Bad Faith

"What the-" Andy yelled, cut off by the balloon exploding right in her face. "-fuck?" She completed her sentence once the contents had been emptied onto her. A laugh came from behind her. I had just noticed that there was a guy standing behind Andy.

"Sophie!" At the sound of her exasperation, his laugh became half-genuine and half-nervous. "Scott, wait outside."

"Yes, ma'am," the guy said. He looked over her shoulder and mouthed to me "Nice one," then winked before walking off.

Andy kicked the trebuchet aside and stormed into the room. "Now I gotta change. Thanks for making me look like a dumbass, Soph."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize...It was just a joke." She was the one who didn't realize, though. She couldn't know how sorry I actually was.

"Shit," she muttered, walking over to her closet and pulling out dry clothes. I didn't know what to say and she seemed to be in no mood to talk, so I sat on my bed pretending to study. I glanced down at my book, but all the words might as well have read "Andy hates you, you stupid jackass."

I looked up to see her peeling off her soaked shirt. Then her pants. "Fuck, everything's wet." She undid the clasp of her bra. I couldn't tear my eyes away - I wanted to see her naked. Her bra and panties came off. I hadn't seen anyone naked before. Okay, so there were the times I accidentally walked in on my brother and sister, and the time in high school that guy pulled his pants down in the middle of class. It was the first time I had seen someone I wanted to see naked. Andy's body was beautifully proportioned. I felt a pang of disappointment as she slipped on her dry clothes.

I diverted my eyes back to the book so as not to get caught. Crap, I had just embarrassed my roommate in front of her date, then shamelessly checked her out. I was just curious, that's it. I did it for the same reason I read articles about how to give good oral and how to make common household objects into sex toys.

-

I am not a lesbian, I told myself. And I'll prove it. I sat down at my computer. I punched in "hot naked men" and paged through until I found some acceptable specimens. Washboard abs, arms flexing, angular jaws, big penises. I rubbed myself but the only desire I felt was to turn off the computer and do it under the loving warmth of my bedspread. Maybe if they were aroused, I would be too. "Hot naked men with erections." Okay, now I had the same chippendales with boners. And some gay porn mixed in as well. I had to try more. Guys kissing guys, girls kissing guys, girls and guys screwing ten other girls and guys, guys screwing sheep.

I stopped at that last one. Fuck it. I would just have to go home and tell my parents that I had failed at being straight. Mom would wail on about not getting her grandkids and Dad would complain about me just acting out for attention. I guess I had just assumed that I would grow up and get married like all the other girls.

Nope, none of that for me, thank you. I clicked over to Playboy. That's it - tits and ass, long hair and pouty lips. After about ten minutes, my career as a lesbian was over. Girls weren't doing it for me either. Good lord, what's wrong with me?

I lay down in my bed, going back to my old routine. Then those images came flooding back again. Andy whipping off my bed sheet. Andy undressing me. Andy taking off her wet clothes.

Once I had finished, I still thought about her. Andy cuddling up next to me. It wasn't just a sexual thing. I wanted us to leave secrets behind and become close like lovers. I wanted us to be able to throw our costumes away together.

-

Andy had been going out with Scott for the last week while I got the cold shoulder all around. She was gone most of the time and was more closed-mouthed around me than I had ever seen her. When she had kicked the trebuchet, she broke one of the supports which needed to be rebuilt. The engineers subsequently went lukewarm on me as well.

So my main activity for the week was sitting around feeling sorry for myself. During one compelling session, Scott showed up at the door. "Is Andy around?"

"Yeah, she's in the shower. You can come in and wait if you want."

"Thanks." He sat down in her chair. "You know, dating a girl like Andy is tough."

"Why's that?"

"Whenever I bring it up, people think I'm gay. 'Cause of the name, you know."

I forced a laugh. I hoped that wasn't the biggest relationship problem he had encountered in his life. Strangely enough, though, he happened to be the biggest relationship problem I had encountered. I wanted to switch placed with him desperately. Then I could go out with Andy and act my sex just by swilling cheap beer, chewing beef jerky, and belching. And he would have to deal with sorting out something as basic as sexual attraction.

Well, at least I had learned one thing this week. In my attempts to repress attraction to Andy, I realized that I had only made the itch worse. I liked a girl, and that was that. I didn't know what to think about that or do with it, but at least I had admitted it.

After sitting idly for a few minutes, Scott got up and sat next to me on my bed. "Say, that's a nice dress. I like this little sash." He fondled the end of the satin attachment on my waist.

"Oh, thanks." I wanted to add, "But did I say you could touch it?" but kept silent.

"You're very pretty, you know, all those nice clothes." He leaned in toward me.

"Yeah..."

Then he pulled me toward him and planted his lips right on mine. I tried to push away. It didn't matter - he did it himself when he heard Andy's voice shout, "What the fuck is going on here?!"

"I can explain-"

"You, out," she pointed at him. Scott trudged over and walked out the door. Then she pointed to me, "You, stay." I tried to listen in on the shouting match but it disappeared into the stairway and down a few floors. Andy's command to stay in the room replayed in my head. Surely she didn't think I was at fault.

She came back into the room alone, hair still wet and dressed in her shower robe. "You know, sometimes you think you know someone, but you really never knew them in the first place."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I mean, you little backstabbing bitch. First the water balloon and now this. I just didn't think you'd be so quick about it."

"What? He did that! He kissed me! He-"

"I don't want to hear it, Sophie. Now I know why you dress the way you do. It's to make up for how ugly you are inside. I think you oughta match!" She pulled my scarf off, smudged my makeup with it, and threw it to the floor. Both of us stayed silent as she gathered clothes from the closet and left.

-

I cried until I fell asleep that night. Sure, people had done shitty things to me, but I hadn't been so hurt by someone so close to me. Scott must have lied to her. That bastard must have told her I jumped on him. My cheeks were still swollen and my nose still stuffy when I woke up. I threw a pillow at the wall. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

-

Friday night and it had been more than twenty-four hours since I had last seen Andy. Maybe I could just go hang out with the engineers. Or not. One little support beam and they get all flustered. Screw 'em.

I flipped through the TV channels. Not another night with Four Weddings and a Funeral, please. I landed on Goldfinger. Maybe watching Sean Connery blow things up would be a chance for some catharsis.

Tears began to trickle anyway. And then, "I'm sorry!" The door had burst open and Andy tackled me onto my bed. "Can you forgive me, Soph?"

I stayed silent, still taken aback by her sudden entrance and embrace. "Uh..."

She leaned the two of us back up so she could rest her head on my shoulder. "Scott was a liar. He was cheating on his girlfriend with me. I should have believed you."

"It's okay, Andy." I hugged her back. It felt inadequate. I felt like I should have been shouting "Thank God you're back!"

"Oh, Soph, you don't know how much that means to me." She pulled back. "Your mascara's running. Oh, shit, I can't believe I did this to you."

She pulled a tissue from the box on my desk and dabbed at my cheeks. "I didn't mean any of it, I just-"

"It's okay, Andy. Don't get hysterical about it. Come on, let's just watch the movie and forget it."

She squeezed me one more time before getting up. She returned from her closet with a bottle of brandy. "This is why I keep a rainy day fund. Here, want some?"

"Yeah." The perks of living with a twenty-one-year-old. We each downed a big first gulp.

"I can't believe that piece of shit. I can't believe I trusted him instead of you." She took a sip and then laughed. "Hell, you don't even like boys."

Then it kicked in like a reflex: "I'm not a lesbian!"

"Whoa, calm down, Soph. I just thought, you know..."

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong."

"I guess you're right. Look at that dress, too girlie for a dyke." She laughed again.

"I'm not girlie, either!"

"Geez, did I hit a nerve or something? You've been acting kinda funny lately. Are you still mad at me?"

"Look, there's just some things, a lot of things, people don't understand about me. So just leave me alone."

"Yeah, 'cause you never say anything about it. Lookitchu, in that little frilly dress, like an orn'ry child throwing a temper tantrum." The way her country accent was slipping through, I could tell she was getting drunk and agitated.

"Okay, it's because there's someone I like."

She broke into a smile. "Oh, so you do like people after all. Come on, tell me."

"You don't know who it is," I said.

"Maybe not. Come on, just the name's all I'm askin'."

I choked. How could I tell her? Best response: She bursts out laughing and then says, "Good one." Worst response: I'd rather not think about it.

"Eric Jenkins," I blurted. The name was complete fiction.

"Oh, yeah." She looked disappointed. "Don't know him. But what's the problem then?"

"Well, you know me."

"What?"

I took a sip of brandy. Here it comes. "Come on. You know, I'm a virgin, never even kissed."

"Yeah, I figured there wasn't a whole lot going on down there. But not even one little kiss. I'm sure the boys thought you were cute in high school."

"Not until I started wearing this." I pulled the fabric of my dress. "That's how I got my one and only kiss."

"Oh, so it's one now. What are you playing at?"

"Long story."

"I'd like to hear."

I sighed. I had never told anyone about it, but I always wished I could. Reluctance pulled at me - I was loathe to relive the experience out loud. The brandy helped it pour out, though. Andy looked rather perturbed. I felt bad for dumping this on her after what happened today, but I was so much lighter.

She grabbed my hand. "Wow, that's rough. But, just think about it. It's not even that big a deal. Just some high school dumbasses out to make people's lives miserable. Screw it and do what you want. You're only nineteen. Nobody expects you to be an expert on this stuff. Go out and kiss that boy."

I laughed. "Wouldn't know how."

"All you gotta do is put your lips together and-" Her lips pressed against my cheek. Her warm breath swept over my face. I shivered. Just that little touch from her had gotten me excited.

I needed more. "Like this?" I asked, playing innocent and pecking her cheek.

"Yeah, that's all you gotta do, except on the lips, and then use your tongue after a while."

"Okay." I squeezed her hand harder and put my other on her thigh. I kissed her cheek again. Control was slipping away. I had never felt such heat. And the brandy was making it worse. I laid another two kisses on her cheek.

"Uh, Soph? You can stop practicing now."

"I just wanted to know," I paused, unsure of what I was about to say, "what a real kiss was like. How to do it."

"Are- are you serious?" Andy asked. I nodded. I knew I must have had a little lost puppy expression on my face, my eyes watering over. "Okay, uh, well, it's simple, you just press your lips together, and-"

Our lips brushed against each other. I gave a little suck on her lower lip. She responded and opened her mouth. We kissed. I was overwhelmed. Another wave of arousal shot through me. Her tongue worked its way into my mouth. I met it and the two danced back and forth.

I never could have guessed, from my quick tongue-to-tongue in high school, that such a thing could consume me whole. And the kisses kept getting deeper until Andy pulled away for a moment, looking frazzled. "That's how you kiss, I guess."

I pushed her down so we lay on my bed and kissed her again. I rolled on top of her. My dress hiked up and her bent knee brushed against my panties. As we continued making out, I let my crotch rest on her thigh. My hips seemed to start moving of their own accord. Andy sucked my tongue into her mouth. The way I was resting on top of her, I felt like I would fall out of myself and into her.

I knew going farther would be a huge risk and I would have been delighted to kiss her like this all night. But my arousal was in command of my body. I was blatantly grinding on her thigh at this point. I had to feel her body. Was she as aroused as I was?

My fingers ran toward her breasts. I brushed my hand over her nipples. They were definitely erect. The thought that she was getting hot from this made me shiver. Then it hit. My knees clamped around her leg. I couldn't stop it. My body quaked and I moaned into her mouth. I came right on her leg.

I collapsed on top of her, panting as if I had run a marathon. She rolled us onto our sides. "Soph..." she whispered pulling my arms away from her and standing up. "I'm tired."

She got into bed without even changing out of her clothes.

-

I didn't see Andy in her bed when I woke up. I started feeling sick to my stomach. Maybe she had run away from me. Maybe she was completely freaked out about what I did. In a way, I disgusted myself. Andy had been upset about the Scott incident and I had taken advantage of her vulnerability. I felt like one of the sleazeballs who hunts around for girls on the rebound to score with.

My cell phone rang. I picked up.

"Hey, it's Andy."

"Hi."

"I'm going to the grocery store. Want me to pick anything up for you?"

I fell back on my bed smiling, elated that the first words out of her mouth weren't "I never want to see you again!"

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

-

I spent the daylight hours in the library. Andy's words kept coming back to me. "Ever feel like you're not really you?" Such a simple question. I wondered if Andy realized its implications. Sartre had spent a good part of his life explaining the answer to it.

It had been a few years since I had read Sartre's Being and Nothingness, but this was the perfect time to pick it up again. Bad faith, as he called it. That was my problem. His explanation of the waiter playing as a waiter made me smile as it had when I first read it. For Sartre the waiter, his behavior is a "representation," as he says, "for others and myself...I can not be he, I can only play at being him..."

For so long, I had forgotten that Sophie in her blush and skirts and heels wasn't more than a representation. Nor was the Sophie that didn't care to make love. She was a lie.

-

"Hey, I think you left your homework on my desk." Andy held up the copy of Being and Nothingness. I had left it open to the chapter on bad faith. I had gotten so excited waiting for her to pick it up and read, thinking she would devour it and say, "Sophie, I didn't realize you felt just like me!" Of course, more realistically, she didn't even make the connection that I had left the book there for her.

"Andy, remember when you said you felt like an actor playing yourself? That's for you. I think you might like it. That chapter."

"Oh, uh, okay." She gave me a quizzical look.

-

The engineers seemed to be pacified by their new project: the potato cannon. Things had gone back to normal. As much as they could, at least. It was Saturday night and I was soldering while Andy was, presumably, out in that great beyond she called "the nightlife."

But all day I only thought of Andy. Visions of last night, especially, forced themselves into my head. I kept reliving that moment that I came on her leg. I had never felt anything so incredible. And thinking about it constantly made me horny. A good part my reason for my trip to the library and the potato cannon construction site was to avoid spending the day beneath the sheets playing with myself.

I guess this was lust. Before today, my pussy was the release valve, the remedy for the day's problems. Now it was the problem. It demanded attention. Not just from me, but from Andy. I decided to head back to my room early for the night, too lost in fantasizing about Andy to solder properly. I figured I'd shut the damn thing up. Take a nice long masturbation session and fall asleep.

My train of thought had become so singular - crawl into bed - that when I opened the door to my room, it took me a few seconds to realize what was happening in Andy's bed. Some guy was straddling her, his dick right between her tits. Her head rolled to the side to look toward me standing in the doorway.

"Omigod!" she yelled.

"Shit, I'm cumming, babe!" said the guy in a strained voice.

I was frozen by the sight. For some reason, I watched as he began to shoot onto Andy's chest.

"What the fuck?!" Andy yelled again as the guy continued to hump her chest and leave his cream on it, as if I weren't watching them.

Finally, I came unglued. "Oh, shit! Sorry!" I backed out of the room and closed the door.

"What the fuck?!" she repeated, her voice almost as loud from behind the door. "My roommate walks in and you keep fucking me? And cum on me, right in front of her? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Sorry, I just - I mean, your tits are so nice, I couldn't stop. I couldn't help myself. Your tits are the best I've fucked. And your roommate walking in, to be honest, kinda turned me on. Come on, you should take that as a compliment."

"Get the fuck outta here! Put your pants on and get the fuck out!"

I ran to the lounge to avoid the guy Andy had just evicted. I sat on the sofa with my knees to my chin. It wasn't my fault, but I couldn't but feel that this would make things more tense with Andy. And it was an even more dramatic reminder of where her loyalties lay. I became jealous again, just as I had when I listened to her having sex with Scott. If only I could be a boy. Opposite sex, but the same exact person. It didn't make sense to me. Why should intimacy be restricted to the opposite sex? Why couldn't I get as close to Andy as a boy could?

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. "Hey, Soph. Come on back to the room."

I looked up at Andy. She was dressed in that camo t-shirt and chewed up denim skirt again. "Guess you didn't need me to dress you up this time." I had intended to say that with an air of confidence, but it came out sounding like a disappointed lament. As if I were sad that she didn't ask for another make-over. I was, though.

"Come on, let's go back." She pulled me up by the arm. She smelled of alcohol, as it usually was on the weekend. We got back to the room and she closed the door.

"Sorry, I didn't realize-"

"No, it's okay. It's my fault. I forgot to put a scrunchy on the door handle or something. Oh, Christ, that was so embarrassing."

She looked so unsettled. I patted her shoulder. "It's not like I can't guess what's happening in here, Andy. Just forget about it." She was still sniffling. "Something else is bothering you, isn't it?"

"Never mind. I'm just embarrassed is all."

"Sit down." I pushed on her shoulder until she sat on my bed. Tears began to form in her eyes. "I know something's wrong."

She glanced up at me. "Soph, I need to know. We kissed last night, didn't we?"