, which—I might add—are beyond the scope of real possibility. I'm not delusional."

"Because you're still convinced she's straight."

"All signals lead there. But there's this tiny little what-if that's sneaking up the back of my spine based on a couple of our interactions."

"Like?"

"Prolonged, meaningful eye contact."

"Fuck. That's a buying sign."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Taryn said, pointing at her. "But there's also been moments where I wondered if she'd been checking me out."

"Double fuck."

"I know. And if it's not a figment of my imagination, I want to make sure she has me in the correct box."

Caz shrugged like she'd just been asked a ridiculously easy math problem. "Then you gotta paint the box in red for her so there's no mistaking it."

"I don't know how to highlight the box."

"Kissing her face off might offer clarity," Caz said, dropping her hands.

Taryn closed her eyes. The suggestion was so far from plausible but, at the same time, offered up a visual that turned her the hell on. Not exactly helpful. "I appreciate the advice. I will work on ways to paint the damn box red."

"Have it your way, but will you keep me updated?" Caz asked in a much more sincere tone. "I know I'm a sarcastic ass sometimes, but I really do think you're rad and want to help in any way I can." She offered her fist up for a bump, which Taryn took her up on.

"I think you're awesome, too. Thanks, Caz. Beat everyone at pool."

"From your adorably full lips."

Half an hour later, when she arrived at the navy and white Sailor's Sound apartment complex, Taryn had made the decision that she simply had to loosen up around Charlie and show more of who she actually was. Honesty was best.

When Charlie answered the door in a pair of gray joggers and a gray and black snuggly hoodie, Taryn melted. She looked both soft and hot, and the combination sang the song of sexy to Taryn's heart. The way strands of blond hair fell out of Charlie's ponytail and framed her face made Taryn want to stand there and admire her forever. Luckily, her social skills overrode her cartoonlike longing.

Taryn gestured to Charlie's outfit. "You're already changed and much more comfortable than I am. I missed the memo. Boring jeans. So many regrets."

"Not at all boring." Charlie sent her a smile that could calm any storm and tilted her head. "Also, one can't cook unless one is relaxed. The food simply wouldn't taste good." That's when the aromas wafted onto the porch. Something savory and amazing was sizzling on the stove a few yards behind Charlie. "On that note, get in here. I gotta get back to my pans." Charlie grabbed Taryn by the front of her shirt and tugged her inside.

"You know how to welcome a person."

"Would you like a drink?" Charlie winced. "But go easy. I can't tuck you in tonight." She tossed in a playful wink.

"A soda would be fine. I'm only an occasional drinker, as probably evidenced by how hard it hit me that night."

"Wise." Charlie opened her fridge and presented her soft drink options, to which Taryn grabbed a can of Sprite and poured it into the iced glass Charlie provided on the spot. "Sauce on top of the chicken and pasta or on the side?"

Taryn stared at her. "On top. I'm not a monster."

That scored a laugh. "My kind of girl. Not that I would have judged otherwise." Charlie ladled the sauce and held their plates in her hands. "How do you feel about a coffee table picnic?"

"I'm intrigued."

"Just a more relaxed approach to midnight dinners. Follow me. I'll teach you my ways."

Taryn did, taking a seat on the carpet, catty-corner from Charlie. Their plates were placed on the coffee table, which turned out to be the perfect dining height. Who knew? Taryn didn't mind the cozy, comfortable setup in the slightest. Nor did she mind the food. After one bite, she turned to Charlie, fork in midair.

"You're not a culinary student, so explain yourself."

"Wow. A big compliment if I've ever heard one," Charlie said, covering her mouth as she chewed. "At least, I think. I'm learning to speak Taryn."

"You speak it just fine. You cook even better. Are you married? Because…" The words were out before Taryn had fully had a chance to okay them, and now there they were, floating around the room like a bubble about to pop.

"Shockingly, no. No one has proposed just yet. Writers are notoriously high-maintenance." Maybe it was the stressed look on Taryn's face that she couldn't quite smother. Maybe it was just Charlie's intuition. Either way, her smile faded to sincere. "So, do you date girls? I realize it's not something we've talked about."

"Yes," Taryn said, probably too quickly, her opportunity to spray-paint red all around that box. "I'm not exactly straight. At all."

"Cool. I didn't know." Charlie focused on cutting another bite of chicken. "Is this something you've newly discovered, or…" She paused, fork suspended in the air as she waited for Taryn's answer. Such a casual conversation about something Taryn had been overthinking unnecessarily for days.

"No. I've known I was a lesbian for years. Just hadn't looped other people in until more recently. So I guess you can consider yourself looped." Why was her heart pounding so loudly, and had Charlie noticed?

"I'm glad you're telling me. I hope I haven't made assumptions when we've talked." She frowned. "Straight shouldn't be the default. I'm sorry if I made it that way."

"No. But remember when you asked me how your boobs looked in the cocktail dress?"

"The perfect dress that you picked out? I do. I still owe you for that assist."

"That could have led to an awkward moment."

"Why? You don't like my boobs." Charlie flashed a dazzling smile that became a kind one. She covered Taryn's hand with hers. "I see your point, and I will refrain from putting you in any potentially uncomfortable scenarios about boobs."

"No, no. I didn't feel uncomfortable. I just want to make sure you're not uncomfortable, and that means all the cards on the table, and one of those cards is my sexuality. If you're going to ask a question about your boobs, I just want you to know who's answering. That's all."

Charlie nodded definitively. "I hear you, and I think it's really impressive that you're now your full self. I admire you. You're ahead of a lot of people at Hillspoint."

"I'm not," Taryn said flatly. "I'm wildly behind. Couldn't even go away to school, when it was all I wanted." Apparently, confessions were pouring out of her tonight.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked softly.

Taryn closed her eyes. "Everyone thinks I stayed in Dyer because my dad was recovering. The truth is that I backed out of school way before his hospitalization. I choked. I got cold feet, had trouble leaving my house for a period of time. It was all so overwhelming, and the idea of failure was…too much."

"Taryn." Charlie stopped eating entirely, her features soft and sympathetic. "What did it feel like?"

"Paralyzing. Like the world was crashing in on me." This wasn't something that she talked about much.

"It sounds to me like you were experiencing anxiety. You're not alone. Lots of people struggle."

"I use the words crippling fear, but yeah." She exhaled slowly. "I get in my own head and set it off, working on ways to overcome trepidation. That's why it's so ironic when people comment on my confidence. If they only knew."

"I think you can be both. Confident people can get scared."

Taryn turned the idea over in her mind. "I like that take."

"I believe it, just like I believe you're going to be okay, Taryn, and are to be admired for how far you've come."

"I still can't seem to find my way to the dining hall. That's why I'm eating dinner at midnight." She blinked, refusing to crack a smile.

Charlie laughed. "Your delivery kills me. You never break."

Taryn tossed Charlie a grin and raised a shoulder. "Yeah, well, your chicken marsala left me dead ten minutes ago. This whole conversation is from the beyond."

"Then cue my grief. I happen to like you."

God, this woman had eyes that sparkled when she enjoyed herself. Taryn had heard the descriptor before in books but had never actually witnessed sparkling eyes in real life until Charlotte Adler flipped her world on its head at the beginning of the semester.

"I like you, too. You cook me amazing floor food." She stole another bite and sank into the wonder response it pulled. Could she ask for a pint of this sauce to go? Would that be rude? She wanted to be invited back.

"I'd be happy to teach you a few cooking basics. You seem impressed, but I don't think you realize how simple this dish actually is. But I do like the fangirling." She made the keep-it-coming gesture.

"Is this offer you still taking care of me?"

"No. I have a feeling you're more than capable on your own these days."

Taryn rested her chin on her knee. "Now I'm blushing." The room was thick with tension. Taryn wasn't imagining it this time.

Charlie looked up from her plate as if she just had to see for herself. "You are. Look at you."

Were they flirting? God, she hoped so because this was so much fun. The ping-pong match helped Taryn relax. She was proud of herself for coming out to Charlie, and the reality had been so much more chill than what her imagination had conjured. Not a single stumble or awkward exchange. If anything, she wished she'd been open about her sexuality sooner.

"Tell me more. Are you seeing anyone?" Charlie asked. "What about the girl with the cat ears from the party? She was worried about you that night."

"Caz. She's my roommate and a good friend, but there's nothing romantic between us. I haven't dated anyone since coming to Hillspoint."

"No? I would think this would be your time to go kid-in-a-candy-store. Shall I fix you up?" Charlie asked with an arched brow.

"Yes. I'm taking any and all recommendations." So maybe they weren't flirting. Taryn didn't confess that the dynamic of her crush setting her up with someone else might feel like a letdown, but she was also determined to keep her mind open. Especially since Charlie was off the table.

"Tell me your type."

You. "Oh, um, can't. I don't have a type."

"Try."

"I like people who don't take themselves too seriously." She eased a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm into kindness when it's not mandated. They should probably understand the importance of a good binge-watching session on long weekends, and maybe visit the zoo on occasion for peace and because they love animals."

"Specific." Charlie nodded sagely. "What else?"

Taryn went up on her knees, energized, enjoying the game. "They don't like surprise parties and never loiter."

"Everyone hates pesky loiterers." Charlie nodded as if taking mental notes.

"They likely once played an instrument but don't have to anymore. Sleeping in the nude is always a plus."

"Now we're getting scandalous."

"Did I go too far?" Taryn asked.

"Not at all. Let me find you a binge-watching flute player who sleeps naked and visits the zoo without loitering there. Shouldn't be hard. I'll go through my phone and construct an extensive list."

Taryn laughed and placed a hand over her heart. "Please tell me you know that I'm joking."

"If you say so. I'm gonna binge-watch something mindless until I get sleepy. Hey, that's one of your qualifications. You in?"

"You've come to the right person," Taryn said, liking the extension of their time together. "My first class isn't until ten a.m. tomorrow."

Charlie's mouth fell open in outrage. "I miss undergrad life. I want you to revel in rolling out of bed in joggers and racing to class midmorning."

"It's a pretty nice life."

Charlie flipped on a medical drama Taryn was mildly familiar with. Within twenty minutes, she was hooked and snuggled up on the couch one cushion away from Charlie.

"Why is everyone acting like that doctor isn't ridiculously hot?" Taryn asked.

"Because in the medical field on television, everyone is either hot or on their way to being hot. See that woman? She'll be hot next season. They take turns."

"So intriguing."

The next thing Taryn knew, she was blinking sleepily into a dimly lit room. A strange room. Where in the world was she? Light slanted in through a window to her right, and it appeared she was on a couch covered in a wonderfully soft purple blanket. Who'd covered her with a blanket and was making coffee nearby? The aroma was from heaven. She stretched her limbs, feeling rested and satisfied.

"Sorry. I hope I didn't wake you. I'm teaching this morning and have to get out of here." Charlie. She was behind Taryn in the kitchen, packing up a black leather laptop bag. A turquoise thermos of coffee sat on the table.

"Did I fall asleep on your couch?" If Taryn wasn't so ridiculously comfortable, she would have had the decency to be mortified. "I really like it here. This is a good couch, Charlie."

"Thank you." Charlie walked over. "We both fell asleep, so I covered you up and snuck off to bed. You smiled and nodded when I told you what I was doing, so I figured you were okay with the crashing."

"Crashing? What are you talking about. I live here now." She offered a sleepy smile.

"I see you're playful even in the morning. Good to know. Would you like a black coffee?"

"Yes, please. But I'll get it." She pushed herself fully into a sitting position.

Charlie waved her off and poured the hot liquid into an oversized orange mug and presented it to her on the couch. "Cereal's in that cabinet, and milk is in the fridge. Help yourself and just press the lock when you leave. I gotta run." She placed a kiss on Taryn's head. "I like the bedhead. Adorable."

Taryn nodded numbly, a warm feeling infusing her chest. Everything felt homey here, and she liked it very much. She made sure to memorize Charlie leaving the apartment in black pants and a white blazer, which reminded Taryn that Charlie was teaching that morning. Now that was fun to think about. Taryn set her mug on the coffee table, fell back onto the couch, and tossed an arm over her head. Next, she let her imagination wander to Charlie walking across the front of a classroom in a position of authority. Lecturing. Gesturing with her hands while making one intelligent point after another. The fantasy was PG, but what it did to her body was anything but.

"Fucking hell," Taryn murmured and laughed. Because she and Charlie weren't going to ride off into any sunset together. It was fun to think about, though. In fact, she had a few extra minutes…