Purple Panties - Page 55

After I stuff my carry-on in the overhead compartment and strap myself into seat D, row twenty-nine of Delta flight 1377, I recall Poetess’s elegance as she stood at the podium before a sea of professional women enrapt by the weekend’s guest of honor. She was eloquent and charismatic as she spoke of the inconveniences encountered by black women venturing out on their own in the business world. My eyes welled at the thought of her voice quivering when she shared how her late artist mother told her in childhood that colors are for canvases, not people; that she should think of herself as a blank canvas and paint whatever future she imagines for herself. I stare at her picture stored in my camera phone once more before I’m instructed to turn off all electronic devices. I close my eyes as roaring jet engines drown out the world. After this weekend, I’m going to be a blank canvas, too.

Charlotte Dare explores the titillating world of lesbian erotica from her laptop at coffee houses in southern Connecticut. Her fiction has appeared in Tales of Travelrotica for Lesbians, Vol. 2, Ultimate Lesbian Erotica 2008, and Wetter: More True Lesbian Sex Stories as well as in various online erotica journals.

The Next Girl

Tawanna Sullivan

R aina is my best friend—and I hate her. We’ve known each other for over ten years. If there was anyone who would have my back, it would be her.

Everything was fine until Raina started dating my next girl. The next girl is the woman you have your eye on while you’re trying to break up with your current girl. Jelisa Friday is a goddess. I’m not just talking about her smooth velvet voice or her delicious chocolate curves. She’s the kind of woman who can smile at you and all of your worries just fall away. She’s smart, sexy, and should have been mine.

I had been laying the groundwork with Jelisa for a few weeks. I still had love for Stephanie, but things hadn’t been working out for a while. Going home to her was like going into a war zone. I had timed it so that the transition from Steph to Jelisa would be seamless.

Now, let me set the scene for you. Stephanie and I are at the Allegro to cheer on one of her coworkers in the Mr. Gay USA competition. The house lights are down low and a dude in a thong is on stage flexing his muscles. Suddenly, Jelisa walks into the room and it’s like the whole world stops. Yes, even the men all paused. I didn’t hug her as usual—I’m not going to disrespect Steph to her face—but I made space for her at our table. That’s when I turned around and saw Raina beside her.

Neither announced they were on a date, but their actions proved it. Throughout the whole evening, there were sly touches on the arm and whispers. Jelisa loved the attention. They barely acknowledged our presence at all. After Mr. Gay USA had been crowned, Raina took her to some dark corner to do God knows what.

I couldn’t believe it. My best girl had stolen my next girl and there was nothing I could say about it.

Raina is a notorious playa; no woman can hold her attention for long. So, it didn’t surprise me when cracks started appearing in their relationship. We were back at the Allegro playing pool. I had just finished a new version of my Stephanie-is-getting-on-my-last-nerve rant, when Raina finally dropped the bombshell. “Jelisa is starting to move a little too fast for me.” Then she leaned over and ever so gently tapped the three ball into the right corner pocket.

I stepped back, took a sip of my whiskey sour, and nodded for her to continue. “She gave me a set of house keys,” Raina complained. “She’s expecting me to give her a key, too. My mother doesn’t even have the key to my place.” She tossed down a few peanuts and with a bank shot sunk the seven into a side pocket. “Narcia, this girl is talking domestic partnership. I’m just trying to make it to a six month anniversary.”

It was clear that Jelisa was about to get her feelings trampled on and I, Narcia, didn’t care. Served her ass right for not being patient and waiting for me.

Since I didn’t say anything—hey, I’m not Dr. Phil—Raina kept “processing” her feelings. Shot after shot, she whined about how she was nervous about settling down. “Honestly, I’m not trying to run away this time.”

At the end of the game, all Raina had to do was hit the eight ball into the right back pocket. Anyway, that’s the pocket any normal person would have chosen. A few other women had gathered around to cheer her on and she wasn’t about to disappoint her fans. She pointed her cue at the front left pocket. “Eight ball in the corner,” she announced and everyone “oohed” and “aahed” on cue.

When she slid the stick behind her back and winked at me, I looked away in disgust. Next thing I knew, everyone was clapping and Raina had a mini entourage escorting her to the bar.

That’s when I started thinking about how Raina never missed an opportunity to humiliate me. She’s a better pool player than me, so why the fancy shots? Just because she could. Raina knew how I felt about Jelisa and had no business stepping to her like that. She could have had any girl she wanted, but she had to take my next girl.

As you can see, that shit started eating me up on the inside. The idea hit me on the cab ride home. Why should Raina always have it her way? What if she was the one who got dumped? Even better, what if I stole Jelisa back…

This time was going to be different. I could do it all: get my next girl, make Steph my ex-girl, and burn my trifling best friend. The best part? Raina was going to help me do it.

Every woman, gay or straight, secretly suspects that her lover has or will cheat. It was easy to plant seeds of doubt. When Raina and I went to a football game, I would sneak out of the stands and make a call. “Jelisa, where’s your girl? She was supposed to meet me in front of the stadium a half-hour ago. Oh wait, here she comes.” Before I got back to my seat, Raina’s cell was going off.

During the next round of the pool tournament, I pretended to have a low battery and asked to borrow Raina’s phone. I put it in my pocket and conveniently “forgot” about it. Ms. Hustler was too busy performing tricks to realize it was missing. Jelisa had called five times during the night. When confronted, Raina simply told the truth and got chewed out for it.

I didn’t see Raina again until Steph decided to have a 70s throwback party. Her vision was to turn the basement into a disco and the first floor into a lounge. I recruited Rain

a to be the bartender and Jelisa volunteered to help Stephanie with the food. When Raina walked in I almost didn’t recognize her. She used to greet everyone with a smile and a hug. This time she didn’t even look us in the eyes. She just nodded her head and stood off to the side. You would have thought she was sick or something.

Steph had prepared lunch for us, but Raina wanted to get started. It was like she couldn’t wait to get up from under Jelisa. We’d just finished putting up the speakers, when the cooking crew announced they were making a grocery run. The door slammed shut behind them and it was like a weight fell off of Raina’s shoulders. “Jelisa acts like I’m fucking somebody if I’m out of her sight for two minutes.” She popped the caps off of two wine coolers and passed one to me. “Get this, I’m not doing anything. I go from work to Jelisa’s house. If I go home to my apartment, she either calls twenty times for nothing or shows up at my doorstep because she misses me. How do I have time to cheat?”

While my best friend was fighting back tears, I had to take a quick sip to stop myself from breaking into nervous laughter. Honestly, I felt guilty. I thought Jelisa would dump her and Raina would feel the sting but bounce back. I offered her some practical advice. “Why don’t you just leave her? You’ve gotten so wrapped up in this chick that you are losing yourself.”

“I love her. She wasn’t this person when I met her. I want to get the real Jelisa back.”

True to form, once the party started Jelisa was right at the bar monitoring Raina’s interactions. She was like a guard dog, ready to accidentally bump or shove aside any woman who was being too friendly. Everyone knew something was wrong and Steph was two seconds from going off on Jelisa herself.

As usual, it was up to me to save the day. I put on Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls,” grabbed Jelisa’s hand, and forced her to dance. It’s like the entire crowd sighed in relief. The whole room was shaking its groove thing.

My boy Carlos took over the turntables for me so I could go outside for a minute. My little polyester suit was drenched with sweat. I was holding a cold bottle of water to my forehead when I heard the screen door open and close behind me. It was a slightly tipsy Jelisa.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” she asked.

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