Betty

Illicit Meetings

James found herself at the pristine white door around 2:53. She knocked, the smoothness of layered paint rubbed against her skin.

A moment later the door was opened. James was greeted by a man with blue eyes and messy blonde hair that was clearly passed onto his daughters.

"James I presume?" the man said, his voice was gruff but softened by a touch of affection. Something that felt foreign to James.

She nodded. He opened the door further to let her in. "Betty's just upstairs."

Just as he said that, Betty came down the stairs and smiled when she saw James. "Hey! Come on, we'll work up in my room," Betty said as she waved her hand signaling James to follow her, which she did.

When she saw Betty's room she was in awe. It was at least 3 times bigger than her own. A white double bed was at the center, a dresser was to the left next to the bay window that had bookshelves underneath, then a small walk in closet, mirror, and desk were on the right. Picture frames of her and her family along with awards adorned the room. The walls were a soft yellow that seemed to describe Betty's presence perfectly. The empty wall next to the door had hand painted roses.

"Wow, your room is really nice. Did you paint that?"

"Yeah. It's not finished though."

"You're good," James complimented.

"Thanks. So, what do you want to start on?" Betty asked.

The two laid out a draft of ideas and information as they researched on their topic. A few hours passed as James worked on the desk, and Betty on her bed. They chatted and bounced ideas and thoughts back and forth with ease.

James excitedly rambled on about some article she found that was perfect for their project.

"You're an absolute nerd, you know that right?" Betty noted.

"Yes, I am fully aware," James jokingly shot back.

"Yet no one can tell."

James properly turned around in the chair to face Betty. "That's by design."

"Why?" Betty asked, her focus now on the conversation.

"Don't need more reasons for people to bully me." It was obvious from Betty's face that she was not expecting that response. James knew she didn't need to give Betty more explanation to it, especially since Betty was one of those people who hung out with those bullies. Yet, James continued, "when you're one kind of different, people notice. More than one, you're a target. I've been more than one my whole life, in many different ways. I've learned to hide it."

"Can't being different be a good thing?"

"It can. Just not here. Not in this town."

*****

"So, why the name James?"

"Dad named me after himself."

"Was he expecting a son?"

"Yeah."

"Did he not think of you possibly being a girl?"

"Didn't stop him, did it? Why Betty?"

"It's a nickname. I prefer it over my full name."

"And that would be?"

"Rebekah."

*****

"Have you seen Hamilton?" James asked.

"No, why should I have?"

"Nah, it's just you give me Eliza vibes."

They watched it. The work they had planned on was forgotten.

By the end of it, Betty was in amazement of the magic of Lin-Manuel Miranda.

"Why do you think I'm Eliza?"

"You'd accomplish a lot if you wanted."

"You really think so?"

"I know it."

*****

"Did you have the cafeteria food yesterday? It was absolutely terrible," Betty said.

"I don't eat at the caf."

"Why not?"

James shrugged. "I don't like crowds."

*****

"Why do you hang out with those girls? You're not like them."

Betty looked at James. For a moment Betty wanted to defend her friends, get upset at James for what she was impling. But she just sighed.

"I don't know how not to."

The blue eyed girl just nodded thoughtfully.

"You're not going to say anything about it?" Betty asked as she had expected James to tell her that she should be doing things because she wanted. Not for others, to keep an image.

"People do what they need to survive. Whatever it may be," James said simply.

*****

James and Betty headed down the stairs as Betty was about to see James out. They had finished their project for class a few days before the deadline.

"James, do you want to stay for dinner?" Betty's mom asked.

"Oh, it's alright. I wouldn't want to impose."

"Don't worry about that, it wouldn't be a problem."

"I- thank you, but I have to head home. My dad's waiting."

"Well, then you have to at least take some of the pot roast I made," Mrs. Lewis said as she started to grab a tupperware for it.

"Thanks Mrs. Lewis," James said when Betty's mom gave her the food.

"It's Lisa."

James nodded and with Betty to the door.

"I'll see you at school?" Betty asked.

"Sure," James said, well aware that seeing Betty at school literally meant just seeing her. There would be no 'hello's', or smiles of acknowledgement. Just glances.

James picked up her skateboard that was leaning against the wall and headed down the porch steps.

"James, wait," Betty said.

She turned around to see the glow of the setting sun against Betty's golden skin. James did her best to avoid staring.

"I've really enjoyed spending time with you. I- Wo- by any chance would you like to do study sessions together like this?"

James knew the right and better choice was to say no. It wasn't that James didn't enjoy it as well, it was the fact that she was. Then to just return to school where they barely acknowledged each other, was a constant painful sting each Monday.

So James decided to say no. "That would be nice."

Betty smiled. "Okay, see you next week then."

"Next week," James confirmed and headed home.

She was such a useless lesbian.

*****

By the time James got home the sun had completely set. It made the darkness of her home feel pitch black when she entered. She flicked on the lights. There was a groan from the living room. James just ignored it while she tossed her bag onto the floor and headed to the kitchen to heat up the pot roast Betty's mom gave her.

When James finished she put a plate and glass of water on the coffee table in front of the couch where her dad was. Her dad's eyes groggily opened.

"Thanks Jamie," her dad mumbled.

James just nodded and took a plate of her own upstairs.

For once, James found it hard to focus on homework. Her mind was elsewhere, thinking about a certain blonde haired girl.