Alice stares at Gaia’s receding back, the long Revlon-fair hair, the swaying hips, the arching curve of her spine. She is not a lesbian; but Alice can understand Gaia’s appeal.
“So she was your first love,” she tries to sound as non-chalant as possible
“Are you jealous?”
“Definitely not. My boobs are bigger and my ass don’t sag.”
“I was so young when I knew her.”
“Young, like fourteen?”
“Wow! You were like Juliet. As in Romeo’s girlfriend, Juliet.”
“Thank you, darling, for comparing me to a girl.”
“Juliet was 14 when she lost her head over Shakespeare’s fictional rendition of a boy,” Alice points out. The truth is, she cannot bring herself to even feign jealousy as it is pretty obvious that whatever Jonas had felt for Gaia is as dead as the two star-crossed lovers. She cannot keep herself from baiting him, though, because it’s so much fun. “So was she like in love with you too?”
“No, she was in love with a jock from school.”
“I guess because I was fourteen and pimply and she was three years older than me.”
“But she didn’t end up with the jock.”
“Nope. She got pregnant. He left her and went to the US. And I thought that was my chance to win her.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No. She migrated to Canada with her little boy.”
“You must have been devastated.”
“Not really. But she taught me lessons about women that I will never forget.”
Now Alice is jealous. She has always believed (in her vanity) that that woman is her. “So she left and you just gave up.”
“I wrote her for a year, actually. Snail mail, 300 of them I think. She didn’t write back.”
“Like ever?” Alice is really jealous now. Three hundred effing letters for Gaia-with-the-sagging-ass? And Jonas couldn’t even bring himself to email Alice without prompting!
“Well there was this mail I received from her just before I graduated from college. It was a wedding invitation.”
“She did that?” Alice exclaims. “That’s horrible. That must have been the worst thing a woman has done to you.”
Alice felt her face take on the red shade of the sunset behind them.