FSE

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"Are you doing okay?" Mack shouted into Lauren's ear.

The women were at the Boathouse seated at a table near the back of the bar rather than at it, as had been tradition. It had a couple weeks since Lauren had her big talk with Mack. Things hadn't changed, much to Lauren's delight. They still had their Wednesday movie tradition, and they still found time to spend together between classes.

This nightwas a typical rowdy Friday. The crowd was joyful, and filled with ebullience over the weekday being finished. Local townsfolk mingled with students in drink merrymaking. Men of varying ages made themselves available to whatever singles they could spot. They would swoop in with offers of alcohol being a conversation starter and their way in.

"Yeah I'm fine!" Lauren shouted back. "Why do you ask?"

Mack pointed to Lauren's glass. "Your drink."

"What about it?"

"You've been drinking air for the last hour!" Mack laughed. Lauren looked down between her paws, surprised that she had not even given a drink order. "You're nervous aren't you?" Mack asked.

Lauren grinned and raised her paw, motioning a waitress to come over. "I don't think I can do this," she said.

"Yes you can," Mack said. She rubbed her paw along Mack's spine, relaxing the tension she felt beneath her digits. "You can do this, I believe in you Lauren."

"I'm glad someone does."

Since their talk, Lauren--on Mack's advice the following morning--had started going to a counseling group at the school's LBGTQ Resource Center. She listened, wept, shouted, wept, and listened some more. At the end, she felt like she was beginning to become comfortable with herself, as the other students gave her as much love and support Mack had shown. Her nervousness and anxiety still hadn't fallen away, but she was no longer wrapped up in her head about herself.

It had been Mack's idea to go out tonight, and see if Lauren could use her newfound confidence outside of the Resource Center. Only now, it seemed as though it was going to be another fluke. Mack had pointed out several people that she felt would catch Lauren's eye, only for the cat to shake her head and sip at the invisible air inside her glass.

Mack refused to back down. "Come on Lauren. I know you can do this. Here, I'll help you." She scanned around the room, and her nose wrinkled in disgust at the alpha-male types littering the floor. "Jeez is this the type I go for?" she asked, rolling her eyes. Things hadn't gone great with Gary after all, and Lauren couldn't help but feel a little elated that Mack wasn't with him at this moment.

"I don't even know my type," Lauren said. She looked around. The patrons were all absorbed in their own little worlds, none trying to throw themselves out there to catch eyes. There were some who bled desperation, hungry for the attention even. But there weren't any whom Mack could point towards and agree on.

"Its not so much about types, but building that shared moment," Mack said. "Talk to someone. Find someone you think interests you, go over, and say hello." She turned around her seat. "And speaking of, I'd like to say hello to our waitress! I'm dying of thirst here!"

Almost on cue, the waitress appeared. The gray squirrel bounded towards the women's table over the bustle of the crowd in front of her, quietly apologizing while she waded through the partons. "Hey sorry guys!" she said, her voice bubbly and sweet, tinged with a touch of nervousness as she pulled out her notepad. "We're swamped tonight as you can tell!" She looked up, and her eyes brightened when she took notice of Mack. "Oh hey Mack! I didn't know you were here!"

"Whitney? Oh my gosh! I didn't know you worked here!" Mack said. She stood up and hugged the squirrel. "When'd you start?"

"A few days ago!" Whitney replied. She looked past Mack and saw Lauren. The cat's ears blushed as she turned away. "Who's your friend?" Whitney giggled.

Before Mack could answer, a bellow came from behind the bar, calling for Whitney's help in the back. Whitney apologized to the women, and took down their drink orders really fast. Two long islands, with Mack ordering the same for Lauren. As Whitney walked away, Lauren's eyes lingered on the squirrel's shapely figure, soaking in the way her hips rocked and swayed.

Mack sidled up against Lauren's shoulder, grinning. "I see you looking," she said. She did not disguise the nudging nature in her voice. Lauren looked down. She played with a groove in the table as she scraped at it with her forepaw and claw.

"Its okay! Whitney's really nice!" Mack said.

"She...does seem it," Lauren admitted.

"She's in my Creative Lit class," Mack continued. "We sit across from each other. She loves writing romance stories."

"Oh...oh yeah?" Lauren replied as her ears flattened back bashfully. "She must be really good."

Mack smiled, and then lowered her voice."Well, you can ask her, cause here she comes!"

The squirrel brought with her their drinks and placed them in front of the women. Lauren glanced upwards for the first time, and took notice of the squirrel. The black and blue Boathouse t-shirt hugged tight to her torso, revealing the curves and shape of her chest and waist. She wore modest makeup, with a subtle gloss over her lips that gleamed with her smile. Despite the dim lighting of the bar, Lauren could see her bright blue eyes shining through. They sparkled, almost singing with every bat and wink.

"Whitney, let me introduce you to my friend here," Mack said, with all the subtlety of a football linebacker. She gestured towards Lauren. "Lauren Robinson, meet Whitney Dukowski."

"Hi!" Whitney extended a paw towards Lauren. The bronze bracelets on her wrist jingled. "Nice to meet you! Any friend of Mack's a friend of mine."

"Th-that's good to hear," Lauren said nervously. She smiled crookedly in the squirrel's direction, and could feel Mack's elbow in her ribs. She took the hint, and shook Whitney's paw. It was soft, yet the grip was firm and strong.

"Is she always this nervous?" Whitney joked to Mack. The mouse sighed, shrugged, and smiled. She looked back at Lauren. "Its okay, I'm not that scary!" Whitney said, giving Lauren back her paw.

Lauren apologized. "I'm...I'm sorry. I just...don't do well...when meeting new people." She stared deep into Whitney's eyes, and saw the same comforting nature that she'd in Mack's. She could feel herself trusting the squirrel, who never took her eyes away from Lauren as they talked.

Whitney laughed and held up a paw. "Preaching to the choir sister. I just go out and get it over with, you know?" Lauren allowed herself to giggle. Relaxation settled in, with her tail swaying with grace behind her.

The conversation was interrupted when the squirrel heard her name being called from the kitchen. She rolled her eyes, and then turned back to face the women.

"I gotta get back to work, but here!" She ripped a piece of paper out from her notepad, and scribbled on it. She handed it to Mack, revealing her name and telephone number written down. The "i" in her name had been dotted with a heart, and ended a smiling face.

"Call me later guys! We should hang out!" she shouted and waved, disappearing into the back of the bar. The chatter rose around them, as multiple conversations converged into one recognized self instead of multiple disparate ones, rendering it impossible to tell whose voice was who. But Lauren's ears had perked up when she had detected the high sweetness of Whitney's as she left them. She affected a demure smile, as the pink of her ears turned scarlet with blush.

Mack gave Lauren the paper with Whitney's number on it. "Here, you take this," she said.

"Wait, what? Why? You know her better!" Lauren said, her tone diffident and nervous. "She'd think I was a geek if I called her!" Mack shrugged, then sipped her browned drink.

"Yeah...true...but," Mack said, "I know she likes you."

The cat was stopped in her speech. Her heart thudded. She began to open her mouth, but Mack put a paw in front of it.

"Shhh," the mouse said. She took another sip of her drink. She folded the paper and stuffed it inside of Lauren's shirt pocket. "Let the wind blow, Lauren. Let the grass grow."

Lauren raised an eyebrow. "What the heck does that mean?" she asked. "Hyperbole?"

"Nah," Mack said. "Advice, boo."

Lauren was silent for a few moments. She pulled the number back out from her pocket and looked at it, memorizing Whitney's name and the digits. Her stomach twisted in nervousness, and she inhaled heavy gulps of air. Her mind rolled back over to the image of the squirrel, and she wanted to see her again. Sooner, rather than the promised later.

"You'll do fine," Mack said. "Besides, you know what?"

"What?" Lauren asked.

"Your glass is empty."

Lauren was confused. "Huh? But I haven't..." she looked down, and noticed Mack holding two empty glasses. She'd drank both of theirs, and flashed a cheshire cat grin in acknowledgment. Lauren couldn't be mad as she sighed. She smiled at her friend, taking her emptied glass back from her. "I'm not sure that was the best idea," she said.

"Probably not," Mack hiccuped. "But now you got a reason to get another drink." The mouse's speech was beginning to slur, but Lauren couldn't help but smile. She held her paw high in the air, grinning as she saw she had caught Whitney's attention, with the squirrel gliding her way towards their table.

"Wow you guys must've been thirsty!" she said, picking up their glasses. "Refill?"

Mack turned towards Lauren and winked, nudging her in her stomach as she got up from her seat. "I gotta go to use the bathroom," she said, putting a paw on Lauren's shoulder. She leaned forward and whispered in Lauren's ear. "You can do this," she said, stumbling slightly as she ambled up the aisles towards the restroom. Lauren looked up, and saw Whitney waiting patiently as her eyes looked back into the cat's warmly.

"Y-yeah," she stammered. "You must've read our minds."

"Or saw your paw," Whitney replied. "I'm a regular Miss Cleo." She put down her tray and closed her eyes, putting her paw to Lauren's forehead. "I'm predicting you are going to ask someone out on a date...you'll be going home with someone tonight..." She opened her lids and looked at the cat. "How close am I?"

"Almost on the nose," Lauren said grinning. She could feel her heart thump heavy in her chest as she kept her gaze on Whitney. The squirrel never looked away from her either, and for a moment Lauren felt what Mack had talked about.

The shared moment.

Let the wind blow, she whispered in her mind.