Amy 26: All Hands On The Bad Amy free porn video

Amy 26: All Hands on the Bad Amy 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: You're No Rock n'Roll Fun Lena was not cool with the chunk I'd knocked out of her bass. In fact, she was so not cool with it she jumped me over it and immediately got in my face and started yelling. Then she told me I'd lost my bass privileges. The whole time I was standing there wearing the stupid thing. And I got mad at Lena in turn. It wasn't that she was wrong. It was the way she was saying it. It was making me feel worse about it than I already did and that was activating some kind of defensive mode. And it definitely didn't help that Tamara was watching, too. Tall, gorgeous Tamara. Fucking awesome Tamara. Who I was rapidly falling for in a hardcore way. She towered over me the way my surrogate sister, Emily, did. Long, lanky, wild hair, coffee-with-cream skin, a smile like a movie theater marquee. Part Vietnamese, part Black, all amazing. She was so cool; she'd lived all over the world and had done adventuresome things that had me dying from a terminal case of mega jealousy. Yeah, it had to be in front of Tamara. I gave Tamara a quick glance, my face quickly warming from my growing anger at Lena, at the way she was speaking to me, even though she had every right to be pissed and I didn't. Tamara looked distinctly uncomfortable. She squirmed on her stool and didn't seem to know who to look at, or where, or even if she should be looking in the first place. And so something came over me. Like a dark cloud inside me, obscuring whatever inner sun I possessed. I mean, assuming I even had something like that in the first place. "Okay, fuck this bass," I said, turning my full attention to Lena when her lecture ended. I spoke very slowly and deliberately and didn't even raise my voice. "And fuck the band. And especially fuck you." Lena went quiet and kind of pale. I hefted the bass strap over my head and put the bass down in its stand and said only for Sarah's benefit, "I'm out." "Are you... are you leaving?" Sarah asked me as I bounced past her towards the garage door. My plan was she would come with me without my having to ask her or, worse case scenario, have to plead with her to quit the band with me. Sarah reached out and touched my arm but I didn't stop. "What is your deal, Amy?" Gina demanded from behind the drums. This time I did stop. I whirled around to give Gina my meanest look, eyes narrow, nose crinkled. And this time I raised my voice. I raised it more than a little. I practically bellowed, "MY DEAL IS FUCK YOU, TOO, ASSHOLE!" It echoed. Gina scowled, her face darkening. She looked ready to bite a bear on the ass and spit out the fur. "You're the one being an asshole. You're being an ungrateful little brat. Lena didn't have to let you use her bass." "I am not!" That Gina hadn't matched my volume made me turn it down a notch. "I mean... I know I fucked up the bass, but I'm not being a brat. I don't like being yelled at." "Queen Amy doesn't like being yelled at. For someone who doesn't like being yelled at, you sure do a lot of yelling at people." I stared at Gina with narrow-eyed intensity. I was a skinny, little Japanese American girl, light as a bird and probably almost as strong, but I could look pretty scary. At least, I hoped I did. Gina glared back at me. We had a phrase for moments like this, stolen from the old Ren and Stimpy cartoons: whizzin' on the electric fence. When someone deliberately set out to ruin something, they're whizzin' on the electric fence. That's what we were doing and we couldn't seem to stop ourselves. "Maybe we should just quit for the day," Lena said. She was crouching in front of the bass, surveying the damage. She'd already unplugged and put her guitar away. "Yeah," Sarah agreed. "Well, I want to know what you mean by losing my bass privileges," I said to Lena. "I mean, you'd better find your own bass." "Oh. I thought you meant I was out of the band." "No. I thought you quit." I frowned. She asked me, "Do you really want to quit?" "No," I said, then I let out a long gust of breath and crossed my arms across my chest. I didn't want to look at any of them. All the fight had drained out of me and now I just felt more than a little foolish. I wasn't going to back down. There was just this matter of getting myself out of the corner I had painted myself into without leaving tracks or looking even dumber than I probably did already in front of Tamara. "Okay, you have to buy your own bass." "You can't order me to buy a bass, Lena. I'm not your employee." "Look, I could give a shit if you steal one. You're not using mine is all I'm saying and if you want to keep playing with us, you're going to have to get a bass. Somehow." "Okay, I will." "She hasn't even apologized for wrecking that one," Gina said. Now I did look. Right at Gina's face. In fact, I goggled at her. Mouth open, even. It was like she wanted to fight. Attitude and energy returned and took up the slack in my jaw and lower lip. "I didn't wreck it, motherfucker. I just knocked a hole in it. It still plays." "I'm sure it does," Lena said. "But not by you." "Maybe I will quit." "Suit yourself." "I think this is like my perfect time to leave," Tamara said. "Past time, really." She got up and told Lena thanks for inviting her and how our songs sounded great. Which was a lie, but Lena thanked her back and did her best to talk calmly to our honored guest while shaking all over from the adrenaline boost our band fight had given her. I took a deep breath and walked out of the garage without swinging my arms, my muscles clinched and my hands in fists before Tamara could get clear. Behind me, Gina started drumming again, really pounding them. All that pent-up aggression, I guessed. I figured I was pretty lucky she wasn't pounding on me. Gina had firm arms from drumming and was probably pretty strong. This was really annoying. It had been a shitty first day of school. Actually, the school section had been fine. I'd met Tam, had a freak out, blew super fizzy soda through my nose and all that but that was like normal life stuff. Easily handled, put away. The part that should have been fine, that should have been dessert, sort of soured it. Like getting melted ice cream or stale cake. Band fights, friend fights. Whizzin' on the electric fence with Gina. Well, we had to do this every so often, I supposed. We'd grumble and pout and not talk to each other and then we'd make up at some point. I hoped. I hoped that's all it was, just a rancid strawberry on the cheesecake that was our friendship. It really sucked that I'd damaged Lena's bass, though. I had a lot of guilt for that. "Wait!" It was a little red-haired bird chirping from behind me. And when Sarah caught me before I got out of the yard next door, I felt at least I'd won a little something. "Are you upset about Gina?" Sarah asked, as we walked home together. "Gina and Lena. I feel like total shit about the bass, too." "I think... I think they'll get over it." "Fuck them." "You don't mean that." "Maybe." "You don't." Then she asked me what I thought about Tamara. My back went all prickly and I said, "Huh? Tamara? Tamara's cool." I both wanted to and did not want to talk about her. "Do you... like her?" Sarah asked. "Yeah, I..." I stopped. She didn't mean did I like Tamara as a person. She meant was I into Tamara. Because I was a girl who liked girls. I told her that it was true. I was really attracted to Tamara and had been since we met earlier that day. Sarah started to get all excited over the possibility of love at first sight, but I didn't let her. I told her not to think of it like that and definitely not to try to help things along. "Maybe she likes guys anyways," I added. Sarah shrugged. "Are you gonna get a bass?" "I kinda have to, right? I mean, Lena pretty much told me so." "That was rude of her." "She's probably right. I just don't like her being so bossy about things. I don't know, but more and more I'm really getting sick of people telling me what to do." "I know," Sarah said amiably. She always did what people told her to do. It was in her nature. But it wasn't in mine. Maybe it had been, but for whatever reason it was going away. I was starting to kind of struggle against it. Like a fish in a net. "Does your... does your magically musical boyfriend know anyone who wants to sell a bass cheap?" I asked Sarah. She shook her head no. "Great. It's not like I have tons of money stashed away for something like this. How much does a bass even cost anyways?" "I don't know." I nodded. "They're probably expensive as fuck, right?" Sarah said yes, they were probably expensive as fuck. Then we met an old woman walking a dog so we played with it for a little bit until everyone but Sarah was sick of the whole cutesy ordeal. While waiting for Sarah to finish petting the dog (she talked to it so much in this high-pitched voice it peed) and occasionally sniffing my own hands because they smelled just like the dog, I decided I'd check online once I got home, but I had a pretty good idea a bass was going to be a little on the expensive side. Maybe even a lot on the expensive side. I was fifteen and had no income. Therefore, my savings consisted of whatever I had left over from what my mom gave me every week. These savings consisted largely of coins, which I kept in an actual piggy bank. And yeah, asking Mom for the money even as a loan crossed my mind and then just kept on going into the distance. There was no way I was even going to ask her after all the extra expenses I?d been putting her through. She?d bought my inline skates which were really cool and much better than Michelle?s, but I?d screwed her on useless cheerleading shoes and a number of other things. Increasingly I found it better to express my gratitude at taking me in and helping me find a new life by keeping Mom out of the iffy parts of that new life. The way I saw it, the less bad stuff Mom heard about the happier we both would be. And that also included asking her for expensive things. Despite having a learner?s permit, a car was way out of the question. If I wanted one, I?d have to get a part time job and pay for it myself. Then I thought maybe I could get a part time job to pay for the bass. Suddenly excited and putting the band fight out of my mind I told Sarah. ?I think you have to be 16 to get a job, though,? Sarah said hesitantly and softly. Balloon pop. Chapter Two: #1 Must Have Back home, I ate supper with Mom. I was able to put the band drama bullshit out of my head for a bit because I had to tell her about all my new classes and how excited I was to be learning again. Mrs. Komori was more excited about school than I was. She wanted to know if I thought I?d make any new friends. ?I wouldn?t be surprised,? I said with a smile the source of which was my own little secret. Part of it was because of Tamara and the other part was because the way I?d acted that afternoon, I?d be lucky to keep the friends I had before. Mom wouldn?t have understood why that was so funny to me so I kept my secret. ?That?s good,? Mom said. She was one of the sweetest people I'd ever met. She'd taken me in during my transformation into a girl, and ever since, had done nothing but support me. Even the time I got busted for stealing porno mags. I may not have popped out of her, but she was mom to me in all the ways that mattered and I was so lucky to have her. And there I was, thinking of ways to convince her she needed to buy me a bass. I felt a little bad about that so I offered to do the dishes. ?No,? Mom said. ?You?d better get on your homework.? Oh hell yeah, I thought. First I do a little bass research and then I?d do my first day?s homework. Doing homework would give me an excuse to lie on my back and stare at the ceiling and think about punching Lena and Gina in their smug faces. Basses proved to be pretty pricey, especially the ones I wanted. I didn?t want some shitty knock-off brand or something that looked stupid. I wanted what Kim Deal had. I didn?t know what they were at first so I read a little about her until I found out the ones I liked the most were the Stingray and the Fender Precision. They just had this cool look. Well, the Stingray was more than a thousand dollars. Might as well ask for a car. The Precision had a price range that was like all over the map, but some of them were maybe possible. You know, if I sold all my blood or something. Leaning towards the Precision but still not sure how I was going to pull this off, I started in on my homework. It took me less than an hour to do my homework even with my daydream revenge breaks, some of which turned into magical fairytales revolving around either Tamara or getting some bass money. I made up my mind to eat shit in front of Lena and Gina and promise to buy a bass and be good and all that and then I felt a little better. Afterwards, I slipped into my pajamas and watched a little TV in the living room with Mom. Yeah, everything's gonna be cool, I thought. Dammit, you'd think I'd get tired of being wrong. The first thing that happened the next morning after Mom dropped me off for school was I found myself walking up on Ashleigh Bodine, Tara and some her friends. The usual cheerleader and popular kid crowd. Girls and guys. Some of the girls I?d even kind of been friends with during my brief stint as a Blue Devil cheerleader a couple of years back. Ashleigh acted as if she was going to walk past me, then slapped my books out of my hands. I didn't try to pick them up. I didn't want to show my vulnerable ass, because then it would've been dog-pile on the skater girl. Not that any of Ashleigh?s friends were dogs. They were all quite pretty, even the boys. Outwardly. "You need to watch where you're going," Ashleigh said, with tons of snotty attitude. I laughed. Maybe a little too nervously and self-consciously, but I kind of felt like I was going to be mobbed by an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog or a Gap TV commercial. I half expected them to start swing dancing or something, like take a swing at me. I could almost feel this hypothetical punch in the eye, or the nose, and I was actually getting all adrenalized, all "fight or flight," but I could function better against Ashleigh and her hate than I could against Tamara and my gushy, mushy love. "You're going to pay for that little stunt you pulled," Tara told me. Just as Ashleigh belonged to Heidi, Tara was becoming Ashleigh Bodine's right-hand girl. Plus, as I'd learned when I was stuck as a cheerleader on the j-v squad with her, Ashleigh Bodine herself incredibly racist. Except she couldn't tell Chinese from Japanese, which made it extra pathetic. The stunt, I assumed, referred to egging Heidi, Ashleigh and a bunch of girls (I think Tara caught the worst of it) at this girl named Beth?s pool way back in spring. Beth had graduated already and was off doing college stuff and had no doubt forgotten all about it. Not so those of us still at dear ol? Delacroix. We kept the past alive. "I'm sure I will," I replied. "But right now, I gotta get to homeroom." "What's the rush?" Ashleigh Bodine asked. "I thought you were this big 'skip class girl'. Why don't you hang with us for a while?" "Because I had a big breakfast and I didn?t bring any cud to chew," I said. Not my sharpest comeback, but I didn't feel so sharp. In fact, I was so scared, I felt like I was about to piss in my pants. And they were my favorites that week: big, baggy cords with a few little holes in them. I didn't want to fuck them up. "Pick up your books," Tara ordered. She got in close, fingered my shell necklace and put one hand on her hip. "And get to class, Yellow Peril. But just remember, we had to clean Beth?s pool thanks to you. You can be sure I won't forget." "Oh yeah? Well, remember to kiss every square inch of my-" I started, but before I could even finish my sentence, we all heard a voice call out, "Hey! Amy Komori!" Tamara to the rescue. Where the hell did she come from? She came walking out of nowhere like a hero in a Western. The pale autumn morning sun shone behind her head like a halo. Oh my god, she was beautiful. White button up shirt with rolled-up sleeves, hip hugging jeans that flared. And flip flops, on a cool morning like this. They slapped at her heels like playful puppies as she sauntered over. The others left, but almost all of them managed to walk over my textbooks and the scattered papers lying around them. Tamara helped me pick them up. By the time we'd gathered all my shit, and I'd accidentally caught a glance down the front of her shirt, my mouth had gone cottony, and I was breathing sort of funny. "Are you... are you okay?" Tamara asked as we made our way through the crowd of kids on the front walk. "Uh...yeah," I replied. I thought, Why wouldn't I be okay? I just escaped an ass-whipping, I've got this weird, warm feeling, and my heart feels like Gina's using it as a tom. I could feel my textbooks getting slick from my sweaty palms. I only hoped I wasn't gazing at Tamara all dreamily. I let my eyelids droop a bit, put on one of my sarcastic little Amy smiles. All cool, like the Arctic. Amy, the human Mentos candy, the Freshmaker. "What was that all about?" Tamara asked. "Those girls?" "My fan club," I told her, batting my eyelashes with mock modesty. "They wanted autographs. I mean, I just signed like 500 photos for them to sell." Tamara grinned, all gums and shining teeth. She knew I was full of shit. But what she said was, "Hey, how do I join this fan club?" "Talk to my secretary, Sarah," I replied. I grinned, I beamed, my cheeks turned all rosy. I felt like shooting myself. She walked me into the main lobby. That?s what it felt like. Like I was being escorted, like I was a princess and she was my bodyguard. Or something similarly stupid and humiliating should a psychic prove privy to my private thoughts. We stood together by the sports trophy case, the main stairwell. Science nerds discussed "Star Trek" against the wall under the directory. I could see some teachers as they milled about, and tried to fortify themselves for the day's coming boredom. They kind of shut up and stared when Tamara walked by. "Yeah," Tamara said. "I kinda thought they might be your harem." Oh god. That did it. I went all butterfly-giddy. To my absolute horror, the need to giggle started growing, and I started turning into a bubblehead. Was Tamara flirting? Not that it really mattered if she was, because all my friends and I pretend flirted with each other. It didn't mean a thing. I'd even kissed them all (including Patrick, who was gone for good now) on the cheeks. I tried to pick apart her little comment, rejected the notion, teased myself with it again. Was she giving me a clue she liked girls, too? Or was she just being like me, a smart-ass, not to be taken too seriously? I found myself in homeroom, just in time for the bell, no real idea how I'd gotten there, just glad my attack of silliness had ended. But the day was completely shot. Ruined. I couldn't keep a thought in my head. What I finally decided, though, was this: Tamara was trying to befriend me. And would it hurt to let her? I mean, I'd weathered all those feelings for Gina (who probably now hated me) for over a year. But I knew that wasn't a realistic option. My thing for Gina was like a kid?s crush. I'd found ways to work around it. But this Tamara shit? No way. This was the real thing. I remembered reading "The Godfather" novel when I was a guy, and one thing stuck with me. When Michael Corleone fled to Sicily, he'd met this hot Sicilian chick and had been hit by what one of the other characters called "the thunderbolt." And that's what had happened to me the day before. I just knew there was no fucking way I'd ever feel normal around Tamara. Maybe, I thought, this is my karmic punishment for shitting all over Patrick and Dallas. But in a way, it was gratifying. With Patrick, I?d never felt anything romantic at all as far as I knew. But with Dallas, I?d let her start something. That it had ended was kind of her own fault, but it bothered me I?d let it get started in the first place and just how willing I was to continue. One thing it made me afraid of was that I'd lost the capacity for love. This Tamara thing, as much as it scared me, made me realize, all other things aside, I was emotionally normal. A normal, lesbian, teenage, Japanese American aggressive skating girl. Somehow, I made it through the day. Sarah and I ate lunch by ourselves because I wasn?t ready to face Gina or Lena just at the moment and we made funny voices and had a great time. I was pretty sure Sarah was acting extra bright from this assumption she had to cheer me up, and of course that was one of the many lovable things about dear old Sarah McAvoy. Gina and I kind of locked eyes from across the cafeteria, and next to her sat Michelle Cho and Dallas. I gave her a little noncommittal smile, but she turned to Michelle and started talking. No big deal. I even managed to act with some semblance of normalcy around Tamara at my locker. Until just after last period, when she made some comment about me finally warming up to her that made my knees go rubbery. "I'm glad," she told me. "I mean, you seem so... I don't know. You're kind of unique. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable." "No," I squeaked. I ended up inviting Tamara to hang out downtown after Silly Monkey's practice. She smiled and said, "It's a date." I had to excuse myself to go pee. Chapter Three: Was It a Lie? Well, actually, I wasn?t even sure I should have been at the practice. Obviously I didn?t have a bass of my own and we hadn?t exactly parted the day before on the best of terms. Lunchtime hadn?t helped. But by the end of the school day I?d become totally determined to show up anyways and take whatever medicine Lena and Gina prescribed. No matter how painful. Being bold or whatever didn?t mean I wasn?t also totally scared. Full of trepidation and feeling really super stupid, I kind of timidly made my way across that neighbor?s yard and poked my head into the garage. Everyone was there except me. ?Hi,? Sarah said. Ten different emotions went across her face, half of them happiness, half of them fear. I stepped into the garage almost on tiptoes, trying to make myself as light as possible, as if my weight would set off a landmine or something. Gina just fixed me with a stare, but Lena kind of made this thoughtful face. ?Look,? I said before anyone could start bitching at me, ?I kinda made a big scene yesterday and I?m?? ?Step into my office, Amy,? Lena said, cutting me off. ?I?? Lena motioned with her head to meet her outside the garage. For a split second I thought she was asking me out there to fight, but then that didn?t seem likely. Well, whatever it was, I had to go to find out. Once I followed her out she led me around the side of the house to the backyard and we went all the way past the pool to the fence near the alley. I was starting to suspect at the very least I was about to be screamed at or something. But instead, Lena leaned up against the fence and said, ?We have a show.? ?Oh?? ?Yeah. We haven?t told Sarah yet, because we haven?t decided if we?re going to play it or not. It depends on you. Do you want to?? ?Fuck yeah.? ?Okay, now we can tell Sarah. I?m really serious about you getting a bass of your own you can smash or whatever the fuck with. But until you do, you can still use mine.? ?Okay. Thanks.? ?I oughta make you fucking beg. You acted like a little snot yesterday.? I wanted to tell her she did, too, but I thought better of it. I joined her leaning against the fence. That way I could look at Gina?s house instead of Lena?s face and I wouldn?t have to show her mine and if there was anything I needed to say that was truly important or something, I could say it in profile. ?Anyways,? Lena said, ?the show is the Saturday before Halloween.? ?Uh huh,? I said. ?October 20-whatever. It?s in the afternoon, it?s all ages and we?re not getting any money for it but it?s a show.? ?Okay, I?m in.? ?Good. Your job is to tell Sarah we?re doing it.? ?I have to tell Sarah?? ?Yeah. We just? we?re just worried. You know how she is.? ?She was fine at our last show.? ?That was what? A year ago?? I couldn?t do the math. Lena told me she and Gina had been talking and they felt I was the best choice to break the news to Sarah because she?d do anything I told her. If they told her, they were afraid she?d freak out. I told Lena I really didn?t think that was going to be an issue. Lena insisted I tell her and that was my payment for using her bass until I made other arrangements. I was like, well that?s small payment because Sarah will do it. Lena made this noise like she wasn?t convinced of that. ?Well, whatever, dude,? I said. ?I?m in and she?s in.? ?I hope so. Good luck.? I gave her the grimace of ?What the fuck are you talking about?? but I didn?t dare say that and damage our fragile truce. Still, I couldn?t help but think I got off lightly. I felt dumbly happy, or happily dumb. Now I could enjoy practice and then go meet Tamara. Things were going my way again. ?But don?t tell her at practice,? Lena said. ?Tell her when you guys are alone.? I agreed. You?re making such a big deal out of nothing, Lena, I told myself. My dumb feeling became an even dumber feeling after Lena and I strolled back into the garage. Sarah came over and hugged me, pinning my arms to my sides. She said a lot of chirpy, happy things about how we were all friends again. You know, love. I felt warm all over. Also reaction sort of set in when she let me go. My band and Tamara, all in one day. I moved all herky-jerky as I hefted the dinged bass and slipped the strap over my head. My hand was trembling as I plugged in. It took two tries and even though I tried to hide it, everyone saw. Lena came over and ruffled my hair. ?Just until he finds his feet.? It was a quote from ?Babe,? you know, that movie about the talking pig. It was just about the most perfect thing she could have said, too. It made me smile and calm down a little. I promised myself to be on my best behavior as Lena helped me tune, and I stole a glance at Gina who was tuning her drums. ?You?re still going to have to buy a bass or something, though,? Lena told me. I nodded. ?I really am sorry about yesterday. And I?m so sorry about knocking a hole in this one.? Lena shrugged. ?Shit happens, right? I was talking to my mom last night and she was like, ?Well, you guys hang out a lot.? You know, you spend too much time in each other?s space and you?re bound to have a fight or whatever.? ?Okay, dykes,? Gina said. ?Let?s play music and you can?? Then she stopped. "Oh fuck, Amy, I?m sorry.? I looked at her in confusion. ?Sorry about what?? ?I forgot you?re gay.? ?Don?t let that stop you from being a bitch.? Gina laughed and then we started practicing. I apologized about twenty more times, though. I hated apologizing, but we had our friendship and that was worth keeping together. The friendship had to come first. Plus, I don't think I could've stood going through life without the opportunity to check out Gina's ass. Afterwards, I called my mom from inside Gina?s house and told her I was going to be home later. She wasn?t too pleased about it. She asked me what I was doing and who I?d be with. ?It?s? kinda?? I started, then couldn?t continue because I was in danger of dying from embarrassment. ?Kinda what?? Mom asked. ?It?s?? I had to stop again. Don?t make me say it, I told myself, but I didn?t really have a choice. ?It?s a date.? ?A date or a date-date?? ?A date-date.? Not exactly true, but my heart was telling my brain maybe if we said it, it would be. True. Reality. ?Oh my god,? Mom squealed, sounding a lot like both Emily and Sarah at the same time. My face felt like a volcano. I popped a sweat. My own mom was gushing about my love life. She asked me who it was, and I told her about Tamara with as little detail as possible. Just, ?She?s new. She has the locker next to mine. Actually, I?m not sure it?s a date-date.? ?But you like her?? It took like forever just to reply, ?Uh huh.? ?Well, that?s different. Have fun, okay? Don?t put any pressure on it to be anything. Just relax and have fun. Oh, and don?t be too late. It?s still a school night.? ?I know,? I said. ?And thanks.? ?Love you.? ?I love you.? And I hung up. ?That was so sweet,? Gina said from behind me. I turned and she as getting sodas out of the fridge. ?How much did you hear?? I asked, my eyes wide. Sweating again. ?Just the last part.? ?You sneaked in here and eavesdropped on a private conversation between me and my mom!? ?It?s my house. I can sneak and eavesdrop all I want.? I huffed. ?Date-date?? I grumbled. ?Yes.? Gina smiled and handed me a soda. It was a Sprite. The can felt cold in my hand and I held it against my damp forehead. Sweet relief. ?It?s that new girl,? Gina said as if she already knew a thing or two about a thing or two. Chapter Four: Milkshake n?Honey Tamara and I met downtown and sat out in the rosy light of an autumn sunset, under the trees. Downtown was awesome, especially that time of year. Everything was within walking distance: clubs, bars, restaurants. Moldy Oldies, where we bought our vintage clothes, three music stores, and some coffeehouses. All the new university students were in town, so there was a lot more action going on. People walking around, checking ot stuff, shopping and all the fun things people liked to do. Most of the restaurants were bustling, too. I couldn?t help but feel a little buzz from the energy around us. And from being with Tam. Tamara and I hung outside this one place, Kosmic Koffee. They had little round tables out on the sidewalk. People walked dogs by us; Tamara had to pet them all and didn't mind them slopping their big, wet tongues all over her face. She just shut her eyes, smiled, and turned up her chin. After a while, the streetlights came on even though the sky was still fairly bright. It added a kind of fairy quality to it all. Like Christmas lights or something. "I love this town," Tamara said. "So much more laid back than some of the places I used to live." "Like where?" She told me about her dad, and all the bases where he?d been stationed and the cities they?d lived in. She'd really been all over. Somewhere in there, I got the idea she'd even modeled. "Wait, hold up," I said. "Did you just say something about being in a catalog?" "Oh yeah, last year. I got to go on this photo shoot to Puerto Rico. For Alloy." Oh shit, that excited me way more than I would have expected. I didn?t get Alloy catalogs, but Sarah and Gina did, so there was a pretty good chance I?d actually seen Tamara in the pages of one. It was like I was sitting next to a famous person. I should've guessed that, from her height and her charisma. A model. She told me she liked doing it okay, but decided she wanted to live as normal a life as she could, being a military brat and all. She still had some friends who were with agencies, especially at her old one. But she really didn't want to talk about it, which made me think she was even cooler. We kind of sat on the same side of the table, so every time she moved her long legs, our knees brushed. And every time that happened, my heart actually skipped. I felt this yearning all over, like she was magnetic and my entire body was being pulled towards her. It was all I could do to sit still in my chair. She asked me about skating, and I ended up just babbling. So I asked her if she wanted to see my latest rash. "Eww," she said, laughing. "I think some things, you should keep to yourself." I blushed. "No, it's road rash. I fell pretty hard last weekend. It's not as gruesome as it was, but it's still pretty cool." "Yeah, show me." "I usually wear armor," I explained. Tamara frowned. "I mean, knee-pads." "How come you weren't?" "Okay, it's kinda embarrassing, but I wasn't at the skate park. I was about to go there, but I had this dumb idea-" "What?" "I was out on Sarah?s patio, you know, her mom?s house? I was trying to jump a lawnchair." As I talked, I rolled up my pants leg and showed Tamara the oversized bandage on my knee. She wanted to peel it back herself, so I let her. She winced, and slapped the bandage back down. "Oh my god! That's fucking disgusting!" she shrieked. Then burst out laughing. "Just kidding. It wasn't that bad, actually." "I've had worse," I said, and I pointed to this place on my palm where the lines didn't quite match up anymore. Tamara actually took my hand. Only Tamara's hands were so much larger than mine, not quite as soft. I felt like a kid next to her. Well, I would have, except about that time I got really turned on. It just came over me, this warmth from my tummy. Or in the general vicinity of my tummy, anyways. I knew exactly what it was from having felt it before when Gina got too close, or whenever Dallas touched me that time and started to get really into it. Embarrassed, I pulled my hand back as soon as I could and not hurt Tamara?s feelings. And then, she asked, ?Are you dating anyone?? I didn't really know how to answer, especially not with my body going through that at the moment, so I just shook my head and smiled a kind of noncommittal smile. Boys, eh? They're like an alien species. That kind of smile. "Hmm," Tamara said, squinting at me. "You're so... I don't want to creep you out, but you're very pretty. I mean, you're fucking gorgeous. I guess I kinda freaked you with that Jenny Shimizu comment." "Thank you," I said, barely audibly. No one had ever called me gorgeous before. Well, maybe Emily had, but that was sister talk. No one I?d ever been so into had ever said that to me, or given me that kind of compliment. Not sure how to even process it, I went all wiggly and felt like an atomic fireball. Heat, perspiration, happiness, weirdness. All at the same time. I stared at my coffee, then took a sip. It had gone cold. "I think I'm dumb looking." "You are not. If I was a guy, I'd be all over you." Oh fuck. What was she doing to me? I'd never, ever felt this way before. This weird, totally vulnerable feeling where I wanted to open up my entire life to her. It wasn?t an emotion I?d ever experienced before, in either lifetime. I wanted her in everything, every aspect of me, I wanted to give it all to her. I didn't think it so much as I felt it, but it sure as hell drove every other thought out of my mind. Somehow, in the dark, I got back home. I must have floated there like a feather. And about an hour later, I got a phone call. Michelle, wanting to know where I'd been. "I called three times," she said. Sounded pretty urgent, or else she would have called me Claudia or else started making stupid wisecracks trying to make fun of me and get me biting back. "Yeah, Tamara and I hung out downtown. What's up?" Just telling her that sent tingles all over me. Maybe she?d ask-- "I went over to Dallas' today after school..." The mood changed. Dallas, the love killer. And the way Michelle's voice trailed off, I suddenly expected the worst. Dallas had talked about suicide on and off ever since I'd known her. We all thought it was just one of those depression-girl things. I mean, she listened to Morrissey and Joy Division and all these super-sad groups, always wore black. I couldn't breathe for a moment. I felt like all life everywhere had stopped, like time didn't exist. Instead, Michelle said, "And she's got this painting." Oh. Relief followed by a sudden topic fatigue. Back to warmer thoughts of Tamara. I kind of blandly said, "She's got lots of paintings." "Well, this one's kinda different. Plus... it's of you." "Me?" I wasn't all that surprised, but I was a little interested now. Dallas was always drawing me. I never posed for her the way I had for Emily, but Dallas had this uncanny knack for drawing from memory. But I wasn?t about to let on I gave a shit. "No big deal." "You've seen it?" "No, but I know she's drawn me a lot. I don't know why she'd paint me. I don't see why you're being such a spaz about it." "You've got to see it." "Not gonna happen. We're not talking, remember?" Anyways, Michelle told me Dallas was taking it to school the next day, and something about a citywide art competition. But she wouldn't tell me anything else. Just: "You won't believe it unless you see it." ?Okay. I?ll take your word for it.? After we hung up, I promptly put it out of my mind. Who gave a fuck about Dallas when our brave new world had people such as Tamara in it? I was falling in love. I was going to let myself do it, just go head over heels and all that. Oh shit, and we had a show in October! I had to tell Sarah she was singing with us, like it or not. I?d completely forgotten thanks to Tamara intoxication. I didn?t do a bit of my homework, ate some reheated leftovers, made small talk with Mom, who had this twinkle in her eyes like she expected me to spill on the big date. But I couldn?t. Not yet, anyways. I fell asleep in a great mood. Chapter Five: Pompeii Before homeroom the next day, I talked to Tamara at our lockers, a moment I?d been anticipating all morning. Stomach churning, hands trembling, can?t tie my shoes anticipating. That?s how bad off I was. Tam wanted to know if I made it into school safely. I told her I knew how to handle myself, and the egging story, which led to my having to explain how this whole Heidi Fleegleman war got started. Still, it was kind of funny how the cheerleaders left me alone that morning. Afraid of Tamara, or up to no good; I couldn't decide which. "Wow," Tamara said when I'd finished my story. "That's so... fucked up." And I hadn't even told her the part about Heidi being in lesbian-love with me. "Yeah." Then she wanted to know all about my cheer stint, which I totally did not want to relive. I sort of shrugged it off, made it out like it'd been no big deal, and we both agreed we hated cheerleaders. Hmm, something in common. "Anyways, I probably shouldn't have egged them. But, you know." Tamara thought about it, smiled her spectacular toothsome smile and actually ruffled my hair. I felt like a child again; she really reduced me to helplessness. I'm surprised I managed to function at all around her. And even that little playful touch thrilled my entire body; I wanted to attack her right there in the hall. Only with kisses and shit. "Hey," she said. "I had a fun time yesterday. Thanks for showing me some of the town." "I didn't show you much of it," I told her. "Maybe this weekend, when we're not practicing, we can all go hang out and feed the pigeons." "I'd rather drink some beer," Tamara said. "Sarah told me you guys have the hook up for some awesome fake ID's." "Oh yeah! We?ll be able to get in everywhere!" I said, my eyes wide. "We haven?t bought them yet, but Gina's the one to talk to. She knows this guy with access to some major computerage." "Computerage? Is that some sort of techno-nerd term?" "Uh... you know." "I'm just fucking with you." I missed a beat, then grinned. Tamara beamed at me. Fucking beamed at me. I actually broke a sweat, I was getting so amped on how things were going with her. I mean, I figured she wanted to be friends, but I was completely cool with that. Anything to be around her. Of course, I was starting to get pretty good at faking casual around her. When second period art rolled around that day, sure enough, Dallas had a massive canvas wrapped in brown wrapping paper leaning against her table in the back of the room. Mr. Tanner, our art teacher, could hardly contain himself. He was this super neat black guy, kind of young, favored sweaters. We all liked him. That morning, hands flew around like birds, and he fidgeted like mad. I got exhausted just watching him. "Okay," he told us when the last bell rang. "Everyone, let's all gather round for the unveiling." He told us a little about the competition Dallas was entered in. There were scholarships involved, so it turned out to be a pretty massive deal. I hung back, a little dubious about the whole thing. Dallas looked neither happy nor sad. Just tired. Or bored. She took out an X-acto and slit the paper, and Mr. Tanner made this weird noise that was probably supposed to be a drumroll until one of the guys started doing it for real with his hands on one of the tables, and then a whole bunch of people and Mr. Tanner were doing it all together. The tattoo got louder and louder. At the last moment, Dallas kind of parted her arms and the paper fell away. Then she Dallas just looked out the window and sighed, like we were blinding high beams in her eyes and she could no longer bear it. The painting stood revealed to the class. The drumroll stopped. For the longest time, we all stood there like wax dummies, dummies being the main theme, because we all had our mouths open. Bradley, this one kid, who always drew super heroes when we were supposed to be drawing still lives and shit, pretty much summed up everyone's feelings when he broke the silence and said, "Holy fuck." Michelle was right: the picture was a portrait of me. Short black hair, half-opened eyes, reclined in an overstuffed chair. Amazing likeness. Dallas had even painted my five little earrings, two in one lobe, two in the other and one up top. I had on this string necklace with red plastic beads and this little, dangling metal butterfly. And nothing else. Ass naked. Slender little arms, small chest, flat tummy wrinkled because I was sitting, dark curly hair between my legs, feet splayed. Just sort of collapsed in the chair, and not a stitch of clothing. Dallas had never seen me completely naked; she mostly knew my body from touch, but she'd pretty much captured what I saw in the mirror every day. Okay, it was an awesome painting. I mean, she was even better than Emily, and Emily was the best fucking painter I'd seen up to that point. Lots of brush strokes, and these totally subjective color choices that, amazingly enough, actually added up to a close approximation of my Asian skin tones (I wasn?t yellow, folks), right down to my tank top tanlines. Holy fuck, indeed. "Hmm," Mr. Tanner said, his gearbox blown. "I don't-" His voice pushed a button in my brain and this intense feeling of humiliation just flooded over me, but also adrenaline, which gave my (clothed) body permission to act. Before Mr. Tanner could finish whatever thought he felt he had to enunciate, like a flash, with my eyes wide and my teeth digging into my lower lip, I threw myself in front of Dallas' canvas. I did not like the way these kids were staring at my body. I felt completely naked there in the classroom, totally exposed. I kind of blurted in this desperate, shaky, squeaky voice, "There's no way this is going in that art competition!" "I have to agree," Mr. Tanner said when he finally found her voice. His face had gone gray and he looked like someone had sucker punched him and he?d just gotten himself up off the floor. "Good lord, Buttercup," Bradley said. "You're a raging hottie!" "Shut up! Stop looking at me!" I shouted at him, at everyone. I looked at Dallas, but she was still staring at the wall. "What the fuck, Dallas?? It was kind of a credit to Dallas? painting abilities and subject matter Mr. Tanner had nothing left to come at me with over my language. Dallas suddenly took off out the door, no hall pass. She said only, "I'm sorry, Amy." Gone. Oh man, this was the worst. I was trembling all over, and I was alone against everybody with that painting. It was large enough I couldn't keep it completely covered. Luckily, Mr. Tanner, Bradley, and this other girl volunteered to wrap it back up. Mr. Tanner and I put it against the wall in the back of the room. By lunch period, everybody in the freaking school was buzzing about "Naked Amy." I was the most famous girl in town. I looked for Dallas in the cafeteria, but she never showed up. "Shit," I said to Sarah, Gina and Lena as I slid into place at our table and put my tray down. "This is a fucking nightmare." "Why'd she, like, paint you naked?" Lena wanted to know. "Didn't you know?" Sarah bubbled. "Dallas is... she loves Amy." The L word startled me. Oh shit, what else did Sarah know? "No fucking way," Gina said. "Actually, I guess it makes sense, though. I mean, when you think about it." "How?" Sarah asked. "I mean, always wearing black and stuff. I mean, Dallas is cool, but she's kind of odd. No wonder she's so fucked up." ?What does that have to do with her being in love with Amy?? Sarah asked her. Gina gave her this ?isn?t it fucking obvious? look that explained nothing although she thought it did. Sarah kind of went flustery and then started drinking her milk so she wouldn?t be expected to say anything else on the matter. So far, no one had said a word to me. I imagined what they were thinking. That I'd posed for her, and that we'd had some kind of torrid affair like in one of those independent films. Real Sundance Film Festival material. Yeah, we'd had an affair all right. A five minute one on my sofa with my pants around my legs. At least Dall hadn?t painted that. Then Michelle came bopping up with her tray and crashed in with us. She went to eating without saying so much as a ?Hello? or ?Fuck you all.? "What else did Dallas say?" I asked her, not sure if I really wanted an answer. ?When she showed you the painting yesterday?? "Nothing much, really," Michelle said, her mouth full of food. "She didn't want to talk about it. Just that she had a major thing for you, and that you turned her down. I mean, I got kinda pissed at you, but I know how Dallas can be." "Pissed at me?" "Yeah, I thought maybe you were blowing her off because you couldn't handle it. Then, I kinda thought maybe she was blowing you off. Whatever. I told you I didn?t wanna get caught in the middle, and here I am, in the middle. Where I didn?t wanna be. But I am. So thanks.? ?I can?t help liking who I like,? I told her. ?And not liking who I don?t like.? ?I agree. I just don?t like when it affects me and makes me have to choose between two friends.? ?Choose?? ?You know. Oh my god, must we have turnip greens? Who the fuck likes turnip greens anyways? People who live here are little fucking heathens with the weird shit you guys eat.? ?Amy is from Cali,? Sarah said softly. What a tangled knot. This really changed things. What was Tamara going to think? Oh yeah, and now I was Naked Girl. When I heard Heidi Fleegleman had been acting pretty bitchy all afternoon, I had a pretty good idea why. I mean, I'd have wanted to see a nude painting of her, too.