Guardian Girl (The Chronicles of Staffordshire) Read online

  Within weeks, Paulson’s paparazzi-magnet undergrads became inseparable; polar opposites in personality, twin sisters in spirit. The rest of the Paulson community knew better than to intrude upon the world dominating work-a-holics in 1426 Stilson Hall.

  The other girls on the floor gave them a nickname.

  “Lee-Nor.”

  Late one crisp, fall evening, the girls lay on their beds, reading to the strains of the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields rendition of “Autumn” from Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons.” Lenore lounged barefoot in a comfortably loose, button up, sleeveless denim dress. Lena wore something more “Sardi-like”; ragged, hand-cut short-shorts and a plain, white T.

  Without warning, Lena abruptly closed her book, tossed it to her desk, rolled to her side, and propped her cheek on her fist. She cocked her head and stared at Lenore.

  No smile. No words. Just a penetrating, curious stare.

  Lenore, sensing Lena’s gaze, glanced sideways. Lena winked. Lenore smiled. The model mimicked her roommate, closing and uncharacteristically tossing her own book to the floor, peering back at Lena with equal intensity.

  The girls watched each other, occasionally mugging and smirking, fighting the urge to totally crack up. As Lenore studied the frosh on the opposite side of the room, she experienced a painful moment of awakening. Lenore never before paid attention to Lena’s sublime beauty. She was simply too wrapped up in her own world to care.

  It wasn’t that Lenore didn’t like Lena. She did. A lot. Lena was the most likable and loving girl Lenore had ever met. After just a few months together, Lenore comfortably called Lena her “sister.”

  But Lenore never once paid attention to Lena’s appearance beyond the buxom girl’s utter disdain for underwires. Beyond the thoughtless superficiality of, “My roommate wears a lot of T-Shirts and jeans,” Lenore was stumped. Accustomed to analyzing and critiquing the style of other runway divas, Lenore never once paused to consider her roommate’s earthy allure.

  As Lenore played the staring game, her world tumbled.

  Lena wore her typical “in for the night” outfit; a scandalous pair of hand-cut shorts and a white T-shirt. Lena’s hair - never down, always up – struck Lenore as sensuously intoxicating. Lena’s Mediterranean genes endowed her with a thick, silken head of dark, brunette hair, properly complimenting her rich coloring. Lenore could not imagine why Lena always wore such long, beautiful hair pinned up or in a ponytail. As Lenore stared at Lena, she envisioned her roommate resplendent in a delicate Shalamar dress, wearing her hair down, shining strands fanning out across her shoulders.

  Lenore scanned Lena’s face. She never asked Lena her nationality and, curiously, Lena never mentioned it. Lenore caught glimpses of deep dimples in her roommate’s cheeks, surmising the tennis player came from a long line of Italian or Greek beauties, with irresistible chocolate eyes and the supernaturally carved cheekbones of a goddess.

  Lenore’s gaze lingered, floating and stalling here and there over the lines and curves of Lena’s body. She admired Lena’s full, pendulous chest, surmising that if Lena were to ever wear a bra it would uplift an already eye-popping bosom. Lena’s breasts hung heavily into one of her signature tops and she leaned on her elbow, studying Lenore in return.

  Moving down Lena’s body, Lenore drank in Lena's, bronzed, sinewy legs, imagining the sensation of Lena’s powerful limbs straddling her narrow waist as the pair lay naked in Lenore’s bed… Kissing… Embracing…

  Lenore’s heart fluttered. Her eyes popped. She felt heat and an itchy tingling in an unfortunate place. Her mind reeled.

  Lenore dropped to her mattress and flipped her head toward the wall, praying Lena would not taunt her for losing the staring game. Lena persisted with her gaze. Such a tight bond had formed between the girls in their few weeks together that Lenore felt Lena’s eyes boring into her from across the room.

  “Stop it!” Lenore pleaded.

  “Stop what?” Lena replied, stone cold stupid.

  “You are staring at me.”

  Still a touch insipid, Lena returned volley. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you were just looking at me, too, dearie.”

  “I KNOW! So just... Just stop it! "

  “Why? What’s wrong, babe?”

  Lenore fumbled and hesitated. “Because it feels... Strange. It is not right for me to look at my roommate this way."

  Lenore locked her eyes on the wall, ashamed at the attraction planting roots in her heart. She could not shake the image of Lena’s legs wrapping around her waist. Lenore imagined herself groping Lena’s buttocks, running her fingers up and down Lena’s limbs, massaging Lena’s breasts, kissing Lena’s lips. The itchy tingling would not go away. She wanted to scratch the itch, to rub it, to make it go away.

  "Lenore, what’s the big deal? We were just looking at each other."

  “But as I was looking at you and... I felt... OH! I cannot...!” Lenore cried. “Lena! I cannot do it! It is not right...”

  Befuddled by her roommate’s freak-out, Lena attempted to let Lenore down easily. "Hey! Relax, baby! It’s okay. Really. Look, Lenore… Do you want to know why I was looking at you?"

  The supermodel asked a self-evident question of the female tennis star with the picture of Billy Jean King hanging over her bed.

  "Because you are a lesbian?"

  Lena gasped and laughed. "A what? Not the last time I checked!"

  Lena furrowed her brow. An air raid siren echoed in her vacant skull.

  “Wait a minute! Wait a holy frigging minute! Did she just ask me if I’m a… A FRIGGING LESBIAN? HOLY SHIT! What IS it with women tennis players? Are we cursed or something? Why does everyone assume we’re lesbians? Do I even LOOK like a frigging lesbian?”

  “Lenore... Look… It’s… It’s okay. Look at me. Look… I’m not a lesbian, for God’s sake. Just look at me, will ya!”

  Lenore pressed her head deeper into her pillow.

  “Fine. Okay. Don’t look at me. It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m still looking at you and I'm not looking at you like... Like a frigging lesbian, for God’s sake!”

  “Good Grief! How do I get out of this one? Bounce the toes, Sardi…”

  “Look… Lenore… I was looking at you because I think you’re… Well… you’re beautiful. I mean… I just love looking at you.”

  Lenore sniffed loudly.

  “HOLY SHIT! ‘I just love looking at you?’ ARE YOU INSANE, SARDI? What are you saying! What the hell are you trying to say, you idiot?”

  Lena frantically bounced her eyes around the room, dying for inspiration, a way out, anything that would give a less-lesbian voice to her wholly-hetero emotions.

  “Look… Lenore… Sweetie… That didn’t come out right. I mean… I like what I see when I look at you and… I mean… I don’t mean like I like what I see when I see you on a magazine cover. I like what I see when I think about the beautiful, amazing girl living inside my roommate. My roommate and nobody else’s.”

  Lenore sniffed again, releasing a long, deflating sigh.

  “Okay… She sounds like she’s mellowing out. Easy, stupid… Easy…”

  “I mean… This world really doesn’t have a clue how truly beautiful you are beneath that gorgeous, Spanish skin of yours.”

  Lenore flipped her head back to look at Lena, tears slowing.

  “Okay… That’s better. Now… Careful, Sardi… Caaaare-ful…”

  “Do you want to know what I thought when we first met?”

  Lenore nodded, her eyes glassy.

  “Well… When I first met you, I thought you were going to be a totally uptight super-bitch. I figured… You know… A world famous supermodel has to be a high-maintenance diva, right?”

  Lenore smiled feebly.

  “I never told you this, Lenore… Actually, I’m kind of embarrassed to admit it. I knew who you were the second I came into the room. I’d seen you on magazine covers since I was 14. Hell, Lenore, I wanted to BE you! I mean… I’m a friggi
ng size 6 and you’re like a size minus 1. And you were always so elegant and you’re so beautiful, and you always wear such cool clothes! The second I saw you when I came through that door I felt like a total, worthless, mess.”

  A complimented smile lit Lenore’s face. “I never knew, Lena…”

  “Yeah, well I wasn’t about to let you know that. I didn’t want to give you an even fatter head. But then I got to know you. I mean… I got to know the girl inside the girl. That’s when I realized that you’re just as messed up as I am. I mean… You’re way more beautiful on the outside. But inside, you’re just as scared about life as I am. You know what I mean?”

  Lenore nodded.

  “I mean… You worked every day of your life, just like me. You did what you were told to do, went where you were told to go, and you held it all together with scotch tape even when you wanted to fall apart, just like me. You know, Lenore, you pack up your mess with nicer boxes and prettier wrapping paper, but… Inside… You’re hurting, sweetie. I can feel it. I feel it every day. And… It breaks my heart to see you hurting like that.”

  Lenore saw damp eyes looking back at her from the other bed. Lena reached into Lenore’s soul and spoke a truth the model feared nobody would ever understand.

  “Lenore… Did you know… Sometimes at night… I hear you crying?"

  Lenore shook her head against her pillow.

  “Do you know how much that breaks my heart? I mean… I want to reach into your heart, I want to find out what’s making you cry, and I want to kill it. I want to reach into your dreams and hold you tight and say, ‘It’s okay, freaky supermodel. Everything is going to be okay.’

  “Can you tell me what’s going on inside your dreams, Lenore? Why do your dreams make you cry?”

  “Lena… My dreams do not make me cry.”

  Lena tilted her head and crinkled her lips. “Then what the…?”

  “I am always awake at night, Lena. I rarely sleep. I am afraid to sleep because… I am afraid… Of what I might dream. At times I cry because I am sad, but I often cry because… Because I am afraid.”

  Lena’s gaped. “Afraid? What the hell do you have to be afraid of? You’re a frigging supermodel! You’re beyond beautiful! You have endorsements out your sexy ass and you have more money than God. And that’s before your daddy’s fortune gets added in! You have parents who totally love you…”

  Lenore cut Lena’s admiration short, shaking her head. “No Lena. My parents love who they ‘think’ I am. I have been away from them for so long… I have been in the care of others for so many years… I am no longer who they think I am.”

  Chatty Kathy sat in thunderstruck silence as Lenore opened her heart and confessed her fractured state.

  “My father warned me that modeling would demand much of me. He told me it would change me, that it would mean great sacrifices. I never understood how much sacrifice until it was too late to turn back. I have carried the honor of the De La Fuente name for so long… Others have governed me for so long…”

  Lenore’s eyes filled. “Lena… My parents expect me to look a certain way and live a certain way and do certain things in certain ways. If I am not perfect for them, then I am broken. When they think I am broken, they try to fix me. When they try to fix me I only become more broken.”

  Lena’s heart ruptured. “WHOA! Whoa, now! Lenore Consuela Maria De La Fuente...!”

  Lenore smiled. “MALENA SARDI! I did not think you paid attention!”

  “Yes, dearie, I know your full name. I know every beautiful amazing syllable. I’ll never forget it. Sometimes I just whisper it to myself because feels beautiful and exotic, just like my roomie.”

  Lena pointed forcefully in Lenore’s direction. “So let’s get this straight right here and now, sis. You are not broken. A little anal retentive at times? HELL, YEAH!” Lenore laughed. “But broken? Not by a long shot! You’re one of the most amazing girls I know. You’re brilliant and beautiful. And you are definitely not broken. I don’t give a damn what your father and mother might think. They’re out of their frigging minds if they don’t love you just for you!”

  Lena thought for a moment, squinted, and gave Lenore the, “Bad girl Lena Sardi throws a hissy fit” option. “Hey… You want me to go beat them with my new racket? It’s a mid-oversize aluminum and it’ll leave a hell of a welt…”

  Lenore laughed again, laughing through the tears that welled in her eyes. She felt creeping peace over the sensations Lena ignited within. Her roommate spoke as someone who loved her, not someone trying to fix her. Lena’s words made Lenore feel perfect and flawless for the first time in years.

  Finishing the track of the gaze that drove her to terror, Lenore drank in Lena’s erotic beauty. Lenore traced the length of Lena’s powerful legs and each flexing line, stopping at Lena’s sexy, bare feet, her toenails painted a gleaming, vivid red.

  Lenore looked back up, directly into Lena’s chocolate-eyed intensity.

  “Lenore, I want you to know something…”

  Lena stammered, lacking words to say what she wanted to say without further freaking out her roommate. She figured it was worth the risk. “You know, Lenore… I know we don’t know much about each other yet, but… I already feel like… Like you really are like the other half of me. I don't mean like, 'Marry me, big boy!' the other half of me, but like 'soul sisters' the other half of me.”

  Lenore could not break her gaze. Lena’s eyes gave her strength, shattering her fear, freeing her lonely soul.

  “Lena...?”

  “Yes, Lenore.”

  “Please say my name again.”

  Lena understood what others never would. She knew what Lenore needed to hear and why. She gifted Lenore with a loving, close-lipped smile that brought her deep dimples to life. Her lips parted…

  “Lenore… Consuela… Maria… De La Fuente.”

  Lenore’s heart raced as Lena spoke her name. Peace showered over her from head to toe.

  “Please… Say it again.”

  “Lenore Consuela Maria De La Fuente.”

  The warmth Lenore felt grew stronger, giving her a sense of hope, of intimate belonging to the girl speaking her name.

  “Again… Just one more time… Please, Lena…”

  “Lenore Consuela Maria De La Fuente.”

  The gentle way Lena said her name calmed the model’s fears. Lena did not use the directive, firm tone Armand and Alessandra used when correcting Lenore. It was the winsome voice of a lover. It was the voice of someone who spoke her name in ardor, not reproof.

  Lenore always loved her name. The way Lena spoke it, Lenore felt wholly, unconditionally loved. She watched the way Lena’s mouth softly shaped and presented, “Consuela.”

  Closing her eyes and sighing, Lenore imagined what it might feel like to have Lena embrace her, kiss her, and hold her through her fears each night. From across the room, Lenore breathed in Lena’s scent. A fragile, caressing scent, not a racket-breaking, tantrum-throwing scent.

  “Lenore…? What’s going on in there? Why are you smiling? What are you thinking?”

  Opening her eyes slowly, dreamily, Lenore dove deep.

  “Lena… I am thinking… I am thinking that I love you.”

  Seven

  The Wild Child stared unblinking into Lenore’s amber eyes. Her hands trembled and her heart pounded in her ears.

  “Now… Now hold on, Lenore…”

  Looking into Lenore’s eyes, Lena felt a creeping, comforting sensation, like a kitten snuggling against her belly, begging to be held. She blinked and imagined Lenore crawling up into her lap, offering herself up to be caressed, to be needed, to be wanted, and loved. Lena opened her eyes and Lenore was still there on her bed, palms up and defenseless.

  “Lenore...? What are you… What are you doing to me? What’s going on…?”

  As the seconds ticked by, Lena’s affliction grew. She felt Lenore’s spirit tumbling into her body. Lenore elbowed her way past steely, road-tested defenses, casting aside
Lena’s nagging sense of isolation, filling her instead with belonging.

  “Holy Shit! Lenore! What the hell are you doing to me? What’s happening to me?”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Lena stared slack-jawed at Lenore, finally understanding that inside Lenore’s spectacular, world-traveled body lived a fragile spirit, just one strong gust from destruction. Lenore was lonely, oppressively lonely, desperately craving love. She cried out for love in the only way she knew. Seduction.

  “Lena… Please… Please do not be afraid…”

  “Oh God, no! She’s going to say it! OH SHIT!”

  “I do… I am… I am in love with you, Lena Sardi."

  “NOOOOO! NO NO NO NO NO! NOOOOO!”

  Lena’s stomach churned. All she wanted to do was give Lenore some unconditional love. She didn’t want to seduce the poor girl!

  Yet even from across the room…

  Lena felt Lenore. She felt unquenchable passion growing for the lonely beauty looking back at her.

  “Lenore… Oh my God… I think… I… I feel like…”

  Lenore’s eyes pleaded with Lena, begging her to embrace the inevitability of a shared love. She prayed in desperation she had not made herself vulnerable to no good end.

  “Oh shit! I can’t believe this is happening, Lenore!” Lena shot upright in her bed and crossed her legs. She clapped her hands to her mouth and rocked back and forth. “SHIT, Lenore! What’s happening here? I mean… REALLY, Lenore! What the hell is happening to us?”

  Looking down at her body, Lena felt a warming flood race throughout her chest and limbs. “Am I…? Holy shit! Am I…?”

  A hopeful smile filled Lenore’s face. She nodded.

  Pointing her finger at the supermodel, Lena shouted. “GOD DAMN YOU, LENORE DE LA FUENTE!”

  Lena sprang from her bed, bounded across the room, and landed spread-eagle on Lenore, blanketing the roommate with her body. She shoved her arms around Lenore’s shoulders and hugged her from the back.