Intentions - SF9 (22 page)

"I just stay on the ten, right?" Ryan asked.

"Yep. When we get close there's a Hughes Market that's open all night. Let's stop there and get some supplies."

"How rustic is this place?" Mia asked, visions of log cabins dancing in her head.

"Oh, it's not rustic. But his girlfriend neither cooks nor eats, so all they ever have in the house is salad dressing and wine."

After buying enough food for snacks and breakfast, they ascended a narrow, winding road off Malibu Canyon until they reached a sprawling glass-walled ultramodern home. From the entryway, all that they could see was the deep black of the ocean, and they could just detect the thrum of the waves. "Wow, some view, I bet," Ryan mused.

"Yeah. It's nice." Jordan searched in her wallet to find the code for the door. "Key in 11-15-78," she instructed Ryan.

"Cool," Ryan said as the door opened. "Jamie's parents use her birthday too."

"That's the girlfriend's birthday. I'm six months older," she added dryly. Ryan shut her mouth immediately and decided that she would not make another personal comment about any of the occupants of the house.

The place was beautiful in a spare, industrial sort of way. There were no mementos or family pictures around, but Ryan did see a couple of shots of a ruggedly handsome blonde man with a much younger, silicone-enhanced, model type. Jordan went out to the balcony that ran the width of the house on the ocean side and sat on the railing to breathe in the salt-laden air. It was obvious that she needed a few minutes alone, so everyone else went into the gorgeous but nearly empty kitchen. They finally found a knife and some forks and spoons, and they took the large fruit salad they had prepared out to the living room.

Jordan had come back in and put a calming CD on the player, and for several frenzied minutes she and Ryan ate in silence. When a sizable dent had been put in the platter, Ryan relaxed in the modern leather chair that wrapped around her, and a few moments later she was joined by her always cuddly partner. Mere moments later, Jordan and Mia were wrestling on the couch in a passionate tangle. Ryan patted Jamie on the butt, and they quietly got up to find a guest room. They were halfway down the hall when Jordan gasped out, "Third door on the left."

Ryan was too tired even to notice if, or how, the room was decorated. All she saw was a big empty bed, and after she peeled her clothes off and went to the bathroom, she made a dive for it. She let out a pleasure-filled hiss as her bare skin hit the cool cotton sheets, and she lazily mused, "Sometimes when I'm really tired, it boggles my mind how good it feels to lie down. This is definitely one of those times."

Jamie snuggled up next to her and molded her body to fit tight. "It feels so good to lie next to you, I hardly notice how the bed feels," she admitted. "But I will agree that being horizontal right now is a very good thing. I love you, Baby. Sleep tight."

"Mmm-hmm," Ryan murmured and was asleep within seconds.

When Mia blinked her eyes open to the bright sunlight of a warm Malibu morning, she turned her head to see Jordan, wide awake, her head resting on a braced hand. "You are so pretty when you sleep," the taller woman murmured, tracing a fingertip along Mia's jaw line.

Mia rolled onto her side and smiled up at her. "Why, thank you. You've never told me that you think I'm pretty."

Jordan visibly blanched. "I…I haven't?"

"No…but it's okay, Jordan. You show me that you find me attractive."

"Well, I do," she stuttered. "Think you're pretty, that is. Very much so."

"Thanks," Mia sighed. "I think you are, too, but I bet you hear that constantly, don't you?"

"No, not really," she said thoughtfully. "When I work, I'm much more likely to hear a bunch of people standing around criticizing different parts of me-like I'm a group of body parts unconnected to a person."

Mia chuckled softly as she said, "What could someone possibly criticize you for? You're perfect."

"Ha!" Jordan rolled onto her back and started the list. "Hair is too pale to work against light colors; eyes can look too cold; dark lipstick makes me too pale unless I have a tan; a tan makes me look too dark to sell the 'ice princess' look; shoulders are too 'mannish'; arms are too long to wear anything tailored; thighs are too muscular to look feminine…"

"My God! They say things like that to your face?"

"Mmm…sometimes, but even if they don't want you to hear, you do. The people from the ad agency are there, people from the product are usually there, and then the creative people. They argue while you're standing there trying not to feel like a piece of meat. It's really no fun."

"Why do you do it?" Mia asked softly.

"Two reasons. It's great money for a pretty short amount of time. I just do local stuff, like Gap and Levi's, so I never have to travel. Plus, it's good for my image. I think USA Volleyball might like the idea of having one of the members of the Olympic team also be a model. They love to be able to categorize you like that," she said dismissively.

"Volleyball means a lot to you, doesn't it?" Mia asked softly, looking up into Jordan's pale blue eyes.

She nodded somberly, and said, "I need to talk to you about this, Mia."

"Okay…go ahead."

Jordan sighed, and linked her hands behind her head as she gazed up at the ceiling. "Volleyball is more than something I like. It's what I've structured my life around. Since I was…oh…eleven, I'd guess, I've had this goal. That's ten years, Mia, ten years out of 21 that I've been working for this. I've been to every major national tournament, played on the best club teams in southern California, gone to clinics all over the world. I've missed Thanksgiving and Christmas with my family for most of those years, since there are always holiday tournaments somewhere. I've sacrificed so much-and now it's close…it's really close, and I can't screw it up now."

"Why are you worried about screwing it up now?" Mia asked, feeling like she was missing an important clue.

Jordan turned to her and said, "Because of you."

"Me? Why me?"

"Not you, per se," Jordan admitted. "But I'm worried about going further with this, Mia. I guess I want to make sure that we're on the same page before we get any deeper here."

"Okay," she said hesitantly. "We can do that. Tell me where you are."

"I'm focused on my sport and on my goal of making the Olympic team. If I can make it this year, that's great. But if I have to play in Europe for another three years, to get a chance at 2004, that's what I'll do. It's my priority, Mia. It's a much bigger priority than my sexuality, or my infatuation with you. I'm sorry if that sounds cold, but I have to be honest with you."

Mia rubbed her hand up and down Jordan's arm a few times in a reassuring fashion. "I think I knew that, Jordan. I don't want to distract you from your sport."

Jordan chuckled as she said, "No, you're distracting me from school. I'm actually playing better than I have since I hurt my shoulder four years ago. Why, I don't know, but even Coach Placer has noticed it. I guess I'm happier," she said shyly. "You make me feel like I can jump higher and spike harder."

"Well, that's a good thing then, huh?"

"Yeah, it is for me. But is it what you want, Mia? I don't want this to just be about me getting my needs met. What do you want?"

"I'm not sure what I want, Jordan, other than to be able to make sure we stay friends. I like you a lot, as I'm sure you can tell, but even though I'd like to have sex with you, I want to make sure we keep our friendship."

"I want that too," Jordan insisted. "That's vital for me."

"Sounds like we have the same goals," Mia ventured.

"But what about the big picture?" Jordan persisted. "I don't think I'm in any position to be in a relationship, Mia. I don't want to come out to my family or my friends. I don't want the people at USA Volleyball to know about me." She looked up at Mia rather helplessly and said, "I'm not like Ryan. It's going to take me a long time to feel comfortable being out."

"Jordan," she soothed. "I'm not a lesbian, and I'm not at all sure that I want to be in a lesbian relationship. I like you-a lot. I'd like to sleep with you, yes, but I'm not planning on making this a lifetime commitment. I don't think that's who I am."

"I think that's who I am," Jordan mused. "And I think it more and more when we're together. I can't see myself dating men after being held and touched by you. I really think I'm a lesbian, Mia."

Mia stroked her face, smiling over at her. "That's good to hear. I think you'll be happier once you make some decisions for yourself. I just want you to know that I'm not going to be jumping into lesbian land with you. That's not me."

"That's cool," Jordan agreed. "I just want to make sure that you're not going to expect me to come out and tell everyone about us."

"No thanks," Mia said, her eyes wide. "This is private, Jordan. I'm not ashamed of being attracted to you, but I have no interest in my family finding out. I don't want to take you home for Christmas," she chuckled.

"I'm sure I'll be at a tournament, anyway," Jordan laughed gently. "So let's summarize, shall we? I'm probably gay, you're probably not."

"I'm definitely not," Mia insisted, while laughing softly.

"Okay, you're definitely not. Neither of us wants this to be public, so we'll keep it low key."

"Yeah. No kissing on the steps of the library like Jamie did not two days after pledging that she and Ryan were just friends," Mia scoffed, still a little hurt by Jamie's deceit.

"Got it. No kissing in public. Also, no family introductions," Jordan decided.

"Correct. No coming out to friends, either."

"Check. No friends-except Ryan and Jamie. I think they've already gotten the hint."

"Yeah, they're both pretty quick," Mia smiled, and added to the list. "No long-term commitments."

"Correct. Day-by-day commitment is enough for me."

"Fair enough. I'll give you 24 hours notice if I don't want to see you any more." Mia was clearly teasing.

"Good deal. One last big one," Jordan said, smiling broadly. "No falling hopelessly in love with me, then giving up school, family, and friends to chase me all over the world while I pursue my dream."

Mia acted as though she was considering all of the elements of the statement. "Hmm…that's gonna be tough. Can I fall hopelessly in love with you if I don't give up everything to chase you around the world?"

"Nope. I'd rather you didn't," Jordan teased.

Mia sighed and rolled her eyes a little. "That's a tall order, Jordan, but it's a deal." She shuffled closer and rested her head against her friend's chest. "I can't guarantee that I won't fall hopelessly in like with you, though. I'm only human."

When Jamie and Ryan emerged from their room a little after nine, Jordan and Mia were sitting in the living room staring at them with concern. "I thought you guys had died in there," Mia said. "I assumed you were having sex, but when I listened at your door I didn't hear a sound!"

"Do you always listen at our door?" Ryan asked with a smirk, not putting it past her roommate.

"No. Don't be silly. I've never been up before you, so I haven't had the opportunity," Mia said smugly.

"I will have to admit that this is a new able-bodied record for me," Ryan said. "I guess I didn't realize how tired I was."

Jamie sat on the couch and pulled her lover with her. "I'm beginning to get worried about you, Honey. You've been much more tired than usual."

Ryan yawned deeply, still fighting the lethargy that seemed to have settled into her bones. "I guess you're right. I haven't had my same spark since I had the flu. Maybe I should go to the doctor."

"When do you have time?" Jamie asked, a little frustrated. "You're busy every minute of the day."

"I'll go during break if I don't feel better," Ryan promised. "Even though I'm tired, my appetite is perfectly normal. Let's eat!"

"What about Mass?" Jamie asked.

"Shit!" Ryan ran for the shower as she exclaimed her dismay. "We've got to leave in ten minutes, Jamie. If you're not ready, I'm going without you!"

Just because she loved Ryan more than she cared about making a good impression, Jamie spent her ten minutes making a little snack that they could eat in the car. She looked decent enough, having put on a clean pair of chinos and a polo shirt, but her appearance did not live up to her usual crisp standards.

When Ryan emerged from the bedroom, she showed enough concern for how she looked for both of them. She was wearing a pair of black slacks that Jamie had never seen before, a crisp, white, banded collar blouse, and a black cotton sweater vest, every tiny button neatly fastened. "My, but you look nice," Jamie said. "Where'd you get those slacks?"

"Oh, they're really old-from high school. My proportions have changed since then, but these are long enough now that I'm thinner. My hips were a lot narrower then, so my waist wasn't much smaller than my hips." She pulled up her sweater, and Jamie could see that they rode rather low on her waist. "They should be up here," she indicated, pulling them up to the proper spot, "but then they're too short."