“Fair enough, but I don’t think you’ll have to wait too long. Give me three minutes to make a pitch and your gratitude for knowing me may just burst out of you like little rays of cheesy sunshine.” Hal sat on the bench facing out with her elbow resting on the table beside her. “When you phrase it like that, how can I tell you no?” “You can’t tell me no, Hal.” Quinn flashed a smile that seemed more practiced and controlled than the earlier one, but still very effective.

“Yes. I did that so you-we-wouldn’t have to face it. I left because that’s what you wanted. I left because…well, because I knew it would be awkward. And I knew we wouldn’t have any rationalization as to why we did what we did.”

“Swallowing to reintroduce moisture to her suddenly dry mouth, Aimee found herself transfixed by Justine’s questioning eyes. What was she if she wasn’t friend or foe? Justine inched closer and Aimee wet her lips as she tried to formulate a response. “You’re…” Aimee said too breathlessly for her liking. She sounded like a love-struck fool. Trying to sound more assertive, she cleared her throat and tried again.”

“When you become close friends with someone, especially a fellow lesbian, there comes a time when you just cross over into the platonic-only zone, and you start seeing the person differently. More like family than a potential love interest. That’s how I’ve regarded Katherine for a while now, although, as I was tossing and turning through the night, I had to-very freely-admit that, between her and me, there’s always been this undercurrent of possibility.”

“What about love? Does that factor in at all here? Because I’m pretty sure difficult and irrational are part of the definition of love, Cici,” Rorie countered. “And it’s not like easy is an option for everybody.” There was a bitterness in her tone that Cecily couldn’t quite figure out.