Amy 24: She Can Really Move free porn video

Amy 24: She Can Really Move Copyright 2014 by Amy Komori The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2014 Amy Komori. All rights reserved. Chapter One: We'll Trampoline I felt kind of nervous after my two day self-imposed vacation. Yeah, I'd meant to just ditch one day but I didn't feel much more like dealing with things the next day so I had my mom call in sick for me again. "I don't mind you doing this once in a while, Amy," she told me. "We all need a break sometimes. Just don't make a habit of it, okay?" I nodded. I was lying on the sofa and she was heading out to work. Also, I realized that was her none-too-subtle way of telling me I had to go back to school the next day no matter what. Which I did. And I had a lot to face up to at the moment. While on the plus side I'd come out safely on the other end of a stupid mistake with Patrick, my life was in danger in so many ways that really bothersome, tangled things just when I wanted to be shedding complexities the way we would our clothes in Gina's pool. I wanted a clean, light summer and to me, that meant leaving my sophomore year without injury or potential scarring. That didn't seem likely at this point. There were too few days left before finals and way too many dooms hanging over my head. Heidi and her friends were bound to murder me at their convenience. I was still crazy in love with my friend Gina. Dallas and I barely spoke that first day back. She said hi at lunch, but she was sitting on the other side of Michelle so we couldn't talk easily anyways. But when I did try to act relatively normal towards her as we went back to class in a big group, she snubbed me. "How are the trash can celebrities turning out?" I asked. She gave me this enigmatic little smile and just shook her head no and walked away. "Why?" Sarah asked. I looked at my favorite redhead. "Why what?" "Why did she do that?" Well, it wasn't like I could tell Sarah all about how Dallas had fucking masturbated me on my own sofa. Or at least, she had started to. I had trouble enough wrapping my own head around that. For one thing, I'd always assumed I'd be the one making the moves if I ever hooked up with someone, but there I was, trembling under another person's touch and really getting into it. That had a major effect on how I saw myself sexually. But mainly it really freaked me out Dallas was enough into me she'd even offered the whole "no strings attached" thing. She'd even used that phrase. It made me feel bad. I didn't want that kind of hold over her. So I decided I wasn't going to sit with her in art anymore. I was still going to see her there every day until school was out, though. It wasn't going to be easy but there weren't so many days left. And it was time for art, so I said bye to Sarah and everyone and trotted up the steps. Dall was already at our table. I don't know if she expected me to take my usual seat, but I didn't even look at her or acknowledge her existence as I plopped my ass down at one of the large tables with five kids I barely knew. Three guys and two other girls. They were cool in their way and welcomed me even if they were a little confused why I'd suddenly take a seat with them after spending most of the semester with Dallas. Dallas was left sitting by herself at our little table, which I kind of missed. It felt like leaving home. But one really cool thing that happened that day to distract everyone from the new seating arrangement was two of the guys had American Government together apparently and the part about the electoral college really damaged their brains. They couldn't get over that we didn't directly elect our president. And they ended up having this huge argument over it that almost turned into an actual physical fight. The odd guy out and we girls were just kind of blinking and laughing uncomfortably while they went at it and then Mr. Tanner stepped in and sent them to the office. "I thought they were going to hit each other," this girl whispered to me. "I know," I told her, nodding my head. Then she told me what she'd really been afraid of was one of them trying to hit the other and accidentally hitting her. She had this thing about getting her nose broken. A phobia, I guess. She'd watched that old Brady Bunch episode where Marcia gets hit in the nose with a football and instead of kitsch, to her it had been a mini horror movie. She laughed while she told me all this. I finally chanced a glance over at Dallas sitting alone, all in black, channeling Winona Ryder's Beetlejuice character as usual. She was resting her head on her hand and drawing with an intensity that was way more frightening than crappy syndicated sitcoms. While I was enjoying being this new person's confidante and all, it also made me feel this void or gulf between Dallas and me. I wanted to hear more of the crazy shit her brother Kyle was up to at the university where he stirred the pot as much as possible. I kind of wanted her to use her hand on me again, and that made me feel a flush of excitement and then a big wave of shame. "Are you okay?" the girl asked suddenly. "Huh?" "Your face kind of went all red." "I was just... I mean, I kinda have the same thing about noses." "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to freak you out or anything!" I laughed in this hopefully comforting way that was totally fake but necessary. "Nah, it's okay. Let's just not talk about noses or government." "Deal." When the bell rang, I grabbed my shit and took off as quickly as possible so I wouldn't have the slightest chance of making eye contact with Dallas or brushing up against her going out the door. What made that day bearable, at least, was Dallas evidently hadn't made a big deal about any of it to Michelle, so my relationship with her was still normal. I was really grateful to Dallas for that. Life at Delacroix High was stinky enough with people talking shit about you behind your back and having to deal with well-meaning authority figures like Ms. Green and Mr. Tanner. If you didn't have friends, you'd go crazy. Even Dallas had a friend. And that friend was also one of my best friends, a person I depended on to inspire me to acting like hot shit and a little toughy whenever I felt my most vulnerable and frightened. Also, she was my inline skating partner in a world of wood pushers. Who were almost all boys. I totally fucking needed Michelle by my side not only at school but at the skatepark. She was necessary. Sarah was necessary, Gina was necessary, my big sis Emily was mandatory. So was Michelle. This was how I was learning to be an Amy. Michelle, all five foot nothing of her, was standing by my locker when I came downstairs. Actually, I wasn't even sure she'd made five feet. At least she meant I wasn't the shortest girl in our group. Seeing her made me happy. Oh fuck, yeah. "Hey, Stupid," she said when she saw me. Her brown face, my sister- face, my evil twin, lit up. Black hair, black eyes, high cheeks, pearlescent teeth. "What's up, Fuckface?" I asked. I dialed my locker combination and clanked it open. I had to get out my AP English books. "Rumor around town says you might be heading down to the skatepark," Michelle said. "Might." "Fuck, dude, you have to. After school?" "How are we getting there?" "My mom will drive us." "Pick me up at my house, then." "No. You roll to my house." "No fucking way!" I said a bit louder than I meant to. "You pick me--" "Miss Komori," an adult voice said. "May I speak to you for a moment?" "Oh shit," I whispered. "I have to go be a kid now." "We'll come get you at four thirty. Be standing outside." Michelle vanished and I had to turn around and talk to Ms. Lattimore, one of the school's science teachers. I had to talk to her about acceptable language and unacceptable language and also indoor voices and outdoor voices. It would have been well within Ms. Lattimore's authority to send me to the office where I'd have another similar talk with the dean of girl students or even the vice-principal of the entire high school, but she let me off with a "Just watch your mouth. Loose lips sink Amys." "Thanks, Ms. Lattimore," I said sunnily. "I'll keep that in mind." "You do that," she told me, and then she was off chasing a boy with his shirt tail out. My eyes narrowed. I was late for AP English. Chapter Two: Finally Through the Roof The skatepark was packed. Boys, boys and more boys. If you liked skater boys, that was the place to be. If you weren't the least bit interested in them, which was how I felt, it was still the place to be if you had inline skates. Or a skateboard, I guess, since that's really what it had been made for. Michelle and I were regulars there and most of the guys treated us like we were just two more boys, which suited us fine. They tolerated our weird inline skates even though we were supposed to be natural enemies. Michelle and I had earned this respect day by day and it had been really difficult. "Ayumi," one of the guys said to me and I had to give him a fist bump. A new guy was staring daggers at us. Michelle and I looked like a matching pair in black tanks and huge black pants, Dickies Girl. I had on a grommet belt and she had this triple tier triangle hardware belt. We had on our elbow pads and knee pads already and we were carrying our skates and helmets. "What are you gawking at, fuck-knocker?" Michelle jeered before I could say anything. The guy just shrugged. "Locals only, bitch," I told him. "Leave him alone, Ayumi," someone said. "He's Brian's cousin." "Who the fuck is Brian?" I asked Michelle and she shook her head and shrugged. The new guy dropped in on his skateboard while Michelle and I sat to chat and put on our skates. There was no sign of Patrick, just the other regulars, lots of familiar faces. I remembered who Brian was. He was this freckly red-headed dude who was known as a pretty good skater. He was cool. We'd maybe talked like three times in two years, but as far as I could remember, he'd never said anything rude or stupid to me. He must have been a bigger deal around the place than I'd realized. So I guessed his cousin was okay after all. "Your hair's growing out," Michelle said. She rubbed my head as if to prove it. It was true. It had been about a month or so since I'd had my head buzzed and my hair was no longer short black bristles but getting to be more of a pixie cut. It wasn't exactly comb-able length yet, and I couldn't put clips or barrettes in it at the moment, but maybe by the next school year. My little ears were still on full display and now I had two more piercings. Those had happened just recently. Two holes in each lobe, two tiny hoops and two studs which would be hoops as soon as I could save up to buy them. And my next project was getting another piercing up top in one of my ears. I just hadn't decided which. Michelle, on the other hand, still hadn't pierced her ears even though she'd talked about it a lot since I had mine done. Now, however, she had another concern. "Are we rolling today or just shooting the breeze?" "I was gonna roll, but I'm afraid I'm going to roll right into your big mouth," I said. I had my skates on so I stood up and made my way over to the group of dudes standing waiting for their turns. Brian's cousin came up over the edge of the coping and grabbed his deck. "This is pretty fuckin' rad," he told the guys. He gave me a quick look from feet to chest, then just kind of lost interest in me. Fine by me. I turned to one of the other guys I kind of knew and all casually like asked, "Where's Patrick today?" The guy looked kind of surprised. "He moved, dude." I gaped. For some reason, that sentence had made perfect sense and yet no sense at all. Moved? What? I just stood there slack-jawed staring at this guy and his nonsense. I felt my heart down around my Salomons. There was some concern someone might kick it or step on it before I could get it back into my chest. "He moved?" I asked all stupid like. "Since when?" "Since a few weeks ago." "Wh... Where to?" "San Diego." Oh my fucking god, it was like being slapped by a giant hand. Patrick was gone. Without even saying goodbye. Suddenly, Dallas became very tiny in my soul, almost to the point of non-existence. "Drop in or fuck off, Ayumi," someone said. I was crying like a baby when I dropped in but by the time I hit the other side, I was furious, too. Furious at me for crying like that, furious at Patrick for leaving without even saying goodbye. Half blinded by tears, I pushed myself even harder than usual. I started getting air on both sides of the vert, going higher and higher but not doing any spins or anything. Then one time I came back up and grabbed my boot for a fishbrain, almost fell going down, didn't do anything until I was back up in front of the guys. This time I started to do a 360, but I had enough momentum to turn it into a 540. I came very close to crashing hard as I landed it and just about that moment I started to scare myself. On the backside this time, I got really massive air and when I came back up in front of everyone, I went for the flatspin, which I hadn't done in a long time because it was really hard and after landing it the first time, I'd been really inconsistent and was getting tired of all the bone shattering falls and spills I took. But now, as scared of myself as I was, snot running out of my nose to match the water spilling from my eyes and in desperate need of a serious pee squat, I went up, lined up my body perfectly somehow (maybe because my brain shut off from sheer terror and therefore couldn't interfere anymore), grabbed a knee and a boot and threw myself into the rotation. Holy fucking god, time slowed and my heart stopped and everything was just this big bright blur as I spun and then there was this loud clatter but it was my skates landing on the vert in almost exactly the position they needed to be in and I was safely through it and rolling up the other side. I crossed my boots and did a porn star while everyone on the other side screamed like an atonal chorus competition. When I came up the other side and popped over the coping and grabbed the rail to stop, I was crying worse than ever and shaking all over. Sweat was pouring off me, dripping from my face in great silver droplets. I could feel it in my ass crack, too. I was slick with it all over. People were pounding me on the back, splashing my salty spray everywhere and saying all kinds of crazy shit but it was like I'd lost the ability to understand English. Or they were speaking alien. Then Michelle was grabbing me and telling everyone to leave me alone and she led me off by the shoulders while I bawled. I had my head down and my shoulders hunched, too, so no one would see me but of course they could hear me. "H-he fuckin' moved and he didn't... he didn't even say goodbye!" I kept saying over and over. "Who? Who?" Michelle asked like an owl. "Patrick! That motherfu... that motherfucker... He didn't even say goodbye!" Michelle led me around the corner where we could hide behind some bushes. We could still hear the guys skating and shouting guy shit at each other, but mostly what we heard was me babbling and blowing snot while I cried, bent over with my hands on my knees. "God, Amy," Michelle was saying now. "Let it out, dude. Let it out." I was through screaming and all that, but not finished with the tears. Michelle buried me in a sisterly hug and I'm pretty sure I snotted up the front of her tank. And soaked her with my gross sweat. She didn't seem to care. My world just turned into this warm embrace of a friend, which was like the best possible thing that could have happened at that moment. She even patted and rubbed my back from time to time. Little by little, just being held by her calmed me down. I sniffled up a lot of mucus and wriggled free from the hug so I could wipe my eyes on my own tank. "That asshole," I said softly when I was calm enough to think. "I can't believe he'd just move without even telling me." "I know," Michelle agreed. "Oh fuck, I just made a complete girl out of myself," I said. "Don't sweat it. It happens to everyone. Even Patrick." I laughed despite myself. It was true. He'd been the one bawling last time someone cried on the vert. "That was the most fuckin' badass crying jag the world's ever known," Michelle said. "I thought you were going to kill yourself." "I wanted to." "No way. Don't even say that shit." "God, I can't go back over there. Not after all that..." "Yes, you can. Fuck those guys." I rubbed one swollen, tender eye with a finger and grinned from shame and embarrassment. "No, I'm serious. I don't want to deal with those guys anymore today. I feel so stupid." "Okay, we'll go." "You hugged me!" "You needed it!" I had to laugh. Michelle was confused. "Dude, it wasn't that funny." I shook my head. "No, I'm not laughing about hugging." Michelle still looked like an idiot. I rolled my eyes and sighed. Then I told her, "I cried in front of Brian's cousin!" We laughed so hard my pee feeling came back and we ended up skating as fast as we could and almost breaking our necks down to this hamburger place a couple of blocks away where I just barely made the ladies' room and got my pants down in time. Michelle said I looked so relieved when I came out of the bathroom she thought that was hilarious, too. Chapter Three: Even I'll Adore You But I was really upset with Patrick. First of all, his moving made me sad. Sadder than I had even thought possible. Second of all, I was angry with him for not telling me. He hadn't even hinted that it might happen. I mean, yeah, we were kind of on friendship probation, but this as far as I was concerned violated the terms of our agreement. Also of our overall friendship. It was a major lapse in etiquette on his part. That night, while doing homework, it started itching at me so much, I dialed his phone number. Of course, I got a message telling me it was no longer in service. Fuck, I thought, miserably. He really is gone. The next morning at school I just kind of dragged my body in there without much enthusiasm. Much less than usual, even. Michelle was cool and hadn't told anyone about my embarrassment at the skatepark, but word around school among the people who were even remotely into skating was I'd really ripped it up. That I'd done so blowing tears and snot because I was upset about stupid Patrick wasn't part of the story, luckily enough. A couple of guys I kind of knew by sight but not by name asked me what tricks I'd done and I couldn't really remember at first until they prompted me. Then I told them in list fashion and kind of ended up strutting it up until lunchtime. The Patrick Problem was still there in my tummy, making me lose my appetite for our standard Delacroix fare, and after the recent water balloon debacle, we weren't about to risk leaving campus again. At least not before next year. We chatted it up at our usual table, except for Dallas who stayed nicely silent enough I could almost but not quite forget she was still sitting with us. But then this weird thing happened as I was taking my tray to the window where we dumped them for washing and re-use. Ashleigh Bodine, of all people, totally body checked me. Her foot came down on mine and her shoulder plowed into me broadside. It didn't hurt or anything, but it was almost like one of those t-bone car accidents at an intersection. "Watch what you're doing, Komugly," she said, looking back over her shoulder as she walked on. Tara and Heather joined her. I stared at her for a little while and she stared back as they walked. Then I turned and Sarah was right by my side, with her red curly hair and puppy dog presence. "What was that?" she asked, very, very concerned. "I don't know," I told her. Then something popped into my head and I had to say it. "Maybe she thought I was Brian's cousin." Sarah kind of gaped at me as if I'd fallen and broken my brain. But coming up next to her Michelle was smirking. She knew what I was talking about. "What about Brian's cousin?" Sarah asked, all innocence and care. "Nothing," I said. I tried to say it reassuringly and not dismissively. The last thing I needed was Sarah running around with hurt feelings. Frowning, I put my tray down at the window. But I'd lied to her. I did know why Ashleigh Bodine had bumped me. Storm clouds gathering. I was getting the idea some real trouble was brewing. I'd have to be extra careful the rest of the day. Also, while I was sitting with my new friends in art and snubbing Dallas (and she was snubbing me), I slowly became concerned I wasn't going to survive until summer. Chapter Four: Oh Velveteen! Things didn't get appreciably worse, but they didn't get better. I mean, for the next few days no one physically attacked me or anything like that. It still felt as though that option remained in play, but apparently Komugly was the nickname du jour. So we're not spreading rumors anymore, we're just regressing to kindergarten name calling, I thought glumly. The name didn't hurt. I just thought it was stupid. What burned me about the situation was finding myself in the most lame-ass episode of some kind of shitty TV show or something. Popular, which Gina and I derided as the stupidest thing ever put on the air but Sarah, Lena and even Michelle were obsessed with for a short time right after it debuted. I didn't know if they still were. They didn't try to tell me about it, but I'd watched it a couple of times with Sarah so I knew enough to know what was happening would have made a particularly dumb episode of that show. "This shit is getting serious," Gina said in a low voice after someone yelled "Fuck you, Komugly!" at us in the parking lot after school while we were waiting for her mom. "Seriously stupid," I said. "So," Gina said, "What are you gonna do about it?" I shook my head. "Nothing. I'm opting out of this war. I'm moving to fucking Canada, dude." Gina looked surprised. "No way! You're just gonna let them walk all over you?" "Look, they waterbombed us, we egged them. The way I see it, with my snowball to the nose, so if the worse they can do is call me a dumb name like a bunch of five year olds, then I'm actually ahead. So what I'm gonna do is declare victory." "And move to Canada." "No. It's just..." I felt suddenly really weary. I didn't want to argue with Gina and have her talk me into committing suicide by Fleegleman. All the energy just kind of drained out of me. "I don't want to talk about it." "Well, I do." I kind of rolled my head on my neck in this exasperated way. I even let out a moan to emphasize it. Even though I was secretly buzzed just being near Gina alone for a change, and getting to spend the afternoon with her without any plans for revenge or unwanted tagalongs, she was really getting on my nerves and I didn't have the strength to keep it up. "You've been really glum lately," Gina said after she got tired of my silence. I shrugged. Even my bookbag felt too heavy. It was a huge relief when her mom drove up and we got into her car. Gina took the passenger seat up front and I just collapsed into the back. I unslung my bookbag and dropped it onto the floor. Gina's mom asked, "Amy? Are you okay, baby?" "I'm just tired. Thanks for asking," I told her. It was actually really nice just lying there, feeling the car vibrate. I studied the back of Gina's head. That short brown hair. From the back she looked kind of like a guy. That thought made me smile. She didn't have any freckles on the back of her neck either, just this really fine, downy hair. It was white, almost whiter than white. These little strands that caught silver light, and trailed down into the back of her t-shirt collar. Where they became even smaller and finer and lighter, I was sure. But the rest of her would be so smooth and soft to touch. She had girl muscles, too. Lulled by the gentle movement of the car and the intermittent flashes of sunlight through the trees we were passing under, I let my mind drift back to my sofa and what Dallas had been doing. Imagine Gina doing that, I told myself, even though I really knew I shouldn't. Not in the back seat of her car with her and her mom present. But I couldn't help myself. Girl muscles. I wonder if she's stronger than I am, I thought. I'm pretty sure she is. My tummy kind of fluttered at that thought, and I realized the strangest thing. Around everyone in public, I was like super bossy and in charge. Even though inwardly I had the same doubts and uncertainties as anyone, around people like Gina and Michelle I had to be loud and proud. But with Dallas, I was going to be the receiver. And even though I'd always kind of assumed I would be the one doing the giving, and everyone else probably thought as much since I was perceived largely as this tomboyish boy-girl person with the skating and pants wearing and all... Maybe what I wanted was to give myself over to someone like Gina. Someone stronger. Someone who would be on top and let me be vulnerable and even weak if I wanted. I could be as strong as I liked but in private, with the right person, I could give myself totally to someone and let her be in charge of me for a change. I had these flashes of like Heidi, Gina and even Dallas doing things to me. Not all at the same time, of course. Like separately. Each time, I was playing what we thought of as the girl role, being fucked instead of doing the fucking or whatever. Having someone go to town all over my body and me just letting them have their way. Relinquishing control, not having to protect myself at all, even just for a while in a bed or something. Fuck. I understood then what I liked and what I was about when it came to being with women, and it was so good to realize it and admit it to myself. And that it was totally okay. I could be both ways, and there was nothing wrong with either of them. It was natural for me. Weirdly enough, I actually had Dallas to thank for it. My heart was thumping away from the realization of that when we finally got to Gina's. I quickly pulled myself together. I felt kind of refreshed in a way, for the first time in forever totally at home in my skin. But also a little dirty. Wow, if we ever fucking knew what other people were thinking, I told myself and I smiled at my own little secret joke as we got out of the car. "There's that happy Amy we all love," Gina's mom said, totally unaware. That just made my smile grow wider. "Put your bag inside and let's go to the garage," Gina said. "I love when you take charge," I told Gina with complete honesty, and much to my joy, she took it as one of my smart ass remarks. "Fuck you," she said, because her mom was already back in her own bedroom changing out of her work clothes. "I wish," I said, and again, Gina didn't have a clue. Score two for Amy, I thought. We went out to the garage where it was hot as hell and Gina pounded away on her drums like a madwoman while I thumped on the bass. It felt good. I still couldn't play for shit. Gina was hitting the drums so loudly and we were being so chaotic, it didn't matter. "Let's record something," Gina said, and she went back into the house to get this little tape recorder she had and also to bring us some cold Pepsis in the can. We drank while Gina went through all these cassettes she had. She had a million of them, like mix tapes and dubs she'd made of various people's CDs. As much as she loved music, she hated paying for it. She wasn't computer literate enough to download. Some people we knew were making this big noise about Napster or whatever, but Sarah and I were still buying CDs. "I don't have a..." Gina was saying, mostly talking to herself while I took sips from my Pepsi to keep the coldness and carbonation from burning my throat. "Oh, here we go." She'd found a scratch tape and popped it in, then got back behind her drums. "You start it," she told me. "Start what?" I asked, setting down my Pepsi. "The tape," Gina said. "Press 'record.'" I looked at the machine. None of the buttons said "record." I looked back at Gina. "The one with the red square!" she barked. "Well, I didn't know!" I yelled back. "Don't fucking yell at me!" "Don't yell at me!" "Okay, I pressed the red square!" "Dumbass! We're recording yelling at each other!" That got us to giggling. We played it back and all it had caught was me saying how I'd pressed the red square and then Gina's baffled/angry response, and part of our laughter, and this loud clicking and banging as I fumbled with every button trying to turn it off. Gina had to get up and rewind, and then we made up the silliest, most idiotic and noisiest, least tuneful songs anyone could have ever imagined. It couldn't have been less musical if we'd just recorded cars crashing into brick walls or something. It actually sounded a lot like exactly that, only with bass plunking and me singing random sentences that popped into my head and bits of lyrics from whatever song we accidentally sounded like for a few bars. "We have to play this for Lena," I said, giggling so hard I was almost about to pee in my pants as we gave it a listen. Gina was laughing so hard she was crying and her freckled face was turning from red to purple. She looked like someone having a major heart attack and she grabbed her side to stop the hitching pain she was no doubt feeling. "Lena would hate this." "That's why we have to play it for her," I said. "Oh my god, dude, you only rent Pepsi." "Go inside," Gina said. The air conditioner blast that hit me when I opened the door to go to the bathroom was like instant bliss. Making music is better than fucking, I told myself. And it was true. I mean, at least within my limited experience with the latter. Which I planned to change as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Not with Heidi, though. Not with Gina, even. And definitely not with Dallas. I washed my hands. I washed my face. I ran my fingers through my short, black hair and smiled at myself in the mirror. My narrow black eyes narrowed more. You're not so Komugly, I told myself. Some lucky girl will want you one of these days, and you're going to surrender to her. At least part of the time, I added. Anyways, Lena did hate it. At our next Silly Monkey practice, Gina and I played it for her but she only made it about two minutes into it before snapping, "Oh my fucking god, turn that off!" "What?" I protested, half-jokingly. I pretended to hesitate about turning off our little masterpiece. Or really hesitated. Either way, it amounted to the same thing. "Off! Off!" Lena begged. "Oh my god, turn that off, please!" I laughed and stopped the tape. "So this is what you weirdos get up to when I'm not around" Lena asked, looking from the smug, superior to Gina behind her drums with arms crossed, triceps bulging in a subtle yet noticeable way that was totally alluring, sticks in her hands back to me, dressed all in black again, except for the colorful beaded bracelets I wore overloaded on both wrists and my giant toy digital watch that was a playful lime green. Oh, and my puka shell necklace along with this friendship necklace Sarah had given me at lunch that day with a Shinto good luck charm dangling from it I'd added out of my jewelry box before my mom drove me over to Gina's. The more the better, I thought. I was feeling kind of girly that day for whatever reason, but I chose to express it that way and stick to my usual androgynous skater wear. My expression was more mirthful, I supposed. "Let's play a real song," Gina said. "God, yes," Lena sighed in relief. She and Sarah had been working on something together in their spare time, too, which wasn't a whole lot since Ms. McAvoy went study-happy on us in the aftermath of our recent trouble at the school. Sarah had a single verse and a chorus finished to this kind of mid-tempo song with a cheerful feel. Like all major chords, and pretty easy even for me to play along to after Lena helped me find the right notes. "I wish I could dress it up more," I said after we played through it a couple of times with only minor mistakes. "Don't sweat it," Lena said, which was surprisingly reassuring on her part. "It sounds fine, what you're playing now." "She's... she's getting better," Sarah said, nodding for emphasis. She looked at me with this kind of smile that said how much she wanted to make me feel better. It worked. Sarah always could bring out the inner joy in me just by being sweet Sarah. Of course, Lena couldn't bring herself to agree. On the other hand, she didn't want to shatter my confidence completely, either. So she did the Lena thing and said nothing more about it, just that we needed to run through our set without stopping. All six songs of it. And in the process, I felt myself shedding my Gina crush. Now I found myself dropping notes, missed changes, felt myself gazing at Gina, watching her as if she were driving away in her mom's car. I still felt the yearning, but it didn't sting with desperation, it kind of ached with losing, with drifting. Lena and I yelled at each other, apologized, Gina made fun of us. Chapter Five: We Will Wade in the Tides of the Summer The last day of school came. Finals were over the day before, two days of two-hour periods recapitulating everything we'd learned over the course of the semester. The final day was for cleaning up, doing last minute paperwork for the summer schoolers and picking up our year books or annuals. We got those in homeroom, then had to go to our regular classes where we'd find out some of our grades for spring semester and mostly just clean up our messes and sign our friends' yearbooks. We were all allowed to wear shorts, which were usually against the dress code. I was still vaguely bummed I couldn't do much with my hair. While I liked looking like a boy, I made a firm decision to grow it out again. I wasn't about to get another Natalie Portman bob (or Louise Brooks, as Dallas had insisted), but I was going to let it get thick and see what happened. Not down to my shoulders, I decided. My hair was way too heavy and thick for daring that unless I built up my neck muscles or something. As far as accessories and clothes went that day, I wore two beaded chokers and my friendship necklace to make up for it. My puka shell necklace was on a much needed vacation. Not so my power beads, which my beloved sis Emily had given me and remained proudly around my wrist. A red muscle tee and some short khaki cargo pocket shorts and my Vans with Sarah's name on them completed my "here comes summer" ensemble. On my way out of my bedroom that morning, I'd caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror next to my door. I looked kind of leggy, which was a different look for me. Outside the gym, on the concrete walk to the main building, I met Sarah. "Good morning, Miss McAvoy," I said. Sarah grinned. She wore a tee and a long drawstring skirt and sandals. Her skirt swished around her legs bewitchingly and with her red hair gleaming an almost bright orange in the sunlight, she got lots of looks she never noticed. I found myself longing to borrow that skirt sometime, but on me it would have just gotten tangled underneath my feet for being way too long. "I'm so happy," Sarah said. She was still grinning, her lips glossed and her teeth so white and glistening she could have been a Delia's model. "Why?" I asked. "It's just the last day of school." "We made it," she said. Her grin broadened. I had to admit I felt pretty happy despite everything that had happened recently. Walking beside my best friend, basking in her joy. I found myself kind of bouncing along. We hooked up with our little group, minus Lena who was doing something with the school band that morning and had been up since before daylight I supposed. Gina came in a ringer tee and shorts, with a bucket hat she discarded pretty quickly that morning because people took to it about the same as they had the knit cap I'd made the mistake of wearing and set off our most recent crisis. Michelle was dressed in her usual skater wear, a tee with some stupid fake girl's softball team logo on the front when we all knew she didn't play softball except at PE and when she did, she was hopeless at it, and baggy camo pants. My erstwhile sofa-masturbation partner Dallas was once again in buzzkill black. I mean, I wore black a lot, too, but at least I?d take a break from my usual looks to take advantage of some rare authority-figure generosity. Anyways, I felt pretty comfortable physically for a change. ?I knew she fucking had legs,? Gina said. I blushed a little and looked down at myself. Yep, she was right. I had legs. The bell rang and we split up for our homerooms. Our yearbooks stood in stacks on the teacher?s desk. She called our names and we went up and got them, then went back to our desks chattering away. A few of us started signing right after the morning announcements, which mostly consisted of telling us to go to our regular periods and then after lunch we?d be cleaning out our lockers and free to head home if we wanted, unless we had school business. Which I didn?t, so I planned to jet as soon as possible and hit the skatepark with Michelle. There was my name in gold lettering on the fake leather grained front cover that was the ugliest design we?d gotten so far. Okay, since it was only my second yearbook, I didn?t have a lot of others to compare it to. The ones I?d gotten as Martin weren?t even present in my memory anymore. I tried to remember what my photos in them had looked like, but all I saw was a black and white generic boy. He could have been anybody. I flipped to the sophomore section and found my photo. There I was, with my stupid bangs and pointy bob. I looked at myself like a little alien. I tried to remember what I?d been thinking that day. That was way back at the end of last summer, the start of last fall. So much had happened since then. I decided I had probably been thinking about skating. Or Emily. Or Mom. Or Sarah. Or Gina. Gina. Gina, Gina, Gina. She?d noticed my legs. I was so proud of myself for shaving them that morning. Letting her go was going to be harder than I thought. A guy looking over my shoulder laughed and said, ?You look like Buttercup.? ?Shut up,? I told him. ?Sign my annual?? he asked. ?No,? I said in a toneless voice. He went away defeated. I signed everyone?s books but his, and I collected a lot of signatures and cartoons inside the front cover of mine, too. A lot of people wrote really nice things and despite myself I felt this buttery warmth, as if someone were baking delicious buns in my heart. People included their phone numbers and email addresses and stuff like that and asked me to hang out with them over the summer. I was feeling the love and it really surprised me and put me in this mega good mood for a change. I even started having second thoughts about signing that one guy?s book, but the bell rang so I just thought, ?Fuck it.? First period was more of the same, and that?s where Sarah and I signed each other?s books. She wrote a really long letter in mine from the inside front cover corner diagonally downward taking up almost half the page. It took her most of the period to write it, so I didn?t get as many signatures and messages as I could have, but hers meant the most to me. It was about how much I meant to her and how I made her world a better place. She even mentioned that I was her first real friend, and that meant the world to me. I grinned like a fool and almost cried as I read it. I?d written a much shorter message in hers, but no less heartfelt. I had to let her know exactly how much she meant to me, how much I depended on her and how much I wanted to always be there for her and shower her with love. When she read it, her face changed colors, all these different shades or versions of pinks and reds under her freckles. Her eyes went glossy and a big clear drop fell on the page and blotted my signature, causing Sarah to smear the ink as she tried to dry it. What I?d written seemed really inadequate compared to hers, even though it had been completely gushy, too. I owed her so much. I especially owed her the truth. ?Sarah,? I whispered. ?Yeah?? she whispered back. ?Sometime today? I kinda want to tell you something.? ?What do you want to tell me?? ?I can?t tell you in class.? ?It?s important, isn?t it?? I thought for a moment. ?I don?t know. Maybe. Maybe it isn?t.? Sarah nodded. We made plans to ditch everyone at lunch and find a private spot where I could bear my soul to her. The first moment of agreement made me feel less burdened, but then the burden came back and I felt uncertain and like I was about to make serious mistake. But I had to go through with it. On the way out of class, I almost ran into Heidi Fleegleman, who was leading a big bunch of her friends, guys and girls, jocks and cheerleaders and whatnot. They were all juniors and seniors and towered over both Sarah and me both, although Sarah was closer to their altitude. They were all developed and next to them I felt reduced to a child. I also felt a squeezing in my chest and a major flow of fight- or-flight juice. Things got kind of herky-jerky, but escape was impossible as giant people closed in on all sides. ?Amy!? Heidi said cheerfully. ?Just the person I was looking for.? ?I have to get to my next class,? I said, kind of lamely. ?No, wait,? Heidi told me. ?I know we?ve had our? you know? differences and all. But I just want you to know I?m not holding any grudges or anything. And I?d really like to sign your yearbook.? I narrowed my eyes at the people surrounding us and searched their faces for any signs of mean tricks or sneak attacks. Ashleigh Bodine, Heidi?s righthand girl, wore the appropriate look of contempt for me, and my face matched it when we locked eyes. I could almost hear her saying, ?Komugly.? Her smile was more of a sneer, and it marred her face, which was actually kind of pretty. After all that, I couldn?t see any reason why I should let Heidi Fleegleman set pen to my yearbook. If nothing else, whatever insult she wrote would be interesting. ?Okay,? I said and I handed my yearbook to her and she kind of juggled it with hers, and then pressed her yearbook into my hands. ?And you sign mine, okay?? she asked and I detected almost a pleading tone. What the fuck was going on? I watched her scribbling away and cracked open her book to find a likely place to sign it. Sarah handed me a pen without my even asking her and tried to think of something to write. What do you write in the yearbook of someone who had caused you so much pain and worry? Someone you both hated and wanted to be fucked by? You write: Heidi! We don?t always get along but I think you?re one of the smartest girls in our school. Anyways, I really hope you have a fun summer. Next year, you?re going to be a senior and that will be your last year of school. So I hope it?s a good one. Take care, Amy When Heidi read it she gave me a smile I couldn?t interpret as fake or sincere, and she handed me my yearbook. Her message, carefully inscribed in a handwriting as beautiful as everything she did including throw me down and pound me into the mud, read: Dear Amy, You are a unique person. I hope you never change. We?ll probably never be friends, but all the same here?s hoping you have a wonderful summer. Keep in touch, Heidi ?Wow,? I told her. ?Thanks.? She and her group started to walk away. Their shadows fell off my body and space opened up in the hallway. The people who had been hoping for a fight walked off with shoulders hunched in disappointment. As she passed, Ashleigh Bodine reached out and smacked my yearbook out of my hands with her own, making this loud slapping sound. My yearbook hit the floor on one corner, denting it. ?You are such a fucking bitch,? I told her in this normal tone of voice, not shouting. For some reason, it didn?t even come out angrily, just matter of factly. It was true. Ashleigh Bodine was a total fucking bitch. ?Amy Komori,? I heard someone say and turned. Ms. Lattimore, my old friend of all people, had heard me. But as she swept by towards the main office, all she said was, ?I saw what she did. But watch the language.? I bent down to pick up my yearbook and watched Ms. Lattimore catch up to Ashleigh Bodine and have a short discussion with her that left one of my least favorite people in the world looking kind of glum. Apparently, something passed between them that led to Ashleigh Bodine?s yearbook not being as fully signed as some of her peers. And while that was going on, Sarah was asking, ?What was that all about?? ?Ashleigh Bodine being Ashleigh Bodine, what else?? was my short answer. ?No,? Sarah insisted, her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. ?Heidi.? I shrugged. I genuinely didn?t know. Some new tactic or a set-up for something to come, I assumed. The next year, Heidi would be a senior and basically leader of all of us. She?d already achieved some things no junior at Delacroix High had ever accomplished. Among the teachers who adored her and mentored her, she was becoming a legend. She was the idol of most of the girls and most desired girlfriend for almost all the guys who liked girls, even among the goth kids and the Greenday fans and whatnot, even if they would only admit as much in secret to their own best friends or inner circles. Fuck, I hated her guts and even I loved her. Truth be told, there were times when I even wanted to be her. Except for the one thing that she kept secret. But if she could learn to deal with her own desires, she would have everything her way, even more so than usual. And if not, she?d have things mostly her way and it would amount to the same thing. Everyone would assume she was this perfect person. Maybe, I thought, if she could realize that what was inside her wasn?t wrong but totally right, she really had a chance at becoming as close to perfect as a human being could get in this world. She really would become as golden as everyone thought she was. I couldn?t let myself off the hook over the way I had dealt with it, either. Her secret was my secret, too, but I had plans for one-upping her there and putting some distance between us. For now, I could accept her yearbook overture as maybe not a peace offering, but at least a cease-fire for the summer. And I was lucky, especially since our social circles didn?t cross at all, I wouldn?t see her before September. That was fine by me. It was fine by her, too, I was sure. Chapter Six: Say To Me After our next period, which we had together, it was lunchtime, so I took Sarah by the hand and led her through all the kids and teachers. When we reached the cafeteria doors, she pulled against me a little because she thought we were going in there to eat. And we were, but not before I accomplished something. I tugged against her and we went out through these double metal doors with the narrow windows in them, the kind with the crosshatched safety wires, and we were out in the little grassy area where people chilled whenever they had lunch minutes left before the afternoon bell, or did homework. ?I?m starving,? Sarah complained. Then she remembered I had something to tell her and she covered her mouth with her free hand and said, ?Oh? that?s right?? We went over to the brick wall and my heart was jumping and bumping. I could practically hear it through my skull bone, and it felt like blood was being forced up into my brain like mercury in a thermometer, ready to pop the top the way it did in a cartoon when someone had a major fever. I jumped right in, not daring to look at Sarah. She kept bobbing her head to try and force eye contact, but I turned away. I didn?t want her to see my face. ?Okay, what I want to tell you is?? I started, then paused for a second when the words kind of jammed up in my throat. ?You?re my best friend and I should have told you first. But remember when I told you I liked Patrick?? ?Yeah?? ?That wasn?t true.? ?What do you mean?? ?I mean I was lying to cover up for something I didn?t know how to deal with at the time. I don?t think I do now, either, but I don?t like lying to you so I?m going to tell you why I did that.? ?Why?? ?Okay. I did that because I liked someone else. I still do. I?m kind of falling out of like with her, but I?? ?Her?? ?Gina.? Now I had to look at Sarah. Actually, I had to because she grabbed my face and turned it towards hers. Her green eyes, large all the time naturally, were even wider than usual and her mouth was hanging open. Her lips moved like she was trying to form words. Oh fuck, this is worse than I ever imagined it being, I thought. Actually, when I first decided to come to my friends, Sarah first, and stop living a lie, I imagined Sarah like squealing and talking about that movie But I?m a Cheerleader, or even The Incredibly True Adventures of Two Girls in Love, both of which she?d watched more than once and gushed about to all of the rest of us. She really liked movies like those, even though she herself was into guys and was still involved in a relationship with one. And furthermore, I imagined her asking me all these questions and telling me how much she supported me and how brave I was. Instead, what she said when she was able to speak was a distinctly un- Sarah-like, ?Why did you do that to Patrick?? I knew why, but it just didn?t come to mind when asked about it in a straightforward way by the queen of the long-way-round, the one girl who put everyone?s feelings ahead of her own consistently and almost frighteningly. And especially my feelings, which she seemed to treasure almost as much as I did, if not more. I just kind of stammered. She was spoiling my big moment. ?I just? I just did, okay?? was how I managed to get back on track, as stupid as it sounded even to my ears. ?I was like really, really scared.? Now she nodded. Fear she understood. But she still added, her voice turning quavery and more typical of the way she dealt with bad things related to me, and with her eyes getting kind of shiny, ?You shouldn?t have used him like that, though.? ?I know. He and I worked it out, though, and everything?s cool.? She sniffed and nodded and a tear ran down one of her freckly cheeks. She quickly wiped it away. I smiled and almost laughed. ?This is not how I pictured this moment.? When I turned my head to look away, Sarah grabbed my face again and made me look at her. She looked distressed, though. I took her hands in mine so we could both be holding my face prisoner and I didn?t feel quite so controlled by her. I mean, since I was supposed to be the boss of our friendship and all. My voice sounded squashed because our hands together were mashing my cheek and jaw muscles. So when I said, ?I like girls, Sarah. Specifically, Gina, but theoretically any girl who catches my fancy? like a cartoon character, we both started giggling and Sarah released my face from her fairy princess handed clutches. ?Oh my god,? Sarah said. ?You?re gay!? She said it kind of loud, and I wasn?t sure if anyone could hear her. There weren?t so many kids around and none of them were paying any attention to us as far as I knew. But I didn?t try to shush her. I didn?t want to announce my lesbianism over the school PA system, but I wasn?t going to be hiding it anymore, either. That was the whole point. Start with Sarah, then Michelle, Gina and Dallas, Lena at some point and then stop telling people and just start being who I was. ?Yes,? I told her. ?I am a gay girl.? ?When did you first realize it?? ?Probably the first time I thought about being with someone and that someone turned out to be Gina. I just didn?t let myself admit it even inside until about the time Patrick was crying at the skatepark.? That last part wasn?t exactly true, chronologically speaking, but it felt right to link those events. Somehow it made me feel more badass. ?Wow. Gina? Well, I can see that, to be honest. But she likes guys. I know there?s this one guy she likes.? ?Oh?? That was news to me, and even though I was in the falling out of love with Gina phase of our non-relationship, I still had feelings for her and finding this out caused a sharp, sudden pain in my heart and a sick, empty feeling in my stomach. The pain went away immediately, but my stomach still felt empty. And maybe I needed to hear that this way, while telling Sarah the truth about myself. It helped me get over Gina. ?Yeah. You didn?t know? But you guys hang out all the time and-- I?m sorry. This is about you.? ?No, I didn?t know. But yeah, Gina. I just totally fell for her. I?m getting over it now, and it would be like the nicest thing in the world if you didn?t tell her I ever felt anything for her more than like being friends.? ?I won?t tell her. Do you want to tell her about the whole gay thing?? ?Gay thing?? Sarah reddened and threatened to break into a tear squall again. ?I?m sorry,? she said in this quick little voice. ?Was that rude? I don?t want to? I didn?t mean to?? ?No, it?s cool. I?m still really new at this myself. I don?t know what you can say or not say or what I?m supposed to feel other than just liking girls.? Sarah nodded. ?Probably just liking girls is enough.? ?I kind of think so, too, but I guess we?ll find out as we grow up and I get more gay.? ?Can you get more gay? Is that even po?? ?I mean, as I find out more how I feel about things. Learning or whatever.? ?Are you going to tell everyone?? ?The school, you mean?? ?Yeah.? ?No. I?m just telling you guys and then if other people know it, that?s cool. Whatever.? ?Dallas is bi.? ?I was aware of that. But I, on the other hand, am just gay.? ?Oh.? ?Dallas likes me.? ?I kinda knew that.? ?You did? Did she tell you?? ?Not in words. It was obvious.? ?That was obvious, but my thing with Gina wasn?t?? ?No, because I thought you liked Patrick. But now that I think about it, there were some times when I kinda wondered.? ?You?re making that up.? ?No, I?m not. I wondered a few times. Do you like Dallas?? ?Oh fuck, no.? ?Is that why you guys aren?t talking?? ?Yes.? ?Does your mom know? Emily?? ?Check, and check. They?re on Team Gay Amy.? Sarah told me she was happy I?d told her, but mostly she was happy I was being honest with myself. We went back into the cafeteria because we had about thirty minutes of lunch left, got in line, got our trays filled with vegetable soup and peanut butter sandwiches, collected a couple of apple juice drink boxes and made our way over to the table where all our friends were sitting. Even Lena this time. She was telling everyone about joining the marching band and how busy she?d be the next year, but we?d still have Silly Monkey and maybe we could get some shows or something. When she finished, I said, ?Okay, I have an announcement to make.? And then I told my friends I was a lesbian. Even Dallas smiled for once, but she put a hand over her mouth. She was wearing fingerless knit gloves. It was summer and she was wearing fucking fingerless knit gloves. ?You?re not going to start listening to the Indigo Girls, are you?? was Michelle?s only comment. Chapter Seven: My Velouria We went our separate ways after that. I had to finish cleaning out my locker. Throwing out old notebooks after tearing out notes my friends had written to me in them and stupid jokes and comments. Those I carefully folded and put into my book bag to put in this sentimental box I had on the top shelf in my closet now. It was filling up with photos and movie and show ticket stubs, birthday cards and even letters Sarah sometimes wrote me in colored ink on real stationery. Some other crap from my locker included corners of papers like from tests and things, for some reason. A bass pick, which I put in my cargo pocket because it was cargo. A hair clip shaped like a butterfly with a chip in its wing which made me sad to look at. That went in the garbage pile I was making. A few people came up and asked me to sign there yearbooks while I was doing that, but I was feeling emotionally drained from my big lunchtime revelation. Also, I was aching to get out to the skatepark. When I had collected everything and the locker was empty and forlorn and free from memories, I found an overflowing garbage can and threw all my trash into it as hard as I could. ?Die, you motherfuckers!? I said, but very softly, checking around me for teachers first. Then I ran away from it as fast as my feet would carry me, because Michelle and I still had to ride the stupid bus and walk to her house, where I planned to change into something more skaterly, and we both had to get our helmets, armor and skates. Her brother was going to give us a ride to the park, but we weren?t one hundred percent convinced he?d show up. He had a job and a group of guys he liked to hang out with. Luckily, everything went smoothly. It was fun hanging out with Michelle on the bus. Even though it quickly gave me motion sickness and I felt like I was going to barf, we compared our yearbooks and the stupid quotes and things people had written. ?I can?t believe Heidi signed yours,? Michelle said more than once. Each time, she?d cackle with gleeful Michelle laughter. ?I knew there was some shit going on between you guys last year. You were fuckin? warm for her form.? ?You?re making me want to vomit more than the bus, even,? I replied. ?You wanted a piece of that shit, dude,? Michelle said. ?Fuck you,? I said, grinning in spite of myself. ?You?re such a guy.? ?I used to be one,? Michelle told me. I shook my head. ?It?s true,? she said in this sing-song voice she sometimes used to say that particular phrase. ?I was a boy when I was little.? While I knew such things were within the realm of possibility, since I could truthfully make that statement myself, I also knew good and well she was just talking shit. For one thing, she?d joked about that before. For another, we?d all seen her baby pictures and even this one when she was two and her mom made her wear a dress and she looked like she wanted to kill the entire planet?s worth of humans. She?d never been able to live that photo down. I could have brought it up and shut her up, but I was in too good a mood. ?I used to have a dick,? Michelle continued. I started losing my cool. My laughter was becoming convulsive. She held her hands apart, palms facing each other, then widened the gap between them. ?It was like three feet long.? Now I was laughing at the point of not being able to breathe and not being able to make a sound as I asphyxiated. ?I had a shlong that was three feet long,? Michelle said proudly. ?Shut up!? I gasped. I couldn?t really talk and even saying that much just about killed me. ?Little quiet back there,? the bus driver said without looking over her big, broad shoulder. ?You kids can talk, just hold it down. Driving here.? ?See?? I hissed. Michelle smirked proudly. She was happy to have wrecked me so completely. I was even kind of rubber-kneed and wobbly when we got off the bus and I kept breaking out into giggles, which just made Michelle feel even more like a toughie. A stupid little comedian. I quickly regained my land legs as we walked to her place. Her brother actually came through for us. I heard him come in and start talking loudly with Michelle while I was changing. I tucked my shorts into my bookbag, which was empty of school books for a change. That gave me a delicious sense of freedom and I shivered with happiness. Summer! No more Heidi, no more Ms. Green or Mr. Tanner or any of the stupid teachers and students. Oh fuck, and I was out to my friends. I didn?t have to pretend to like guys anymore. I didn?t have to pretend anything to anyone. I grabbed my head with my hands and started bouncing up and down, silently shrieking down in my throat, this huge smile on my face. That?s when the door to Michelle?s room burst open and she was standing there. ?What the fuck?? she said, her black eyes wide. I stopped in mid-bounce and settled back on my feet. ?You don?t knock in this house?? ?It?s my room!? ?I was in here changing. Your brother could have been like right there!? ?What were you doing, you freak?? ?I don?t know what I was doing. I was happy. I was like really happy until you blasted in here.? ?I?m just glad you weren?t bare-assed naked. I?d have torn my eyeballs out.? We gathered our skate stuff and went out to the living room where Michelle?s brother was sprawled on the sofa talking to someone on his cellphone. When he saw us he told whoever it was he had to go and snapped the phone shut. ?You kids ready?? he asked. Tony Cho. He looked a lot like Michelle, actually. They had the same basic nose and lips. Only Tony was like this scaled-up dude version with muscles he showed off with a tight tee. Tony was actually one of the coolest dudes I had ever met. He went to the university and he had a full-time job which was a mystery to me, but he seemed to spend a lot of his time whenever I saw him talking on that cellphone. And he always had the latest one. ?Who were you talking to, dickface?? Michelle asked him. ?Your pimp. You?re working tonight, fuck-knocker,? he said without a pause. ?My girlfriend. Who do you think?? ?Oh. Her.? Michelle made this limp-wristed pose with her tongue hanging out. ?Let?s go. I?ve got stuff to do. I?ll be glad when you learn to drive, you worthless little fucker.? ?God,? I said. ?You guys are like a thousand times worse than me and Emily.? ?I prayed for a little brother. I got this stupid girl instead and she ruined my life.? ?Improved it, you mean,? Michelle said and she tried to punch him in the arm, but he knew all her tricks and pulled back and goosed her instead, making her scream, ?God, you asshole! That hurt!? ?Let?s go!? Tony said, totally ignoring her as she rubbed her arm and looked at me with this wry expression. She tilted her head and mouthed, ?He?s gay, too, you know. He sucks dicks for money.? Stifling a laugh because my side hurt from what Michelle had done to me, and really glad she?d come off the worst against her brother because it made things feel more balanced, I hefted my skater bag and we went out to the car. They kept up a string of insults in the car, broken by more matter-of- fact discussions of family matters. He wanted Michelle to mow the grass instead of him because he was going to the beach with his girlfriend and some others, she negotiated twenty bucks to do it, which was like an enormous fortune for her. And me as well, come to think of it. Tony asked us about the last day of school and if anything interesting had happened, which we both answered in the negative. He seemed satisfied with that and about that time we reached the skatepark. ?How?re you ladies getting home?? Tony asked before he left. ?We?re hitching a ride with a serial killer,? I told him. ?That?s good. See you in the newspaper, then.? ?Yeah, we have one all picked out. He?s pretty cool. He?s not a cannibal or anything.? ?Okay, don?t get eaten, then. See ya, Amy. Mow the grass, fuck- knocker.