Only one table was occupied. Three women in scrubs, who looked as if they’d just gotten off work, were eating breakfast. Cece asked the waitress if we could have a booth in back and we slid in opposite each other. Cece propped her elbows on the table and spread out her hands. I intertwined my fingers with hers. I loved her hands. So strong. Soft. Loved all her rings.

"What would you ladies like?” the waitress asked.

“Black coffee," Cece answered, her eyes not leaving mine. “Better make it decaf.”

“Make mine a hot chocolate." I smiled up at the waitress.

"You got it."

She left and Cece said, “I love you.”

“Do you?” After today I wasn’t so sure.

“No." She shook her head. “No, I only get up at the butt-crack of dawn so I can pretend we're having breakfast together at our lockers. I don’t even have a seven o‘clock class, you know. I dropped it after the first day.”

“What!”

“Then I have to haul ass down three flights of stairs to pass you in the hall between third and fourth period. And I stall around outside the restroom by the art studio so I can watch you walking down the hall. I’m late to algebra every day. I love the way you move, by the way.” She eyed me up and down. Then her eyes darkened and she added, “I tried to bribe that idiot Winslow to switch seats with me, but he's got the hots for you bad."

"You bribed Winslow?" I let out a short laugh. "How much?”

She huffed. “Twenty bucks. I told him if that wasnʼt enough, I’d have sex with him. But he still wouIdn't move.”

l burst into laughter. She disengaged our hands and started checking off on her fingers. “Let's see, l drive by Children’s Cottage after school to see if you’re there yet, to see if l can catch a glimpse of you in the window. I go by your house on the way to school. Sometimes from the library, l’d watch you guys leave for lunch. A couple of times I even followed you so I could maybe find out what you liked to eat. So I'd know if I ever, ever got to take you out…" She paused and glanced away. “But that was too hard, seeing you with him.”

“Okay, stop.” I had a lump in my throat the size of a water melon. Thankfully the waitress brought our drinks, so I had a few moments to compose myself. My God, she felt the same way I did. Totally, unabashedly in love. We lifted our cups in unison, took a sip, and studied each other. Cece set her cup down first. “We can’t be together at school, Holland. Or anywhere people might know us. Know you.”

I blew on my cocoa and frowned up at her. "Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to have to go through the bullshit.”

“But –"

She held up a hand. "You don’t know what it’s like. The locker thing was just a minor incident. Okay, it probably qualified as a full-fledged hate crime, but it didn’t cost anything. Not like my slashed tires.”

My jaw unhinged. “Somebody slashed your tires? Who? Is that what happened in the school parking lot?”

"School. The mall. You name it. That kind of stuff you can fix. It’s the other things, the whispering behind your back, the laughing at you in your face, like you don’t even have feelings. Want to know how many times I get called ‘dyke’ every day? Gee, I don't know," she cocked her head, “I’ve lost count. It's the ones who give you the look, though…" She shook her head. “There’s so much hate in people. It scares me, okay? I’m really afraid of physical violence. That day at the juice machine? God, that totally freaked me. Not that I’m going to let the fear control me, or make me afraid to be who I am. I’m proud of being gay. But it took a long time for me to get there. I had to put up with a lot of shit. And I can’t stand the thought of you going through it, through any of it.” Her voice caught.

I reached over and fondled a ring on her index finger. Silver, etched with a zigzag pattern. “I can handle it, Cece.”

“WeII, I can’t," she snapped. “Look.” She flipped her hands over and took mine into them. “You only have a couple more months till you graduate, right? Then you’ll be away from everyone you know. Not that society's any better, but it’s easier to blow off complete strangers. Plus," she ran her thumbs down mine, "I don't think you understand all the consequences of your decision.”

“It wasn’t a decision. I’m this way.”

“Whatever. You haven’t come to terms with what it means to be a Lesbian.”

A lesbian? Is that what I was? I hadn’t thought about a new self-identity. A label. All I knew was, I loved her.

She probed my face, my eyes. "Theres a lot you have to work through, Holland. Trust me. This is going to hit you.”

Hit me. I imagined being on the receiving end of all the sickos, felt the truth of her knowledge and experience seep in. Cece and I both took deep breaths and let them out. She withdrew her hands and, with her index finger, circled the rim of her cup. “I hate to even say this, but think of what your coming out now, in public, would do to Seth?”

Seth. How insensitive could I be? People would be cruel. His family, friends, Coop. "You're right.” I nodded. “Youʼre right.” I sat back, folding my arms across my chest. He didn’t deserve that. My love for her had nothing to do with him.

“Promise you won't tell anyone?” Cece said. “Not yet, anyway?”

I met her eyes — her worried, panicked eyes. And understood completely her wanting to protect me. I never, ever wanted to see her hurt again. “I promise.”

“Good.” She exhaled relief. Lifting her cup, she poised to drink and smiled at me. “Until then,” she said, “until it’s time, I’m keeping you a secret.”

Chapter 18

We tried to figure out between our killer schedules when we could be together. Cece helped her mom cater parties on the weekends and occasionally got a performance art gig. Southglenn wasn't going to the state swim meet — big surprise — so that obligation would drop off my schedule soon. During the week the only time Cece was free was after work, at eleven PM. I suggested we meet before school, too.

“The pool opens at six and it’s deserted down there until six forty-five or seven,” I told her. "There's this faculty shape-up in the gym three times a week, but they don't usually get started until after seven.”

Cece groaned.

“Hey." I yanked down the bill of her baseball cap. “We all have to make sacrifices.”

It was hard staying away from her at school. She must’ve still been seeking me out between classes because we passed in the hall three or four times a day. Whenever we did she’d make eye contact and, without changing her expression, press a closed fist to her heart. It sent a jolt of electricity through me every time.

For the next two weeks I snuck out every night to meet her – our clandestine rendezvous at the Blue Onion. Afterwards, Cece called me on my cell phone to wish me goodnight and we’d fall asleep with the phone to our ears. It was exciting, like having a secrete lover. She was exciting. My life amped up in volume.

One evening I floated in after work and Mom was at the stove grilling hamburgers. “Oh, yum.” l hugged her around the middle. “l am so hungry.”

“Something came for you today," she said.

“What?” I rested my head on hers.

"lt's in the living Room.”

I wandered out, giving Hannah a belly tickle in Neal’s lap. “Oh, my God.” My feet skidded to a stop. “Are these for me?”

Mom stood behind me, wiping her hands on a dish towel."Your name’s on the card.”

I’d never seen so many roses. There must’ve been two dozen, in a gorgeous crystal vase. Yellow roses, my favorite. My stomach dropped. Not Seth. Oh, no. He wouldn’t. On the rare occasion we crossed paths anymore, he barely acknowledged my existence.

From the vase atop the TV, I removed the floral shop card from its envelope and read it to myself:

For my sweetheart. Together Forever. I love you C.

“Let me see." Mom extended her hand.

I slapped the card to my chest. “It’s personal.”

Mom smiled. “Things seem to be heating up between you two. I've noticed how happy you seem lately. Should I be pricing wedding gowns?”

Neal went, “Uh-oh.”

My face flared. A pang of sadness pierced my heart. There’d never be a wedding gown. There’d never be a wedding.

As I lifted the vase, Mom whined, "Oh, couldn’t you leave them up here for all of us to enjoy?”

"Maybe later.” I smiled at her, then Neal. "l sort of want to enjoy them myself first.”

Mom squeezed my arm on the way past. “Holland, I do have one concern." She held onto me. “This staying out so late with him every night — you're still in school, you know.”

Shit. She’d noticed. “I’m keeping up," I lied. For the first time ever, I’d flunked a test. And I had a ten-page history report due tomorrow that I hadn't even started. School seemed so trivial now. Everything did. “I’m not spending all my time with him. Sometimes I just go to Starbucks to get away from —" I didn’t finish, since Neal was all ears.

Mom cast me a dour look. But she released me and I fled.

Faith leapt off her bed when she saw me pass with the flowers. She seemed to be here all the time now. Of course, my sense of time and space was distorted. I existed on another plane, in another dimension. "Wow,” Faith said at my back. “She must love you a lot."

My heart stopped. I set the vase on my dresser and rotated slowly in place. “What did you say?”

Faith smirked. “I’m not stupid, you know. This partition isn’t exactly soundproof.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. She’d been listening in on our conversations. Faith grinned, evilly, and retreated to her half of the crypt. This feeling of foreboding dropped over me like a shroud.

***

Friday after school l slammed my locker, and yelped. Seth was standing there, arms crossed. “Hi,” I said, taking a step back. He exuded anger. I’d seen him earlier at the student council meeting, where he now sat as far away from me as possible. Kirsten had snagged me after the meeting to ask what was going on be tween us. I told her, “We broke up.”

“What?” I thought her eyes would tall out of her head and roll down the hall. “Oh, my God, Holland. When?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

Kirsten frowned. “Did you tell Leah?”

“No." Leah had called me, when? Last weekend? But I hadn’t gotten back to her. I was a little distracted.

“What the hell happened?” Kirsten said. “Did he –”

"Yeah," I didn’t let her finish. “You know, I really don’t want to talk about it." I’d bolted, leaving her jaw dangling. Let her think he’d done it to me. Save his dignity, at least.

“I want my stuff out of your Jeep," Seth growled, jolting me back to the moment.

“Okay. Iʼm sorry, I forgot it was there.”

He pivoted and headed for the exit. Cece had just arrived at her locker and either heard or felt the earth rumblings. We shared a grimace.

I scurried after Seth. When he got to the Jeep, he stood stiffly, glaring off across the emptying parking lot. I unlocked the driver's side and grabbed his sleeping bag and Coleman stove, a hockey stick and puck. I handed them around to him. Without a word, he left. He’d only taken a couple of steps before turning back and asking, “What did we have, Holland? Tell me that. Were you just faking it?"

Oh, God. I didn't want to have this confrontation. Not now, not ever. What could I tell him? Our relationship was a lie, Seth. I was lying to myself. But it wasn’t an act with you. Not entirely.

What he was asking… the faking it part. Did he know the truth? Suspect it? My heart hammered. I opened my mouth to say… say what? There was nothing I could say.

Before stalking off, he nailed me with a look that made my blood run cold.

I sensed her behind me. “I think he knows," I said.

“How could he?"

I shook my head. "I don't —” The answer presented itself. “Faith.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Faith," Cece said. "She wouldn't tell.”

I just looked at Cece. She didn’t know Faith the way I did.

***

Cece and I spent Saturday together. The whole glorious day. We went to IHOP for a late breakfast, then drove to the mountains and parked. An open space trail led into Arapaho National Forest, so we followed it, holding hands and talking, sharing our most intimate thoughts and dreams, sharing ourselves. We hardly noticed the snow begin to fall.

When we got back to the Jeep, I cranked up the heater and we started to kiss. It ended the way it always did.

“Cece,” I whispered hoarsely in her car as we huddled under a blanket in the back, clinging to each other and freezing to death, “l hate this. We need to find a place.”

“l know,” she said, still breathing hard. “I’ve been working on it.”

“Work faster." l told her.

On Monday, a pink construction paper heart with a HER-SHEY’S KISS rubber-cemented in the middle was taped to my locker shelf. She’d been leaving KISSES for me to find ever since Valentines Day. In my coat pocket, in my dutiful.

Over, with an arrow, was printed on the front of the heart. I flipped it.

Tonight my love, she’d written. Meet me after work. WE HAVE A PLACE.