Amy 35: As Loud As Hell free porn video

Amy 35: As Loud as Hell Copyright 2016 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) 2016 Amy Komori. All rights reserved. Chapter One: A Ringing Bell Emily's big art opening got pushed back until after July because the person having a show at the same place before her couldn't be bothered to come in and get her stuff without a big stink. That was all I knew about it because that was all Emily knew and there were actually invitations and stuff that were suddenly wrong and a fucked up notice in the local music paper. The local regular paper ignored it. But it did happen, the very first weekend of August, when I was finally 16 and catching up with my friends again. Sarah, Gina and I showed up a little early, dressed up for the event. I was in basic black, a black oxford shirt, black pants, black Vans. My beaded bracelets were the only splash of color. More like cupcake sprinkles, really. Sarah had on this white tank and an amazing patchwork peasant skirt down to her ankles. It was all green and pink and floral print in big stitched squares. God, she was fucking born to wear things like that. Gina wore a strappy cotton dress that was white with a satin ribbon along the empire waist beneath her ample boobage and had these flowers kind of stitched and then this pink embroidery along the hem just above her knees. Even with her short hair it made her look super girly, but I knew for a fact she was sporting guy's tighty-whiteys under it because she was really into that at the time. Her shoes were these white mary jane type deal. I felt a little frustrated because I was dying to borrow both the skirt and the dress but they were both a couple of sizes out of my league. At the same time, I felt really jazzed because my friends looked gorgeous. "Hey," Emily drawled when she spotted us. She was helping the gallery people set up some refreshments. Like chip-n-dip and little pretzels. It seemed kind of like parent-dinner-party, but it was her show. Obviously the hors d'oeuvre budget came out of Emily's shallow pockets. Emily quickly ditched the feeble sacrificial offerings and we were all hugging and whatnot and catching up on stuff. I felt like I hadn't seen her in forever, but obviously I had. Just not as much as I would have liked. A little pang for her caught me by surprise and it was also for Michelle, who was still in Tulsa. "Where's Tam?" Emily asked. She looked disappointed as she said it. "Family trip," I told her. It was true. Tam's dad had taken her and her mom to the beach for a week. I had not been invited although we'd talked about it. The reason for the non-invite was the event we were at currently. Tam was another person I was missing, but that wasn't so bad because I knew we'd be together soon. Michelle I wasn't so sure about. We'd had this weird kind of ultra-baffling phone conversation and I couldn't get much out of her. Inside I had this dread she was gone forever. She'd told me she was definitely coming back for our senior year at Delacroix. But it hadn't reassured me. "Well, it's too bad. She's missing out on this massive feast we've prepared," Emily said, kind of jerking her head over at the refreshment table where this red-haired woman was putting out what looked like plastic champagne glasses. Sarah and Gina were already walking around the room looking at Emily's paintings, which were huge. And she hadn't been kidding about the furniture theme. They were all of rooms full of furniture, as brightly colorful as her usual stuff like going all the way back to when I'd first met her and I'd been her boyfriend instead of her little sister. Only now there was more focus to it. Like the compositions drew you in more. She'd learned so much and I'd missed it. "Holy fucking god," I gasped now that my attention had been drawn to the artwork. I gaped at it, then back at Emily, and she was blushing and smiling a dozen different ways. "Oh my god," I said, kind of repeating myself. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to this one big painting of her current bedroom, which was kind of a take off on that one Van Gogh but sunnier and pale yellowish, but with this blue light coming through a great window and illuminated green plants that seemed not exactly lifelike because it wasn't realism. They were kind of gesturing, though. The whole thing conveyed this sense of welcome. It was the best thing I'd ever seen from her and it moved me. I mean, seriously, it made me feel so happy that she could do something like this I almost wanted to cry. I felt my eyes jet little warm happy tears and I kind of semi-giggled and bounced a little. "You like that, huh?" said a voice from behind us and now it was my turn to blush. Someone had intruded on what I'd intended as a private moment between my sister and me. We both turned. It was the red-haired woman. She was a little taller than I was, her hair was shoulder-length and kind of boring. She had these oval-framed granny glasses on and a pointy nose, thin pink lips and she was wearing this 70s vintage dress that was brown and orange and pink. She had on what I took to be brown Teva sandals, too. "Yeah, I like it," I said in this challenging, snotty voice I was incredibly accomplished at. "It's awesome." I mean, anyone could see that. "Oh, hey," Emily said quickly before I did any damage, "Janice, this is my sister, Amy." "THE Amy?" Janice said, her eyes wide and shiny. It was a strange echo of the very thing I'd said when Emily first mentioned Janice Carter to me. And that's who I realized she was. THE Janice Carter. Of Four Square, the band I still hadn't managed to see. I was surprised because at that moment, my heart did a little pitter- patty dance and then it passed but I couldn't help but be aware that the gist of that month-or-so old conversation was Ms. Janice Carter was interested in little ol' me. What I'd taken for kind of dowdy and pretentious a moment before now seemed a lot more acceptable. Kind of charming, even. I finally got her aesthetic. "Yeah, this is her," Emily said. "Your band," Janice said. "I saw you guys not so long ago." "Huh. That's cool. The last time we played was that same not so long ago," I told her. We hadn't had a show in a while, but we had that recording we'd made and that was going to get us moving. We hoped. Janice knew all about that, too. In fact, she knew more about it than I did and put on a major demonstration about just how ignorant I really was about my own business and what was happening to my own band behind the scenes. She also pried into it even more deeply with a ton of questions. I wished Lena was there to answer in terms more definite than the "I guess..." I kept having to say. "Well, it's so nice to finally meet you. I really love you guys," Janice said. "Hey, I've got to attend to a few more things before the official opening." She gave us this apologetic smile and we all said nice things about each other and as soon as she was clear, Emily asked me what I thought of her. "What do you mean?" "She totally fuckin' adores you," Emily said. "I have a girlfriend." "I know. I'm just... I don't know... I guess I'm interested in what you like. It's kind of like there's this new you now." "There's been a new me for a while now. I think she's the old me." "I mean, you've become a woman and all that. A young lady." That was when I realized she was fucking with me, Emily-style. I laughed a little low laugh and cut my eyes over at Sarah and Gina who were pouring themselves some kind of store brand cola at the food table. "Whatever, dude," I said in a whispery voice. "I'm not available." "That's cool. I just want your opinion, not trying to set you up." "Because that would be rude as fuck. Anyways, she's cool. She's kind of cute in a librarian way." "You like that?" "Sometimes." Emily nodded as if she'd just gotten some amazing fact straight. I frowned. Once again I had this distinct feeling my big sister was compiling a list about my traits or something. It was a familiar feeling from long ago and here it was again. But Emily quickly said, "Don't sweat it, Honey Bunny. Oh shit!" Her eyes got so wide I thought something horrible had happened. Like her paintings were on fire or Gina had slugged Janice Carter in the face. I looked around but Emily grabbed me by the shoulders. "That creep guy!" she said. "What happened with that? Mom told me--" Oh, that. Well, something had happened. The last note I'd gotten convinced me to call the cops, but first I'd told our mom about it and she'd freaked and immediately gotten on the phone. Pretty soon after that, this police officer who reminded me a lot of Holly Hunter in "Raising Arizona," I mean, so much so I kept wanting to ask her to bark, "TURN TO THE RIGHT!" came up to our door and we had this long talk with her in our dining room while she took notes. I asked Emily if she knew any of that, and she said that's what Mom had told her. "Well, anyways," I said, "she wants to get a restraining order or something. She has to do it for me because, as you well know, I happen to be a minor." "Okay. Is she? Did she?" "It's in the works. It may not be necessary. I'm not really sure. But I got referred to this safety course thing. Like I have to have a safety plan." "Wow." "A fucking safety plan to rule the way I live on a daily basis. It's fucking embarrassing, dude. It's really annoying, too." "Why embarrassing?" "I don't know. Maybe that's the wrong word. I feel shitty about it, okay? Like why am I having to rearrange my life?" "Well, what did the cops do?" "Talked to him or something." "That's all." "That's all for now. It's ongoing, dude. As in it will go on. It will go on being annoying and I will go on trying not to let it ruin my life." "I'm sorry I brought it up. I know this isn't exactly the best place for it and all, but it's just we don't really get to talk." I felt truly sad all of a sudden. I whispered, "I know, dude. I miss you." "I miss you, too, Honey Bunny. Just... do not hug me in front of your friends." "We already did." "That was different." I nodded. I was thirsty from meeting Janice Carter and having to tell Emily about Daniel, so I stomped over to the food table and made Sarah pour me a soda and then she dropped it on my shoes in a big foamy splash that made me yelp. Sarah's hands went to her mouth, covering it but it was a completely round dark hole when last I saw it as I did a little sloppy wet shoe dance in front of her. It felt really weird, like I had fizzy toes. And each time I put a foot down the soda came bubbling out of it even more. "I'm sorry!" Sarah gasped. She stopped gawking and knocked over a stack of cups reaching for the napkins, which also went soaring off the table like confetti at a parade. We both grabbed as many of the napkins as we could capture without destroying anything else and I started sopping up the soda on the floor while Sarah got in my way trying to dry my shoes, which was really even dumber than the original accident because how were thin party napkins going to help? At least I was wearing black. Only Sarah and I would be the wiser, except for the few people who were watching our little show. We stayed at the opening for a few hours with my feet soda-squishy the whole time. Sarah apologized about one thousand times more and I kept telling her it was all right although my feet were really gross feeling. Mostly we hung out with Emily and sometimes Janice just talking. I kept making eye contact with Janice and finding her watching me from behind those glasses. I kind of liked it, but I kept telling myself to forget it. I was a dumb kid compared to her. She was working in art and all that, and she knew way more than I did about the whole townie scene and whatnot. Plus, Tam. It's just a little later, when I was in the bathroom kind of looking at myself in the mirror and squeezing my toes down in my shoes, the door opened and Janice came in. "I didn't know anyone was in here," she said. "I think there's more than enough room," I told her. She smiled. "Your sister is an amazing artist. Can you even stand it?" "I know," I said all earnestly because I definitely agreed. "Do you paint or are you just into music?" "Only in school. I mean, painting. I'm definitely into music." "School?" "I'm going to be a senior at Delacroix in the fall." "Wow, congratulations. Are you excited?" "Not really. I mean, I guess it will be kind of cool." I felt so dumb talking about high school to someone like Janice Carter. She had a job. She had a car. She had her own place. I felt so stupid and childish. Then she was gushing more about Emily, how talented she was and how cool she was. She also said a lot of really nice things about Sarah and Lena and Gina. Sarah's voice, Lena and Gina as musicians. I kind of wished she'd say something like that about me, so I went fishing. "Kind of too bad about the bassist, huh?" I asked. Janice laughed. I felt good about making her laugh because to me it put us back on equal footing, or at least as much as possible. "It's just like--" she said abruptly, then backed me up against the sink so I was touching it and we were kissing. When we broke lip lock and I had the taste of her tongue in my mouth still, and I actually didn't feel much of anything. I mean, she was a good kisser and all, but now that it had happened, suddenly I was kind of not into her at all. Which was really funny in a way, because I'd actually been thinking about her on and off ever since Emily first told me her name. And yeah, I thought she was cute now that I'd met her. But there wasn't anything sparking or magical about kissing her it turned out. Not even the forbidden fruit of doing something like this behind Tam's back. Well, honestly, that did give me a little tingle as it occurred to me right that second. And it erased at least a little of the disappointment. But standing there with her hips kind of bumping mine and the feel of her dress touching my clothes, the smell of her perfume and the smooth hardness of the sink mashing into the area just above my ass cheeks was kind of to be expected. Still, I wasn't about to let the opportunity slip by. Maybe if we kissed again, something would click. Maybe she'd stick her hand down my pants and get me off or something at least. I did what I hoped was a cute and flirty kind of smile, then put my hands in her hair and drew her down towards my face. She smiled back as she dipped into the kiss and then her arms were wrapping around me and one of her hands went slinking up the back of my shirt to the elastic band of my bra--yes, I was wearing one that night for some reason--and we started making out in earnest. I mean, like really kissing deeply and circling our tongues inside each other's mouths and all that. Still, I wasn't feeling much of anything. Maybe a little aroused, and I was enjoying whatever she was wearing on her skin because it smelled super nice. But Janice Carter herself? Kind of a letdown, it turned out. Then the door opened again, and this time it was Sarah. Janice and I stopped kissing and both of us gawked at her and she was gawking back, her green eyes big and moist, her face going as many shades of pink as you could imagine. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry." Janice and I were still just standing there pressed against each other, my ass mashed into the sink, my hands on the sides of her head, my lips completely soaked with her spit. Sarah backed out the door. "Oh fuck," I huffed. "What ha--" Janice started to say, but I'd already bolted through the door and after Sarah. She cut off as the door shut and then to me she was mostly forgotten and my body was busy supplying for itself much more adrenaline than Janice Carter could have possibly provided on her best night. Probably because I was scared. I found Sarah trying to blend in with the group at the food table. She met my eyes and looked like she was going to cry. "Hey," I hissed at her. "Can we talk? Like right now?" "I... I don't..." "Please?" I walked Sarah outside. My nerves were jangling so much I felt like a human fire alarm. Out in front of the gallery the night was warm and still, with the orange glow of the streetlights turning everything kind of ugly around us. The sidewalk looked like an eerie strip of yellow. "Oh my god, Sarah," I said in this breathy, quavery voice. "Please don't say anything to anyone." "I-I won't. Tam--" "I know, I know. I don't know what happened. It just... I don't know what to say. I just really don't want you to tell Tamara. Don't tell anyone. Not even Gina, okay?" "I won't." I ran my hands through my hair. I was calming down a little. "Fuck, dude. I don't know what came over me." "Do you like her?" "Janice? No. Okay, yeah, obviously I kind of do. Sort of. But that was... that wasn't..." "That was so weird. I-I don't like... I don't like lying for you." "I know. I'm sorry, Sarah." I was, too. I was sorry for putting Sarah in this spot, but at the same time I was also sorry she'd come in when she did because even if I wasn't very into it, I was pretty sure I would have fucked Janice Carter just because it would have been interesting to see what fucking a schoolmarm felt like. Chapter Two: Behind My Smile I kind of half expected Janice Carter to call me or something. After all, she knew Emily and obviously Emily had my phone number. When the phone didn't ring, I tried to put it out of my mind. It was kind of difficult being around Sarah at the first band practice in the immediate aftermath because I felt like we were sharing this secret from everyone. As we practiced and shot the shit things kind of settled down and I could almost forget Janice. Then I'd catch a glimpse of Sarah looking at me kind of funny. Well, funnier than usual for Sarah. "Are you mad at me?" I asked her when we had a private moment during a pee break. Sarah shook her head no. "Why would I be mad at you?" "The other night. Making you lie and all that." "I'm not. I haven't even had to lie about it. No one's said anything." By "no one," she specifically meant Tamara. Who wasn't around, obviously. But when she did get back, why would Tamara would say anything as long as Sarah kept her cool? That's what I was counting on. After a few moments, Sarah looked really worried and asked me if I was mad at her. I told her I wasn't with this supposedly reassuring laugh. "When is Tamara getting back?" she suddenly asked. I raised my eyebrows. "Sunday. Sunday afternoon." "You miss her, don't you?" "Yeah, of course." "That's why you did it." That last thing wasn't a question. And it wasn't even directed at me. It was Sarah being my best friend. She had to assign me a motivation that made me look like the much better person she was forever convinced I was. It wasn't about my liking girls or even liking a lot of girls at the same time. It was about honesty and not cheating. If I'd been single she would have been really happy for me. On the other hand, it was just a bathroom makeout session. It's not as if Janice and I had actually fucked, and it wasn't even that good as far as makeout sessions went. I felt ripped off in a way. Tamara was a much better kisser and she was warmer and more exciting to do it with. If anything, I should have been dating Janice Carter and cheating on her with Tam. Still, it was just like Sarah to put whatever stupid thing I did in the best possible light. She'd absolved me of responsibility in her heart, even though we both knew that was kind of bullshit. Now that Sarah seemed to have parsed things to her satisfaction, I could just forget about it. Well, I hoped I could. Unfortunately, Janice was now pissed at both Emily and me. Which I found out when Emily called and yelled at me. She didn't know exactly what I'd done, but she knew it wasn't good. My "it wasn't that big a deal" defensiveness kicked in and we had a phone fight. "You were the one thrusting her in my face," I accused. "I didn't thrust anyone. I just asked if you were interested." "You practically set us up." "Oh, fuck you." Emily hung up on me and I boiled in my own juices for a while. I knew I was wrong for blaming her, but I didn't give a fuck. I was just mad. Mom tried to play peacemaker, but she wasn't really able to because she had no idea why we were fighting. I did feel guilty about possibly wrecking a friendship for Emily. But I was also convinced everyone was being stupid about it, too. Including me. My savior Michelle Cho came back home a couple of days after that. She called me up and asked me if I'd been skating. Finally, a phone conversation that wasn't going to be about what a horrible person I was. "Of course," I told her a little too eagerly because I was stoked to hear her voice. Yeah, I'd skated by myself a few times. It was weird. No girl woodpushers were living in town as far as we knew at the time so I was the only girl and definitely the only inline person. Total testosterone scene. The guys had been actually well behaved, but that might have been the summer heat wearing them down and making them less inclined to be guylike. Another thing was obviously this grudging sense of respect. Michelle and I had carved out our little niche there and I'd come alone to defend it and represent, and everyone knew I was pretty much only into girls so a lot of that flirty shit and rudeness kind of disappeared from our little interactions. Fuck knew what they said about me behind my back. I mean, I could guess pretty easily. But they didn't seem as inclined this summer to say shit to my face and I was grateful for that. But honestly, without Michelle there to talk to, it wasn't quite as fun. I made Michelle tell me about Tulsa, but she wasn't that into it so her answers were kind of on the terse side. Like, "So, what did you and your dad talk about?" "I don't know. He's getting married again. We saw this cool band while we were there. If they ever play here, we have to go check them out." Changing the subject? How Michelle-like. ?Okay, cool. What are they called?? ?Smoking Babies. I know, it?s a really dumb name and all, but they were really cool. I talked to them after.? ?Yeah, if they ever play here. Or if you take me to Tulsa.? ?You don?t really want to go to Tulsa do you?? ?Yeah. I said so, didn?t I? I?m pretty sure I did.? ?Well, I might be going back.? Alarmed, I asked, ?When?? Michelle must have picked up on it, so she was actually reassuring. She said, ?Oh, not for a while. School and whatever. I don?t know.? ?You wanna live there?? ?Oh, fuck no.? ?Here?s a lot better?? ?No, here sucks, too. If it wasn?t for you guys, like Dall and you, I don?t know.? I kind of understood how she felt. Sometimes here was great and sometimes it was just grating. The rumor shit at school, the name- dropping when we were with Sorrel and her crowd. And sometimes the whole town just seemed small nowadays. I guess we were growing up. A little. ?You ready for school?? Michelle asked almost as if she?d read my mind. ?You mean do I have like notebooks and pens and pencils?? ?No, I mean have you been jacking off thinking about the cheerleaders you wanna fuck?? ?MICHELLE!? That was Michelle?s mom?s voice. I heard it cutting through the phone line and then Michelle quickly said, ?I better go? and hung up while her mom was giving her a major hard time. When I switched off my phone and dropped it back on the charger thingy I was laughing pretty hard. Chapter Three: It Shakes My Teeth The rest of August blew by. Emily and I made up, Tamara came back and we got on with our relationship as if nothing had happened. I even ran into Janice Carter with her once and had to introduce them. It was at the Mixer and we were watching yet another new band made up of members of several old, defunct bands. It was actually called Defunction Junction, a name that my friends and I agreed sounded like some shitty middle-aged dude cover band. And they weren?t even all that great. So there weren?t so many people there so Tam and I stood out, little me and tall her. So here came Janice making a bee line right for us as if she?d been waiting for us or something. I almost peed in my pants. ?Amy,? Janice said with a grin that made my almost-pee go back into my bladder. I had no idea what her deal was so I just said, ?Hi.? ?Your sister coming?? ?Uh...? And somehow she just glued herself to us for the night. To be honest, it fucking sucked at first and I was annoyed and scared by turns but Janice kept up this really natural friendly front and little by little I relaxed. Tam, who was usually practically telepathic when it came to my moods, didn?t seem to detect anything unusual, or if she did, she just chalked up to my feeling a little anti-social, which I sometimes did. I had been cracking on people pretty cruelly on our way there. Janice even bought us some drinks, but I wasn?t about to let myself get drunk. I sipped on something sour and not too tasty with cool ice cubes that were crunchy. I spent a lot of time sucking on them like they were hard candy and answering in this slurpy mumble no one could understand. That amused me. ?I didn?t know you had a girlfriend,? Janice whispered to me a little bit later when Tam was off in the bathroom and the band was between songs and tuning up and generally dicking off onstage. ?Sorry,? I said with a shrug. ?She?s fucking tall, isn?t she?? ?Yeah, she is.? I decided to take a risk and broach a certain topic. Janice had to have been thinking about it all night, too. So I said, ?Look, I?m really sorry about... you know.? ?Forget it. Things happen. We make mistakes. You?re really cute, ya know that? You could be a real heartbreaker.? I blushed and smiled like a little fool. A heartbreaker, huh? I did kind of know that, as a matter of fact. ?Just... don?t,? she said. Now Janice was looking at me very intently and it made me nervous all over again. I kind of laughed and looked around for someone to rescue me. I didn?t want her advice. ?Don?t be like that,? she said again. Then she smiled and ruffled my hair. Tam came back from the bathroom just in time and Janice told us both see ya later and she was gone. ?What was that all about?? Tam asked. She didn?t seem too concerned. ?She?s Emily?s friend who got her a gallery show that you missed,? I explained. ?Oh.? An uneventful few days after that, at the start of September, we were finally seniors. Seniors. I guess we were excited, but no one really talked about "ruling the school" like the Pink Ladies from "Grease" had. Although one side effect of my gender conversion was I?d really come to love that movie so much more than once I?d sung ?There Are Worse Things I Could Do? in Stockard Channing style to entertain my friends. Also, thanks to my mom, Sarah, Gina, Michelle, Dallas and I had found out there used to be this Japanese pop duo called Pink Lady. We looked for them online after my Mom mentioned them one time when I was telling her about Happy Monkey Do, which was something I did probably too often. We?d spent like a solid day obsessed with Pink Lady and then Gina tried to win an EBay auction for one of their CDs, but when she didn?t for some reason after that we lost interest. But mostly we just wanted to be as cool as Rizzo. Beyond musical thoughts, the coolest thing about starting our senior year was there would no more Heidi Fleegleman. Although some of her followers who were in our grade were supposedly now in charge of all of us, it just didn?t take. The popularity power structure had changed without Fleegleman's personality to focus it. As many problems as I?d had with her?and I understood them all now?most people had genuinely liked her. She wasn?t just beautiful, although there was that. People hated thinking they were shallow enough to judge by looks, but they definitely did. Only in Heidi?s case, there was a real brain and personality to go along with genetic Powerball. We?d been weird with each other, but I was exceptional it turned out and even then we?d shared a couple of moments of almost friendship. Plus she?d eaten me out, which was kind of a nice memory. So it really turned out her rule had been kind of benevolent for almost everyone except me and even I?d gotten an orgasm out of it in the end. In the resulting power vacuum after the change, though, uncertainty crept in. It was kind of a free-for-all. And the ones she?d left behind, the ones who were actually genuinely mean at times, couldn't do a damn thing about it. And since nature abhors a vacuum (or so we learned in science class), who should rush in to fill it but... Me. Well, kind of. Trying to be popular was still the least cool thing anyone could do, as far as I was concerned. Following trends, shopping at the Crap, American Eagle Outshitters, JCrude. It?s just at our school, you couldn?t pretend you weren?t hanging out with townies and college students on the weekends or playing shows when this stuff was starting to get not just your band name but your own personal name in print in the weekly music paper everyone cool at our school read and treated as reverently as the Baptist kids did the Holy Bible or something. Our upcoming slot in the compilation CD was enough for a paragraph mostly about Sarah and Lena but still with a short mention of me and Gina. I mean, you could. You could deny all those things and pretend they didn?t exist. But it would be stupid because people were going to gawk at you. So most people knew we?d played some shows over the summer. And they knew Sorrel had plan for us, too. She wanted us playing at the Mixer at least once a month, but now there were also shows at some of the other clubs coming into focus. There was a small but hip place around the corner from the Mixer, and the guy who owned it and Sorrel were thick friends; he?d already told us he?d put us on when he could. Paige Campion was seriously happy about what we?d done for her CD and was thinking about signing us to her little, all-chick independent label, which was pretty much a one-woman show. But she'd been an A&R person for some major label or other, and had connections. So while you didn?t deny all that stuff, you still didn?t do was show how much all that mattered to you. And yeah, they did matter to me. A lot more than I cared to let on. The end result of that was my friends and I had gained that ineffable quality of being considered ?cool.? And being the meanest out of our group?other than Michelle, that is?I was considered the coolest of the cool. And being considered that cool by the other Delacroix High students meant I became more Amy-ish. I didn't waste my time anymore at high school parties, I sneaked off to smoke, I got wasted with townies, and struggled with my bass. I skated and picked up some nice roadrash from time to time. And I swore like a sailor and smarted off as much as possible. Doing all that was natural for me now. I really didn't try to do anything differently than before. I just did it more. And people seemed to like it. They also liked that we didn?t like ostracize people. Not like things had been when the school was mostly a jockocracy. Music was on the ascendency. Jocks were still cool even though our sports teams were the shittiest in the region, but they weren?t the be all end all anymore. Being local rock stars and queens of the school didn't exclude us from having to attend school. Or experiencing epochal events. Chapter Four: And All the While That was also the September the whole world seemed to catch fire because of terrorism. We spent the day watching the events unfold live on TV from the safety of our classrooms. It was like being in a daze. A lot of girls were crying. I didn?t cry, but this feeling of dread just came all over me and I was even scared to go home. I mean, the last bell of the day was like a relief in a way because I could go away from video images of planes and buildings. And the sky was so blue. It was a truly beautiful fall day. At home I had to face it again because my mom kept the TV on. Sarah never called, but Michelle did and then Tam and we were just kind of in disbelief. And within a week of that-- to put things into the kind of perspective you have from being a 16 year old high school senior-- with four bombed pop quizzes and a major test already under my belt without logging a single pass, I got this big summons to the guidance counselor?s office. If there was one thing that always managed to put me in my place and make me feel exactly like the dumb teenager I was, it was having to deal with faculty or staff at school. Concerned adults other than my own mom totally chapped my ass. I took the hall pass from my teacher as if it was a big smelly horse turd and slumped from the room after Sarah, who was actually the office helper who came to find me in class. I felt sixty-two eyeballs burning the back of my skull as we went out the door. ?I-I?m sorry,? Sarah said in this soft voice. ?Why?? ?I don?t know. I just... your name was on the list.? ?No. Why are you sorry? You didn?t do anything.? ?I mean, I?m just sorry in general.? ?Oh.? I waited a moment. ?What kind of trouble am I in? What list are you talking about?? Sarah stopped and I almost bumped into her. She whirled, her green eyes really big. ?I shouldn?t have said.? ?Well, now you have to say.? ?It?s this... like... it?s a list of people in academic arrears.? ??Arrears?? That?s not a word!? I?d almost shouted. Oops. We had to quiet it down a little. Well, specifically, I did. ?It?s a word, Amy. It just means you and a bunch of others whose grades are slipping have to do these meetings to... I don?t know... fix things.? ?I?m in arrears? What the fuck?? ?I... saw your grades.? ?I failed two quizzes.? ?Four. And the first major test. Oh my god, Amy, you?re in AP classes. And now you?re stalling on the college track. Don?t you want to be roommates?? Oh my god, she was about to cry. My making bad grades had hurt her feelings. ?Of course I do, Sarah. I failed two quizzes. Why is everything I do such a big deal nowadays?? ?Four. A major test, too,? Sarah said. She shook her head and wiped away some tears. Then we walked on. "I don't understand this at all, Ms. Komori," Mrs. Peters, the girls' guidance counselor told me in her office. She had a wrinkled horseface, and was generally pretty dorky, but everyone liked her because she was always doing crazy stunts in the name of "school spirit". Like the Student Council raffled tickets for someone to hit her in the face with a shaving cream pie during the first pep rally of the year. I heard it was hilarious, but I missed it because pep rallies fucking suck ass. Mostly, I just remembered one time Gina and I overheard her say to this black dude, ?How now, brown cow?? She was also the first person on the faculty or staff to start wearing an American flag pin on her jacket every day. "I don't understand it, either," I told Mrs. Peters. Honestly. I sat slumped in the chair, gazing out from under my shaggy, black hair. I wasn't trying to be Attitude-Girl; I just couldn't help it. I felt like I was being singled out yet again. "Well, I've been concerned about your grades since last year," Mrs. Peters continued. "But slippage like this is... especially worrisome. Despite your frequent, um... lack of interest, not so long ago, you looked like serious valedictorian competition for your friend... that red-headed girl--" "Sarah McAvoy,? I reminded her. Who was right outside the door, sitting in the student helper?s chair, waiting for another summons. I said, ?Look, I'll try harder. I promise I will." "Why don't I believe you?" Okay, fair enough. My teachers had to know I was the Queen of Bullshit. They weren?t stupid, after all. I decided to make a little speech, pull out the stops and charm Mrs. Peters. I could be oh-so-cute when I tried, just totally fucking adorable (I really made me sick). I widened my dark eyes and raised my black eyebrows so I'd look all eager and innocent, and started: "No, really. From now on, I'm going to be the old Amy Kom-" She cut me off. This was serious! "I'm going to leave you in honors classes for now, Amy. But your days of skating by are over. Do you understand me?" "No more skating. Gotcha." "No jokes. You're on thin ice here, and I don't think you understand how thin. And I don't want C's, Amy. You'd better ace your midterms, or we're going to have to put you in with the shop kids." The horror! I knew she was at least half-kidding, but just mentioning shop classes was enough to get through even to me. Okay, I just had to concentrate, and not smoke pot... as much. And completely cut out the weeknight shows and drinking. I said, ?Message received.? ?Good. Tomorrow, I want you to talk to Ms. Green, too.? I grimaced. It was an involuntary reaction. Ms. Green was going to pry into my brain and see if I was being abused or neglected or if I?d been cutting myself. She meant well but it was like she was way too caring or something. There was nothing I could do to get out of it except maybe fake sick and miss a few days. I could probably get a day off with constipation or something or even claim my period. Mom would have let me stay home, but getting that second or third day would have required Ferris Beuller level scheming and I wasn?t anywhere near being in his league. What a stupid dilemma. It steamed me. When I?d had a penis (so convinced I was a guy, how wrong I was!), and worked at the video store, my friends and I used to make up these elaborate fantasies about somehow going back to elementary school with all our knowledge intact, and all the crazy things we'd do. Score with chicks, disrespect authority, and still make killer grades so no one could fuck with us. All fun, all the time. Now that I actually living the fantasy on the girl side of life, I couldn't even go back and tell those guys how full of shit we'd been. Your high school life was subject to all the well-intentioned whims of adults. They fucking owned you. And just when you were feeling all grown up yourself, like hanging out with lit majors from the university and all, suddenly you were called into an office and made to feel like a stupid little idiot in the interest of ?it?s for your own good. And being a girl only made it twice as bad. God, we?d been stupid to think we would have control over the situation, or any situation for that matter. Those guys all needed open handed slaps to the mouth. I mean, who even knew where they were now? That had been a million years ago. When I left the office, I had to stop by Sarah?s chair. She smiled up at me, which was kind of nice for a change. I mean, being taller than Sarah. ?How?d it go?? she asked. ?I?m on double secret probation.? ?You got probation?? ?No, that was a joke. It?s from a movie.? Fuck, there was no use trying to explain it. Sarah wouldn?t get it and I?d wear my tongue out. So I skipped it hoping she wouldn?t beg me to go back and rehash ?Animal House? for her benefit. ?I?m just supposed to buckle down and put my nose to the grindstone.? ?GO BACK TO CLASS, AMY!? roared this huge masculine voice. It was Mr. Cassaday, the boy?s guidance counselor, who was also a football coaching assistant or something. He was short and round like a pumpkin but he was all manly-man and even had the mustache to prove it. He was hairy all over, with arms very apelike. The guys were all terrified of him, but the girls liked him a lot for some reason. He and I had kind of hit it off in PE the year before. He knew I was a slacker but he also could tell I kind of could move and all that so he talked to me about going out for track and field, with all this stuff about looking like a natural long-distance runner. And failing that, he told me, there was always tennis. I turned him down but we?d laughed about it and after that he called me Princess because he said I had princessy face and looked kind of snooty when I ran laps with the other girls. It was our little joke that had lasted the entirety of my life. At the moment, he wasn?t joking around and I hauled ass out of there before I got into even more hot water. Back in Mrs. Tannenbaum's Chemistry class, I reminded myself I'd already done all this once. So for the rest of the class period I did my best to emulate Scholarly Sarah. I actually took notes instead of writing song lyrics, drawing little cartoons of myself skating, or whispering little funnies to my lab partner, Gina. When the bell rang, I felt exhausted. I even had a hand cramp from drawing molecules. Oxygen had one connection, hydrogen had two, and good ol' carbon had four. As shaken up as I?d been about my falling academic stock, I found it so hard to care about the actual substance of what we were learning, and almost as hard to slog to my locker, even though I knew Tamara would be there. And she'd be all tall and brown, as sweet and tasty as a Sugar Daddy. "Damn, Amy," Tamara said when she saw me. "What'd you do, let Gina bum your last smoke again?" "I had to go see Mrs. Peters about my stupid grades. They think I'm turning retarded or something." "Your grades? I thought you were an A student." "I was. Not anymore. I fucking fail a measly three pop quizzes and they?re all spazzed out. They want to pull me out of honors classes. Maybe even out of the college prep program. Maybe I should join the army or something. That seems like the coming trend." ?Not funny.? I shuddered. Tam?s dad had been in the marines in Vietnam. That fact came back to me at the moment. He had been shot at. I was vaginally exempt from things like that. I had no manhood to prove. It was actually a relief. But then there were other dangers we were subject to, weren?t there? ?Well, three pop quizzes isn?t so bad,? Tam said, extending me a little mercy. ?I took a shit on my bio exam.? Tamara frowned and shook her head, a couple of things she rarely did. Then she grinned, and playfully tapped me on the chin with a caramel- colored fist. She told me not to sweat it, that I just needed to get my head right and pull my act together, and everything would be cool. I nodded, and the bell rang, so I grabbed my textbook and a notebook and flew down the hall to class. A few minutes after the tardy bell rang, I realized my Humanities textbook wouldn't do me a damn bit of good in Spanish class. Chapter Five: As Vampires Feed I couldn?t get out of my appointment with Ms. Green. First of all, I kind of forgot all about it until I was already at school and by then it was obviously too late to play sick with Mom. So I had to spend the morning dreading the inevitable office summons. Which came third period. So close to lunch! Having something in my stomach before the appointment would have been such a plus, but it wasn?t to be. More eyes followed me out of the room, but the office helper who came to get me was this shy Jesus loving guy who wouldn?t even talk to me all the way down the hall. I kind of knew him, or of him, which is how I knew he was a Bible Boy. And he obviously knew of me, because at that point everyone did. They knew I was queer, too. I noticed she was the only faculty or staff member not wearing an American flag pin. And then Ms. Green really picked a major topic to hit me with. It wasn?t what I was expecting at all. I mean, part of it was. She started out with the whole thing where she asked how life was going and if everything was cool at home. Any fights with my peer group, anything troubling me that would serve as a distraction. This part was, as always, super transparent and obvious. It?s like she thought I was stupid because I hadn?t grown up. It would have shocked her to know what all I did know about the world and how I came about said knowledge, not that any of it seemed to do me any good anymore. It was just there, objects in a museum. But Ms. Green herself wasn?t so clueless as to not realize I knew what she was doing. I put on kind of an act for her, played the diligent and attentive student mind. She was smart enough to see through me as I did through her. Then after we?d exhausted the necessary formalities, she started in on something else that kind of shook me up a bit. I?d just gotten finished telling her I really thought things were going well, apart from my grades, when she suddenly blurted, ?The other thing is, what?s this band you have?? That really threw me. Ms. Green knew about Silly Monkey? That little detour had been kind of painful for me. ?Oh... It?s kind of...? I didn?t know what to tell her. Now her whole face was brightening and I realized how young she actually was. Like maybe 27 or 28. Not even 30, anyways. She might have been at one of our shows for all I knew, although I?m sure I would have recognized her instantly. She must be going to someone?s shows, I realized. And reading the music paper. ?It?s just I?ve heard you guys are recording.? ?We did. Me and Sarah and Gina and Lena.? ?Sounds great.? ?It was.? ?So you?re generally feeling pretty happy with your life? Music going well?? ?I think so. Yeah.? ?Good. I?m glad to know things are going so well for you. So what you need to do is start hitting the books again.? ?Consider them hit.? ?And stop being so sassy.? Sassy? I was sassy? I almost laughed at her, but I managed not to. ?So I can go?? I asked her. It seemed like the thing to do. ?Yeah, we?re finished. Until we meet again,? Ms. Green said. The last was kind of a threat, even if she hadn?t meant it that way. I stood up and started for the door feeling relieved I was done with the authorities until my next round of screw ups. ?Oh,? Ms. Green said and I stopped. ?There?s a new club starting up this year. You might be interested.? I couldn?t think of anything I?d be less interested in than a school club. I kind of half-turned, gave Ms. Green a little noncommittal shrug and said, ?I?ll check it out.? By which I meant, ?Fuck you and your club.? Ms. Green smiled. She wasn?t buying it. She kind of spoke my language, it seemed. ?You really should.? I nodded and then got the hell out of Dodge. I hoped I hadn?t given too much away with how quickly I fumbled with the doorknob, like I was going to tear the door from the wall to escape. Well, whatwereyagonnado? Ms. Green had to know we weren?t going to spend more time with her than necessary. Inwardly, I felt kind of angry. New club? Oh god, fuck you. You don?t know anything about me. ?Did you get shit straight?? Michelle asked me at lunch. ?What shit?? I asked her, all dumb. ?Whatever you had to see Green about.? ?Oh yeah. I?m not going to kill myself after all.? ?Well, that?s good. That means there?s still a chance for me to murder you.? Gina came sliding into a seat and banged her tray down. ?We are invited to a party.? ?We?re always invited to a party,? I said, taking a bit out of the peanut butter and honey sandwich I?d chosen from the less than inspiring selection from that day?s line up. Actually, it wasn?t too bad and I kind of liked them. Peanut butter and honey. Sweet?n?salty. Chapter Six: I Bleed Tam couldn?t go. More family business. So it was just Gina, Sarah, Michelle and me. We went in Gina?s car, but we were going to sleep over at Sarah?s house in case we got high or something. Sarah?s mom was the least likely to notice red eyes. When we got the house there were cars all up and down the street so we couldn?t find a place to park. We had to drive two blocks over and walk, which wasn?t the worst thing in the world because it gave us time to kind of get into character. There were a lot people in the front yard. The house itself was a low brick ranchy kind of thing not so different from my own house, but older. The whole neighborhood was kind of an older part of the town. Not as old as the Victorian stuff just off downtown. This was more like late 50s or early 60s and someone had been buying up the houses and renting them out to college students. ?Looks pretty happening,? Michelle said. ?Is there a keg or something?? Sarah asked. ?I dunno,? Gina said. ?We can always find out.? We jumped the curb and made our way across the patchy lawn through little groups of people. Some guys and these really cool looking girls were sitting in folding lawn chairs on the front porch. I kind of hopped up the brick step and suddenly one of the guys said, ?Kids.? My friends and I all kind of looked at each other. Kids? Well, kinda. ?We know Travis,? Gina said. The guy gave us this big eyeball look, especially Michelle and me because we were the shorties and I had to admit, probably looked more like junior high kids than high school seniors. But to me, the guys and girls were no longer looking so cool. In fact, trucker caps and plaid were starting to piss me off. ?Okay,? the guy said and we went into the living room. Which was also crowded and smoky. People were sitting everywhere, including on the floor and also milling around. Like people do at parties. You could instantly smell pot in the air and they had like some kind of old Motown sounding music playing. A group of guys were huddled around a CD player and rummaging through CDs there. ?Is Travis around?? Gina asked someone. ?Backyard maybe?? the guy answered. We made our way through the crowd but I was starting to get an ugly vibe. Like we were being stared at. Off limits, out of our boundaries. The kitchen table actually had like bowls of chips and baby carrots and dips and things and a lot of plastic cups in red and blue. Michelle and I started helping ourselves to handfuls of peanuts. ?I get the feeling we?re not wanted,? Michelle muttered. ?No shit,? I told her. ?Should we leave?? Sarah asked. ?Fuck no,? I said. ?Let all these people leave. This is our party.? ?We know Travis,? Michelle said and snickered. Gina had vanished. Now I had the feeling we were out in the middle of a big deep lake or something and our little inflatable flotation device had sprung a leak, leaving us treading water. Then Gina reappeared and she looked pretty angry. ?Okay, we have to leave.? ?We just got here,? Sarah peeped. ?We have to leave right the fuck now.? ?Oh shit, she is pissed,? Michelle said, but she didn?t laugh about it because at the moment Gina looked torn between tears and murder. ?Let?s go,? she said. We began moving towards the living room and much to my surprise, I noticed there were no people there. The CD player was totally unguarded. ?Check this shit out,? I said, and I grabbed a couple of CD cases from the shelf and shoved them down the front of my shirt. Michelle?s face went all bright as if illuminated from within by wicked thoughts and Gina didn?t seem so angry anymore as much as really, really interested. Our shirts wouldn?t really hold that many, so we spent the next wild few seconds shoving CDs into Sarah?s bag as she pleaded with us to stop, but only with her moist green eyes. It was easy. Just a quick arm swipe, really. Sarah could have closed the top and stopped our thievery, but she was kind of caught between her love for us and her fear of getting into trouble. By the time we left, Sarah owned twenty- two CDs. ?I will never bring a big bag again,? she said sadly. ?No, you?ll ALWAYS bring a big bag,? I told her. ?Parties like this are a goldmine.? People began filtering back into the living room so we bolted. I had my arms kind of hugged around my stomach and I could feel my stolen CD cases?all of which I hoped still contained CDs-- stabbing them and my tummy with their pointy plastic corners. Michelle was leaving a clattering trail and people were starting to notice. At that point we broke into a full-on stampede. You could hear plastic CD cases titter-tatting on asphalt as we cut across the street and ran for all we were worth back to the car. I still had most of mine, but Michelle was down to only two. We could have run back and picked up some off the street but we didn?t dare. We needed to escape fast and getting into the car seemed to take forever. Still, no one came after us. ?Oh shit,? Gina said, laughing hard. ?That made up for everything.? ?What happened?? I asked her. ?Travis?? ?Yeah, your friend who invited us.? ?He was a dick, that?s what.? ?How was he a dick? Did he ask us to leave or something?? ?He didn?t remember inviting me.? ?What the fuck?? ?He... didn?t even remember who I was.? Michelle wanted to know where Gina met this flake. In fact, that?s what she said, ?Where did you meet this flake?? ?At the Lava Lamp. He seemed really cool.? ?Yeah, super cool. Too bad about the short term memory thing, huh?? ?Well, he was really drunk at the time.? Oh. That kind of made sense, we guessed. Then Gina said, ?I was really drunk, too.? ?Huh,? I said. ?Maybe he didn?t invite me. There were some other people and... I dunno... maybe he was telling them and I was kinda...? Her voice trailed off. ?You fuck,? Michelle said in this comically sneering tone. When we got to Sarah?s, Gina and Michelle wanted to see what we?d grabbed. We hunkered down on sleeping bags on the floor in Gina?s room and I opened my shirt hem. Music came tumbling out. Then Sarah dumped her bag. It was kind of disappointing. No one had dared take much of a look at the titles when we were stealing them. There hadn?t been enough time to justify the risk. So we came away with some Elvis Costello, a movie soundtrack to that Martin Scorsese film about Jesus, a lot of shit like Blur, Coldplay and Radiohead. Dick music for people who had dicks. ?Do you want any of these?? I asked each of my friends, since I was in charge. ?I don?t,? Michelle scoffed. ?Fuck that,? Gina agreed. ?Sarah? Since you?re our bag man. Bag girl? Whatever?? She shook her head no. So against their will, I distributed some to Gina and Michelle, but Michelle scooched back and hers fell back on her sleeping bag. ?I really don?t want those,? she said. ?Just take them, asshole,? I told her. ?Oh, fuck. Since you put it that way and called me an asshole.? She picked them up and I had to refrain from booting her in the mouth with my socked foot. The next day, Sarah and I went downtown to one of the record stores, Platters, and sold the CDs for enough for a pizza. Sarah was still kind of shaken up by the whole sordid ordeal and wasn?t hungry, so I told her we?d buy the actual pizza another time with clean money rather than dirty, and when Gina and Michelle were there. ?It?s partly theirs,? I said. ?Although Michelle is like total dogshit at stealing.? Sarah just nodded. ?Why... why do you do things like that?? ?Like what?? ?You stole all those CDs. That wasn?t nice.? That kind of froze me. What could I say? No, it wasn?t nice. It was fun. So I told her. Then I reminded her we now had enough money for a pizza large enough to feed four of us. So it seemed like justice had been served after all. Unsurprisingly, Sarah disagreed. But equally unsurprisingly, she disagreed by nodding her head as if she agreed while biting her lower lip. We decided to buy cookies instead and the best place for that was this coffee house which we had conveniently and pretty much deliberately walked towards. I held open the big wooden door for Sarah and it was heavy as an elephant it seemed. We scanned for a table where we could continue our ethical discussion. That?s the moment we spotted Ms. Green. There was no mistaking those curls. She was sitting at a table with this heavyset woman in a leather jacket. And the way they were talking and the body language it was easy to tell they were more than friends. We got out of there in this slapsticky kind of clown way, jostling each other, stifling giggles. ?Did she see us?? Sarah asked. ?I don?t think so,? I told her. We glanced back through the window, but there was a hanging fern dangling in the way so we couldn?t see Ms. Green or her partner. Our eyes, wide with wonder, met and we laughed. After a few moments, I sobered up and said, ?Well. You learn something new every day.? Not long after that, posters went up about the new LGBT-Straight Alliance club our school was starting, and Ms. Green got on TV. With no American flag pin. That?s when the nasty emails to the school started and even the principal and even Mr. Cassaday got into the act. More TV. There was this storm around Delacroix High for about a week and some of us kind of anticipated it turning national, which would have been really bizarre. I mean, seeing ourselves on like NBC or something with Tom Brokaw blabbing about what it all meant. Instead of a climax, we got kind of a fizzle. Probably the entire thing was lost in the din of a country going to war. In the end, I joined the club to make Ms. Green happy. I was kind of feeling sorry for her. She?d stood her ground in a couple of news stories and her photo had made the papers in town and I guess that made me feel kind of connected to her. Like warm feelings or something. I made Dallas join, too. We didn?t make too many meetings, but I thought it was important our names at least be on the list. I suppose I was surprised at myself. It was kind of novel feeling bad about how much I had hated Ms. Green without cause. I thought maybe I wasn?t such a brat after all.