1. Meeting Caitlyn

Transcript

You look incredible. My best friend Tony squeezes my hand. I squeeze back.

I might have usually dismissed the compliment, but I'll be damned if in the fluorescent light of my bathroom, I don't look like a snack. I'm demure in daylight, all Peter Pan collars and sensible footwear. On certain nights, though, I transform into a gothic goddess of smoky eyes and black lipstick.

I'm surprised even at myself tonight. The ripped fishnets, leather miniskirt, and studded collar are a bit much. But why shouldn't I be a bit much for once? Some dude is going to be very entranced by you tonight.

I make a face. I certainly hope not. We're going to a gay club, and no one ever wants to entrance a straight guy in a gay club.

Hopefully Tony will be the one getting all the dude attention. We're more obnoxious in the Uber than two adults should be, but we're already two bottles of cheap wine down, and the promises of $3 Red Bull and vodka shots makes us giddy. I'm the kind of tipsy that makes my skin buzz, as if I'd been outside in the sun all day.

I don't go out very often, but sometimes I can't deny the siren's call of our favorite dark, dingy club and its too loud synths. I can unleash this dark alter ego then, this shadow side to my perpetual light. Daytime me is straight-laced and shy, but just sometimes nighttime me wants to dance until the sun comes up.

We duck inside as soon as we arrive, mercifully avoiding a line. The club is cavernous, everything painted black, illuminated by music videos on the TVs and pulsing strobe lights. As always, it's packed with a diverse crowd.

Queer folks dancing gleefully, a few straight men prowling the perimeters, drag queens towering over us all like brightly colored deities. Immediately, I feel at home. Let's dance! I squeal, grabbing Tony's hand, and we snake our way into the masses of twisting, jumping bodies.

Three shots later, I drag Tony onto the stage at the center of the club. It's small, more of a platform, but people cram onto it all the time to earn their moment in the spotlight. After we stagger up, I'm momentarily paralyzed.

I've never been up here before. Faces lit up by the strobes turn towards me. Eyes blink up at me.

Who does she think she is, getting up on stage? I imagine them wondering. Maybe I'm not thin enough, or hot enough, or cool enough.

Dance, baby! Tony laughs, and taking his hands in mine, I do. It's only later, as Tony goes to get another drink, that I realize that someone is watching me.

I lock eyes with her as she clamors onto the stage. Her head is thrown back in laughter, golden curls cascading behind her. She's wearing a little black dress and some seriously impressive heels.

As we look at each other, her lips curl into a grin. She's beautiful, I think shyly. Too beautiful for someone like me.

I dart my gaze away quickly so she doesn't catch me staring. Do you want to dance? A low, smoky voice says in my ear.

I snap my eyes back up, and it's her, standing close, her lips still smiling as she pulls away to gauge my reaction. I must look surprised, because she chuckles. She leans back in, her lips close to my ear.

I like the way you move, she says. Well shit! I nod, unable to form words tongue-tied by the prospect of a beautiful woman complimenting me.

I know I'm attracted to women, but have only dated men before. I've never even kissed a girl. Sometimes I feel like a fraud at the gay club, but here, in this moment, as my heartbeat accelerates at a woman's light touch on my waist, I know that my attraction to her is very, very real.

I'm awkward at first, unable to look at her for too long, focusing on the floor of the stage as we dance. Then the hand not on my waist moves to my shoulder, her fingers lightly playing with the ends of my hair. I swallow hard and look up.

That Cheshire grin is still on her lips, her light eyes dancing in amusement. What's your name? she asks.

I bring my mouth to her ear. Anna, I say. What about you, Caitlin? When I say it's nice to meet her, her smile curves higher.

The pleasure is all mine. She pulls me even closer. Our breasts touch, and then our hips.

She slings one arm over my shoulder, her hand lightly on the back of my neck. The hairs at my nape stand up, as if Caitlin had pursed her lips and hissed cool air across my skin. Instead, the breath from her mouth comes warm and fast close to my own lips.

I can't meet her gaze. Not now. Not yet.

Instead, peering just over her angular shoulder. Have you kissed a girl before? My heart lurches like a car stopping too fast at a red light.

Should I lie? I wonder wildly. What if she won't want to kiss me because I'm not experienced? Maybe she'll think I'm a poser, a straight girl at the gay club pretending to be something else.

But, oh God, the alternative is lying, and the piercing blue-silver of her gaze makes me want to spill my whole life's story. No, I say into her ear, feeling myself flush red, grateful for the strobing dark. Not yet.

Not yet, huh? She grinds her hips against mine. Her grin, wicked, and heat spreads throughout my very core.

I've gone dry-mouthed. I can't remember the last time I was this attracted to someone. Caitlyn has me caught like a spider in her web, and I am so lucky to be ensnared.

Would you? Her delicate hands settle on my hips, her thumbs hooking ever so gently into the waistband of my skirt. She looks up at me through lashes heavy with mascara, and the breath goes out of me as if I've been punched.

Want to? Straight-laced Anna? Daytime Anna in her pearl earrings and kitten heels would demur.

Daytime Anna would make up an excuse. Daytime Anna would exit stage right. But this is nighttime Anna.

God, yes. I croak before I can keep my mouth shut. What little distance remains between us closes.

I don't know who initiated the kiss. If she got impatient or I got brave, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that her lips are soft against mine.

So soft that I worry I'll bruise them with my own unworthy mouth. I breathe her in, the taste of cigarette smoke and $3 Red Bull and vodka shots mingling on my tongue, and feel as if the warmth from her body is spreading out and into my own. Every particle in my body seems to be vibrating.

The very air buzzes against my skin like a swarm of bees. I've never had a kiss like this. I never knew a kiss like this was possible.

When she pulls away, she leaves barely an inch of space between our lips. The music around us continues to pound, but all I can hear is my own heart in my ears. Caitlin's light eyes dance as she grins.

Sorry, she says into my ear, her arms settling in a not very sorry way around my waist. I can be a little forward. I like it, I say truthfully.

I can be a little shy. Her grin curls further upward as if to say, I wouldn't have guessed. Our lips touch again.

The kiss this time is rougher, deeper, more insistent. Her hands roam across my back, and I'm desperate for even more of her touch. I pull her even closer, wishing I could melt into her, wishing that nothing else existed besides us in this moment.

Surprised by my own boldness, I slip my tongue past her teeth. She hums against my mouth, and I feel her lips quirk into a grin. Her own tongue responds, and we explore each other's mouths, our breath coming hot and fast.

I run my hands through the golden curls of her hair as her hands cup my ass, squeezing it, making me moan inadvertently. Suddenly, I wonder if we're being watched by anyone else in the club, and the thought makes my heart beat even faster. I've never been much of a voyeur, but here, with Caitlin, standing on this sticky stage, I think I could be into just about anything.

As Caitlin's hand dips below the waistband of my skirt, my phone buzzes against my thigh. I jump in surprise. Not important, I think.

When the phone buzzes again, I can't help but pull away. You okay, Caitlin mouths? I nod and hold up my phone in response, then look at my most recent texts.

SOS. Too much vodka. Not feeling good.

Oh, empty hurling in the alley, don't mind me. Shit, I mutter. My gaze snaps to Caitlin's, and her brow is furrowed in what looks like genuine concern.

I have to… I have to go, I say. I'm already scrambling off the stage, trying not to flash everyone as I scoot off the edge. I'm so sorry, I yell.

This was really nice. Wait, Caitlin shouts, but I'm already moving through the throngs of bodies, knowing from past experience that Tony will start drunk crying to passerbys any second. After I help Tony into an Uber, promising the driver, with fingers crossed, that my friend won't throw up on his leather seats, I look out the window.

Caitlin is standing on the corner, smoking a cigarette, staring at me with that Cheshire grin.