Drop Off The Key

"We've been together three years, Wyatt. You gave me a key to check your apartment when you went camping with your friends and I just never gave it back. That's the closest we've come to moving forward."

"That's what this is about? You want to get married or something?"

"No. I just, I don't think... you always talk down to me."

"What do you mean?"

"L-Like you... you say I'm just going to fail the driver's test anyway. You don't believe in me."

"Of course I believe in you!" He butted the burnt-out cigarette in the ashtray. "You, you're in school. You're gonna be the best hacker in the world when you're done."

My cheeks flared. "Information Systems."

"What?"

"I'm getting a degree in Information Systems. It's a Science degree."

"You know I don't get that shit. You do computer stuff."

"This is what I mean. You don't even know—"

"I fucking do know, don't talk to me like I'm stupid."

His cheeks were slowly turning red and I stepped back nervously. He seemed to sense my fear and lifted his hands non-threateningly.

"Baby. Leigh. Give me a chance here."

Then it was "Come on, baby. You never even told me these things were bugging you."

"Don't I deserve a chance to fix it?"

"I need you. Of course I need you."

"I want you. Of course I want you."

"You've got all these thoughts in your head that I never even knew about. Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Of course I respect you. I respect you so much, baby."

He talked and talked, and I resisted. Then I wavered. Then I gave in, still shaking my head as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm gonna show you," he said. "You mean the world to me."

"Do you love me?"

He hesitated for no longer than it took to blink, but he still hesitated.

"Of course. You know I just... I have trouble saying it."

He had to go to work after that, so he drove me home before heading to the convenience store.

"Gimme a kiss," he said, leaning over the seat.

Tight-lipped, I pressed my mouth to his.

"A real kiss," he chided.

I repeated the action, then got out of the car feeling both over and underwhelmed.

For most of the night, I sat on the balcony of my apartment. I smoked half-cigarette after half-cigarette; each time I'd get a few puffs in, I'd suddenly feel sick and crush it out in the tin can I kept on the small bistro table. Then I'd stare, my thoughts spinning in circles again and again, until I found myself lighting another cigarette.

What I needed was a friend. Someone to talk things over with, someone who would tell me what they thought without the bias of being in the situation.

Jacquie, Krista, and Anne-Marie were not my friends. I understood that clearly enough when I finally stood up, chucked the remainder of my cigarettes in the toilet, and put on a clean shirt before calling a cab.

**

"Three weeks in a row? You sure you're straight?"

Bretta had caught sight of me before I had even stepped off the narrow staircase. She watched with a grin on her face as I worked my way through the crowd of people towards her at the bar.

"Here." I thrust twenty dollars into her hand, refusing to take it back as she tried to shove it to me. "No. You paid for my drinks and a cab home. Please let me pay you back."

"Only if you tell me you dumped his sorry ass."

Her expression didn't change, but mine did, and Bretta sighed as she waved the bartender down.

"Girl, really?" Disappointment hung in her words and I blushed. "Tell me you're not here with your so-called friends again, at least."

"No. I came alone."

She tilted her head, a soft huff of breath leaving her nose before she glanced at me, a wry smile twisting on her lips.

"Why'd you do that?"

"You're the closest thing I have to a friend," I mumbled. "I need help."

Her expression softened. She ordered a drink for herself and a beer for me, shaking her head as I tried to pay for it and using the twenty I'd given her instead.

"Talk to me, girl." She sipped her drink and leaned in, eyes focused on me and me alone.

Before I could even entertain the thought of stopping myself, I told her everything from the moment I'd left the bar the week before to the moment I'd left my apartment to go there. I tried not to cry, but couldn't stop a tear from dripping as I repeated the things Wyatt had said while I tried to break up with him.

"You don't believe a word of that, do you?"

I shook my head. Seemingly without thinking, Bretta reached up and wiped the tear off my face. My eyes met hers as her thumb brushed across my cheek, a shiver working its way down my spine as she touched me. She pulled her hand back quickly, as though I'd shocked her, and looked unsettled for the first time.

"Sorry." The unsettled look was replaced by a bashful grin. "And I'm sorry things didn't go smoothly with the breakup. I wish there was something I could do to make you smile."

"Thank you," I said softly. "But, um, actually... could you... I mean, I know you told me how to last week, but could you tell me again how I can just... leave him? I need to hear it again."

She smiled, and she leaned in, and quietly she built me up.

"You just leave," she said. "You deserve so much better than that asshole. Whatever you have to do to get out, do it. If that means ghosting him, ghost him."

"What if I never find anyone else, though?"

Bretta rolled her eyes. "Leigh. Girl. You're fucking gorgeous. Open your eyes and I bet you could have a lineup of lovers just waiting for you to notice them."

Gorgeous?

I laughed awkwardly, sipping my beer. "I don't know about 'gorgeous.'"

She touched my knee. I suppose the intent was to be comforting, but that electric current that had coursed through us when she had brushed the tear off my cheek returned, searing through the fabric of my jeans. She didn't take her hand away, instead staring hard at me with serious, sober eyes.

"You're gorgeous," she said again, and I felt the words trickle through me. "You are smart, hotter than you have any right to be, and far more forgiving than you should be."

She moved her hand off my knee. I was nearly breathless, but I had no idea if she'd felt the same chemistry. Why would she? She was the sun; she was both gratifying warmth and dangerous, ferocious heat. She was too much, and yet somehow had noticed the little speck of dust that was me.

"I just don't know," I whispered.

She sighed, shaking her head.

"Look, you deserve better. You deserve someone who treats you like you're all the stars in the sky." Bretta finished her drink, placing the glass on the bar before leaning back in. "If you can't do it right now, sleep on it. Regroup your thoughts. In the morning, you'll see the light, and you'll be able to leave that prick. I believe in you."

I didn't need the morning to see the light. I could already see her.

The pounding of my heart drowned out any thoughts I might have had before leaning forward and pressing my lips to Bretta's. I wasn't thinking when I kissed her, but I kissed her hard. Like a moth to flame, I couldn't stop myself from tasting those pink lips, from feeling the surge of energy that flowed between us. I kissed her like a stereotype, like a bouncing, throbbing Katy Perry song. I kissed her with everything I had in me and everything I still needed, with urgency and desperation and a craving for someone who had shown me the kindness she had.

She kissed me back. She did, without hesitation, giving in to the electricity and the need and the moment. Her lips were soft, her breath stained with citrus and sweetness and alcohol. It was only for a moment; a beautiful, energizing, thrilling moment, nowhere near long enough before she brought her hand to my cheek and gently pulled away.

"I wasn't lying when I said you're fucking gorgeous."

I could feel the rejection before she said it and I cringed, my face burning under her palm.

"I just don't make a habit of getting involved with straight girls who don't know what they want."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, pulling back from her flame and sliding from the barstool. "I, um, have to go."

"Leigh, wait, I don't want you to think—"

I couldn't let her finish the thought. Bretta was the sun: bright and shining and conspicuous. I wasn't. I was a shadow, barely noticeable, almost invisible. For once, I used it to my advantage, and slipped between the crowds of people until I was practically running up the stairs and away from her.

**

I was silent during the cab ride to Wyatt's, only speaking to thank the driver as I paid. The crushing weight of Bretta's rejection paired with the mortifying guilt that I'd kissed someone who wasn't my boyfriend hunched my shoulders as I scuffled towards his apartment.

I could tell him, I thought. I mean, I should tell him. It was another woman. Wyatt's jealousy seemed to stretch only to other men. Frankly, I could probably whisper in his ear about how she kissed me and he'd be ready to fuck me instantly. Maybe I'd even come.

Or I could just keep it to myself. It was just a kiss. It was just a strange, stupid, one-off type of thing that would never happen again. I could just go in, tell him I was happy to see him, and keep moving on with the pathetic little charade that was my life.

I could give him the second chance he had wanted. Didn't he deserve it? If I deserved a second chance for kissing another woman, it was only right that he get a chance to address the concerns I'd never brought up with him before that day.

Bretta was wrong. Bretta had put it into my head that Wyatt was a terrible boyfriend. She'd never met him, she'd barely met me, and she had no business intruding on my life like that.

She was wrong.

Well, she was wrong until I realized she probably was right, which happened when I quietly unlocked Wyatt's front door and stepped inside.

I froze before even closing the door behind me. Wyatt shouldn't have been home from work yet, but his shoes were sitting on the mat by the entrance. Next to his were a familiar pair of women's shoes.

And from his bedroom...

"Oh fuck, Jacquie!"

A breathy moan.

Then the sound of the bed frame slamming against the wall, a rhythmic, steady drumming.

Drop off the key, Leigh.

Bretta's voice echoed as I took one step into the apartment, and then another. The door swung shut, but they didn't hear it over the sound of the bed smashing against the wall. I took another step.

Wyatt's keys were on the counter. I picked them up carefully and slipped the key to my apartment off the ring, then pocketed it before laying the key to his apartment beside it.

I didn't have much stuff at his place. A toothbrush, some shampoo, a few spare pairs of underwear. I was okay with leaving those things behind. He did have a few PlayStation games I'd lent him, so I crossed to the living room and took those. One of my hoodies was lying on the arm of the sofa and I grabbed that, too.

Jacquie's purse was sitting on the armchair. I toyed with the idea of dumping it all over the floor before just walking past it. She was punishing herself enough already by fucking Wyatt.

Just before I opened the door to leave, Wyatt gave that tell-tale grunt and the pounding of the bed frame stopped. I hesitated for a moment, considered calling out to him and telling him we were through, but shook my head and smirked.

There was nothing for us to discuss. I didn't owe him an explanation. He had insisted he wasn't stupid, so if he couldn't figure out what happened, that was on him.

I opened the door, slipped through it, and let it slam shut behind me as I strode confidently down the hallway.

**

"Back again?"

The girl with the black lipstick smiled as I held my wrist out.

"Back again," I said.

"I'm Melissa, by the way," she said as she stamped it.

"Leigh. Nice to meet you."

"Again?" Simone laughed and nudged me. "Thought you said you were straight."

I shrugged. "I kissed a girl once."

Both she and Paula laughed, and I joined in as we slipped down the narrow staircase.

"I came here with some... people," I shouted as we moved into the crowded bar. "Ended up liking it."

On the Monday after I'd left Wyatt's key on his counter, I went to my classes as usual. My phone had nearly blown up with texts and calls from Wyatt and Jacquie. I'd grown tired of hearing it vibrate, so blocked their numbers, but Anne-Marie started texting on Jacquie's behalf while I was in Stats.

"Your bag is vibrating," whispered the girl next to me.

"Sorry," I whispered back, then dug into my purse and blocked Anne-Marie, too.

The girl had stared at me with veiled curiosity and I smirked, leaning towards her.

"I caught my boyfriend fucking my friend this weekend. They're all very sorry about it."

She stifled a laugh. "You don't seem too broken up about it."

I shrugged. "I have no friends and no boyfriend, but I don't think I've ever been happier."

"I'll be your friend," she whispered. "I'm Simone."

"Leigh. Nice to meet you."

Simone got me to tag along with her for lunch that day, introducing me to her ex-girlfriend, Kelsey, who she was still close with. We had lunch again the day after that, and when Stats rolled around again on Wednesday, she saved me a seat.

By Friday, I was part of their friend group, which included Paula. The following week, we set up a group chat and my phone was almost constantly buzzing with updates. We went shopping on Saturday and I invited them over for dinner and drinking afterwards.

Wyatt stopped texting after he showed up to my apartment that night, pounding on the door as he begged to let in. Paula had answered the door, taken one look at him, and burst out laughing.

"Hey Leigh!" she called. "Your ex is here."

Flanked by Simone on one side and Kelsey on the other, I went to the door and raised my eyebrow at him. He glanced at each of them, all with their lips pressed together and trying very hard not to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"I told them you suck at eating pussy," I said, and closed the door in his face.

The following weekend, Simone insisted that she wanted to go dancing. Kelsey bowed out, but Paula and I said we were in. Once we'd descended the staircase, we each got a drink, downed it, and then took to the dance floor.

I didn't go there expecting to see Bretta. I knew she was there the moment we walked in. It was nighttime, and she was the sun: I could sense her, even though I couldn't see her. It didn't matter; I wasn't there for her. I was there for me.

"I need a break!" I finally shouted to Simone. "I'm going to get a drink!"

"We'll be here!" she yelled back.

Sweaty and gasping for breath, I made my way to the bar. I asked for a Heineken and a glass of water. Before turning away from the bar, I chugged nearly half the glass. The other half ended up dripping down my chest after I turned around and immediately crashed into Bretta.

"Shit! Sorry, Leigh!" She looked alarmed, and even more so when I burst out laughing.

"You can make it up to me. Come dance."

Without waiting for a response, I pushed past her and back to my friends on the dance floor. Bretta followed, and we danced lazily as I drank my beer.

"Look at you," she mused, green eyes grazing over me. "So you left him?"

I smiled, nodded, and took a sip of beer. Bretta laughed.

"How'd he take it?"

"Well, once he pulled his dick out of Jacquie, not great."

I finished my beer as I brought Bretta up to speed, starting with walking into Wyatt's apartment and ending with the way I'd met my new friends. Said new friends were grinning at me from a respectable distance away, and waved when I directed Bretta's attention to them before putting my beer bottle down on a nearby table.

"Seems like you're doing pretty well." Bretta smiled, her eyes bright and her energy genuine.

"I am. And it's all your fault."

She laughed sharply. "My fault?"

"Yep. You pushed me to do it. Thank you."

I don't know which of us moved closer to the other, but she was suddenly leaning in.

"You know, you've been gorgeous this whole time, but you seem extra-beautiful now that you've set yourself free."

I smiled up at her, basking in the radiance of Bretta's light and shining my own back at her.

I can't say which of us touched the other first. I don't know if her hands were on my hips before or after I placed mine on her shoulders. I don't know which of us closed the slight gap between us, which one of us pressed her body against the other first.

All I knew was that the feel of her body moving against mine was intoxicating.

Bretta's head inched closer to mine. For a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me, but her lips barely grazed my cheek as she leaned close to my ear.

"You're a pretty good dancer."

I turned my head slightly, my lips brushing her ear as I spoke into it.

"You know I'm still a straight girl who doesn't know what she wants, right?"

Bretta pulled my hips towards her and I swayed them gently, bumping against her.

"You're sure not moving against me like a straight girl," she said bluntly.

I bit my lip, trying not to smile.

"Well... maybe I just don't know what I want, then."

Again Bretta's hands pushed my body into hers, and I gasped softly.

"You're sure moving around like someone who knows what she wants."

As it turned out, I did know what I wanted.

However, since Bretta was the first woman I'd ever wanted that from, I didn't quite know what to do.

She kissed me, a passionate, dizzying kiss that heated my entire body. When we parted, my cheeks were flushed, and I ran a hand through my hair.

"I just, I have to go to the bathroom," I murmured.

"You have to go to the bathroom, or you have to get away from me?" Bretta grinned, releasing her grip on my hips. "You can be honest with me."

"The bathroom," I said, and kissed her again. "Wait here."

Paula and Simone tailed after me as I slipped through the crowds of people. Once in the bathroom, Simone grabbed my arm.

"I fucking knew it!" she squealed. "I knew you weren't straight!"

"You know more than me then." I turned the tap on and splashed water on my cheeks quickly, trying to stop the burning flush that was staining my skin red.

Paula was more sympathetic.

"Are you sure... I mean, are you going home with her?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "I just... guys, I don't know what... how do you, you know..."

After the fastest crash course on lesbian sex in the history of the world, they made sure I was safe, hugged me, and sent me back into Bretta's arms.

She was waiting just off the dance floor, a bemused smile on her face as I strode out of the bathroom. With more confidence than I truly felt, I walked up to her, took her hand, and looked her in the eye.

"So, your place or mine?"

**

"You can tell me to go any time."

Bretta stood in my bedroom, a respectable distance away from me as I left the bathroom. I touched my mouth, lips still swollen from the unceasing kisses she'd placed there during the cab ride back to my place. The rest of my body tingled, aching for her, and I shook my head.

"Just be patient with me." I could feel myself pleading with her and bit my lip. "I, um... I mean, I haven't done this before."

A wolfish grin spread across her wide mouth.

"We'll take it slow. At first."

Crossing the room, she kissed me again. Heat rose through me as she carefully started removing my clothes, fingers dancing along my skin as she pushed my T-shirt up and unbuttoned my jeans.

After stripping me to my bra and panties, she stepped back to admire my body. I licked my lips, still blushing, as she made a soft noise of approval.

"What about you?" I asked.

She raised an eyebrow suggestively, gesturing for me to come closer.