The Matchmaker's Choice: A Lesbian Romance

When I get to Steph’s, the first thing she does is offer

me tea.

“I got this new Earl Gray raspberry tea. Do you want to

try it? I don’t even know what kind of tea you like.”

Her voice is light. Her beautiful smile is genuine. She

looks happy. She’s wearing black skinny jeans and a black-

and-white tight-fitting t-shirt that has a picture of a beaker and

a test tube and says Proud Lab Geek. It doesn’t look like

there’s anything wrong. It doesn’t seem like there’s anything

wrong. I just can’t shake the feeling that there is something

wrong. My stomach feels twisty and my lungs don’t function

like they should when I think about there being something

wrong with Steph. With me. With us. We’re so new, but losing

someone right at the start often hurts more than at the end. At

the end, there’s so much shit built up that it can feel good to

get out of it.

I’m scared.

“Sure. I love any kind of tea. And coffee. I have very

low standards when it comes to both. I can’t tell a bad one

from a good one.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. But this tea. Oh my

god! I ordered it from a student’s mom. She sells it for some

company. I picked out a couple flavors and this one is insanely

good. You’d think it’s full of sugar and heavy cream, but

there’s nothing in it. It tastes like really good raspberry

chocolate. But not chocolatey. Just how that would taste when

you can really taste the berries in it.”

Instead of sitting down and waiting, I follow Steph into

the kitchen and watch her, standing awkwardly off to the side.

She doesn’t seem to notice.