Last Night at the Telegraph Club(61)

After the Nativity scene ended, the dance club trotted onstage in their pink ballet slippers to the music from The Nutcracker. The girls in their pink tutus twirled with varying skill, kicking up their legs exuberantly as they spun. Each time they kicked, their tutus flew up, exposing their black leotards beneath in brief dark flashes. Lily had seen the dance club’s Nutcracker routine every Christmas throughout high school, but this year she was newly aware of what she was watching. The girls’ legs and the shadows between them; the curves of their thighs and calves; the cleavage made visible by their low-cut leotards. The dancers must have always looked like this, but Lily felt as if this was the first time she truly saw them: the weight of their bodies; their aliveness and the warmth of their pink skin. A couple of boys in the row ahead of Lily whistled and hooted, and when a teacher came down the aisle to shush them, Lily dropped her gaze to her knees as if she had been admonished herself. There was a difference between those boys’ whistles and what she had been thinking, but she wasn’t sure why or how. She only knew she felt caught, and her face flushed. She was glad the auditorium was dark.

Her mind flitted back to the club, remembering Kath’s pleased expression after Rhonda had called her a baby butch. Lily had understood that at a gut level; she had seen it not only in Kath’s hint of a smile but in the way she held her body. Almost like Tommy.



* * *



—

“I’ll meet you at your locker in a few minutes,” Lily told Shirley as they left the assembly.

“We have to go soon,” Shirley said. “What do you have to do?”

“I have to go get something,” Lily said vaguely, and slipped away before Shirley could further question her. She had seen Kath heading down the hall toward her locker and she wanted to catch her before she left, but the crowd seemed to be purposely getting in her way. Every time she dodged one person, another seemed to pop up in front of her, and by the time she reached the locker, Kath was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, Lily spun around, searching for her, and at last she spotted Kath going toward the main doors. She rushed after her and finally caught up, reaching for Kath’s shoulder.

“Kath!”

She turned in surprise.

“I have to talk to you.” Lily’s hand slid down Kath’s arm. She took Kath’s hand and pulled her toward the edge of the hall as she sought out a quiet place. It was a zoo, with everyone rushing to pack up and leave. Lily saw the half-open door to the supply room just past the main office, and she tugged Kath after her, not stopping until they were inside with the door closed, the sound of the students’ exodus abruptly muffled.

The room was little more than a closet, longer than it was wide, and barely wider than the door itself. The walls were lined with shelves; the shelves were stacked with reams of paper and manila folders and boxes of pens and pencils. Overhead a flat fluorescent light panel reminded Lily of the back corner of Thrifty Drugs—she hadn’t been there since the last time she went with Kath—and she realized she was still holding Kath’s hand. She let go. Her palm was sweaty.

Kath stood with her back to a wall of file folders, looking a little confused. “What’s going on?”

Lily spoke in a rush. “I wanted to catch you before Christmas—I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. Shirley’s taking up all my time with Miss Chinatown.”

“I know,” Kath said. “You told me.”

The fluorescent light made Kath’s pale skin look even paler and turned her blue eyes into a faded gray. Kath had cut her hair, Lily realized. Not to an extreme; it had just been a trim, but it was more closely shaped around her head now. Lily could see how Kath could comb it differently, and it would make her look almost like a boy. The thought was surprising, and as if Kath could read her mind, she slid her hands into the pockets of her jacket and shifted her posture, almost like a boy.

“Has something changed?” Kath asked. “Are you running for Miss Chinatown too?”

Lily’s eyebrows shot up. “Me? Oh no. I’m no beauty queen.”

Kath smiled a little. “I don’t know about that.”

Lily’s face heated up. She looked past Kath’s shoulder at the stacks of manila folders and bit her lip. She couldn’t remember what she had wanted to say anymore. She thought wildly of Rhonda and the Nutcracker dancers and her awareness of Kath’s sudden boyishness—or had it always been there?

“What’s going on?” Kath asked again. “Is something bothering you? I know you’ve been busy lately . . .” Kath gave her an uncertain look.

“I’m sorry,” Lily said awkwardly. “I feel like—like something’s wrong. Is something wrong? Between us?” She twisted her hands together, her flushed face going even hotter.

Kath gave her a funny look, wariness combined with surprise. “I don’t—why do you think something’s wrong?”

“Is it because of Shirley? She’s very demanding, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t want—don’t want to be your friend.” Lily flinched at her clumsy phrasing.

Kath shifted, readjusting the strap of her book bag, and her wariness seemed to increase. “To be honest, she doesn’t seem like that good of a friend.”

“She’s my best friend,” Lily said, and then sighed.