It was Early September 1961. Gabrielle was an oddity on the NYU campus. Female. British. Pretty. And not a musician?
A boy with long sandy blonde hair and striking gray eyes had been watching her through out all of Political History 101. Gabrielle was trying to ignore him, but alas, how she did like staring at the pretty men. And oh, how pretty they were. What was in the water over here? Not only were American boys cute, tall, and for the most part smart, *none* of them minded that she wasn’t interested in a relationship. They seemed to think it a bit odd but none the less didn’t mind.
The blonde bloke behind her poked her in the shoulder with his pen. Gabrielle ignored him and readjusted her long pink scarf. She heard him lean forward and he tapped her on the shoulder. She brushed his fingers away idly. He leaned forward and rested his chin on her shoulder. “What’s your name?”
A grin bubbled up on her face and she tried with all her might to wipe it off. “Gabrielle Gallagher” she said with out looking at him.
“I’m Eric” he said calmly
“Hullo Eric” she said and turned to look at him. Oh lovely boy. God must be a woman.
“You’re English” he noted
“I am” she turned away from him and scribbled some more notes on Communism.
“Can I have your telephone number?” Eric asked
“Hmm” she sighed “Maybe”
“Please” he leaned forward again,
“All right”
***
“What do you mean” Gabrielle demanded of Montana. They sat in a well known folk club just outside of Washington Square. Montana had a friend playing their tonight, Trixie Blake. Trixie was quite good with the guitar as she strummed and lilted on the makeshift stage.
Montana shrugged at Gabrielle “Nothing” she explained “Just that you seem to be gallivanting around with a bunch of men lately”
“What’s wrong with that?” Gabrielle asked, she sipped her oversized mug of coffee “I know I’m weird, but I get along with lads a bit better then girls sometimes”
“Um” Montana shook her finger and laughed “I’m not talking about being friends with guys. I’m talking about sleeping with a *lot* of guys”
Gabrielle blinked “So what. I’ve been careful. And you do it too”
Montana giggled “You really didn’t strike me as the sort of girl who-“
“Likes sex?”
“Well… I guess. I was going to say sleeps around”
“Bah, you think I’m a whore”
Montana laughed and put her head on the table. “Ah,” she sighed “And yet the word Gabrielle Gallagher and whore seem to different”
“Because” Gabrielle nodded “I’m not a whore”
“No. I guess not. You’re just sexually… free”
They giggled for a bit. The introduction of the Birth Control pill had made everyone’s lives so much easier. Well… at least it was easier to find yourself in a compromising position and not have any excuse to back out of it now.
“Thanks” Trixie said as she finished a song “This next one is an ballad from Scotland. It’s called ‘Like a Feather’”
She started singing and strumming.
“Hey” Montana elbowed her “D’you know what I found out the other day”
“What” Gabrielle leaned forward, listening intently.
Montana leaned forward too “I was in the dark room and I heard this upperclassmen talking. Apparently the new scene is out in San Francisco. The beat culture is supposed to be really wild out there. Anyway one of the kids was talking about speed right and you know how you take it?”
“How?”
“In your arm” Montana laughed “Like when you go to the doctors and they use a needle. They give it to you that way, and it’s supposed to be the fastest way to get a high”
“Wow” Gabrielle blinked “Sticking a needle in your arm? That sounds a bit… you know heavy”
Montana shrugged “What’s heavy. I was just wondering, you know. If we ever came across some would you try it with me”
Gabrielle nodded slowly, not really sure what she was saying yes to “Sure”
“Great” Montana fished around in the pocket of her white men’s work shirt and came up with a packet of cigarettes. She lit one up. “Oh,” she said around the fag “You wanted me to remind you to call your friends back home because you still haven’t done it yet”
Gabrielle’s head snapped around “Oh my god” she gasped “That’s right. I haven’t. Oh, how could I be so dumb”
“Don’t be daft” Montana waved her off and then sighed “I just said Daft. Oh fuck. Anyway, the point is, they won’t mind. You’ve been busy and our phones are fucked up. Cynthia probably let them all know you weren't dead and a bit busy. Especially since school started”
Gabrielle nodded.
“Thank you” Trixie said, Montana and Gabrielle cheered for her. Being the only ones cheering and whistling the looked a but silly but kept on with it until Trixie blushed and came over to them.
“Hi Montana” she said “Can I bum a ciggie?”
“Sure” they exchanged fags and how are you’s
“Have we met?” Trixie asked Gabrielle. She tucked her short blonde hair behind her ear and smiled perkily.
“No, I don’t think so” Gabriele extended her hand “I’m Gabrielle”
“Hi, I’m Trixie Blake”
“Nice to meet you”
“Pull up a chair Trix” Montana invited her. “So, how have things been”
Trixie sat down and took a sip of one of the open alcohol bottles on their table. Legally, 19 years old is underage drinking in America. Montana was 21 though, so Gabrielle got by pretty well.
“Terrible” Trixie moaned “My folks finally kicked me out last Saturday after they found that cannabis I was keeping for Mike in my sock drawer” Everyone cringed “Mom was livid. So I’ve been sleeping on park benches in the square”
“Hey!” Montana gestured wildly with her fag “Why don’t you come live with us. Could she Gabby?”
“Of course” Gabrielle nodded “If you’ve got no place else. Why don’t you stay at my place?”
“Oh really?” Trixie asked, wide eyed “Is it big enough?”
Gabrielle and Montana giggled madly for a bit with each other “Er... yeah. It is”
