"Okay." I told her. 'You can stay with me, but you have to go back to your room as soon as it's morning."
She nodded and cuddled closer, putting her arm over my waist and bringing her head to my pillow. I kept my back to her. Many mornings I had looked in on Brenda and Celia and seen them so entwined, still asleep, clinging to each other as if their nights were free falls through the darkness. Sometimes. Celia's lips were still touching Brenda's neck, Her mouth was slightly open with her lips looking as if they were caught forever in an endless kiss. I had never been that close to my sister and I couldn't help but be jealous.
I could feel Echo's body soften and relax in the comfort of being beside me. I lay there with my eyes open, intrigued with the way my own body was reacting to the feel of her breasts against my back, her leg touching mine, her breath on my neck. She moaned almost as soon as she fell asleep and then drew herself even closer to me. My body tingled and a wave of warm, erotic excitement traveled up my legs and settled in the pocket of my sex. It frightened and yet intrigued me. Should I be having these feelings? Do all girls who sleep together experience them? Does it mean anything?
I tried to move away from her, but she held on firmly in her sleep. Images in a slow, syrupy way began to flow under my closed eyelids. I felt Tyler's fingers on my nipples again. I saw myself beside Echo gazing in the mirror at our bodies. The excitement began to grow stronger inside me. This wasn't the first time I had experienced this, but with Echo beside me. I was embarrassed by my own oncoming sexual crescendo. I tried to hold my breath, to slow my heart, to think of something else, but it was relentless, my heart now like a parade drum pounding a march to accompany the promenade of sexual images. She had pressed herself closer to me and when she moved. I suddenly thought she might be having an erotic experience as well.
What about that? I wondered, She was old enough now. She had her period. She read about people being in love. She surely had sexual fantasies about Tyler. Although she had wanted to talk about all this. I had been avoiding it. How could I. with my little experience, give her any sensible advice anyway? I was still unsure about myself.
Many times I was tempted to ask Brenda how she first knew she was a lesbian. When she found herself attracted to another woman, did she know if she was bisexual or simply attracted to a friend? Did she know what she was from a very early age? I knew she never had a conversation about it with our mother and certainly not with our father. Was there someone with whom she would have such a discussion? I couldn't remember anyone with whom Brenda was that close. She certainly wasn't close to any other relative. Maybe she had formal discussions with the school nurse.
After I had discovered what she was and whom she loved, I read about lesbianism whenever I could. I knew that some women, just like some men, didn't discover these things about themselves until they were in their forties or fifties, and all that time, they had been living heterosexual lives. Some were even married. What a shocking revelation that must have been for their partners! Could such a thing happen to me? Would I find some young man. think I was in love, marry him, and then discover I was just like Brenda? What if I had children? What happens then? Do they hate me, find themselves embarrassed at the sight or the mere mention of me? What sort of fate was that?
Right now. I wasn't really worried about such an event, of course I didn't think I'd ever have a partner, male or female. The only one who would be shocked by my discoveries about myself would be me.
All these thoughts and feelings blossomed out of Echo's merely coming to my bed to get some comfort. She was years younger emotionally than her chronological age. She was like an eight-year-old when it came to something like this. But even adults get terrible nightmares and reach for someone in the night to reassure them. Mama once told me even Daddy had stunning nightmares and looked for the comfort of her embrace.
"We're all children at heart in one way or another." She explained when she had to reassure me after a terrible dream. "Don't be ashamed."
Ashamed? It was far too late for that. My nights are going to be filled with endless nightmares. I thought, and I'd have no one to embrace but myself. Maybe that was why I couldn't help enjoying the fact that Echo had come to me for such comfort, despite the way I was reacting to her body pressed against mine. It was all pure and good, truly innocent, wasn't it?
Pull yourself away and end it, a voice inside me urged. You're not capable of innocence.
Relax, another voice persuaded. Let it come and let it pass. Don't deny yourself any pleasure. Fate certainly doesn't deny you any pain.
I'm not sure Echo was aware of what happened to me next, but once again I couldn't stop myself. When it was over. I held my breath and listened to see if she had awoken. She was still breathing softly, regularly. I curled my body tighter and squeezed the pillow against my face so firmly. I almost smothered myself. All I wanted to do was sleep and forget, drive these troubling thoughts and questions into the darkness. For so many of us, sleep is truly a mercy. Finally, it was granted to me.
I woke when I felt a hand on my forehead. Mrs. Westington was standing there looking at me. The first thing I thought was she has found Echo in my bed with me and is very angy, but when I turned and looked. I discovered Echo was gone. I stared at the empty place beside me. Was she here or did I fantasize it? Neither answer would make me feel any better. I thought.
&n
bsp; "Well, you don't feel like you have any fever," Mrs. Westington said "How are you feeling, dear? I worried about you all night."
"I'm okay," I said. "Thank you.
"I can't imagine you running in that weather, especially wearing what you were wearing. Well, you're lucky. No sore throat?"
"No."
"That's good. You be more careful from now on. Young people think they're immortal. Take a letter. The Grim Reaper enjoys collecting the souls of children the most. But no more dark talk," she quickly vowed. "Since you're fine, we'll go ahead with our plans to go shopping. Right after breakfast. Trevor will drive us in the old station wagon." she said. "He's up early this morning cleaning it out. It's filthy from his silly vineyard. We'll go to one of those malls," she continued. "I want you to help me pick out some new clothing for Echo. She's growing out of everything, and it's long overdue she get herself a couple of bras. I realized that last night. She needs some new shoes. too. Can you do that?"
"Of course. I'd be happy to help,' I said. "Not that I'm any sort of expert when it comes to clothing."
"None of you young people are that. What children wear these days would make Casanova blush. Torn jeans, blouses you can see right through, panties that are no bigger than rubber bands, rings in belly buttons and noses. I don't want her in any of that," she said. "We'll go to good stores,"
"Okay," I said. but I didn't know what she meant by good stores. She had probably not done too much shopping recently. She's sure to be shocked by what's in fashion. I thought.
She looked at me. "You sure you're feeling okay?"
"Yes. I'm fine." I couldn't help wondering about Echo. Was she still upset. afraid?
"You look down in the dumps this morning. I want you to pick out something nice for yourself, too, when we get to the mall. Some pretty new dress or blouse and skirt, maybe, and new shoes, as well," she said.
"You don't need to do that for me. Mrs. Westington. You've done enough."
"What I don't need is for someone to tell me what I need and don't need to do." she retorted, pulling her shoulders up. 'I got money buried in cans all over this place. If I don't spend it. I'll forget where it is."
"No, you won't," I said. laughing.