Laura went to her and sank to her knees beside her. She put her head in Beth’s lap, clutching at her, and said hoarsely, “I want you to love me, Beth, that’s all. I want you to love me. Say that’s selfish, say it’s anything you want to call it, I can’t help it. I love you more than life or death and I can’t stand to think of losing you. I can’t stand it, Beth, do you hear me? Oh, Beth, Beth, my darling, say you love me. Say that, and I don’t care what happens. I don’t care what else you say or what you do or even what we are. I don’t care, if you’ll only just tell me you love me…. Beth? You do love me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Laura.”
“Say it.”
“I love you, Laur.”
Laura shut her eyes and didn’t see the suffering in Beth’s. There was nothing more they could say to each other then. And there was nothing more they could do. Emily would be back from lunch at any moment and both of them realized how dangerous it would be to continue as they were. They silently started tidying up the room.
Emily found her roommates in a state of apparent calm. Laura was collecting a pile of books and getting ready to leave.
“Where’re you going, Laur?” said Emily conversationally.
“Over to the library.” Laura wouldn’t look at her. She was furious with Emily.
“I’ll be down in Mary Lou’s room, Emmy. We have that Comparative Lit. final tomorrow,” Beth said, starting out of the room. “If anyone calls, I’ll be down there.” She looked cautiously at Laura, but Laura seemed unperturbed.
“Okay,” said Emily. “Hey, when are you going out?” She knew instantly, from the look on Beth’s face, that Beth hadn’t told Laura about her date. Emmy bit her tongue too late.
“I—don’t know,” Beth said, and she and Laura looked at each other. “He said he’d call. About five, I think.”
Laura stood perfectly still with a book in her hands and stared at Beth. Emmy made the diplomatic move; the coming storm raised enough charge to frighten her out of the room.
“Guess I’ll go see Bobbie,” she said hastily, and backed out. She pulled the door shut behind her and walked down the hall in bewilderment. She didn’t go to see Bobbie, she went to the living room and sat down in an alcoved corner and began, in spite of herself, to analyze the situation. She could put two and two together, but she could not believe in four until she saw it with her own eyes. It was the most difficult logic she ever faced: it was simple, irrefutable, and incredible—a lover’s quarrel. Emmy gave an involuntary shudder.
Laura didn’t say anything for a few moments after Emmy left. She sat down at the desk and stared out the window, speechless. Beth came up behind her, afraid to touch her, and stood behind her chair for a moment. Finally she said, “I meant to tell you, Laur. I just couldn’t, after we got to talking. I can’t bear to hurt you. Everything I say, everything I do, hurts you. It was cowardly, I know; I’ll admit it. God knows I can’t bear pain. And when I hurt you, I suffer too. I suffer terribly.”
No sound, no gesture, came from Laura. Beth went around and sat on the desk and looked at her. “Laura, honey, you said—you said it didn’t matter. You said nothing mattered as long as we had each other. You said you didn’t care, as long as I loved you.”
“Do you love me, Beth?”
“You know I do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I do, Laura.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me? Why do you lie to me, Beth?”
“Oh, darling—I’m afraid the truth hurts, sometimes. I didn’t really lie to you, Laur, I just—tried to shield you.”
“You should have told me, Beth. You never tell me anything. I have to guess, and if I ask the right questions, maybe I get the right answers. Otherwise I never learn anything. Not telling the truth is as wrong as telling lies, Beth. You knew all the time this morning you were going out with him this afternoon. It’s yourself you’re trying to shield.”
Beth sighed. “I’m going out with him this evening, Laur. Because there’s no way to explain to him why I won’t go out.”
“All right, Beth. Why didn’t you just tell me that? I’d rather be hurt honestly than dishonestly.”
“Oh, Laura, don’t you understand—”
“I understand that I’m being treated like an irresponsible child,” Laura exclaimed. “I’m being shielded from nothing, Beth. It’s yourself you’re trying to protect.”
“Can’t you believe I’d do something—anything—for you? Laura, if I’ve lied, and I have, it’s been for your sake. Can’t you understand that? My God, I’ve had to lie to Charlie for you and to Emmy, and—” And even to myself, she finished silently.
“And me.”
“No, Laur.”
Laura nodded at her. “Yes, Beth. Yes. Beth, I’ve been honest with you—absolutely honest—but you’ve got to be the same with me. I know I’m young. I know I’m inexperienced and childish sometimes. But you can’t help me to grow up by treating me like a child; by shooing me out while you share your secrets with somebody else.”
“Laura, I’m not sharing them with anyone else,” she said, and her voice was tired.
“You haven’t any right to deceive me, Beth,” said Laura unhappily.
Beth’s sorrows suddenly swelled and split inside and her. “God damn it, Laura!” she exploded. “Damn it, damn it, damn it! I’ve done nothing that I didn’t do for your sake, nothing!” She stood up and strode to the other side of the room, and whirled to face Laura. “Will you never understand that? I’ve made mistakes, I know. I’ve hurt you, I know that, too. But do you have to harp on it? Do you have to cavil and pester and torment me,
