Erotas Philia, Pt 4

 
 
Katy Scholl is in love with Charlotte, that much is fact. But when Charlotte suggests bringing Paul into their relationship, Katy is more than a little troubled, mostly due to the fact that she is a lesbian. "Erotas, Philia" follows Katy's headlong crash into the world of polyamory, fighting, screwing, and the idea of redefining love.
 
 
 

Chapter 4

“Go over it again,” Charlotte said, leaning her arms on the table and placing the tips of her clasped hands to her lips contemplatively. “One more time, please.”

I smiled, finally pleased with my tendency to over-research. “Okay. There are lots of different forms of polyamory—”

“And it’s not polygamy?”

No,” I said emphatically, making her jump slightly. I mentally kicked myself and reached over her kitchen table, taking her hands. “No, polygamy is based on marriage, and it normally isn’t really about love. I mean, sometimes it is, but—I dunno. I’m sorry.”

She squeezed my hands and stood, releasing them and going to the refrigerator. “You’re doing great. Polygamy is marriage….”

“And polyamory is love,” I finished, turning to stare up at her. Once again I was struck with our physical differences; she was soft and round where I was thin and sharp. Tall where I was short. I watched her reach for a glass and found myself smiling. “It’s only love. It actually means many loves.”

“And—and okay,” she said, and I could hear the nervousness in her tone. “This doesn’t mean you love me…less, right?”

“Honey—”

“I know you love me, I know that, but if you love someone else, then that means the love you have is divided, right?”

9230445157_0e17f6ddc3_z“You’ll love them, too,” I said emphatically, turning to sit sideways in my chair and watch her pour a glass of orange juice. “I don’t want to date someone and have them not date you. Make me one?”

She nodded, taking another glass down. “But what if I only want to love you?”

“Then we’ll forget the whole thing, keep this a funny conversation.” I stood, going to lean against the counter and taking the glass she offered me. “But I have a feeling that you want to know what it’s like with a man. Am I right?”

She bit her lip nervously; it made me smile. “I mean…I mean I’ve always been curious.” She quickly turned to me, her eyes wide and hands reaching to make sure I understood her. “But I love you! More than anything—”

I took her face in my hands and kissed her, slow and soft; a bit of a dirty trick, but I needed her to shut up just for a second. It worked. Her tight, stressed muscles unwound in my hands and she finally relaxed. I heard her put her glass down on the vinyl countertop so she could hold me, felt her sigh into me. I broke away, bumping my forehead against hers. “I know you love me, knucklehead.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are. I am a little, too. But I know you have a lot of love to give, and I want to help you give it.”

“But you don’t like boys!”80802260_5e57a57322

“Absolutely correct. But I can be friends with boys, so we just need to find someone that you can love and I can be friends with.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

She smiled, finally, and leaned back to grab her drink. “So how do we start?”

 

 
 
E.A. Hedgecock is a nationally-performed playwright, published novelist, award-winning slam poet, and freelance illustrator. Previous works include the novel Dangerous Fugitives and the plays “Fever Dream” and the nationally-performed “Handspeak”. She is 21 years old, and writes in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
 

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