Winter Jacket Read Free Page A

later.”
     
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    After my last student meeting of the day, I met up with Troian at Peggy’s, an understated lesbian dive-bar with a small dance floor.  Troian, Nikole, and I weren’t regulars, but we went enough to have become familiar with some of the tenured bartenders.  I’d never met Peggy, however.  I wasn’t even sure there was a Peggy though. 
    “You’re wasting a perfectly good opportunity,” Troian complained. The two of us sat at a table for four a few feet from the main bar.  She demolished a peanut shell between her thumb and forefinger and brushed the crumbs onto the floor.  She rubbed her fingers together, now dusty and salty from the peanut shell, and made a disgusted face.
    Tonight was some kind of cowboy or ranch-themed event, which meant the DJ was playing country music and every table had a bowl of peanuts. Lately management had been experimenting with themed evenings to drum up business mid-week. For a Thursday night the bar was relatively empty, despite the drink specials and complimentary nuts. The place was usually packed on the weekends with local college women, so when I did frequent here, it was usually on a weekday night.  I didn’t hide my sexuality from the University or students; I just wasn’t about to rent out space on a billboard to announce it. The school was small and a little on the conservative side.
    I ran my own fingertips over the rim of my beer glass.  “I told you I’m not ready to date again.  It’s too soon.”
    Troian rolled her eyes and made a frustrated noise.  “You’re single for the first time in over a year, Bookworm.  If I were in your situation, I’d be getting so much random pussy.”
    “Why do you have to be so crude?” I said, wrinkling my nose.
    “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Don’t pretend to be a prude.  I know you too well for that.”
    “Well it’s easy for you to sound so cavalier about one-night stands,” I countered. “You’ve only ever had sex with Nikole.  You’re a shiny gold star, my friend.”
    Troian stuck out her chin defiantly. It was so easy to get her worked up; it had become one of my favorite hobbies over the years.  She was great at dishing out the hits, but pouted like a professional when she felt attacked. “Yeah, well I bet you wouldn’t have objections to a one-night-stand with Hunter.”
    I choked as some of my beer went down the wrong tube.  By now I was used to Troian’s taunting and off-color comments about my quirky student, but l ike me, she’d always called her “Winter Jacket.” Hearing Hunter’s name out of Troian’s mouth made me uncomfortable.  Using her actual name seemed too taboo, even for us. 
    I couldn’t meet Troian’s smug stare.  She knew she’d gotten to me.  “When is your girlfriend getting here?” I asked as I shredded a cocktail napkin.  It was a habit of mine, to tear at things whenever I felt uncomfortable, needing something to do with my hands.
    “Why?  You need someone to protect you?” she smirked. She loved winning.
    “Maybe,” I grumbled.
    I watched her dark eyes light up and a broad smile spread across her face.  That look could only mean one of two things – free cake or Nikole had arrived.  Troian hopped up from her seat to greet her girlfriend. “Hey, babe,” she said, still smiling. 
    The look on her face was enviable. Troian and Nikole had been together forever, while I had whipped through a rapid succession of insignificant significant others.  It wasn’t that I had anything against monogamy; I just wasn’t very good at it.  But I wanted it.  I wanted to find that one person who could still make me smile after nearly a decade of being together, who the anticipation of meeting up with after so many years still gave me butterflies.  I was 30-years-old.  I’d done enough sowing wild oats for one lifetime.              
    “I’ll get you something to drink,” Troian offered without having to be asked.  She gave