Looncalls on a Cliff at Midnight I'd been driving all day, or so it seemed. My eyes were heavy, and my limbs ached as I shifted my weight in the threadbare chair, trying to gain some semblance of comfort. I wasn't really paying attention to the television, only marginally aware of its quiet disturbance in the periphery of my battered attention. Behind me, a stone fireplace built from living rock dominated the western wall. A crackling fire held back the autumn chill, and battled the night that threatened to encroach through the uncovered windows of the small cottage. Around me, three other girls sprawled, probably equally tired by the long drive to get here. In front of the television, Heather lay on her front, her stocking feet idly swinging back and forth through the air. Anne sat easily on the carpet, her back against one of the large overstuffed sofas. And Michelle lay, her head cradled in the crook of her elbow, her hair spilling to the floor, as she mindlessly watched the flickering screen and its equally mindless images, eyes flipping back and forth over the screen. I sat near the fireplace in the old battered easy chair, my feet tucked under me to avoid the residual chill of the floor. "Ewwwwwwww!" I looked up sharply, cringing at the sudden pain in my neck as I did so. Michelle had cried out from where she lounged on the sofa across the room, her finger pointing towards the flickering television screen. My eyes followed her finger; I was dimly aware of the other girls shifting their eyes towards the scene played out. We'd already laughed about Ms. Stone's exhibitionism in the police station, her pussy exposing antics. My eyes widened as I watched the actress kiss her female lover deeply before staring down Michael Douglas. "How can she do that?" A flush rose into my cheeks, and I hoped that I'd been quick enough to force it back down. The girls were concentrating on the television anyway, Heather sipping at a glass of red wine. "Do what?" I asked, my voice small, already knowing and dreading the answer. Without even looking at me, Michelle answered, her voice dripping with disgust. "Kiss a girl. I mean, ewww. Now, if she'd kissed Michael Douglas ..." "... it wouldn't have been any prettier," Heather said easily from the floor. The girls, save for me, erupted in laughter. Suddenly, the room closed in on me, and I needed air. I swallowed heavily, my heart hammering in my chest. I pushed myself to my feet, and stumbled to the door. Clean, fresh, northern air waited for me on the other side, the scent of pine, perhaps the call of a lonely loon. I bent quickly and slipped on my runners. My name, called almost gently, stopped me. "Sharon?" I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, then turned, my hand gripping the doorknob, knuckles white. "Are you all right?" Michelle asked. The other two girls continued to laugh, watching Ms. Stone and the movie, ignoring me and my flight. I felt flushed and pale at the same time, my arms jittery. Michelle gazed at me, a puzzled look upon her face. "It was a long drive," I mumbled. "I just need some air." Michelle nodded, and stared at me for another minute. Her gaze seemed to rush through me like x-ray vision, dissecting me, and seeing my deepest, darkest secrets. When she finally turned her attention back to Heather and Anne, her mouth forming a quick smile again, I fled. Their voices rose as the narrowing beam of light behind the door faded. "... lesbo ... dyke ..." My chest constricted and for a moment, tears threatened. My stomach flipped and then settled again, but I remained bent, one arm clutched across my abdomen. I stood in the darkness for a few minutes, gathering my bearings. My other hand rested against the rough cedar of the siding. After a few minutes, the three quarter moon shed enough light for me to see as my eyes adapted, and I straightened, closing my eyes for a moment and listening to the nightsong of the insects. I inhaled deeply, the scent of pine and still water entering my lungs. Sweetness. I pushed the intruding thoughts and laughter from my mind, and stepped purposely away from the cabin, even as another round of laughter filtered through the thin walls. Beneath my feet, faintly seen gravel crunched, and crickets faded as I silently passed, a ghost in the night. <---===***===---> I knew the paths of the forest, even in the dark. I'd been here enough -- Michelle and I had practically grown up here. Heather and Anne were friends of Michelle, though where she'd met them, I didn't know -- probably in classes that Michelle and I didn't share. The sounds of the night ceased as I passed, only to begin again as my presence left the woods in peace. I slowly and carefully picked my way in the darkness. I could no longer hear the laughter of the girls back in the cabin, and if I pretended, it wouldn't be difficult to believe that I was the only girl on the face of the planet. Moonbeams lit my way through the forest until I stepped from the trees onto an outcropping of rock devoid of trees. The remains of a campfire, years abandoned, lay in the centre of the outcropping. Beyond, there was only a cliff and water perhaps fifteen metres below. I stopped near the abandoned campfire, the charcoal of ancient trees melding with the shadows of the night. Beyond, somewhere, hidden, the edge of the cliff lurked, tempting and beckoning. Taking each step with extreme care, I moved towards the edge. Out of the mists of darkness, the edge appeared, a knife of steel against my throat. Cautiously, I stepped forward until my toes stood touching the razor sharp edge, like a dart player about to toss a very dangerous dart. I gathered my breath, staring out. Moonlight glinted off ripples below me, so far below me. In the daylight, I could probably dive from here, terror grasping at my heart as I plunged downward into cold, clear water. In the darkness of night, I would certainly plunge into unseen crags of sandstone, breaking and drowning in a lake of anonymity. Inhaling sharply, I fought the desire to remove my clothing, tossing each article into the water so far below. Blouse. Jeans. Bra. Panties. Shoes. Socks. Even my meagre jewelry. I held up my left hand, twisting it slowly in front of my eyes. I stared at the the second finger from the left, my ring finger. Stifling a laugh, I bit at my lower lip. Ring finger? I would never wear a ring there. No, such were not for the likes of me. I shivered again, wrapping my arms under my breasts, hugging myself. I couldn't stop shivering, and it wasn't completely due to the sharp autumn air. It would be so easy. One step. Or simply lean forward. Without a run to give me momentum to hit the lake clear of the rocks, there would be no chance. So easy. My body swayed, the breeze lifting from the lake into my face, almost begging me to reconsider. I couldn't count the times that I'd stood here, at least in my own mind. Different. Alone. Tears flooded into my eyes, and I couldn't stop them from falling. I made no attempt at wiping them, simply letting them drop down my cheeks to fall downward, towards the darkened lake somewhere below my feet. After what seemed like a very long time, I felt my feet move, almost as if I were not in control of them. So damn easy. But I stepped back, away from the edge, tears still flooding down my cheeks. <---===***===---> The tears abated, though they did not stop completely. The crickets accompanied each other, and an irrational envy rose in my mind. I sat easily now, leaning back on my palms, sharp and rough sandstone pressing into my soft skin. I didn't care. My feet dangled over the edge, though I was safe enough in this position. The wind ruffled my hair, wrapping the occasional piece across my eyes. I absently pushed it away each time the wind toyed with my bangs, staring out across the water. <---===***===---> Somewhere, the lonely call of a loon echoed across the water, carrying with it a mournful emotion. I sighed, my eyes searching in vain for the shadow of the night bird. Again it called, searching for its mate, its call haunting and serene. I didn't know if the male or the female of the species called, but I suppose it didn't really matter. I wondered if its mate would still answer the call, whether that mate was male or female. Somewhere below, in the moonlight, I saw gentle movement. A large bird surfaced. For a moment, I nearly cried out, the shape of it reminding me of a monster, or a dragon. Its feathers glistened in the moonlight, water droplets reflecting the light like drops of rain. It seemed to look upwards, fixing me in its shiny eyes. It cocked its head, almost in a human fashion, as if to ask me why I was there. "I don't know," I whispered. "I don't really know." But I couldn't go back there. Of that, I was certain. Not until they'd all gone to bed, weary and perhaps drunk. Or at least not until that movie was over. Their voices and laughter floated through my memory, and I involuntarily cringed. The loon called again, and its voice washed over me. Tears welled and spilled again, my fingers digging into the cool stone under my palms. "I'm not for you," I whispered. The loon glanced at me, dismissing me as if my whisper confirmed what it already knew. Then it ducked, only ripples remaining where it had been. Later, I heard its call again, from a distance, and even though I didn't think I had any tears left, I did. <---===***===---> Her voice rode the breeze, filtering through the pines and the oaks like a tune carried from a far off stage. "Sharon! Sharon!" I bit at my lip, and kept silent, hoping that she wouldn't know where I was. Worse, I hoped that she didn't know why I'd come here. Truthfully, I'm not sure I knew either. I swung my legs over the lake far below, and debated pushing myself up. In the end, she found me. I heard her voice change from a searching cadence to one of mild confusion. "Sharon?" I didn't say anything. "Are you mad at us?" I tried to keep my voice light. "Mad at you? Why? I wasn't feeling well, and I needed some air." The loon called again, and I had to fight down the tears. I'd have a hell of a time explaining them to Michelle. I felt her approach, carefully, as I had earlier. No sense in falling off a cliff unless one intends to. Her fingers lightly touched my shoulder. "You're cold." I realised that I was shivering a little, and my teeth were clattering together. So consumed was I in my own misery that I had forgotten to bring a coat, and my blouse was light for the drive up here. I wrapped my arms around me, hugging. "Here," Michelle said. I felt a windbreaker drape over my shoulders. "You'll be cold," I said quietly, shrugging my shoulders. The jacket slipped off and over my hands. She picked it back up and wrapped it around me again. It wasn't much, but it seemed to reduce my shivering for a while. Michelle settled beside me, her thigh warm against mine. "We were worried about you." She wasn't looking at me, but out over the ripples on the lake. "I'm sorry. I needed some air." Michelle nodded. She sat up straighter, her hands twisting in her lap. "Why did you come here?" Michelle asked quietly. I shrugged, though I knew the answer. I could feel the tug of the tears again. "To be alone," I said slowly. As if I'd ever been anything but. Michelle pushed herself, as if to rise. I reached out and touched her shoulder. Her shoulder was warm and soft under her sweatshirt. I couldn't feel the indent of a brastrap. "Stay with me," I whispered. Michelle settled, and her fingers entwined with mine, easily, the touch of a friend. We sat for a while like that, staring out and listening to the loons. If she noticed me weeping, she didn't say. <---===***===---> Except near the brightness of the moon, the stars glittered across the sky in bands of pinpoints. In the city, one cannot ever see the majesty of the night sky, cannot appreciate the call of the loon, or the chirps of elated crickets. We are small, the universe impossibly large and complex. As I lay beside Michelle in the darkness, our hands barely touching, I understood that. Small and insignificant. And yet. And yet. I didn't feel insignificant. "There's another one," Michelle breathed. I made my silent wish, and swallowed. "You're supposed to wish on shooting stars," I whispered. I felt her nod, and whisper something that I couldn't hear, though I thought that I could hear my name upon her lips. While Michelle had never understood me, perhaps she was wishing that she did. We lay there, perhaps an hour, until the roughness of the stone beneath my hair began to ache. After the last shooting star appeared, Michelle pushed herself up, wrapping her arms about herself, shivering. "It's past midnight," she said. I didn't want to leave, but I, too, pushed myself up into a sitting position, crosslegged on the outcropping of rock. I offered the jacket back to Michelle. She sat like I did, a silhouette of femininity beside the remnants of the fire. Something inside me tugged, and I forced it back down. Had to. She shook her head and rose to her feet in one fluid motion, like an ancient tiger. Extending her hand, I grasped it and pulled myself up, limbs aching worse than they had before. I stumbled, and she steadied me with one light hand upon my upper arm. Her fingers were cool through my blouse, but warm at the same time. Before I knew what was happening, her fingers had grasped my cheeks lightly, tilting my head. I thought for a moment that she was going to kiss me, and I nearly backed away, but then her lips slipped to the side, and she pecked me on the cheek. I let my breath out in one great whoosh. "Everything okay, now?" she asked. I'd never admitted that I was here with purpose, or that something was bothering me. I'm not even sure that I had admitted such to myself. Dumbly, my cheek burning where she'd kissed me, I nodded. "Everything is fine." She smiled, and held out her hand. Without thinking, I grasped her fingers lightly, and we began to move through the midnight air back towards the cabin. <---===***===---> Heather and Anne had retired into separate bedrooms somewhere in the cabin. One empty glass of wine stood sentinel on the floor beside the chair. The television and its glimpses into other realms stood silently dark on its stand. I slipped off my runners, and my feet sighed. I followed Michelle into the left wing of the cottage where the sunlight wouldn't wake us until noon. My toes struck something hidden in the dark and I stifled a groan. I reached my door, and paused, hand resting easily on the brass knob. I turned to follow Michelle's form as she padded to the room situated at the end of the hall. She paused, turning to face me. For a moment, I was sure that she was going to say something, but it was only the set of her body. I couldn't see her face in the darkness. "Well," she said slowly. "Good-night, Sharon." I licked my lips, wanting to say something more, but there was no way. Michelle couldn't understand. "Good-night, Michelle." Michelle turned and slipped into her room. "Sleep well," I whispered. <---===***===---> A sharp noise pulled me from a dream of bare skin and loon calls. Disoriented, I glanced around the room, blinking, pressing my lips together to prevent a scream. There is dimness, and there is darkness. Dimness is what one experiences in the average city room, streetlamps and moonlight filtering through drawn drapes. Dimness, human eyes can adjust to. Darkness, here, isn't like that, but rather encompasses one like a lover, deep and complete. I was cold. At some point in the night, I had thrown off the sheets, only my thin nightgown protecting me from the autumn chill. If I could have seen, my breath was probably pluming in steam clouds from between my lips, my lungs fighting the surge of adrenaline. I swallowed, and tried to breathe through my nose, ears straining at the darkness. The noise reappeared, and suddenly, I remembered where I was, despite the darkness. I reached down, fumbling for the coverlet that served as my protection from the night chill, drawing it up and over myself. Inexplicably, I wished that I had worn my clothes to bed instead of changing into sleeping attire. My toes felt numb. "Who is it?" I whispered, completely unsure if my voice would travel through the door. I envisioned some crazed sex offender finding four college girls in the middle of nowhere. Two problems with that. It was a city thought and even with my sleep-numbed mind I realised that a guy intent on raping me wasn't likely to knock and announce his plans. So it wasn't really a surprise when Michelle answered, her voice low and barely audible. "It's Michelle, are you awake?" I sighed. "I am now," I said a little louder. "Come in." I heard the door open, and then close, then a presence walking across the floorboards to settle beside me, the bed creaking with her weight. As she stumbled in the darkness, she reached down, probably to determine where the bed was before walking into it. Her fingers brushed across my breast, pulling away quickly, though I doubt if Michelle knew where her fingers had fallen. I didn't mention it, only shifted to give her room. "What's wrong?" I asked. I listened to her breathing for a moment. She wasn't crying, and didn't seem overly upset. "I couldn't sleep," she finally said. Her weight shifted as she twisted. My heart began to speed up. "You want to sleep here? Share our heat?" For a moment, I wasn't sure what she'd say, or if she'd assume something that I honestly hadn't meant. She was silent for a few more minutes, and my head ached, silently cursing myself. "Do you want to warm up in the Jacuzzi?" she said, a voice almost disembodied from the world. "Michelle, it's probably three in the morning." My eyes felt as if sand had been rubbed under the lids. "Three-thirty actually," she said. She pushed herself to her feet. I sensed her shivering beside the bed. "Nevermind. Stupid idea. Go back to sleep." I heard her move towards the door, my heart still hammering in my chest. Hot tub? At three-thirty in the morning? My door opened somewhere about a million miles from where I lay, pausing as a feminine shape briefly silhouetted in darkness more complete than dimness. I rubbed at my eyes, sleep dust scratching. Freezing cold air kissed me as I threw back the comforter. "Michelle, wait," I called softly. <---===***===---> Steam rose like tendrils of fog above an ocean, rising into the night air without thought or substance. My breath plumed from between my lips, my feet shivering against the rough boards of the decking. I wrapped my arms about me, hugging myself, trying to ward off sleepiness and the frigid atmosphere. Michelle stood in flannel pyjamas, her feet as bare as mine, tucking the brown insulated covering into its holder. In a few hours, this deck would be bathed in sunlight instead of the moonlight that reflected in ghostly bands from her shining brunette hair. I gasped, and forced my eyes from her, shivering again, not only from the cold. I spoke towards the trees. "I didn't bring a swimsuit. October isn't normally swimming weather up here," I murmured. "Do you have something that I've never seen?" Michelle asked, the faint hint of teasing in her voice. "A penis, for instance?" Slowly, I turned back towards the Jacuzzi. Michelle must have triggered some unseen switch. Jets swirled around, and bubbles joined the steam like an angry sea. "I don't have a swimsuit here, either," Michelle whispered. I lifted my eyes to catch her pulling her pyjamas over her head in one fluid motion. Without pausing, she pushed the bottoms over her smooth legs to pool around her ankles. I looked away quickly, my heart pounding blood through my being. I could hear my pulse beating in my ears. When I looked back at her, she had neatly folded her clothing and stood nude, her head tilted to the side. She set her pyjamas onto a chair, and stepped towards me. I couldn't speak. Her skin shone in the moonlight. Suddenly, she was in front of me, her fingers grasping my satin gown. I shifted uncomfortably. "Shy?" she said, tugging gently. I shook my head. "Michelle, this isn't a good idea. Not for me. You don't understand." She shrugged easily. "I might know more than you think," she said. "Sometimes wishes come true." I swallowed and closed my eyes and raised my arms. The whisper of the satin lifting over my head and kissing me sent more shivers down my spine than any autumn night could have done alone. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart, insistent and close, merging with the faint hum of water quietly splashing. <---===***===---> I stood and watched as Michelle lowered herself into the tub, her nudity disappearing beneath the surface, only hints of her bare skin rising up in refractive teases. Only barely aware of my now uncontrollable shivering, I watched as she turned and grinned at me with a sigh of comfort. She raised her eyebrows. I glanced down, flushed, following the direction of her gaze, knowing that she was staring at my bare breasts. With a start of surprise, I pulled my hands from where they covered my nipples, unaware that they'd risen in a false or perhaps automatic gesture of modesty. Michelle laughed. "See," she said, "you don't have anything that I don't have." She paused for a minute. The blood beat a steady timpani in my ears. "Aren't you cold?" Dumbly, I nodded. It was a bad idea. That much I knew for certain, but the water looked warm and inviting. So did Michelle. I shook the thoughts from my mind with an internal savagery. I swallowed, and quickly stepped towards the edge of the tub. Michelle lay back under the jets, watching me approach. <---===***===---> It's strange really. We feel not so much the water itself, but the difference in temperature between air and water. I hissed as I stepped into the hot tub across from Michelle, the water engulfing my skin like a million warm feathers. I gasped again as my groin passed that temperature threshold, and then quickly lowered myself into the sloping seat, extending my legs. My toes touched Michelle's calf, and I pulled away. As far as I could tell, she didn't notice, or care. She sat, as I, across from me, her head tilted back, her brunette hair gathered about her shoulders, the ends wet, her eyes closed. I mimicked her, closing my eyes, and tilting my head back. I didn't want to fall asleep, as much as the rest of my body was demanding it. I think I might have failed in that. The water lulled me, gathering me and caressing my skin like a million soft fingers. I was warm, and comfortable. I sighed, and watched helplessly as darkness, not dimness, descended. <---===***===---> Her fingers woke me, but I didn't open my eyes at first. Light as a breath of spring breeze, her fingertips trailed over my breasts, touching exploring. Lightly, she grasped my nipples, not twisting, not tugging, only flitting over them like kisses. My heart began to beat faster, the familiar pulse of arousal thumping in my ears. Only a dream. It had to be a dream. Her touches trailed down my body, bumping over my belly button, lazy circles. Between my legs, touching, exploring, parting me. Beneath the waves, thrusting into me, cupping me. Only a dream. It had to be a dream. So real. I moaned, my own voice surprising me, low and feminine and guttural. My hips rocked forward, pushing towards the maddeningly teasing fingers. At the motion of my body, the fingers receded, and I groaned, disappointment and relief mixing together in a strange swirl of emotion. After a moment, I opened my eyes. Stars twinkled above me. Insignificant. Small. But I wasn't. The pounding in my ears attested to that. I began to lower my eyes from the black sky, raising my head, fully expecting to see Michelle, as I, enjoying the night, perhaps lightly dozing on the other side of the tub. <---===***===---> Her face hovered in front of me, impossibly beautiful, radiant in moonlight. I gasped, and she lifted one finger, perhaps the same one that had touched me so intimately, to my lips, shushing me. I swallowed, wanting to ask a million questions, the water swirling about my skin, replacing the dreamy fingers of moments before. "Shhhhh," Michelle whispered. I closed my eyes again. When she kissed me, I thought I was going to faint. Her lips, soft and yielding and close and real, her tongue flicking across my lips, wanting more, demanding more. I parted my lips slowly under her mouth, and moaned. <---===***===---> Somewhere, a loon cried, its voice echoing across the lake, and filling my senses. Had the night bird found its mate? I didn't know. It called once more as Michelle's fingers found me again, even while we kissed, thrusting into me, teasing me, driving me perfectly towards a release that I didn't even know that I had needed. <---===***===---> Blue light rose up inside my mind, filling me as Michelle's fingers filled me, relentlessly driving me towards the edge of a cliff, one that was safe, one that wouldn't smash my body against rocks as I tumbled over. I cried out, my voice muffled by her mouth, my back arching away from the hard plastic of the tub, clenching, aching, clenching again. And again, somewhere, the loon cried out my name across the emptiness. Looncalls. <---===***===---> Michelle lay back against the opposite side of the tub, head tilted back, arms askance, like a dove lightly gripping the edge of the enclosure. Her bare chest rose and fell rapidly, a radiant flush gracing her cheeks and the tops of her breasts. She whispered something towards the night sky, something that I couldn't quite hear, like a prayer. Beneath the surface of the turbulent water, my fingers moved, the moonlight refracting through the waves so that my flesh seemed broken and jagged. My fingers: inside of her, intimate and warm, beneath the waves of a thousand oceans, primal. Gently, I raised my hands, gazing at them in wonder, drops of water falling like rain back into the ocean. I touched my lips. I'd kissed her. Michelle. Perhaps it was illusion, my fingers could not have maintained any of her essence beneath the water, but I fancied that I might have detected her still upon me. I closed my eyes, seeing her, naked, touching me, touching her, senses reeling. I leaned back myself, extending my legs. Under the surface of the water, my toes touched her calf. This time, I didn't withdraw, and Michelle made no movement suggesting that the touch was unwelcome. I lay back my head, sighing into the night sky. The tips of my hair floated easily by my submerged shoulders. The loons were silent, now, and the soft rasping of Michelle's breathing and the constant hum of the water were the only sounds in the silence. <---===***===---> I blinked, completely disoriented. Warmth, like a lover's breath, tickled my bare body up and down from my toes to my shoulders. I became aware of a presence across from me, and the night came flooding back. Cold air caressed my face. Over the tops of the trees, the faint light of dawn broke, illuminating Michelle sleeping peacefully across from me like a spotlight on an angel. Her breathing had returned to normal, her hands dropped under the warmth of the water that surrounded us. I blinked again, and pushed myself up. I fumbled along the edge of the tub until I found the indent that marked the pump switch. Pressing it lightly, the turbulence ceased in a flash of silence. Michelle stirred but didn't wake. I floated across the rapidly stilling water, until I rested comfortably beside the naked girl. I touched her shoulder, and she mumbled something incoherent. "It's dawn, Michelle. We have to go in." Or at least I did. Much as I didn't mind being naked, for some reason, I didn't want Heather and Anne to discover the two of us unclothed in the hot tub at dawn. My body ached, and even if we might have been able to explain it, I didn't think the other two girls would have bought it. Michelle murmured something again, turning away from me. Gently, I shook her shoulder, shivering as I touched her bare skin under the water. She shifted, and her eyes opened. For a moment, I thought she was going to scream, but perhaps it was only my fear. Instead, she smiled warmly upon seeing my face as she woke. "Good morning," she whispered. <---===***===---> I watched her as she disappeared before me into the cabin, damp footprints dotting the deck in the early morning sunlight. The door closed with a bang, leaving me alone and shivering, my arms wrapped under my breasts, my fingers grasping damp white satin that tickled my ribs. My breath plumed from between my lips, rising like the steam from the hot tub. Through the trees, I watched the twinkling waves where the cool waters of the lake met the shore. A dark shape surfaced. The loon seemed to glance towards the cabin with an expression of divine curiosity upon its beak. For a moment, I was sure that it would call to me once more before I retreated into the cabin. But it didn't. The loon glanced at me, cocked its avian head to the side, then ducked beneath the surface of the lake without so much as a splash. I smiled, and turned, my bare feet leaving new wet prints as I pushed open the door. <---===***===---> I followed Michelle's footprints through the cottage. They led me to the small bathroom. I knocked, and slipped through the door when no answering whisper was forthcoming. The bathroom was empty, except for me. I wondered where Michelle had gone. Probably back to bed. I stood in front of the mirror, still shivering nearly uncontrollably. Holding up my hands, I smiled. My fingers were indented with pruned ridges as deep and long as the Appalachians. Without conscious thought, I grabbed a dry towel and passed it over my skin until the worst of the moisture was gone. Then I stared at myself in the mirror. What the hell had happened last night? How? Why? I didn't know the answers, but suddenly I was aware that my shivering wasn't only due to the cold. I closed my eyes and wrapped my nudity in the towel, tucking the end between my breasts. I didn't feel like wearing the nightgown any longer. Sleep. That's what I needed. Sleep. I slipped out into the hallway. <---===***===---> I paused at my door, hand resting lightly on the knob. I stared down the hall, at Michelle's closed doorway. It seemed like the door to a vault, one I didn't know the combination to. With a sigh, I turned the knob, and stepped into my room. Something moved near the dresser, and my earlier fears of rapists in the night flooded into me. I screamed before I could stop myself, my hands lifting to my lips and clamping my teeth together. "It's only me. I'm sorry," Michelle whispered. I lowered my hands, shaking again, adrenaline flooding into my bloodstream. "Christ," I murmured. "You scared me." Michelle pushed herself out of the chair, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry," she said. "I should go anyway. I need sleep." I gathered in my breath as I settled onto the bed, pressing my legs together under the inadequate covering of the towel. I closed my eyes. "Stay? Please?" I heard her pause in her flight for the door. After what seemed like years, she returned to the chair and I heard it creaking as she lowered herself back in. <---===***===---> She watched me with a bemused expression as I carefully dropped the towel to the floor. The covers tucked under my chin, and I squirmed against the cold sheets. "What?" I asked. "You're naked under there." I wasn't sure what to make of that, so I pressed my lips together and nodded. Yes, I was naked, and she'd seen me like this earlier -- it wasn't as if I had anything to hide. Nevertheless, I was suddenly glad of the covers. My hair trembled in my peripheral vision. Michelle sat in the chair, her hands lightly in her lap. She was dressed in her flannel pyjamas, and her brunette locks were still damp as they kissed her shoulders. Her feet were tucked under her, probably in an effort to avoid the cold floor. I closed my eyes, the graininess of the demand for more sleep heavily upon me. "Michelle?" I murmured into the darkness. "Hmmmmm." I wasn't sure that I wanted to know. In fact, I was pretty sure that I didn't. But I asked anyway. "Why?" <---===***===---> Michelle didn't try to pretend that she didn't understand the question. She steepled her fingers under her chin, and watched the floor. Even in the darkness, I could see her tremble, though if it was the cold or something more, I wasn't sure. "I don't know," she whispered. "I really don't." I licked my lips, though with her eyes watching the floor, she wouldn't have seen it. "But the movie ..." I said. Michelle looked up then, and sighed. "The one you ran out on?" I flushed. I shouldn't have done that -- run out like that. It was like branding me, and running away from myself at the same time. I swallowed, and closed my eyes. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded bitter with an uncanny echo of Michelle's own voice. "Ewwwww. Two girls? Kissing?" My stomach felt like it was going to turn into itself. Michelle remained silent, and when I opened my eyes, she was staring at the floor again. "You know who I am, don't you?" I said slowly, my voice swallowed by the room. "Or you do, now." Michelle nodded in the darkness. I thought I heard a soft sob, and I suddenly wanted to ease out of the bed and hold her. But that was dangerous, wasn't it? I remained tucked under the sheets. Her voice was softer now, barely reaching across the short distance between us. "I really don't know, Sharon. I don't know why I said that, and I don't know why this happened. I. I think. I think that I might be falling in love." That hit me like a hammer, right where my ribs join over my heart. I stayed silent, stunned. "Why?" Michelle asked, lifting her eyes again. I could see dampness near her eyelids, perhaps leaking down her cheeks. "Why do I like girls?" I asked, my heart hammering in my ears. Michelle shook her head. After last night, the hot tub, maybe she'd come to her own conclusions about that, but I doubted that she'd be right. Didn't matter. "Why did you run out?" she asked. <---===***===---> It was a long time before I answered her. Thoughts of the moonlit cliff, the lonely loons, and standing at the precipice of the world deciding my own fate filtered through my tired head. Michelle sat shivering in that chair watching me, but never once cleared her throat, or shifted her weight. She watched me, patiently waiting. I felt the tears well up in my eyes, and I fervently wished that I stood on that cliff listening to the loons, naked and stepping off into the black void, uncaring and serene. Perhaps I was there, even while I lay naked and warm beneath the covers. "Alone," I whispered. "I'm destined to be alone, like the loons." As if to confirm my statement, the faint cry of the night bird edged through the thin cabin walls. I sensed her presence in the darkness, and then her weight settling to the bed beside me. This time, her fingers didn't touch me. "You're not alone, now," she said. <---===***===---> The second time was easier than the first, more gentle, less rushed. Her fingers slid over my bare skin like feathers, teasing and light. Nipples. Thighs. Her tongue, touching me where I'd never even hoped to be touched, sent electric shivers through me. She knew me, even as she couldn't. Her body beneath the covers with me smelled clean and soft, her skin like velvet when I touched her. The blue light welled up again, though this time it was like a gentle wave under a spring rain, not insistent and bone crushing like the tsunami earlier. Her fingers worked as mine did, in her, in me. She climaxed with me, her voice sounding lost and lonely as she cried out. And somewhere, the looncall floated amongst us, exhausted, confused, but happy and satiated at last. <---===***===---> I awakened disoriented. An arm lay across my chest, a hand that was not my own cupping my right breast gently. The girl beside me snored softly, her face turned towards mine, eyes closed in peaceful exhaustion. Light footsteps, probably the other girls, reverberated through the cabin. The night flooded back into me, and I smiled. I turned my head, careful not to wake Michelle. The clock told me that it was far later than I expected, closing in on noon. Carefully, I eased out from under Michelle, and tucked the blankets back around her. She shifted in her sleep, but didn't wake. I pulled on a pair of blue jeans, and a sweatshirt, not bothering with underwear. Socks followed, and I slipped out with only a quick glance at the girl that still graced my bed. My heart ached at the sight of her peacefully sleeping. I didn't want to leave her, but I knew I had to. Heather and Anne sat quietly talking at the kitchen table, Anne reading a newspaper section. Where she got it, I have no idea. "Good morning sleepy-head," Heather called out. I grunted, and rummaged in the refrigerator for something to eat. We'd brought muffins, and I palmed one as I straightened. "Sleep well?" I yawned and turned towards the girls. Both of them were looking at me curiously. I glanced down, wondering if I'd forgotten to dress. I touched my cheek. Their eyes accused me, but of what I had no idea. "Not enough sleep," I said. "Unfamiliar bed, I guess." Heather made some comment in agreement, but she looked far more rested than I felt. "I'm going to the cliff," I announced. I bent to pull on my shoes. Anne smiled, and for a moment, I thought that she might know. But she didn't. "Have fun." I slipped out, leaving the warmer cabin for the cooler paths. My breath plumed in the autumn air, the sky blue and clear above me. Leaves crackled under my feet as I walked. <---===***===---> In the distance, an island jutted from the calm surface of the lake, a submarine or a whale lifting itself from the gentle mists that rose from the warmer waters. A lone tree, wind blown but proud struggled against the elements, demanding life, reaching towards a sky that seemed so far away. Between my knees, I could see similar, though less lonely, trees growing from the living rock of the shield. Beyond, sharp rocks peppered the shoreline, waiting to grasp and pound human fragility. I sat quietly, watching the world below, my feet gently swinging through the cold air. I hesitated before biting into my muffin, another taste, sweet and musky -- Michelle -- still coating my lips. I didn't want to lose that sensation, but in the end, hunger won, and the soft sweetness of the muffin flooded my mouth, replacing the gentle taste of the previous night. The island didn't move off shore, but the tree that demanded life upon its rocky surface seemed to smile and wave to me. Despite myself, I smiled back. <---===***===---> I heard her footsteps rustling dry leaves and pine needles as she approached. I didn't turn, not sure if I could, at least without crying. I knew why she was here -- I was expecting her. I fought back tears. Crying wouldn't make her change her mind, only make things more awkward. Even while I understood why she was going to leave me, at least she was kind enough to tell me. She'd come, after all. Truthfully, she'd given me more than I'd ever hoped, though why she had would forever be beyond my ability to comprehend. Her voice: "Ewwwww. Two girls?" would echo through my mind, even while I would have preferred to remember the soft touch of her skin, and the gentle pressure of her lips against mine, her whispers in my ears. I heard her footsteps stop a few metres behind me. Still I didn't turn. I didn't want to. This way, at least only the island and the loons would see the tears. <---===***===---> "You didn't jump," she said quietly and lightly behind me, her voice nearly inaudible. "I'm glad." I bit my lip, and passed one hand easily over my cheek wiping away the one tear that I couldn't stop. I shook my head. "I didn't, no." "The water's awful cold this time of year anyway," she murmured. "Unless you're in a hot tub." I didn't reply. My vision was blurred as I tossed a pebble over into the void. It arced down and splashed harmlessly into the calm, apparently cold, water far below. "Can I sit with you?" I didn't answer her. "Please?" My shoulders hunched, and without waiting for an answer, Michelle settled beside me. Her thigh touched mine, warmth through denim. Suddenly, I was acutely aware that I wasn't wearing a bra or panties, but Michelle couldn't know that. I shivered. "Do you hate me?" Michelle whispered. Her fingers brushed at my shoulder. I wanted to scream at her, tell her to finish it, stop teasing me. Instead, I gently shook my head. No, I didn't hate her. I didn't hate her for her derision of Ms. Stone, and I didn't hate her for leaving me now. And I certainly didn't hate her for the previous night. Her fingers touched me again, this time my cheek. If she noticed the moisture there, she tactfully ignored it. I turned to look at her with the urging of her fingertips. Her fingers were warm and soft against my damp cheek. Her happy expression fell as she absorbed my melancholy. "You regret last night," she said slowly. I shook my head. In that, I could be fully truthful. I definitely didn't regret last night, never would, never could. She looked confused for a moment, her hair dancing about her face and shoulders in the breeze. My ribs ached, and each breath was harder than the last. I wanted to look away, towards the tree upon the island, but her eyes held me. "Sharon?" She paused, as if afraid of what she was about to say. I was more afraid, I suspect, even while I thought I knew what she was about to say. She looked up from the ground, her fingers still touching my cheek. One of my silent tears rolled over her fingertip. "I know why you didn't jump." I knew as well. "Why?" I whispered. Below, in a break in the mists, a loon surfaced, watching us high above, on the top of a cliff. I brushed a lock of hair from my eyes. Michelle fell into focus even through the blur of tears. Michelle leaned in and kissed me, her lips as soft as I remembered them, igniting things in me that shouldn't have been, not now, not as she was about to leave me. After an eternity, she pulled away from my lips. I was no longer crying, only resigned. "Because you aren't alone any more," she said. "And neither am I." I watched her for a moment, stunned, unsure, and happy all in one integrated package. Michelle smiled, and flashed me an uncharacteristic look of apprehension. "Would you like to warm up in the hot tub again tonight?" she whispered. Numbly, I nodded, and Michelle grinned, relief washing over her visage. The loon below cried out once more, but this time its mournful call seemed happy and serene. With a laugh, Michelle leaned in and embraced me, her lips finding mine again. She didn't pull away for a long, long time.