Free Screaming Divas by Suzanne Kamata Page B

world!
    Cassie finished her number and fell onto the bed. Her perfect breasts rose and fell with each deep breath. “I feel alive right now,” she said, smiling at the ceiling. “
Really
alive.”
    â€œYeah, I think this might work. You and me and ….”
    Cassie sat up as if sparked by an idea. “I know this great bass player. She’s a true musician—a child prodigy—and she’s really cool. I’ll bet she’d be interested. I could ask her.”
    Trudy nodded. Everything was coming together now. She couldn’t believe she had ever been worried. “We’ll have our first practice here on Friday night. Get her to come then.”
    It was already midnight. Madeline banged on the door. “Stop the racket. Y’all sound like a bunch of screaming divas,” she said in a weary voice. “I’m going to bed now.”
    Trudy yanked open the door. “Maddy! I’ve got a band now. Tell the world.”
    Madeline slouched there in an oversized T-shirt, her face scrubbed clean. She didn’t move when Trudy grabbed her and kissed her on the cheek. “You can still join. We need a drummer.”
    Madeline patted her on the head and disappeared into her room.
    â€œAn enemy of rock and roll,” Trudy whispered to Cassie. “But we’ll convert her.”
    That night, the two of them shared a bed. It was kind of nice watching Cassie’s face relax into innocence and feeling the warmth of her body. This could be an initiation rite—sleeping together in the same bed. Anyone who hogged the sheets would be kicked out of the band.

10
    Esther hadn’t been planning on calling Rebecca. In fact, she shredded and burned the scribbled phone number as she’d promised herself in the car. But one Saturday afternoon, while shopping at the Columbia Mall for her mother’s birthday gift, she caught a glimpse of her. At first, she wasn’t sure. A tall woman with cropped white-blonde hair stood at the Lancôme makeup counter, bent over an array of creams. Esther could only see the back of her—the long, slender but shapely legs, the slightly rounded bottom bound in a tight, black skirt. And then the woman picked up a tube of lipstick and tilted the mirror on the counter. Esther saw her face.
    She could have run in the other direction without being seen, but when she knew it was Rebecca, something leapt inside of her. Buoyed, but also suddenly shy, Esther moved slowly across the store.
    â€œHey,” she said, priming herself for rejection.
    Rebecca’s eyes widened in the mirror. She smiled. “Esther!”
    And then they’d wound up going out for coffee, and although Esther had tried to make small talk she’d wound up crying and telling Rebecca about her estrangement from Harumi and all the unfamiliar feelings that had been flooding her heart and mind. But she didn’t tell her how she felt about Cassie. She wanted to keep that to herself.
    In the daylight, in that black skirt and blazer, with her makeup just so, Rebecca looked professional. She listened attentively, looking away only to stir sugar in her coffee, and made little cooing noises whenever Esther paused. It was easy to imagine that she was talking to a counselor or an older and wiser sister.
    â€œMy parents were really conservative,” Rebecca said. “If they’d known I was having feelings for my year nine teacher, they probably would have sent me off to some re-education camp.” She shook her head and the thick gold hoops looped through her ears flashed with light. “Your friend will come around,” she said. “And if she doesn’t? Well, that’ll be her loss.”
    They talked and talked, and Esther forgot all about buying a present for her mother. She drank three cups of coffee while Rebecca told her story. Her parents had kicked her out of the house when she’d declared her love for women, and after a few