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They meet at a party.
That’s how it always goes, isn’t it? You see someone at a party, you can’t stop thinking about them, later on you run into each other, and wow are you in love. Right?
Wrong. When Latula Pyrope and Porrim Maryam first met, it nearly ended in disaster. They hated each other. Porrim thought Latula was a faker. Latula thought Porrim was stuck-up. And it only went downhill from there.
Meulin had nearly had a meltdown. Latula was her boyfriend’s best friend’s girlfriend and she liked the wild girl. She had known Porrim for a long time, and they were close enough that she hadn’t had any second thoughts about inviting her to the party.
And then all hell had broken loose. The two girls had clashed like nothing Meulin had ever seen, and she had panicked, wondering if she had just started the hateship that would end the world. It had sure looked like it.
But people can surprise you. And really, nobody should expect girls like Latula Pyrope and Porrim Maryam to do anything predictable.
After the party, everyone thinks that the two will never speak again. But a few days later, they meet again at the grocery store. Neither speaks, but they both feel the other’s eyes on them. The next time it’s at the bar Porrim works at. They only talk enough for Latula to order drinks for her group, but they do talk. Then Porrim shows up at the skate park Latula frequents, looking for Meulin. The short girl, along with Kurloz and Mituna, has gone to get lunch, so the two end up sitting on a bench and talking while Latula tries to fix the sticky wheel on her board.
It’s a start.
It gets to a point – after the days and weeks go by, Porrim bringing Latula dinner on the nights she works late trying to support her boyfriend and her little sister, Latula finding stuff she thinks Porrim would like and bringing it to the bar at all hours of the day or night, exchanged information, masses of text messages, a few movies, some lunch dates, gifts and party meet-ups – after all of that it gets to the point where Meulin just has to ask.
Latula is flabbergasted. Meulin didn’t think that she would ever actually use that word, but it’s accurate. The gamer girl nearly chokes on her soda when Meulin asks if she’s dumped Mituna for Porrim. It’s okay, it’s fine, she’s not judging, Mituna will be sad but if it’s what makes her happy –
No. No, no, no way ever what are you even thinking Meulin she’s not hooking up with Maryam what the hell she is not dating Porrim.
Porrim says the same. The girl has a reputation for being what some would call easy and what she would call doing what she wants so get out of her business, boys and girls and both and neither and sometimes more than just one, and Meulin is fine with that but is Latula one of those girls?
No. She’s grown to like the girl but she can assure Meulin that no, she is most definitely not sleeping with Pyrope senior. Or junior (Latula’s little sister Terezi has got her hands full with Aranea’s cousin anyway). None of the Pyropes. Besides, the girl is absolutely smitten with her loud, silly Hamlet-boy. Really, Meulin. I thought you were on that ship, not this nonexistent Maryam-Pyrope hookup.
And that’s that. Latula’s never leaving Mituna, and Porrim will kiss who she likes. They aren’t together, not like that. But they are close. Closer than close – Porrim is the one Latula texts when she’s stuck at home with a broken ankle and bored out of her mind, l4tul4 is the most-called contact on Porrim’s phone. Meulin spends a long time puzzling over it, but eventually gives up all but the simplest answer. Yes, they love each other. No, they don’t love each other. They are friends, but they are more than friends. They’re just Porrim and Latula, and that’s all there is to it. It’s more than can ever be said.
***
It’s quiet. Porrim’s sister is out with her girlfriend, so it’s just the two of them. Latula’s teal-and-red board shoes are by the door next to Porrim’s black heels. The two jackets, one long and black, classy, beautiful, the other a battered red letterman with a pair of teal dragon wings hand-painted on the back, are hung up neatly.
The girls are in Porrim’s bedroom. The TV is playing a movie, volume turned so far down that it would be hard to hear, if either of them were even listening. But they’re not.
Porrim is mostly sitting up, facing the television although she’s not really watching. Latula lies down with her head in the other girl’s lap, bright-red shades off, eyes closed as the taller girl runs her fingers through the scarlet-dyed hair.
They don’t talk.
They don’t need to.
Outside, somewhere, there is a little sister getting in trouble with a girl who’s down an arm and an eye but eightfold-over in cunning and backstabbing. There’s another little sister kissing a girl with purple eyes, both feeling infinite, like they know everything, like they can live forever. There is a boyfriend, snoring and talking in his sleep as his younger brother continues coding across the hall. There is somebody, somewhere, who has kissed Porrim Maryam, but they aren’t right now. There is somebody who hasn’t kissed Porrim Maryam, but wears the red sweater she made for him, who is too busy writing to text his friend which is good because she wouldn’t answer him anyway. She is too busy being with a girl she is not in love with, neither one fully awake but neither one caring. But that is all outside, and right now they don’t care about outside at all.
This is them. Beneath the skateboard-shaped bruises and layers of makeup, the stiletto heels and Xbox controllers, the dragons and tattoos, this is them. Latula doesn’t yell and posture. Porrim doesn’t analyze and flirt.
This is not to say that those parts aren’t them. Latula really is as into her video games as she seems to be, and loves skateboarding more than almost anything. She is as fierce as the dragons she loves, fierce in gaming and in skating and in loving. She’ll never stop loving Mituna, and she’ll never stop loving Porrim. They’re different kinds of love, but she doesn’t give a damn. She loves them. The end. Porrim isn’t just playing with everyone’s hearts, she really does fall in love that easily – and out of love just as easily. But the love she feels for Latula is different, a kind that doesn’t need sex or romance the way her other relationships do, a kind that lasts far longer and runs far deeper.
Other people might not understand, might whisper that she’s cheating on her boyfriend, that she’s got a new lover, but when have either of these girls ever cared about what other people think about them?
All that can be said, in the end, is that it is a very good thing that a catgirl once decided to bring a friend to a party with her boyfriend, her boyfriend’s best friend, and her boyfriend’s best friend’s girlfriend.