Odd Girl by Artemis Smith Page A

had stopped herself. Beth did not want to be called, for Anne's own good Beth did not want to be called. Beth doesn't love me. Beth can never love me, I'm strictly kicks to her.
    But tonight the white telephone, so clearly defined in the dark of the room, was an alive, and tormenting thing. It sat waiting, ready to be used.
    Dammit, Anne cursed, I won't fight with myself this way. She looked at her watch. It was past midnight, but Beth would still be awake. She picked up the phone roughly and dialed. Each second was full then as she heard the quiet ring in the receiver and then the phone was answered and it was like a splash of cold water on her face. She awakened from being half asleep and realized that Beth had answered, and that she, Anne, was being very foolish.
    "I'm sorry, Beth," she said. "I shouldn't have called you. I'll hang up again." And before Beth could answer the white telephone was closed and perched on the table again like a fat little snowman, laughing.
    She lay flat on the sheets, closed her eyes and tried to sleep—until a buzzing current in her ears made her eyes open slowly and see the room. It was the doorbell.
    The full impact did not come to her. She rose automatically, wrapping a sheet around her, and went to the door. It was Beth, standing there in a raincoat, a kerchief around her hair. She looked very strong and concerned.
    "Hello, sleepy," she smiled. It was the warm, loving smile that had thrilled Anne the first time she saw Beth. It woke her and she began to shiver. Beth covered her shoulders with her arm and closed the door behind them. It was so good to be in Beth's arms once more, so good, so comfortable and soothing, so much like home. Beth kissed her cheek and then her neck and then her breast, and then they sat on the bed and Anne let Beth take away the shivers with her hands.
    "I've been such a fool," Beth said. "I should have known it would come to this."
    Anne took her hand and kissed it fondly and rubbed her cheek against it to make herself aware that Beth was really there, was not just a dream.
    "What am I going to do with you?" Beth sighed, taking away her hand and rubbing Anne's hair fondly.
    "It's so good to see you again," Anne said, holding her tightly. "I had given up hope."
    Beth lifted Anne's head gently by the hair and kissed her mouth and then pressed her cheek against Anne's cheek and kissed her ear and spoke softly into it. "I'm going to stay with you for a while."
    Anne felt a surge of happiness that took away her breath. She held Beth tightly and cried. It was too much happiness all at once. "I love you, Beth. I'll always love you!" she said.
    "No." Beth pulled her away gently and forced Anne to look at her face. "You won't always love me. I don't want you to love me." She smiled and held her and said again, "What am I going to do about you?"
    Anne wanted to hold Beth, tightly, and yet Beth herself was making her let go; she did not want her. Anne was imposing on Beth. Anne was being like Mark. She forced herself saying the words. "Please go now."
    "Please go, Beth," she pleaded. It did not sound like herself saying the words. "Please go now."
    Beth looked at her, surprised for a moment, and then she looked even reluctant. Her hands continued to hold Anne's firmly.
    Her hesitation gave Anne hope for a faint minute. Beth was deciding. Anne had not even hoped that it might come to a decision. She had thought Beth was sure of her feelings; there was hope. But only for a moment. Then Beth's brows curved seriously; she squeezed Anne's hands hard and then let go. Then, as quickly as she had come, she took her coat and left.
    The sound of Beth leaving seemed so final, so much like a nightmare. She would not see Beth again, she would not touch Beth again, or hear her voice ever again, not for many years. The reaction did not come as a shock; it crept up on her through the darkness of the room. And she found she could scarcely cry.
    * * *
    She awoke Sunday morning to the sound