Numbers

She just couldn't help it; each time Cat laughed, and that already beautiful face broke into an even more radiant grin, Angie fell just a centimeter deeper in love. She was thankful to be sitting down, because she was going weak in the knees... and a teensy bit tingly between the thighs. She was still listening to the film, but her vision was captivated by Cat's charismatic kisser. It was more than mere beauty. Ever since Angie'd sat in her class that first day... she didn't know. Something about the woman's countenance—hell, her presence alone—had a way of enchanting and entrancing Angie's socks off. And eventually... the rest of her wardrobe.

Maybe it was her dimples. Angie found herself wishing Cat's smile wouldn't disappear, so she'd never have to say goodbye to those irresistible dimples. Their irresistibility was, in fact, literal, Angie found, as she leaned in... and nuzzled the dimple facing her.

"Hm?" asked an oblivious Cat, turning her way. "Angie? What's up?"

Abruptly embarrassed, Angela didn't know what to say.

"D—oh, uh...n-nothing. Nothing," Angie whispered back. "Sorry."

She found herself also glad they were sitting in a darkened theater so neither Cat nor anyone else saw her cheeks redden. Cat's smile and thus dimples had retreated, which made Angie a bit sad. But her date clearly had no problem with her shoulder rested upon and arm hugged. Besides, the film was getting good. And they still had one more feature after this to enjoy. Angie decided to cool her jets and settle in for the end.

"Wow. Y'know, hon, that one was better than I thought it'd be," Cat opined as they sauntered out hand in hand.

"So was Robin Hood," said her companion. One more restroom visit, and it was to theater four with them. This last time, they wandered in and found their seats early on.

"Y'know what I love about being in the movie theater?" said Angie.

"Do tell."

"It makes me feel so...emotionally cozy," Angie told her, flashing Cat a dreamy smile. "I mean, I've... see, I've-I've always loved that no one's able to, like, read my mind. Y'know? 'S a simple thing, but I don't take it for granted. Not that I necessarily have judgy or bitchy thoughts about people. I'm a sweetie. But I hypothetically could, y'know, as long as my face didn't give it away. I can think whatever thought my mind wants to process, no one has to know, and it doesn't have to mean squat. And the darkness in the movie theater's like the same thing. It's like when the lights go down...we're all kinda the same. Y'know? We're all just dark figures sitting there tuned to the screen. Not that we lose our individuality, but, it...i-it kinda feels like we do lose our vulnerability, in a way. Other people can see you're there, but once it's dark they can't see anything about you. I kinda think of it as like...like Linus' security blanket. Or how some people wear sunglasses. I...I guess I'm just extra comfortable with that kinda privacy."

Cat arched her eyebrows, accentuating the pensive look Angie'd just placed on her face.

"...Goodness," she finally commented. "Well spoken, Angie. Not entirely unlike the way they say all Cats are gray in the dark. Y'know, if I may say so, I feel you're quite profound beyond your years."

"You may." ...Aaaaand I'd ask if I may tell you I might be in love with you... but I think first I'd better figure out how.

Their fourth and final theater darkened, and City Slickers began. Following that tingle of emotional coziness, Angie reclaimed Cat's arm and returned her head to her shoulder. The snacks were gone, but this was all too fine with the lasses. Too much more would've made their tummies unhappy, and they were still planning to have supper after. This was the other flick pick of Cat's. It spoke to her with a similar age-appropriate vibe to how Babysitter spoke to Angie. Cat went on enjoying herself, as did her company. Angela's enjoyment, however, came with a modicum of overwhelmedness. She didn't want to take things too far, and yet, she also didn't know how long she could wait before her Cat-fancy feelings surfaced. Especially as Cat continued laughing, and back came those perfect dimples... Oh, how Cat was scorching and torching her emotions, making them run so wild, without even knowing or meaning to. Twenty-five minutes into their final cinematic adventure, no longer able to help it... Angela let herself succumb to a small indiscretion. She released Cat's arm, palmed her cheeks... turned Cat's face her way...

...And kissed her... nose.

Cat widened her eyes and arched her brows, smirking with amusement. She didn't know quite how to respond to this. After another moment, Angie blinked, repeatedly, as if returning to her senses.

"Oh gosh," she murmured. "That was so silly. That was dumb of me...wasn't it."

"Oh, but not at all," assured Cat. "I found it unusual, but a bit cute."

"R—...really?" asked Angie. "...Aaaaany chance I could...kinda, maybe... have one back?"

Cat smiled warmly.

"Close your eyes."

Angela did as told, and a moment later felt her own nose tip tenderly pecked. She ballooned with limerence.

"Your lips smell like popcorn."

"So do yours. ...And just a little chocolate."

Now that they'd reciprocated, Angie leaned in to Eskimo kiss Cat, reclined, and decided this was all she needed for now. She settled in to watch. And even though Angie'd not chosen—or frankly before this point even heard of—City Slickers, she found herself really partial to it. It was funny, touching and engaging. And unexpectedly tear-jerking. When Billy Crystal helped the cow birth the baby calf, Angie and a few others cried. By the time the film came to a close, she was so filled with affection she turned back to Cat and squEEEEEEEEEEzed her.

It had indeed taken the entire day, but Angela Cadwick and Catherine Reeds concluded their cinema festival. Being the summer solstice, daylight would hang around as long as possible. And when the awesome twosome stepped back out through the Juniplex doors, after all those air-conditioned theaters, the warm outdoor air somewhat disoriented them.

*****

Segment Five: What We Eight, Or, Dine By Nine

Saturday, June 22nd, 1991, 8:51 p.m.

"A'right, ladies, we'll get those drinks in for you, and I'll be right back with 'em for your orders."

... "Gosh, those were good. You have totally excellent taste in movies, teech. So, I guess this...kinda brings us to the 'gettin'-to-know-ya' fraction of our evening."

"I suppose it does. I also suppose this may not be the kinda thing you had in mind, but just out of curiosity, what made you choose this restaurant? It's very lovely, of course. Like I said, just made me a little curious."

"Uh-oh...are you not aware what they say about curiosity and the Cat?"

"Oh dear, you're right. Perhaps I should simply roll with it."

"Perhaps. But since you asked, I thought it was kinda different and unique, like I like to be... and also romantic at the same time."

"...Romantic?"

"Well, eh...yeah, yeah. I mean, I know we never exactly defined the parameters of the date. Or of those, kinda...public displays of affection we had in the movie theaters. But, well...and-and I'm sorry if I kinda misled you about it. But the truth is...Cat... the first time I sat in your class...I had a little crush on you. And, well, another fact is, curriculums aren't all that, eh, sorta...develops, over a semester. So if 'c''s my crush, plus 'p' and 't' for all that time spent in your class, and in your...presence, and...'x' times 'c'... well, I don't know exactly what 'x' is just yet. But I can tell you that...it's a big number."

"...Oh my goodness, Angie, you're blushing!"

"...Ye—so that alone could've tipped you off. But...yes. I am."

"...Oh my god, Angie, I... well, I...I had no idea! I mean, I'm...for heaven's sake, sweetheart, I'm old enough to be your... teacher."

"I-I mean, I suppose so, if you wanna get technical, yeah. And I wouldn't blame the waitress or anybody else in here if they thought you were my... 'teacher.' But for anything and everything it's worth, you look young enough to be my...slightly big sister."

"Ha! You do know how to charm, Angie, I must give you that."

"Well, I'm, y'know, not exactly some silver-tongue-y...smooth, uh...talker... as I probably just proved one second ago. But, I'm... I-I've gotta be honest, Cat. When I found out I was, um... a lesbian... that was a surprise in and of itself. My family doesn't even know. I haven't figured out how to tell them yet. Then I found out I mostly just like...um... let's say women who were born a... good few years before I was. ...Y'know, girls my own age've just never done it for me. Although, it's true what they say about ages. They really are just numbers. And maybe I can find the words to tell my family if I can tell you what a huge crush I have on you. Although although...I told myself not to get my hopes up, and I won't. Trust me, I found out the hard way why they call 'em crushes."

"...I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks...so was I. B—oh."

"'Kay ladies, here we are: ginger ale, and a white wine. Do we need a couple minutes to decide on the meals?"

"Actually, I've had a minute to peek at the menu, I think I know what I want. How about you, Angie?"

"Hee hee!...Ahem! Sorry, um...no, actually, I'm good too, yeah. I came in already knowing what I wanted. ...Uh, to eat."

"Okay, great. Whoever wants to kick it off, go right ahead."

"...Coolness. Okay, could I please have the absolutely mouth-watering shrimp and avocado club sandwich with chips, honey mustard dipping sauce and a thing of coleslaw, please. I know I said please twice; that's how polite I am and how much I want it. Thanks."

"Exquisite choice and exquisitely put. And for you then, Miss?"

"A dish of chicken cordon bleu on mixed veggies, please please. I'm polite as well."

"Heh! Excellent. I'll take those menus for you and we'll get going on these right away. Bon appétit and all that."

... "Hm. Nice girl. Cute too. I wonder what she's all about. Y'know, what's on her mind day to day, what she likes, her interests, so on and so forth...'course, I wonder that about a lotta people. ...Do I talk too much?"

"Oh, certainly not, Angie. It's our own little idiosyncrasies that make us who we are as individuals. ...That sentence had far too many syllables in it—twenty-three, to be exact. But you get what I mean. Sometimes I wonder what other folks're thinking about too. But like you, I'm also thankful that my mind can't be read, at least not without my permission. But then, if psychics are real—which as a woman of science, I doubt—but if they were and one walked past me and read my mind, I suppose I couldn't stop them."

"Well, talking too much's at least better than eating too much, which I'm guilty of too. Speaking of which... if I can confess something, I think I like food too much. I like when you get it in big portions in restaurants, and I like those jumbo sizes in the store. But...I always feel really guilty when I get those bags of stuff that say 'party size,' or 'family size.' Y'know? I...I guess I feel like the dudes that package that stuff mean or want you to share it. And it's not that I refuse to share, or buy that stuff to be greedy. It's just how it happens. Believe me, no one needs to tell me I tend to overeat—or, 'over-snack.' Look at me, I'm not exactly model-skinny."

"Oh, balderdash, my dear Angie; twaddle. I maintain that your pelt is fairly svelte."

"Ho-ho! Now whose nose is growing?"

"On the contrary. Truth and falsehood fundamentally turn on subject matter which is concretely factual. And while bearing false witness can be achieved by stating the opposite of one's opinion, fibbing and subjectivity do not compute. Insensitivity aside, a hypothetical morbidly obese person would be seen and agreed by most as heavyset or overweight. Thou, Angie Cadwick, art hardly obese—nowhere near, in fact. Your feelings about your figure are your own entitlement. As my viewpoint of such is mine. And so you'll notice my nose remain the same size and my pants not being set ablaze."

"Duly noticed. Well, guess that puts the ball back in my court. So, let's see... oh, I know, I'll tell you some things about me. I... turned 20 on August 11th. I took a bio class along with yours this semester...it went pretty well, like yours did. Thanks for the B-plus, by the way. It may not be an A, but we like numbers better than letters. I think I wanna look for a career in science. I dunno exactly what yet, but that's just one of the lots and lotsa things I dunno. And, I...can't say I love not knowing things, but I do love learning 'em. I also like... well, math, you know that... pop and rap music—my favorite singers're Cyndi Lauper and Tiffany, and my favorite rapper's MC Hammer—action movies, baseball, football, word and logic puzzles, trivia...books about almost anything, to be honest...actually, kinda like food, there aren't too many topics that don't interest me a little. But I guess there are a few. My parents like NASCAR and my uncle loves to hunt. I can't really say I get either of those. NASCAR bores me, and I guess I find hunting...well... inhumane. Then again, I've never been a huge car or gun nut."

"Ah. Yes, well...driving 500 miles in a circle rather limits one's scenery, and hunting would be more sporting if the deer had a gun."

"Ha! Wouldn't it?? Not that I wanna think about anything happening to my uncle. Anyway, uh... why don'tcha tell me more about you? Let the, eh... hee hee... let the Cat outta the bag, if ya will."

"You're delightful. Well, I've been teaching for twenty-five years. I was married for six, but it didn't work out. Just been enjoying the single life since. Or...okay, divorced life, technically. Aside from the legal status, there's really no distinction. The freedom's nice. I love being able to go out when I want and spend my own money. My birthday's February 4th, but the year stays undisclosed. I of course love math and science, and I read a lot too. Both fiction and non. I watch a lot of TV in between the reading, most genres. I like some contemporary music, but my favorite's '60s and '70s stuff. I'm a sucker for the Beatles and the Stones. I've never been a huge sports person, but I'll watch if someone's got it on. And sometimes I watch golf to help put myself to sleep."

"Hee hee... I'm having such a great time, Cat. This is one of the best days of my life."

"Well, I dare say, Angie, let 'a' represent your age, and 'c' mine, and 'c' equals two-'a' plus 'y.' Even if you correctly found 'y,' you wouldn't know 'cause I'm not telling you. That being said, this is one of the nicest days of my life as well."

God, I love you so damn much.

"God, I... love math so damn much. Anyway, I think there may be one or two ways I could, eh... persuade you to tell me things."

"I doubt it. You'd have to do your worst."

"Careful what you wish for, Kitty Cat. Wink wink.

"...Hey, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Well, I don't know, young Angela... can you?"

"...

"Typical teacher. Fine, fine; may I ask you a personal question?"

"Certainly, you reserve the right to ask any question and every question. Depending how personal it is, I conversely reserve the right to plead the fifth. But go ahead."

"'Keydokers. Well...I'm sorry your marriage didn't work out. But... may I ask why?"

"Oh sure, I don't mind. He was a nice enough guy, and I thought I was in love with him at the time. The thing is... we were pretty young, and it didn't really occur to us till after we tied the knot that we'd kinda rushed things. It was...semi-impulsive. Not exactly spur of the moment, but, we certainly should've dated longer first. And for the first couple years, things were still pretty nice. It's just that after those few, I think we both found out we just...weren't in love with each other. Anymore. If we ever truly were. Sometimes that's just what happens, and it's as simple as that, and there's nothing you can do. Well, there are things you can try, but...if you're just not in love anymore... you're just not in love anymore. So we drew it out for those six years, then finally admitted and agreed we were lying to ourselves. The main thing we did right was decide to wait and see if it worked out before we had children. So, no kids. We both felt a little ashamed we were gonna be faced with a failed marriage, but...life isn't about status. And anyone who judges you on that kinda thing isn't worth your time anyhow. So we went our separate ways, and... that was that. I've dated a few people here and there since, but nothing as serious."

A few people?... Only male people?

"...Quite a story. Thanks for sharing so much with me."

...

"That was just...the most fun ever. Thanks again for today, Cat."

"My sentiments precisely, Angie. I'd love to do it again sometime."

"So...guide me back to your house?"

"Grab a left up here on Reginald Highway, then you can turn right on Edgewater Street and that'll lead you into the neighborhood."

"Cool...and then I just come back on Edgewater, keep going this way and that takes me to Juniper Street?"

"Abso-tively posi-lutely. Call me in a few days, we'll discuss our next meet-up."

"I really can hardly wait. ...Y'know, Cat...as much as we talked and got to know each other today, I'm still thinking of thing after thing about myself I wanna tell you. It's like they're...they're fighting to be first in my mind. I may have to make a list. Then again, if I do that, it might make next time seem more like an interview than a date. Maybe I should let us do it spontaneous, like this time. I mean, this time worked out pretty well. Well, really well, actually. I-I mean, I suppose we could wing it too. Y'know, th—"

"Angie, Angie, sweetheart...relax. It's okay. No matter what happens, I'm sure we'll both have fun. Don't worry. I like you."

"...I really like you too."

...

"Well, here we are. I'm sorry I can't invite you in, Angie. At least I shouldn't; I've got a lot of things to do tomorrow and I should be getting to bed pretty... well, now. I'd be delighted to have you walk me to my door, though."

"Well, it'd only be my pleasure to delight you." Slam. Slam. "So, um... I-I know I don't have to ask if I can see you again. But, uh...as far as what form the, uh... well, th-the...y'know..."

"I know. One on the cheek'll do just fine."

"One on the cheek it is." ... Smooch.

Smooch. "G'night, Angie."

"G'night, Cat."

*****

The Fourth: One Big Happy Family Outing

Thursday, July 4th, 1991, 3:30 p.m.

As much as she disliked saying goodbye that eventful night, Angie was each bit as elated by how wonderful the day and date had gone. She dropped Cat off and returned to her car and house walking on metaphorical air. It was all she could do to keep her feet on the ground. She may have just gotten a sweet little smacker on the cheek, but also came away with a guarantee of date two. She waited to get her next weeks' schedule from Babbage's, and related it to Cat. Both were free on Monday, July the 1st, and so this was designated as their next date—in each sense of the word.

Tuesday the 2nd wasn't as free, so they elected to follow the template of date one. They'd spend a chunk of the day together and bring it to a close before too late. After refreshing a list of shared interests, they had their destination: the science center. Just about every branch of the world of science was represented, in its own wing of exhibits. They meandered through each, sparking discussions, reading plaques, learning a few new things. Two thirds way through the exhibits, they handily had their spot to take a break. And to recreate the main ingredient of date one.