Why?

I thought she was hot.

I mean, come on. Even before I went to West Hollywood for the first time, I’d already heard about Shane. Who hadn’t heard about her? Any girl who liked girls and lived in Hollywood knew about her. She was… is… like a total legend in that part of town.

I was so new and so clueless – and nervous. I stood at the bar forever, trying to decide whether I should stay or go. I’d never been in a gay bar before and I had absolutely no idea what to do. Forget going up to anybody — I was this far away from running to the bathroom and locking myself in there until everyone else had gone home.

That’s when I felt a hand settle on my shoulder. Just for a few seconds, just long enough so that I could feel it, so that I would know it was there… then the tickly sensation of someone running their fingers down along the back of my arm.

I was already so nervous, I was surprised I didn’t go through the roof right there, but … the touch was so light, so gentle… that when I turned around and saw that it was her, I didn’t even feel nervous, anymore. Seeing Shane McCutcheon standing there, smiling at me, I should have been, like, a thousand times more nervous than I’d been when I came in, but … the way she looked at me, it was like … it was almost like she knew. Like she’d been reading my mind and knew just what to do to make me feel better, to get me to stop worrying and wondering and acting like a nervous freak.

"Hi," she said, moving her hand away from my arm, fingers curling in the center of her chest, lazy and loose. Her voice was deep, so much deeper than I’d imagined it would be, and soft. It gave me goosebumps. "I’m Shane."

"Yeah, I know," I said. Don’t ask me why I said it. I still can’t figure out why. "I mean — hi! Hi, how are you? I’m Lisa." I sounded like such a spaz, but she wasn’t offended or anything… instead, she laughed. But somehow, I knew – she wasn’t laughing at me. That she’d never laugh at me.