Turning Point

Chapter 6

Chapter 6The next several weeks passed in a fog of classes and homework. Punctuated by ‘alone-time’ sessions that grew in frequency. We got to the point where we were scheduling them three or four times a week, as our workload permitted. Believe it or not, I think the much needed venting of s****l tension actually improved our classwork and sharpened our ability to focus.

I found that no matter where I started out, Angela always ended up the true object of my m**********n fantasies. The imaginings grew more vivid and the climaxes more intense with each passing week. Looking back on my inexperience at the time, I’m amazed that I managed to keep this up without making a complete fool of myself with Angela.

Making the arrangements for these had the side effect of making me relax a bit about the subject of s*x. Considering what we were doing, this was certainly the most intimate relationship I’d ever had with, well, anyone. Of course, I know that everyone m*********s. But before then, I had never before admitted to anyone that I did.

Oddly enough, it was something of a relief that Angela knew. This made her more of a confidante; someone I could trust and with whom I could relax.

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, I must’ve been laid-back indeed, because I did something I never would’ve dreamed of doing before knowing Angela.

Neither of us had the funds to go back home for the holiday, so we practically had the dorm to ourselves for a four-day weekend. We went out together to a local restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner and stopped on the way back to the dorm to rent a movie. I convinced Angela to try ROMAN HOLIDAY with Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn. I had some trepidation about that choice because not many people our age were into old black and white films. I’m crazy about that one though, and I was intensely curious (and hopeful) about Angela’s reaction to it. It was an experience I wanted to share with her.

Luckily, Angela had brought a TV and VCR (this was 1998, remember) with her to the dorm. Up to this point, we really hadn’t had the chance to get much use out of them, but we were happy to have them for the holidays.

We donned our PJ’s and popped some popcorn and settled down in front of the TV for a cozy, girl’s night in. It was a cold November night and Angela had drawn her blanket and comforter all the way up to her chin. As I put the tape in the machine and made my way back to my bed, Angela suggested, “Why don’t you come on over here with me? If we combine our body heat under one comforter, it ought to be nice and toasty.”

Wow! This night was getting better and better. I was gonna get to snuggle up for two hours with the subject of my most luminous fantasies. While sharing one of my all-time favorite movies with her, yet. No complaints from me, sister!

Angela was quiet while the film was on, seemingly absorbed in the story. I tried not to be too distracted by her proximity, but it was wonderful to feel her body against mine in the warm embrace of her blankets.

When the picture ended, Angela was quiet. I turned to her and asked, “Well...?”

She answered simply, “Thank you.”

After hesitating a moment to gather her thoughts, she went on, “I used to have the idea that those old movies were all dull and kinda hokey. But, this one was sweet and tender without being corny. Movies now are always impatient to ‘cut to the chase’ and get to the ‘good part’. ROMAN HOLIDAY let you get to know the characters and care about them. Then, it took its time building to the payoff, which made it so much sweeter.”

“I also love the fact that they didn’t end up together, which, considering the circumstances, would’ve been completely unbelievable.”

“The Vespa ride... “ Angela continued, “the haircut... the boat dance... it was all so magical.”

“And Gregory Peck, what can I say? He could take me on holiday anywhere he wants! Not only is he yummy, but his voice is to die for! I don’t know if butter would melt in his mouth, but I sure would!”

“Damn, girl,” I nudged her playfully, “you are shameless.”

“Oh, right.” Angela laughed. “Like you’d kick him out of bed.”

“What”, I wondered aloud, “did you think of Audrey Hepburn?”

“She was perfect. Adorable... charming... innocent. After you got to know her, you just knew he was a goner. I mean, she was irresistible. The audience falls in love with her right along with him and hell, she’s not even my type.”

My mind latched onto ‘not my type’. What did she mean by that? Does that signify that some women are her type? Of course, as soon as I thought it, I realized that I was pathetically grasping at straws. But it did make me curious.

“What do you mean ‘not my type’?”

“Well, like I said before,” Angela responded, “I don’t really know much about old movies, but I kinda had the vague impression that at least the stars back then --- you know, Marilyn Monroe, Sophia Loren, Raquel Welch --- were a little healthier, a bit more va-va-voom than the scrawny chicks they parade across the screen today.”

“Don’t get me wrong. Hepburn had charisma and presence to spare. But as a visual ideal, she was almost as underfed and unhealthy looking as what we see in the theaters right now.”

“Hmmm,” I mused audibly, “I’ve been watching Hepburn since I was a little girl. By the time I formed my notions on ‘visual ideals’, I was so used to her that I never thought about how thin she was. But, you’re right. She’s not exactly robust looking. But, hey... next to you, most of us look sadly underdeveloped.”

“Oh, puh-leeeze, girl. I just know you’re not complaining.”

I let the comforter fall away from my torso. Looking down at my chest, I cupped my breasts through my pajama tops. “Well, it would’ve been nice if Mother Nature had seen fit to bless me with a tad more than she did. At this late date, I’ve stopped hoping for a delayed growth spurt.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Angela protested. Her eyes held mine for a moment, and then... “Oh my God! You’re not kidding! Emma, don’t you have any idea how gorgeous you are? Just ‘cause you don’t have t**s out to here...”, she gestured with her hands in the shape of a ridiculously large bosom, “doesn’t make you scrawny.”

“Em, if you only paid attention, you’d see what your mirror tells you every day. You are one of the most beautiful girls on campus, and believe me, I don’t say that because you’re my friend. If you weren’t busy focusing on every minor flaw you perceive, you’d realize what I did the moment I met you: you’re a knockout.”

“Angela,” I began, “you don’t have to... “

“Obviously, I do.” Angela interrupted. “I want you to see yourself the way I do. Just be careful not to let your head get too big.” She reached over and placed her hand on my cheek. “Close your eyes and listen to me for a minute.”

I leaned back into her pillows and brought my lashes down. “I know you’ve told me,” Angela began, “that you used to play soccer and softball in high school, and it shows. You stand tall and erect and there’s an athletic grace in everything you do. I love watching you move. I never told you that before ‘cause I thought it might sound, I don’t know, kinda weird. But, I’m telling you now and I don’t care how it sounds.” I felt her hand take hold of mine.

“That wavy, burnished copper hair grabs all the guys’ attention and then those penetrating emerald eyes make sure they can’t look away again.”

“And don’t forget,” Angela went on in a mischievous tone, “I’ve gotten an eyeful of the rest of the package. Those t**s you were bitchin’ about? Let me tell you, when some guy finally gets his lips wrapped around them, he’s gonna think he’s died and gone to heaven. They’re perky and topped off with puffy, pink n*****s that were just made for sucking.”

I could feel my n*****s stiffen in response to her praise. Goosebumps spread across my neck, shoulders and arms and I know I had to be blushing.

“That slender waist,” Angela continued, “curves into luscious hips that somebody’s definitely gonna wanna hold onto someday. And if it wasn’t for that dazzling smile of yours, I would say that your legs might be your best feature: shapely and strong, without being masculine; creamy smooth thighs. Whenever you decide to let some lucky boy between them, he’ll know he’s in the promised land.”

We both chuckled at her hyperbole, but my eyes were moist with emotion. I opened them and looked into hers, speaking in a low voice. “Thank you.”

Angela leaned close in the bed and wrapped me in her arms. “You’re welcome.” Her mouth was next to my ear, her voice soft and sweet. “But, I know I can’t be the first person to tell you you’re beautiful.”

“My parents, of course.” I responded. “But that’s kinda their job. I’ve had some interested boys back in high school pay me compliments too, but nothing anywhere near as stirring as what you just said.”

“Well, then,” Angela kissed me on the cheek, “it was long overdue.”

“Would you be willing”, I asked, changing the subject, “to try another old movie with me?”

“If you’ve got any that are as good as ROMAN HOLIDAY, then, sure.”

“In very different ways, yeah, as good or better. If you want another romance, Garbo’s QUEEN CHRISTINA is marvelous. If you’re willing to take a chance on a drama, I can tell you that ON THE WATERFRONT or A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS or INHERIT THE WIND might just change your life!”

“Sounds like we’ve got a date for tomorrow.” Angela smiled. “But, for now, I’m ready to get some shut-eye. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I pulled the covers aside and began to climb out of her bed. “I had such a good time today, I got a little greedy. I wasn’t quite ready for it to end.”

“Well,” Angela replied, “if you don’t mind the close quarters, you’re welcome to stay over here with me. The way that wind is whipping out there, it’s a great night to keep each other warm.”

“You sure?”

By way of reply, Angela raised her comforter and patted the spot on her mattress that I’d just vacated.

With a girlish squeal of delight, I hopped back in bed beside her.

“You might not be so thrilled”, Angela cautioned, “when you realize how little room there is for tossing and turning. These aren’t exactly king-size beds, you know”

“I’m fine with it, so long as you are.”

“C’mon over here, then.” She put her left arm around my shoulder and pulled me to her. “The whole point,” Angela murmured, “is to make it snug.” That forced me to lay my head on her shoulder. It also gave me the confidence to drape my left arm across her tummy and let my left leg rest atop hers. “That OK?” I asked. Angela mumbled her assent, then turned her head to look at me.

“You know,” she said, “it occurs to me that I wouldn’t have asked anyone else to do this. I would’ve been worried that they’d think it was gay, or just too intimate, or too... I don’t know... too something. I love that you ‘get’ me. The more I’m around you, the more I feel I can be myself without wondering how you’re gonna take it. I never really had that before and I’m just beginning to realize what I was missing.” The hand on my shoulder squeezed gently and she pulled me closer still.

“You always know just what to say.” I whispered. “I was thinking the same thing, but I don’t think I could’ve put it so nicely.”

Angela smiled her response, but her eyes were closed and not long after, it was apparent that she had drifted off to sleep. I was too excited to drop off just yet. Once again I was enveloped in her fragrance. Only this time, I was practically nuzzling her! The warmth of her tummy under my arm, her leg under mine, the feel of my body pressed to hers... if this wasn’t heaven, it would certainly do until heaven came along.

I’m not sure how long it was before I finally fell asleep, but I know I spent some fair amount of time just basking in her closeness. When dream claimed me, my last conscious thought was a realization that I was no longer worried about being a lesbian or a bi-s****l. It simply didn’t matter. I was fairly certain, after all, that I had fallen in love.