Coral ushered us out of the game room and into her family's sunroom. Ruby and I stood self-contained, nothing to say to each other, as Coral organised drinks and cake. The rain pelted the broad window panes. Ruby slumped into a plush recliner. I sat forward on an older-style leather sofa.
The brunette kicked her shoes off. One sailed left, the other to the right. She tapped her feet, waiting for Coral. Our golden hostess returned beaming, carrying treats. She placed a tray on the central coffee table. My bestie saw how relaxed the brunette was and passed her a drink and a plate of cake.
At the same time, to me, "Help yourself."
I took a piece. Coral flopped in the matching recliner next to Ruby. She took off her shoes and placed them by her chair. The girls started talking about an upcoming netball game. I ate cake and sort of listened. Coral spoke about a difficult opponent.
Ruby said something quietly before saucily adding, "Difficult like Josh."
I stopped eating cake as my ears pricked.
Coral wagged her finger at her girlfriend.
"Rubes!" she fired firmly, "he's fine when calm."
"Fine," delivered with brunette sarcasm.
Followed by, "His chest makes up for any faults."
Ruby awaited her girlfriend's reply, eating the moist cake as it crumbled everywhere. The strawberry atop her piece fell off. Her sharp reflexes caught the berry before it hit the carpet. She bit it in half.
"Trust you to notice his chest, you saucy minx. I like it too," lilted Coral.
She pushed one finger into the side of her cake slice.
"Great to press my hands into."
Coral licked the cream off her fingers. She looked at me. Unexpectedly, she pushed a question she would have typically left private.
"What about you, Luke? Doesn't my boy have a great chest?"
I 'ummed' and 'ahhed'.
What did she want, my commentary on Josh's physique?
Coral noticed my awkwardness. She let the question go unanswered.
Tightening my posture, I was glad it had lapsed. I watched my bestie take the strawberry from the top of her cake. She relished it, examining it with a delicate hold between her fingers before she popped it into her mouth.
The brunette launched again, "Oh, don't put him on the spot."
Either in a bored or sassy mood!
I thought her comment was initially sensitive to my embarrassment, 'till she continued, "He might go bi."
Geez, I thought, Go home! Leave Coral and me alone!
"Yeah, we like and appreciate each other's bodies, and we're not bi?"
Thanks, Coral.
"How do you know?" Ruby advanced pronto, and her eyelashes fluttered faster than usual.
Her cake was finished.
"Well, that is interesting," Coral mused openly as her eyes trailed off to the wet sky, disconnected from her girlfriend and me.
Then with focused eyes, she quizzed Ruby, "How do you know? Do you think you are?"
"I don't think," Ruby started, offering Coral another slice of cake, "I know."
"Yes! How do you know?"
My bestie's feet were tapping fast.
The minx hooked my bestie as she ate more cake.
I rechewed. I tried to keep my mouth full to avoid opening it.
"It hits you," Ruby said matter-of-factly.
The brunette's eyes repeatedly glanced, alert to Coral's reaction. My bestie processed like me, Ruby's admission, her mouth working overtime with cake.
Ruby added, "You'll know. It's the tingle you get as you look. You get a glimpse or a peek, which lingers through the tips of your fingers and swirls through your head. You'll know when it happens."
"Well…" Coral responded between quick bites of the strawberry cream cake.
"Oh, pet, you like an analogy, think…." Ruby paused, rare for the brunette, "Think internal goosebumps."
Ruby bounced up and drummed the window pane, and her tempo matched the rain.
She spun to see us agog.
The brunette smirked, "Caught you both, sucked you right in! You didn't think that — You did?"
Her thin-lipped mouth paused between open and shut. Coral and I kept eating cake.
"You did! I can't take it back. We will have to move forward."
And Ruby took the cake plate from her girlfriend's hands and dragged Coral up.
"Enough cake for your figure, Missy; let's crank out some music, dance it off."
The brunette started tugging Coral, by one arm, out of the room. Coral reached back with her spare hand. She pulled enough to break Ruby's hold. The brunette spread her hands to her hips and waited. The golden girl nipped the strawberry off the top of her unfinished cake.
She managed, her cheeks full, "I love strawberries."
She reoffered her hand to Ruby. With their hands swinging between them, the girls left the sunroom.
I finished my second piece of cake alone.
When I entered the lounge room, the quadraphonic system boomed full blast. My bestie liked The Beatles. Coral and Ruby jived apart. I got into their group swing. We bopped in a circle to The Stones.
The Kinks marginalised me.
The two girlfriends joined at their hips as Lola played.
I stewed, sidelined.
Once, Lola had been my bestie's and my 'go-to' dance song before Ruby came to our high school.
I slouched on the newish leather sofa. The girls enjoyed their closeness. Their hips fused in a rub, and their booties rolled together. Four arms swayed high above two heads—their voices in unison.
Last year, only last year, it would have been Coral and me. No Ruby!
The girls continued to spin and whirl.
I hustled to the kitchen, indicating I needed a glass of water. Coral barely tilted her head in my direction.
I glanced back through the kitchen archway to the lounge room, a drink in my hand. Coral had yet to notice my extended absence. I finished the tall glass of water. The girls remained paired as The Kinks LP played.
Jealousy hit as Ruby sidled closer to my bestie.
I saw a grocery list notepad next to the fridge and a black pen. I yanked and tore off half a page. I wrote a scribbled short note, telling Coral I needed to go; I remembered a family chore undone— the poorest excuse.
The note I left on the kitchen table, under the empty glass. A ring of wetness on the bottom spread and smeared my message.
I clicked shut Coral's backdoor behind me.
Outside in the pelting rain, the downpour drenched, soaking me to the bone as I drifted home. In the wet, I pictured the girls dancing.
My fancies wandered to them, tangled on the sheepskin rug. My mind's eye held Coral's skin-toned camisole and Ruby's shapely thighs. The satin and tight jeans merged as pleasant images despite the rain.
As a teenager, I did not know what to do with these hot thoughts.
My religious upbringing tried to douse my daydreams.
In the end, the relentless rain provided 'the cold shower.'