BEWARE!

This is a story full o' dykes, fags and trannies! If you like that kinda thing, you might wanna stick around and read it. If you are offended by profanity and/or sexy situations involving queers, you might want to skip this blog and read Anne of Green Gables instead (it is a pretty good book, I must say).

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GINA

"I talked to your sister today," Mrs. Mayer said after some silence.

"Hmm? Which one?" Gina responded flatly.

"Which one do you think? Who's the only one who ever calls me?"

"Bethany?"

"She says she hasn't talked to you in months. How can you live in the same city and not talk to your sister? Honestly, Gina. Anyway, she'd love to hear from you."

Gina gave her mother a non-committal nod and returned to staring at the television.

"Gina."

"Hmm."

"How long has it been since you took a shower?"

Gina looked at her mother. "What? Why? Do I smell?"

"You've been wearing the same clothes for three days."

"Oh." Gina looked down at her t-shirt and sweats. A bright red streak obscured the lettering on her t-shirt so that it appeared to read "IDS Marathon" instead of "AIDS Marathon." Thursday's spaghetti sauce. She shrugged slightly, focusing her attention back to the television screen.

"Gina--"

"--WHAT. I'M TRYING TO WATCH JAY LENO."

"Hey, Missy. This is my house, okay? You don't need to speak to me that way."

"Sorry, Mom."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm not feeling so great."

"I know. You're never feeling so great."

"...alright, I'll take a goddamn shower. You happy?"

"Don't get up. I'm not done."

"With what?"

"You must be the stubbornest person I know."

"What's that have to do with anything?"

"Look at yourself."

"I said I was gonna take a shower."

"This happens every time."

"What?"

"I can predict it."

"Predict what?"

"How many breakups is this now? Is this number 5 or 6?"

"...I lost count."

"Don't you ever think that maybe this gay thing isn't for you?"

"Oh, God, don't start with that--"

"--What about John Pleasons--"

"--What about him?"

"I saw him the other day. He's very handsome. He's still single."

"Great. Why don't you date him, then."

"Don't be silly. I was talking about you. Why don't you at least try?"

"Good God, Mom."

"Go on one date. Just one--"

"--Mom--"

"--then see how you feel--"

"--I am a LESBIAN, Mother. A LESBIAN. Come on, you can say it. LESBIAN--"

"--Oh, quit it. I know how to say that word."

"THAT WORD happens to describe me pretty well."

"So does ETERNALLY MISERABLE. Listen, honey, I'm tired of seeing you getting your heart broken again and again, that's all."

"So am I, Mom."

"Bethany doesn't have these relationship problems."

"--just drop it, please--"

"--she's happy."

"Because she's straight, right?"

"Well, she's the only one of you who seems to be getting along okay in the world. Then there's you and Joanna. If you were me, wouldn't you wonder?"

"I'm going out back."

"I don't know what I did. I don't know what happened with the two of you. Take a jacket, Hon."




I need a smoke. I need another smoke, and I'm all out. Nothing's open right now. Jesus, I shouldnta come back here. What was I thinking? What am i thinking? Gina, why didn't you think ahead and buy another pack? Idiot.

It's cold out here. Drew. Cold and dark. Drew. I'm so tired of this shit. DREW! Her name's a broken record inside my brain. Her face is up there in the constellations. She's smirking down at me. I feel completely sick. The only thing that could come close to helping right now is a cigarette.

I'm yesterday's trash now.

THE CELL PHONE IS RINGING. Beethoven's "Eroica." Drew's choice. I don't recognize the number. Maybe it's her. OH GOD IT COULD BE HER.

"Hello!?"

"So you're alive."

My heart deflates. Not her.

"Who's this?"

"Who do you think?"

"...Kim?"

"You're a genius."

Oh, Shit.

"...Hi, Kim."

"Hi, Gina. You haven't returned my calls."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You stuck me with the rent."

"...I-"

"-I've been working double shifts to cover for your ass."

Silence.

"That's real shitty, Gina."

"...I'm sorry."

"I just wanna know one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay? You haven't tried anything stupid, right?"

"No...I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Good. Cause when you get back here--which will be BY TOMORROW AFTERNOON--I'm gonna kick your ass."

For the first time in days, I smile.

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ETHAN

"She's--I mean, he's--sorry, I still mess up on the pronouns sometimes--anyway, HEEEZ always been that way--hard to get to know, ya know--wouldn't take it personally or anything--I mean, I'm sure he doesn't mean to be so--"

"Aloof?" Gabriel offered, finishing Janey's thought for her. "Stand offish? Three degrees this side of freezing? I think 'just plain rude' captures HIM the best."

"Oh, Gabe, you're being too sensitive."

"I can't help it! He won't even look at me when he hands me my americano! That's so unfriendly. Why can't he smile...is it hereditary? Does he suffer from some kind of mental retardation?"

"Don't be cruel."

"You know what's cruel, Janey? When you stick your neck out and someone continually cuts it off. I have come here every day with a smile on my face--I say, 'Hi, Ethan, how are you?' and, if I'm lucky, I get a nod. A nod! What is that about?"

Janey glanced at Ethan from their seat in the corner of UBER CAFE, next to the bookshelves lined with old obscure hardbacks. If he had overheard anything, he gave no indication. He continued his work, cleaning the espresso machine, wiping down the counters, carrying trays of almost empty glasses, small pools of coffee swishing inside them as he walked to the back. Janey marveled at his industriousness.

Yeah, Ethan was stand offish. But he never gave Janey attitude when she got to work late or when she asked to leave early. Janey figured Ethan was just exceptionally private. That didn't make him abominable.

"--a transguy, even! You would think we'd have something to talk about." Gabriel stopped for a moment, inhaled deeply and let out a sigh. "I just don't understand why it's so hard to make friends here. It's like there's no trans community at all. Just a bunch of self absorbed jerks. Fuck. I didn't have any problems like this in Boston...maybe I should just move back."

Janey took Gabriel's dark hand and and squeezed it sympathetically with her paler one.

The high pitched ring of the cordless telephone interrupted the moment. Janey picked up.

"UBER CAFE."

"I need to speak to Ellen, please." Male voice. Kinda raspy and tired sounding.

Janey frowned. "Who?"

"Ellen--Ellen Zartovsky."

"There's nobody here by that name."

"This is Ellen's uncle. She said she was working tonight. She gave me this number."

Janey was puzzled silent for a moment. Then it clicked.

"Ethan?"

Ethan came out from the back.

Janey held a hand over the receiver. "Is your last name Zartovsky?"

Ethan seemed to freeze for a moment. Then he nodded. Janey held the phone out to him. He slowly took it and turned and walked to the back, speaking into the phone softly.

Several moments later, Ethan reappeared. Gabriel and Janey watched as he walked to the coat rack, grabbed his coat, thrust it over his back. He turned to Janey. "I have to leave. Tell Eve I won't be able to make it to work this weekend, Janey."

"Ethan? What happened?"

"My mother died."

"Oh, my God." Janey instinctively jumped up and threw her arms around Ethan, squeezing him tightly for a moment. He stood there in her grip, neither returning nor fighting it.

"Are you gonna be okay? Do you need me to give you a ride somewhere?"

"No. It's okay," Ethan replied, looking beyond Janey, his young, ruddy face a mixture of misery and stoicism. "Everything's fine. I'll be fine."

"I feel like a complete ass," Gabriel lamented once Ethan left.

"You didn't know," Janey replied, watching as Ethan's slender figure disappeared down 14th Street.

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JOEY

"Love what is ahead by loving what has come before."

Joey read the quote attached to the teabag and smirked. She slumped on Mrs. Allen's living room couch, her left ankle propped upon her right knee, sipping tea and scanning the unfamiliar room. A monstrous home theater entertainment center sat across from her. Looking somewhat out of place beside it hung one of those ultra modern, minimalistic CD players. Below it, a pair of speakers leaked out light jazz. Seashells and figurines sat perfectly dusted on a shelf to Joey's right, next to pictures of two towheaded children smiling brightly. Mrs. Allen's grandchildren, Joey guessed, dressed up like little dolls. A wedding.

Mrs. Allen re-emerged. Joey's eyes grew wide. She placed the teacup on the coffee table and stood up.

"Wow. That's a great robe."

"It's a kimono."

"A kimono?"

"Yes. I bought it when I was in Japan."

"It looks very soft."

"It's 100 percent silk. Would you like to touch it?"

Joey grinned widely and closed the distance between her and Mrs. Allen.

"Go ahead. Wherever you like."

"It feels nice."

"You have very nice hands, Joey. Nice, strong hands."

"You're so pretty, Mrs. Allen."

Mrs. Allen grasped Joey's lower lip between her teeth gently, tugging at it a long moment before letting it go. "Cynthia, love. Call me Cynthia."


In the dark of early morning, Joey carefully extricated herself from her lover's arms. Mrs. Allen--Cynthia--appeared to be sleeping soundly. Joey reached to the opposite side of the bed and scooped up the purse tucked against the nightstand. She tiptoed to the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the light.

Joey unclasped the purse and removed the billfold. She removed all the cash--a ten spot and some twenties--plus a half-full bottle of vicodin. GREAT. MONEY FOR THE BUS RIDE HOME, A BEAUTIFUL BOCQUET FOR MAE, AND A TREAT FOR LATER. Thanks for everything, Mrs. Allen...

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BIANCA

"I can't believe her. She actually did it. Who glues a painting to the ceiling? Who DOES THAT??"

Bianca shook her head disdainfully in agreement. "Terrible."

"I thought she was threatening to do it to make me mad. I didn't think she'd actually go through with it."

"Hmmm."

"I'll probably pull off half the ceiling if I try to take it down. We'll never get our deposit back now."

Tanti buried her face in her hand and rubbed her forehead.

"She put it over my side of the bed, just to spite me, I know it. I couldn't sleep last night. It's those eyes. They stare down at me...I'm so tired. I need to sleep. No. I absolutely have to finish this power point by 5. I need more coffee."

"No, no, don't get up--" Bianca gave Tanti a gentle nudge back into her seat. "I'll go get you some. Where's your cup?"

"Really, Bianca, you're so nice to me. I'm sorry to vent on you--you don't have to--"

"--I know I don't. You're my friend and I wanna help you. Let me get you some coffee and we can work on this power point, mm?"

"..thanks so much. You're great."

"You taking it black today?"

"Yeah. Thanks.

"I'll be back in a flash, Tanti."

Bianca walked down the main aisle, making her way past the multitudes of square, grey cubicles to the lunch room. Ach! Somebody took the last of the coffee and left the pot on the burner. It figures. People around here still expect their mother to clean up for them.

Bianca removed the old filter, black and soggy, dumping it in the nearby trash can. STUPID RIDICULOUS SLUT, Bianca muttered under her breath. She was really starting to lose her patience now. This all was taking longer than she expected. When was Tanti going to figure out that Eve--that loudmouthed, poetry spouting, protest-happy, messy haired freak she was with was no good for her? Why could everyone but Tanti see it? How much more tongue biting was Bianca going to have to do, waiting for Tanti to come to her senses?

I can't sit around and play the loyal friend game forever. Tanti should be my girlfriend. We should have moved in together by now. We should be starting a family by now.

Bianca ducked into the corridor while the coffee brewed and pulled out her cell phone. She plugged in numbers and waited.

"Hello, Corey? It's Bianca. Hi. You busy? Oh, good. I need a favor."

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STAY TUNED FOR MORE QUEERTALES, COMING SOON...:)