Chapter Five:

| Whitney|

“So what brings you to our little city, West Coast? We’re a ways out from your neck of the woods.”

Whitney watched the mischievous blonde woman she’d collided with a handful of hours ago tighten the bun behind her head, and offered a half shrug as some sort of response. The conversation had been pretty light leading up to this point. After going over a basic run down of Auburn and it’s highlights, they’d skimmed through one of the art books and Hollis listened intently as Whitney explained how she usually didn’t follow guidelines, but wanted to improve her style a bit. As reserved as Hollis seemed to be, she hung off Whitney’s every word with unwavering fascination. It was for that reason especially that Whitney didn’t want to get into the specifics for why she’d driven blindly to Maine.

“My family sucks. That’s the short story.”

Hollis took a sip of the water she’d ordered after finishing her martini, and rose a skeptical eyebrow. Whitney shifted uncomfortably in her seat and broke out into an anxious smile.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Tell me the long story.”

Whitney scoffed outwardly. “We’d be here all night.”

Hollis drummed her fingers against the table expectantly. “C’mon, what else are we gonna do? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Alright, but you’ve been warned.” Whitney grumbled, tousling her own curly black mane as she leaned forward some. Everything she was hoping to forget about her life in California replayed like a horrid movie scene in her mind as she told Hollis about her pushy, flawless parents and the perfect older sister who met all of their ridiculous expectations plus some.

“I never fit in. Like, at all. I do art...as you can see. This is what I’m good at, and I enjoy it. My father calls it a foolish hobby...this is coming from the man who thinks starving yourself is true willpower, and looks are the only thing that matter if you want to succeed. My mom used to model, and she shoved both me and my sister into this lesson and that lesson when we were little. Theresa loved it, so she never complained...but I couldn’t stand being told how to behave constantly. It felt like they were trying to change me, so I stopped going. That’s how I wound up on everyone’s permanent shit list I guess.” A scowl fell over her delicate features, making Hollis nod with empathy.

She wondered if the other girl could relate to her struggle.

“I just couldn’t do it anymore, you know? California never felt like home. I’m not cut out to be who everyone else in my family is out there. Auburn is pretty damn far from Hollywood. To be honest, I’m just ready for something different. So here I am.” She stopped talking to take a deep breath, and watched the other girl sink back against the secluded booth leisurely.

Hollis couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an engaging conversation with anyone like this, not counting Dalton. Before she could stop herself, the words came out. “I get it, feeling like you don’t belong. I can’t stand my parents, but my brother...he’s their pride and joy. I’m just along for the ride..and I’m always trying to get the hell out of that car. They’re constantly fighting over something...and I don’t understand why they keep trying to make it work. I went to live with my brother after my dad got drunk one night and brought some strange broad home...to rub it in my mom’s face. More than a decade later they still fuck with each other. I stay the hell away from them whenever I can, but I don’t think my brother understands why. It’d be a little easier if he took my side, at least sometimes.”

Whitney was shocked. In the short time they’d been acquainted, this was the most she’d heard her mysterious new friend share about her personal life. It felt amazing to finally have someone who understood what it was like to be the different one. On impulse, she reached over and squeezed Hollis’ tattooed hand comfortingly. Her doe like brown eyes found Hollis’ grey ones, and she smiled softly.

“Don’t worry, you’re not alone.”

Those few, simple words left Hollis feeling emotionally vulnerable in a good way. She’d spent all her time partying with women, working, and getting high to deal with the hatred she harbored for her parents. There hadn’t been a moment of stability in Hollis’ life, ever. If it weren’t for Ringo’s and Dalton, she’d probably never know what it was like to count on anything. Staring at the soft little fingers that’d encompassed her fist, Hollis rubbed the back of her neck uneasily. She wasn’t used to being touched affectionately like this, and didn’t know if she liked it or not yet.

Sensing Hollis’ discomfort, Whitney pulled away quickly and sat up straight. The blush returned to her cheeks.

“Sorry...” she mumbled, bowing her head to stare at the watered down ice of her finished drink. Hollis shook her head reassuringly and laughed slightly.

“Are you always this nervous?”

Whitney’s head snapped back up, and she narrowed her eyes at Hollis’ amused expression. She was enjoying this WAY too much.

“Who said I was nervous?”

“Nobody had to. Just an observation. It’s cute, West Coast. Don’t bite my head off before I have a chance to pay for our drinks.”

At the compliment, Whitney’s cheeks burned brightly. It angered her how much Hollis was able to get under her skin, seemingly effortlessly at that. She opened her mouth to say something, but got distracted by Hollis’ widening grey eyes. If she looked closely, she could see how thick the perfectly fanned out blonde lashes were.

“Cat got your tongue, honey?” Hollis teased, folding her forearms on the table and leaning over. She could think of a few things she wanted to stick in that pretty, full pink mouth...but just as soon as the thought entered, it vanished. Like she’d been cited for a hidden violation. She furrowed her brow in bewilderment.

“I’m not the one looking confused as hell over there.” Whitney took her opportunity to banter back, and stole Hollis’ water for a celebratory gulp. Despite the weird thoughts that’d just raced through Hollis’ head, she chuckled in agreement and cracked her knuckles.

“I’m not speechless often, so enjoy it.”

“Oh don’t worry- I am.” Whitney shook a few black curls out of her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Hollis playfully, causing the other girl to giggle like a fourteen year old experiencing her first crush. Thinking back to how Whitney had latched onto her hand a minute ago, she decided right in that moment how much she did like it, after all.

********************

| Hollis|

Long after all the other patrons had left Chelsea’s, Whitney and Hollis were still hanging out in their back booth laughing at Facebook memes and drawing silly cartoons on Whitney’s sketch pad.

“Told you I can’t draw. Look at that!” Hollis smirked, putting the finishing touch on her bloated stick figure; A little black cap. Whitney craned her head to add a full head of flowing blonde hair with her sunburst yellow Prisma colored pencil. The bartender admired the light, graceful sweeping motions she made against the paper.

“Now she looks like you.”

“Gee, thanks. So I’m a fat lesbian with terrible fashion taste, huh?” Hollis’ distorted facial expression made the other woman’s face fall.

“Well obviously, you’re anything BUT fat...” She eyed Hollis’ slim figure. Even in what would normally be an unflattering all black work uniform, she still managed to look appealing. Unlike most of the gay community in California, Hollis was a toned down kind of attractive. Not overly gaudy or flashy. Just naturally, authentically beautiful.

Hollis took the drawing back, smiling at Whitney’s realistic tree sketch. She’d always envied those with natural artistic abilities. “You’ll learn not to be so defensive around me, I promise. At least I got the “lesbian” part right.” She colored in a pair of board shorts around the stick figure and crinkled her nose. “...But this is most definitely NOT how I dress.”

Whitney watched in silence for a moment as Hollis traced over her own drawing, feeling a sense of pride. Her art had rarely received any attention back home unless it had been submitted for a competition, and even then her parents didn’t really seem to care after the ribbons had been won. The pure, awestruck look on Hollis’ face spoke volumes.

“Sorry to bother you, but we’re closing in ten. Should I split the check?” An older waitress in her mid forties swooped in, startling Whitney. Hollis took note and quickly went to hand over her debit card.

“Nope, we’re together. Could you make sure the guy who served us gets this?” She included a five dollar bill with the card, and the waitress nodded briskly. Hollis peeked at her name badge. “Thank you, Jean.”

“Ayuh, no problem dear.” She hurried to the nearest cash register, and Whitney turned her attention back to Hollis, who was starting to organize the various art supplies strewn all over the table.

“What’s “ayuh” mean? My roommate said it to me yesterday, and I forgot to ask or I would’ve.”

Hollis finished gathering the colored pencils, returning them to the compact set Whitney had brought along and grinned, glad for the chance to educate the newcomer about her State.

“Ayuh” is Maine talk. We use it for affirmation, agreements, and any positive indication we’ve been paying attention to what you’re saying.” She let her heavy hair down as it was starting to give her a headache, and ash blonde strands came into her peripheral vision.

“Cool!” Whitney exclaimed, excited to learn more about her unfamiliar surroundings. Jean returned a few moments later with Hollis’ card, and the girls reluctantly got up to leave.

“Where are you parked? I’ll walk with you.” Hollis took Whitney’s books before the Californian had a chance to grab them herself.

“You don’t have to-“ Whitney began hastily only to be cut off.

“I know. I don’t have to do anything but pay taxes and die...but I want to.” The adorable giggling that followed turned into full blown laughter.

"HA. Good one!"

Hollis loved Whitney’s laugh. It was throaty and high, kind of like wind chimes. She slyly checked her out from head to toe. She was a little taller than most of the women she’d been attracted to. About 5’8, with mile long legs and gracefully slender feet. Her black toenails peeped out from a pair of tasteful white wedges, the same white that matched the feminine blouse. From what she knew about California, this girl likely dressed light all the time. It wouldn’t have been right not to warn her of Maine’s harsh winter months.

“It gets really cold, here. We’re still coming out of summer, but I’d get a hold of some winter boots and a good, sturdy jacket if I were you, West Coast.” Hollis held the door open, and they stepped out into the calm, quiet night. With it being 1:58 A.M, most everyone in Auburn had gone back to their respective residencies. Even on a weekend. Whitney for one wasn’t used to it at all, but her focus was on Hollis as they took their time walking to her Prius.

“Thanks for the heads up. I did some research on my own too, and I’ll probably go into town sometime this week to stock up on warm clothes.”

“Ayuh. Good idea.” Hollis’ smile bared almost all her white teeth, and Whitney sighed inside. She couldn’t get enough of the Mainer’s enchanting accent. Soon, they were standing in front of Whitney’s car.

“It was really nice meeting you. Thanks for the drink.” She gazed up into Hollis’ eyes, wanting to ask when they could meet up again, but bit her lip. She really wished she could ease the nausea in the pit of her stomach. If it was one thing Whitney didn’t usually struggle with, it was making new friends.

Maybe that was the problem. Somehow, Hollis Bogard felt like more. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly, but it wasn’t anything she’d experienced before. An unspoken connection.

“Thanks for helping me feel better about my drawing.” Hollis handed Whitney all the books she’d been holding in her arms except the one she was borrowing.

“I can probably get through your book in a day or two...want to do this again next week?”

Whitney’s light brown eyes danced. “Sure! Tuesday at around noon work?”

Hollis ran a hand through her hair trying not to think about how the gold specks of Whitney’s brown orbs made her feel. She knew this was dangerous territory, but she DID need to return the book after all....and she’d be lying to herself and everyone else if she tried to pretend like she didn’t want to see the artsy free spirit from California again.

“Tuesday at noon is perfect.”

“Great. Our booth. Catch you then, Holly.” Whitney slid into her vehicle and started to back out of the parking spot, turning and taking off in the other direction.

Holly. Her heart did jumping jacks.

“Yeah.” Hollis muttered softly to herself, for the first time feeling hallow and empty without the company of another.

No, not just anyone.

Whitney York.