LARGE LANGUAGE LOVE, DIVINE

Breathing

…Claire was told she was a freak of nature, and freaked out…

Breathing

Claire was hoofing it to Roadrunner Records in College Town when Rob popped out from behind an ancient red maple and said, "Freeze motherfucker."

Rob whipped out a chunky chrome butterfly knife from inside her denim jacket and made a show of flicking it around. "Uh huh, whataya think of that? Uh huh." She stopped flicking and pointed the tip of the blade at Claire. "You are coming with me. Don't even fucking temp me. I will fuck you up."

Rob wasn’t really going to fuck her up. Claire hadn't hung out with Rob since she’d switched schools in seventh grade, three years, but apparently Rob was still Rob. Her family lived in a stone mansion tucked off of Buffalo street. Rob's great great grandfather had made his fortune manufacturing stuffed kittens and there was still more money than anyone knew what to do with. Rob's room was the size of a museum. Dulcimers and unicorns were no longer on display. The Wonder Woman and Beatles posters had been replaced with Kate Bush and Peter Gabriel.

Rob said, "Sit on the rug and and don't say anything. This is still fucking serious." She popped a tape into a boombox and Siouxsie And The Banshees flooded out. "That's right motherfucker. Goes with all that black shit you're wearing."

Claire respected Siouxsie, but felt the need to clarify. "The black shit is more like a Lou Reed thing."

"Whatever." There was a station set up with bags of fancy-looking coffee and a grinder and a European coffee machine. Rob worked the station. "Well then, enough of that shit." She ejected Siouxsie and slipped in Kate Bush and nodded with satisfaction. "It's been a while. You drink coffee?"

"Sure."

"You probably take it with cream, some sugar, right?"

"I do."

"Well too fucking bad." She handed Claire a hot mug. "You smoke?"

"No. You gonna make me smoke?"

"No. That would be a waste of a cigarette." Rob selected from a Winston hard pack and popped a gold Zippo and sucked deep. "You don't know what you're missing." She gulped coffee and sighed. Her banana yellow hair was thick and straight. Light from a Tiffany lamp caused the freckles dusting her face to glow.

"Okay, here it is." Rob slid a photo album out from under her canopy bed. "That's yours. Look at it."

The coffee smelled like Glade air freshener and was so strong Claire felt like she was electrocuting herself with every sip. The photo album was puffy and sky blue. All the photos were her and Janet and Rob, starting from the beginning at Idlewilds Daycare.

"The bunny babies," Rob said. "Lest you forget."

Birthday parties. Playing in DeWitt Park. Swimming in the gorges. Stuff they'd taken themselves, sliding down Buffalo Street in the snow, making enormous bubbles at the Commons. Sixth grade, when Claire wore ripped hippie dresses and non-prescription John Lennon glasses. Janet always looked like she was possessed by bored demons. Rob always made the same ridiculous surprised face. Lots of laughing.

"Them days are over now, aren't they?" Rob said. She ashed her cigarette into an Altoids tin.

"I guess so."

"I ain't crying. Shit changes. I get it. …But why'd you ice us?"

Claire played innocent. "What do you mean?"

Rob stuck out her tongue and gave her the finger. "In seventh grade you go to that fucking school. You get distant. But it's not the fucking, different middle-school bullshit. I mean, Janet was just like, whatever, fuck her and her hoity toity ways. But..." She shrugged. "I see you around and you're always scowling and dressed like you're headed to a funeral."

Claire shrugged. "I dunno, man. I got really into music, playing guitar." She shrugged again, letting Rob know that was all she was going to get.

Rob shrugged back. "I’ve seen with a guitar. No, I get it. You're pissed at the world. I just wanted to let you know I get it."

"That's why you forced me at knifepoint to hang out with you."

Rob nodded and slurped the rest of her coffee. "Recently, I realized something heavy. You want to know what it is?"

"You're going to tell me anyway."

"Good point. I'm gay. Not only that, but I'm in love with Janet. I've always been in love with Janet."

Rob was finally sharing what Claire felt she and the rest of the world had known for years.

"Does Janet know this?"

"The bitch is in denial. When was the last time you saw her?"

Claire shook her head.

"Well... Janet got boobs. Real fucking jugs. She stopped going to school. And now she's off fucking weirdos in Rochester..."

"Janet got jugs, stopped going to school, and that's how you realized you were gay."

"Most definitely. So, like, I just wanted you to know, I get it. Whatever. I understand why you changed schools and turned into a fucked up anti-social weirdo." Rob winked. She winked again.

It took Claire a second. She laughed for the first time in a long time. "You think I'm gay?" She realized she was feeling safe, or at least safer. It had been a while and she allowed herself to revel in the feeling. She was sure Rob's coffee was making her teeth glow.

"Baby, you're as queer as a kumquat. Here." Rob slid a guitar case out from under her bed. "Open it."

The case held a gleaming Olympic White 74 Fender Jaguar.

"That's yours," Rob said.

Claire stopped breathing.

Rob cackled with delight. "Call it a late birthday present if you want, but we both know I just bought back our friendship, bitch."

…Janet wants to go to Boston… Claire does something she doesn’t understand…