My Life with the Rymans

Chapter 33

Saturday rolls around and I pick Sam up on the way to Jillian's apartment. "Brooks said Devin is in Florida this weekend like you thought so you can breathe now," she laughs. I do too and I'm thankful. "Brooks and I talked about your break up with Devin. It's made me nervous about our relationship but I think we're gonna power through." I smile, "that's great, Sam. I never meant to make you question your relationship. I know the circumstances are similar but I'm sure you guys will be fine." She squeezes my hand. I truly hope it works out for them, I don't think it will, but I don't dare tell her that.

The regular crowd fills Jillian's living area and kitchen. I say hi to Beth and Danny and Jillian hands Sam and I a couple of Jell-O shots. "A Beth special," Jillian winks. "Beth, you're the best," I say as I down both shots. "I really am," Beth agrees, giggling.

I make myself a vodka with club soda and look for limes in Jillian's fridge. "Yo, Jill, you seriously don't have any freaking limes?", I whine out. I close the fridge door and Tori appears as if out of nowhere.  I jump. "How the hell should I know?", Jillian calls back to me in between kissing Brendan. Tori laughs, "here, I think there are some in the cooler back here." She leads me to the back hallway by the patio door. There's a large igloo cooler full of beer and sure enough, on the side there's a bag of limes tucked in the side. "Help yourself, I'm always prepared for anything," she says with a tiny giggle. "Thanks," I say and grab a lime. "Anytime, er...forgive me," she mutters. "Lizzy. It's Lizzy, Liz. Whatever," I squeak out, mesmerized by how fucking cool she is. She's wearing a black corset top with black jeans topped with a classic trench coat. I would never think to put an outfit like that together but it just... works. She reminds me of a tattooed Jennifer Connelly. This is the first time I notice how tall she is. She must be 5'10. "I'm meeting some friends at a bar down the street but I'll be back later, see you 'round, Lizzy," she says. "I hope so," I whisper, because my throat is so dry I can't speak. She laughs and is gone.

I sip my drink, frozen on a bar stool. I literally can't move. I've never been so intimidated yet so turned on in my life. There's absolutely no way Tori is into me. I look like any other girl on the street with basic features and the same tired wardrobe as everyone else. She's the total opposite, a biker chic goddess with the most striking blue eyes I've ever laid my own eyes on. She doesn't even have to wear makeup, I'm actually pretty sure she doesn't. I can't stop thinking about her and the way she says my name with the slightest bit of rasp in her voice. I decide to push all of it down. Devin and I just broke up. I can't do this. I don't have time for it. I'm gone in 2 weeks and she'll forget I even exist.

The night continues and everyone is outside. Most people are dancing and others are smoking cigarettes and talking. The apartment has a surprisingly nice, spacious courtyard. Beth and I sit on the patio chairs, both drinking vodka sodas talking about next year. She says almost bluntly, "I heard about you and Devin. I'm really sorry, Liz. But I totally get it. You're gonna have a fucking blast at UGA." I smile, "thanks, Beth. I'd love for you to come visit Sam and I." She agrees and I feel myself getting tipsy. I'm not really sad like I feel like I should be, I'm more feeling...hopeful. Scared as shit, but hopeful.

Around 11:30 I head in the apartment to grab some water. Tori is seated on the couch in the living room on the phone. I try to be quiet but I'm quite drunk by now. The ice thuds into my glass and she stares at me smiling while continuing to talk on the phone. I stand in the kitchen drinking my water, pretending to anyway, while I linger listening to her conversation. "...yeah, Tiff, I know, I know. I'm fine, I called you didn't I? Just like I said I would. Dude, relax. Listen, I'll call you tomorrow." She hangs up the phone. "My sister," she says, "she can be a little overprotective of me," she rolls her eyes. I sigh and sit on the chair next to her. "I always wanted a sister but I'm an only child," I say. "Oh? You can have mine," she laughs, "no, she's great, really. She's 4 years older than me. Just got married to the most amazing man a few months ago. It was quick, but when you know, you know, right?", she says. "Yeah, when you know, you know," I repeat staring at her a little too hard. "So, whats your story, Lizzy Liz?" I laugh at her joke from when I introduced myself. "Uh, nothing really interesting. I've lived in a small town not far from here my whole life, had a typical childhood. Oh, my boyfriend and I broke up yesterday, so that's new, but it was for the best," I weakly laugh. "I find it very hard to believe you aren't interesting. I am sorry about your break up, that's tough, trust me, I can sympathize," she says genuinely and I have millions of butterflies in my stomach. "What about you," I ask. She shifts in her seat, "well, been here a little over a year, moved with my sister on a whim as a 21 year old with no fucking clue and nothing to lose. I knew I was interested in cosmetology so after working in the bar scene I thought I'd give it a try. I still bartend at Friar's in Midtown." I nod, "Jillian said you had a girlfriend in Chicago," I ask knowing the answer but dying for more information. "I did. I don't anymore. I'm not really dating much. Haven't really met anyone worth my time, yet. There aren't as many lesbians here compared to Chicago believe it or not," she laughs. "You're bisexual, right," she asks me. I swallow hard and clear my throat, "y-yes. I am. Or pansexual. I'm not sure." God, I sound like an idiot. She shrugs, "the label doesn't matter, babe." I say nothing, just nodding like an absolute lunatic. After a moment, she asks, "I like you, Liz. You're easy to talk to. Would you be interested in getting a drink sometime?" My eyes go wide and I wonder if I'm imagining all of this for a second. I say, "uh, yeah, I'd like that. But I am leaving for college in 2 weeks," I assure her. She laughs, "who cares? It's just a drink, no pressure." I bite my lip and smile, "no pressure," I repeat.