Girl Crazy by Sacchi Green

Author:Sacchi Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2010-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

I AM NOT INTO WOMEN

Jacqueline Applebee

I am not, and I have never been, into women. I never experimented when I was in college, I never got so drunk that I accidentally kissed my female pals, and I never put on a show for any of my boyfriends as a special treat on their birthday.

But then I met Sheryl. Giggles were the soundtrack to her life. Every time I saw her, she was laughing about some silly thing or another. No one had the right to be that happy all the bloody time. Whenever I thought of her, and I seemed to think about her a lot, I could hear girly giggles in the background. It was like having voices in my head, but worse, because I knew I wasn’t crazy—she was. There was no reason for any of this. I wasn’t into women, and if I ever could be, it sure as hell wouldn’t be a ginger-haired girl who thought that Hello Kitty was the most important thing in her life.

Everyone has an inner child, but Sheryl’s redheaded child was right in my face. She worked two days a week at my office, and every time she came in, she brought sweeties to share. When she talked, especially when she stood close to me, her breath was aniseed twists, butter toffee, and chocolate caramels. Sheryl’s desk was covered in little stuffed toys. Her computer desktop showed an image of a cartoon cat. This girl was unreal! How had she got through her interview for this job? I never used to be so bitter until Sheryl started working in the office. I felt undermined—all the men would laugh about her juvenile antics, and I began to worry that as the only other woman in the workplace, I would get lumped in with their view of her.

I started to avoid Sheryl, as I couldn’t stand the constant childishness that made me feel stiff and awkward and…old. And that was the thing, really. She made me feel old, and I hated her for it. That jolly white girl didn’t have a care. I was a working-class black woman, and I knew all the hurdles that stood in my path. My life was not all fun and games, and I was serious for good reason.

I was making a cup of tea one afternoon when she came into the small kitchen that the office used. I mentally sighed, and braced myself for another mindless conversation.

“What’s that supposed to be?” She pointed at my arm, to the black tattoo that lay over the dark brown skin of my bicep. “It’s a pretty star,” she continued when I remained silent, desperately trying to ignore her.

“It’s a snowflake,” I said with gritted teeth. She raised an eyebrow and nodded, but then reached out and stroked her finger across it. I shivered right down to the soles of my feet, and Sheryl jerked away at my reaction in the same instant. We looked at each other, but the moment was broken as two guys from technical support walked in, chatting loudly.

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