2017 Lesbian story: The Night Zoe & Michele Raised Hell – Chapter 3
The Eastside bar was dim, the bottles faded, the TV only half-functional, and the walls covered with hunting trophies from a previous century, antlers bristling like a phalanx of spears trying to prod Michele away.
It was noon exactly, and Zoe was the only one working, tying her curly hair back with a scrunchie and wearing a black tank top despite the cold weather. She’d grown curvier and more full in the face since Michele saw her last, but still mostly like her old self. Michele approached the bar but didn’t sit at first, waiting for Zoe to see her and register surprise.
But she didn’t look surprised at all. She just turned from the tap she‘d been pouring—Sierra Nevada Nooner Pilsner, Michele’s favorite—and slammed it down right in front of Michele with the foam still streaming down the side and said, “You’re here.”
Sitting on a stool, Michele held her purse between her legs. “Yeah, I’m here. Surprise.”
“I was expecting you.”
“Mom told you I was coming?”
“Nope. Just expecting you is all. This first one’s on me. Celebration for your big homecoming. Come here and let me see you.”
Zoe reached across the bar and cupped Michele’s face, turning it left and right to inspect, and Michele was so surprised for a second that she didn’t object.
“You look good,” Zoe said. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t. Less pressure on me, you know? That means you’re buying the next round.”
She poured herself a Blindfold Ale, her arms snapping the tap on and off with machine-like precision. When she was finished she half-raised her pint in a toast. “Here’s to good reunions,” she said, and drank half of hers in one go. “You’re not drinking?”
“It’s barely noon.”
“I know, but I’ve got to stay buzzed to keep ahead the hangover from last night.”
Then she smiled, a quick white flash that moved her entire face, and for a startling second made her look exactly like she had when they were ten. Leaning across the bar, she hugged Michele—not a casual, single-armed hug, but a big, full embrace—and Michele found herself smiling and hugging back.
“You do look good,” Zoe said. “Your mom said you were doing okay and now I know she’s not lying. You sure stayed away long enough.”
Sipping her beer, Michele said, “I’ve been back a few times. I just—”
“Didn’t see me. Yeah, it’s okay. I wouldn’t see me either, and I am me.” She paused to pour a beer for someone else “You gonna want another one?”
“I’m not done with—”
“I’ll start a tab for you. Since you’re never coming back you’ll never have to pay it. Works out.” She smiled again, but this time she didn’t look so young.
It got later. They had a few more drinks. They talked about friends from high school—or more accurately, about Michele’s friends, since Zoe had few to speak of—and strained to remember stories from childhood.. Zoe asked about Michele’s classes and looked genuinely interested in the answers.
At first Michele was surprised by how natural it felt for the two of them to be talking again. But after a while she forgot to even bother with surprise. Neither of them left when Zoe‘s shift ended, instead retiring to a corner table with a pitcher that seemed to refill as if by magic.
“So he fired me last year,” Zoe was saying. “But anyway, he’d do it with a vacuum cleaner if he got bored enough.”
“Oh god, that‘s what Mom said too,” Michele said, snorting.
“She knows ’em when she sees ’em. So tell me about this guy you’re fucking?”
Blinking, Michele sat up straight. “Malcolm? He’s my boyfriend. We met over the summer. It hasn‘t been that long but we’re…kind of engaged? Sort of thinking about being engaged?” She put a hand on her head, they’d gone through too many pitchers for her to be sorting through the ins and outs of her relationship now.
Shaking her head, Zoe said, “No you’re not. Come on. You’re, what, barely 21? You’re not going to marry some guy now. Stupidest thing you could do.”
“Not now. Just, you know, sometime.” Michele gestured and knocked the pitcher, but it didn’t fall over.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,“ Zoe said. “And I’m not coming to the wedding, so I’ll never see it. I’m not big on weddings. Not the marrying type.”
“You’re the type to spit out a guy’s bones and bury them in the yard.”
“Uh uh. I never spit. Always swallow.”
Michele laughed again. Now Zoe leaned back too and looked at her sideways. “How about you tell me why you’re dropping in all of a sudden?” she said.
“Huh?”
“I mean, catching up and all is fine. Plus, drinking with you for an afternoon counts as socializing, instead of drinking alone, which only counts as a problem. But you’re up here out of nowhere on a weekday during the school year and suddenly you want to see me. So what‘s the deal?”
Geez, do I really seem so suspicious, Michele thought? She wanted to get defensive but realized she couldn’t. “I…” She let the word linger for as long as she could, then changed the subject. “You expected me,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“Just got a good feeling. You’re not going to tell me what’s up? Guess I’ll have to get you even more drunk than you are now.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Stand up.”
As soon as she did Michele stumbled. Zoe caught her. The bar had filled up a bit, and some people looked. Steadying herself with a hand on the wall, Michele almost lost a finger to a pair of low-hanging antlers.
“Ohhh shoot,” she said. “I can’t drive home now. To Mom’s, I mean.”
“You’re not going home,” Zoe said, slinging Michele’s arm over her shoulder like a wounded soldier being carried off the battlefield. “My place is just behind the Safeway on Jackson, we can walk it. Your mom knows you’re staying over.”
“She does?”
“Yeah. Come on, upsy-daisy, one foot at a time.”
They half stumbled to the parking lot. Michele was stunned to see that it was night already. “How long were we in there?”
“Long enough. Fucking hell, is this fastest you can walk?”
“I don’t like to drink that much…”
“Could have fooled me.”
The walk home took a while. Zoe’s place was on the ground floor of the Garden Homes apartments. It was a two bedroom apartment, but it looked like she lived alone. Michele saw that the extra bedroom was closed with a heavy padlock on the outside, but as drunk as she was she didn’t bother asking why.
As soon as they were in the door Zoe broke out the hard liquor. Michele knew she shouldn’t have any, but she couldn’t say no. A few more drinks and she wouldn’t be able to say anything at all…
They drank screwdrivers on the couch. Nothing but a string of white Christmas lights lit the living room—“Cheaper on the PG&E bill,” Zoe said. Michele watched the contents of her glass as she swirled it.
“I think I needed that,“ she said. “This I mean. What we’re doing.”
“Drinking on the couch?”
“No, just…” She fumbled. “I missed you.”
“Careful, I’ll get teary.”
“Cunt.”
“You love it.” She paused. “I missed you too though. Even before you left. You know, back when you got all weird and stopped talking to me.”
“I didn’t get weird, you got weird.”
“I was always weird. You got normal. And that was weird.”
“It wasn‘t that. It was…”
Zoe sat forward. “Ohhh, now we’re getting to the interesting part. Finally feel like spilling what’s been on your mind?”
Going to take another drink, Michele found that her glass was empty. She put it down. “Halloween is Sunday. Day after tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember…I mean, when we were kids, ten years ago. Do you remember when we…”
“Called up the devil?”
“No. I mean, yes, that’s what we wanted to do.”
“And we did it. You don’t remember?”
“I remember…”
For a second Michele had a vivid hallucination of a man whose face she couldn’t see walking down the darkened basement steps. But she batted it away almost instantly.
“I don’t remember what I remember. But I know we did something we shouldn’t have. It scared me. And it didn’t scare you, and that scared me worse.”
Zoe put her own glass down. It was still sweating. “That’s why you came back? Halloween?”
“I…yes. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. So I came here to ask if we can, you know, undo it? Whatever we did. If that makes sense?”
Michele searched Zoe’s face, expecting confusion, amusement, or even mockery. What she saw instead surprised her: absolute shock, laced with genuine hurt.
“Are you kidding me?” Zoe said, almost standing up. “That was the best thing that ever happened to us!”
Blinking, Michele said, “It was?”
“Of course you idiot. Didn’t you ever realize? Look, you’re doing premed now? I bet you barely study for your tests but always gets A’s, right?”
“I’m smart.”
“But what did you wish for on Halloween?”
“I don’t know, you wished for me.”
“That you’d always get good grades no matter what. And you always did.”
“Okay, but—”
“And what did I want? No more Eddie, no more boyfriends for mom. A week later Mom dumped Eddie, and there was never anyone else.”
“Yeah, okay—”
“All the good stuff in life is because of what we did that night,” Zoe said, plowing on.
“What about the bad stuff?”
“Who knows? All I know is—fuck this, I need shots. Come on.”
In the kitchen, Zoe splashed tequila into plastic shot glasses. She tossed hers back right away and signaled with a rotating finger that Michele should do the same, then slapped her on the back as she coughed afterward.
“Why is this coming up now anyway?” Zoe said. “Holy shit, this isn’t something about that guy, is it? Mark?”
“Malcolm. Yeah, I mean, that’s part of it. But the real reason is I never liked it. I never thought we should do it. I want to get rid of it finally. And also I’ve been…seeing things. Sometimes…”
They stared at each other for a long time. Michele thought about the North-Going Zax and the South-Going Zax, stuck looking at each other forever because neither would budge.
But Zoe broke the stare down first by rolling her eyes. “You sure that’s the real reason you came? Don’t you want something else?”
“Like what?” Michele said. She was trying very hard not to sway on her feet. Zoe propped her up with an arm around her, then looked her straight in the eyes.
“Like me, maybe?” Zoe said. Michele choked again.
“Excuse me?”
“Come on. You’re not fooling me. Don’t tell me you never thought about it?”
“I…that’s none of your business,” Michele said, twisting away so that Zoe couldn’t see her blush. She felt Zoe’s eyes on the back of her head.
“None of my business, huh?” the other girl said. And then she swept the plastic glasses into the sink. “If you say so. But why are you back here then?”
“I told you why.”
“I don’t buy it. I think the real reason is you can’t get me off your mind. You’re crazy about me. Right?”
“No!” Michele wanted to leave the kitchen but Zoe was in the way. The kitchen light behind Zoe’s head framed her in shadow. She moved in close now, smelling like tequila and perfume. “Prove it. Give me one kiss and tell me you don‘t like it.”
“Why would I do that?”
“For old time’s sake?”
Michele realized she was staring at Zoe’s lips. “I’m drunk,“ she said. “You’re drunk.”
“Perfect excuse. Kiss me.”
Their lips were only a few inches apart. Michele recognized the look in Zoe’s eyes; it was a look that said, “Don’t let me down.”
“Zoe…”
And as they both leaned in…
That’s all Michele could remember.
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