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“I have a labrys on my left hip and tomor—”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Morgan interrupted. “My vocabulary is pretty friggin’ amazing but you’ve stumped even me with that one. You have a what on your left hip?”
Chloë chuckled.
“A labrys. It’s a double-bladed axe. I’d show it to you but…” and here Chloë used her hands to gesture down her body, “…I’d have to basically hike up my dress so much that they’d kick us out of this fine establishment.”
Morgan reached for her glass of water and took a sip.
“Um…so what…so what are you getting done tomorrow?” she asked, convincing herself that she had not just been imagining Chloë hiking up her dress.
“I’m getting a lesbian flag in the shape of a heart on my right hip.”
Morgan blinked.
“There’s a lesbian flag?”
“Actually, there’s, like, a bunch of different ones,” Chloë said, chuckling. “I’m getting the five-stripe version but I’m going to have Sienna place the heart inside the inverted black triangle symbol.”
“Sounds awesome,” Morgan said, telling herself to Google lesbian flag, inverted black triangle and labrys once she got home because she truly had no idea what Chloë was talking about.
“Hey, I have an idea!” Chloë said. “Are you doing anything tomorrow night?”
“Just unpacking all the boxes I’ve shamefully procrastinated on unpacking.”
Chloë waved that off.
“Dude, you can do that any night. Come with me to get my tattoo instead! You can see what it’s like. It’ll be fun!”
Morgan smiled. That did sound like fun and, if she was being honest with herself, she loved the idea of spending more time with Chloë. Screw unpacking. The house wasn’t going anywhere; she had thirty years of mortgage payments still to make.
“Count me in,” she said.
“Do you want to meet at my place?” Chloë suggested. “Then you can see my tiny house.”
This was just getting better!
“Yes!” Morgan exclaimed. The two women then spent a few moments putting their phone numbers in each other’s devices.
When they were done, Chloë leaned forward, elbows on the table. Morgan did not fail to notice that by doing so, the top of Chloë’s dress fell open a bit, offering a nice view of her cleavage. She didn’t understand why she suddenly had to concentrate hard on keeping her eyes focused on Chloë’s face, but her eyes were beginning to hurt from the effort.
“So,” Chloë began, “I honestly had no idea you were gay.”
Morgan’s mouth fell open.
“Wait…what?”
“Really, I had no idea,” Chloë went on. “I don’t think anyone at Barrington did, at least not among my friends.”
Morgan’s mouth fell open even wider. Eventually, she realized that she must look like a startled
fish and she shut it.
“I’m…I’m not gay, Chloë,” she finally croaked.
Chloë’s eyebrows shot up and she sat back in her seat.
“Oh, shit! Sorry!”
