A Fair Wager: Part 2 free porn video

A Fair Wager: Part 2 Two shadows embraced in the dark. The air around them was warm and musky, and whatever pitch-black surface the shadows laid on was velvety soft. Too much so, almost inviting one to rest upon it, to envelope them in it comfort. The dark obscured the shadowed figures features, though one seemed taller, more masculine. Whist the other was tiny, frail, fair, and wrapped around its counterpart. Only intangible whispers could be heard, losing clarity as they echoed out into the unknown. What the shadows were doing, I could not say. Either seeking comfort in their closeness, allaying each other woes, or perhaps expressing their affection for one another. In any case, I could sense they felt secluded, secure, and most importantly, safe together. Flash! A swarm of spotlights suddenly rain of from above, blinding lights casting away the darkness in an instant. Sirens roared, their source unknown and their high pitching ringing all surrounding. The array of beams scattered across the space in a hectic manner, yet then converges on the shadows in the center, bringing them into frightening illumination. Two men, cladded in uniform, faces obscured, came up behind the taller shadow and pried him off me. Wait, me!? I looked down and realized I was there, lying on the floor, wearing nothing but black lace lingerie. Before I could even react, another masked man snuck up on me and forced my arms behind my back. I felt the icy grip of stainless- steel wrap around my wrists as my assailant screamed into my ear "You're under arrest! Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law!" I was panicking now, and my head snapped to the side to see the other shadow, who I now recognized as a stark-naked Rich, straining against his own handcuffs as he is slowly dragged away from me. Then I jerk upward, and against the still blinging spotlights, and can make out faces staring down at me. Many faces, some of which look familiar. I can make out Dad, Mom, Carla, all aghast at the display before them. I see my classmates, my teachers, Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright, the President, Dave Grohl - all with either disgust or mockery in their cold stares at my almost nude body. They see the sliver nail polish on my toes, the lace brassiere hanging form my shoulders, the pigtails in my hair. They see the sensuous stockings tracing up my hairless legs, the garter straps tied together in neat bows. They see black thong barely hanging around my waist, with an obvious bulge underneath it threatening to be unveiled. I'm paralyzed. I can't stand - I can't think - I can't scream with fear closing off my throat, air unable to reach my aching lungs. Another masked man, a police officer, looms over me with a notepad in hand, shouting unintelligible orders to me. After what seems like an eternity of shame, I'm able to parse out one instruction. "State your name and address." My name? The officer glares at me behind his glasses, impatient for an answer. My name? I should know that, shouldn't I? Why can't I think of it right now? I need to be quick, or else it's all over for me. My name! Oh God, what the hell is my name!? I move my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, only rasps. Tears start pouring from my eyes. The officer shakes his head, then pulls out a flashlight to beam in directly into my eyes. The world goes bright. I wake up screaming, drenched in sweat. I hyperventilate for 3 solid minutes as I pan around my room in the dark. I wipe my brow off with my pillow as I realize I'm at home, and I'm safe. I look down and see my naked body, wondering what I must have done to warrant such a vivid nightmare. I didn't sneak in any alcohol last night, did I? No, I just hung out with Rich and - oh. Oh no... Sunday was a cold one. I had forgotten to shut windows when I went out, so a chill wind had permeated the house and seeped into my room. I was laying on top on my bed covers with only a bath towel wrapped around me, leaving me defenseless from the pervading cold. After another session of heavy breathing, I calmed down and mustered myself off the bed and onto a heap on the floor. My wall clock read 5 AM, which wasn't the norm for me on Sundays. I didn't mind the early awakening though. I had plenty to do that morning before Mom, Dad, & Carla came back. And I didn't want to risk dreaming again. I stood up and glanced myself over. My baby-smooth skin partially explained why my sleep was so fitful last night. Coupled with the left- over flakes of nail polish on my toes and fingers, it was difficult to forget the other reason why, despite my efforts to. My bedroom door was ajar, with a wet trail leading from it to the bathroom. Sticking my head out the frame, I saw another trail blazed with discarded clothing along the stairs. Shaking my head, I set up prepping myself for the day ahead, praying for it to be a quiet one. Well, maybe not totally quiet. I couldn't find my phone at its usual resting spot upon my desk, so I booted on my laptop and opened Spotify. Browsing through my catalog, I quickly spotted one of my favorites; Alice in Chains' 'Facelift.' Perfect. I was in dark mood, and I needed something heavy to distract me from my discordant thoughts. Screeching guitar riffs and scathing vocals accompanied me as I went about cleaning up the house. I dressed in only my thermals and a hoodie, hoping something from my closet would aid in making me feel normal again. Collecting the clothes off the steps and setting the house straight was short work. Tiding up Carla's room was not. I tried my best to organize and rehang all the clothes I borrowed, making sure I left them is the same positions I lifted them from. I took meticulous measures to ensure her makeup collection was arranged exactly as it was yesterday, even replacing her mascara with some of Mom's stockpile. I doubled checked my reflection in the mirror to see if I looked suitably boyish enough, and aside for a bit of extra sheen to my hair, I seemed fine. I stuffed Wallace in a black trash bag labeled "For Donation" and tossed it my closet, fearing that just looking at it would bring up unwanted memories. And yet, those thoughts persisted. Not even a live performance from Layne and Jerry at my house themselves could have drown out the thumping of my heart, as the events of last night looped in my mind. As I scrubbed off the remaining glitter from my fingers in acetone, I drifted back to why I'd worn it in the first place. Rich. God damn it Rich, why did you have to make that stupid dare!? Why didn't you laugh me out of house of home, and instead encouraged my reckless behavior? Why did you have to be so irritatingly nice to me yesterday? Why did you have to be so damn close!? It's all his fault that I'm... I'm compromised like this. That I made the same mistake as he did. Maybe one kiss we could have walked back from. Say that we got it out of our system, and we could laugh about it later as buddies. But two kisses? No, no one could let that slide. Something was severely wrong with between us now. I have never had romantic thoughts about boys before, and I had no intention of holding such in the future. No offense to the gay community, but I just wanted to be normal. Or better yet, I didn't any attention or hassle in my life. I wanted to go under the radar throughout high school and bide my time until I was confident enough to ask a girl out. I wasn't interested in getting a girlfriend right now as Rich was; it sounded like drama. At least, that's what I told myself. Yet, here I am, deep in the middle of Drama City and at risk of losing either my best friend, my grip on my own identity, or both. When I think back to the fair though, to that accidently "date night," it didn't even feel like it was 'me' kissing Rich. It was Bella, the false girl that somehow did not have the same insecurities I had. She was lively, she was outgoing, strangers seemed to like interacting with her more. In some ways I admired that; but at the risk of falling for Rich? No way was I going to allow that to happen again! And it won't, right? If Rich sticks to his promise, no one will know about it her either. Can I trust him to do that? Ugh, I can't even trust that we'll remain friends after this! I groaned out loud to myself as I rinsed glitter and lacquer down the sink. My family arrived back at about 4 pm. My thoughts were still jumbled up, but I did my best to hide that as I greeted Mom at the door. She asked how I had been, worried that I may have starved or burnt the house down or something. I gave her my prepared spiel about how I just hung out with Rich all day and went to the fair for an hour or two, nothing special. Then I spun it around and asked her about the trip. Dad was busy hauling a box full of university merch though the door frame as Carla scooted past him, tossed a perfunctory "hi" my way, and rushed up stairs. Mom went on and on about the campuses they visited, dorm pricing, meal plans, "educational commitment", yada, yada. I couldn't care less but pretended to make the effort to avoid her asking me any more questions. If any of them noticed anything off or different about me, they didn't bring it up, so perhaps I was in the clear. Back in my room, I tried to get some homework done, with Alice in Chains still blast away in my headphones. However, I couldn't really bring myself to write about Galapagos islands or the shape of finch beaks at the moment. Frustrated, I laid back on my bed and checked my phone, which I had found in the purse I had flung away in a flurry yesterday. Rich had called once that morning and texted me an hour later. I must have missed the ringing due the all the music blaring in the background and was grateful for that. [U okay? we need to talk, call me] I didn't feel like talking to him right then. I didn't feel like talking to him ever. I knew it was rude to kiss and run, and I'm sure Rich had plenty of valid questions to ask me, but I had zero answers to give him. Or perhaps, I was afraid of the answer I might give if I were to let my guard down to soon. I texted back. [Need time. I'll see you at band tomorrow] Hoping that would suffice, and knowing that it would not, I once again drifted into an uneasy sleep. Unfortunately, Monday also went off to a bad start, as I shuffled through the halls to 1st period. I tried to go about my daily routine of skulking about and hiding in the back of class. Yet despite me doing so for most of my adolescence, I felt a pressing need to take extra precautions avoiding of my peer's notice. Perhaps it was just because I was dreading confronting Rich later, but today my social anxiety felt especially nerve-wracking. Maybe because I truly had something to hide about myself this time. As if anyone could tell I dressed as a girl during the weekend just from a wayward glance. No way - I had triple- checked my myself in the mirror that morning to make sure. Nada, zip. I was just regular gool-old Benji, the ignorable. Though I did notice just how unmasculine my regular self was. No wonder.... Thus, by the time the bell rang for 5th period, my nerves were shot and my mood sour. I walked into the auditorium with clarinet case in hand and made a beeline for my usual seat. Our group had a big performance lined-up in less than two weeks, so everyone was worked up in a whirldwind of high-strung energy memorizing their sheet music, making it easy for me to go by unnoticed. Well, unnoticed by everyone except Rich, who was standing around my seat, tapping his foot and scanning the crowd until he spotted me. He almost ran up, but the rows of folding chairs blocked his path, so he just waved, the sax around his neck swinging wildly alongside him. I sighed. Well at least he didn't seem mad about me running off on him, yet Rich being almost giddy to see me didn't assuage my fears either. I scooted into my chair and bent down to unlock my instrument, avoiding eye contact. "Hey Benji! You doin' okay? Hope so, I hadn't heard much from you yesterday. Not that I was waiting for a response or anything - I'm fine! In fact, I'm feeling great! Really happy you're my friend and everything. But ugh... just checking on you since after the... um... well we don't have to talk about that right now. But we're cool, right? Still buddies, buddy?" Rich starts blabbering when he gets really excited about some new prospect or hot chance. Like the time he thought he could score Foo Fighters concert tickets for us for dirt cheap, somehow missing they a year past expired until after he bought them. Or when he was cast as understudy for a school play and overheard that the lead was going on a ski trip over the weekend. I rolled me eyes from where Rich couldn't see, and then straightened up to face him again. So what opportunity was he fantasizing about this time? "Yeah, I'm okay Rich," I replied. "Did you practice the new sheet music, the Maria von Weber stuff? Looks pretty complex." "Uh, sure, but more importantly I know some weird stuff happened last time, I just wanna let you know now I'm cool with whichever way you swing man. It's fine, I was questioning myself too back there, but I made a decis-" "Rich please, we went to the fair, played video games, normal stuff. Now hand me, your sax, I think you inserted your reed backwards again." I tried to keep an aloof demeanor to bolster my claims, but Rich wasn't taking the hint and kept on pressing. Rich leaned in, whispering now. "Dude, aren't you forgetting something?" Class was finally coming to session at this point, risking our chances of being overheard. The instructor, Mr. Glascove, stood at his well- worn podium, looking from frazzled after the weekend than usual. "I know said I wouldn't bring up the kiss Saturday night, but-" I snapped at him. "Nothing happened Saturday night, and if you want to stay friends, you better leave at that, Okay?" I didn't expect myself to get this testy with Rich this morning, but I felt my sanity was on the line, at I couldn't let Rich get the wrong impress of me. "What, seriously? You can't just ignore that we both kissed each other back there" "Watch me." "Look, I know it was strange, alright. Completely unexpected, not what you asked for, I get that totally." "Then why won't you drop it?" "Because I want to reassure you that if ever decide to, uh, dress again, I wouldn't be against it. That's all." Oh god, this couldn't be happening right now! Is Rich trying to justify it? Was he that much of a horndog to not see how completely depraved the act was? Why? Did he... like it? I reached out for his sax again and yanked it down on hard, pulling him even closer. I did my best to ignore the cologne he was wearing, or how his hazel eyes lit up when startled by my brashness. My deliberately messy hair parted in the commotion, revealing the death stare I hoped to inflict on him. "Don't get it twisted," I snarled. "I'm not some fag or sissy, okay? That kiss was a mistake and nothing more. I'm trying to be nice here, but if you attempt any funny business, we're through. I don't swing any way. I'm normal, understand? Normal!" "Excuse me! Mr. Cartwright! Mr. Graziano! I hope I'm not interrupting, but I am trying to begin class over here. If you have something you find more important that you'll like to discuss, you can it take to the Principal office." Damn, I must have gotten too heated. Mr. Glascove and the rest of class were now staring at us. I let go of Rich, and he promptly spoke up for the both of us as he adjusted his collar. "Uh, no, sir! Benji was just helping me with my reed here. We'll be quiet now." "Glad to hear it, Mr. Cartwright," said Mr. Glascove, his hand massaging his temple as if to address a migraine, hangover, or both. "Now if we can begin, everyone please flip over to page 26, and we'll start from the top." Rich made small glance at me then sat back down, a clear grimace on his face. Breathing out a deep sigh of relief, I turned my attention back to my clarinet. The rest of class went smooth enough, despite the fact Rich and I didn't talk at all during it. Or perhaps because of that. Before we adjourned, Rich made a reach for me, but then shook his head and lowered his arm. Whatever was between wasn't resolved, that was clear. For the time being though, I guess we both made the choice to avoid each other until we were ready to talk about it. Fine by me, yet I was still annoyed that Rich wasn't as willing to let it go as I was. The rest of school was dull as usual, my mood at an all-time low. Normally I would hitch a ride with Rich, but obviously that wasn't the cards for today. Left with few other options, I waited in line behind the baseball field to take my chances with the afternoon bus. Surprisingly enough, I found Carla and her posse there, which is odd since they all usually went to a study session after school. Even more surprisingly, she seemed to be waiting for me. She spotted me in the crowd and sashayed up towards me, drawing more needless attention my way. "Oh, hey little bro! So nice to see you, I don't often catch you riding the bus here. Did Star-Boy's car break down again? I hope not!" Carla's cheerful demeanor sounded even more sickening sweet today, somehow. "No, just felt like taking the bus." "That's cool. The bus is a great opportunity to meet new friends and such, that's how me and Cassandra meet all the way back in 5th grade." "Whatever," I muttered back, wishing this exchange would end soon. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Carla Graziano was a model straight-A student. Social butterfly, captain of the Girls' Soccer team, Red-Cross volunteer, and a shoo-in for valedictorian according to her at the dinner table. When she wasn't getting on her teachers' good sides or winning awards, she was the center of every gathering, the apple of every boys' eye and the envy of all her friends. I even caught Rich sneaking peeks at once and while when he would come over for band practice. No boyfriend though, says that they'll only weigh down her ambitions, and Carla was one to aim for the top. Superstars like her aren't supposed to hang with dreglings like me. The fact that she was even talking to me was putting her social standing at risk. So why?... "Do you need something? I'm kinda busy right now." I said, glancing back at the empty road, hoping the bus around the corner to save me from more hassle. She scanned me over, as if calculating whether or not me standing around in a line really counted as "busy." She tilted her head and smiled again, making me shiver a bit. "Not too busy for your big sister, I hope! Come on, I hardly see you around school. Let's ride the bus home together and catch up!" "Huh? Don't you have friends you should be with right now? A match to practice for? Cats to recuse out of trees?" She laughed at that one, though it sounded to me more like a placatory laugh rather than because she found it funny. She turned over her shoulder and cupped her hands around her mouth to call out to her friends, who were idling about in the school parking lot. "I catch you all later, I'm heading home with my brother, okay?" she yelled out. I saw some waves and a few thumbs up in the distance, then all started packing into the nearest vehicle together. She whipped back to me. "They're cool with it. I told them all the plan earlier anyways." "Wait, what 'plan?' What are you up to, Sis?" "Oh, not much. Just a hunch I need to follow through on. Something about last Saturday. You might know about it." My heart rate quickened. Oh no, did she find out about me using her stuff? How!? Did forget something? I washed all the clothes, hung them all up properly. I even buffed out and scratch marks on the shoes. There's no way - unless Rich told her? He wouldn't screw me over like that, would he? Maybe she has the wrong idea, perhaps she found something else amiss. Either way, I need to make sure she zips her mouth shut, 'else I can never live this down. Wild theories and wilder emotions flooded my thoughts as the afternoon bus finally came to stop in front of us. A sly grin crept upon Carla's face as she waited patiently for my response. "Okay fine, you can come along, but for the love of god don't try to draw any attention." I whispered. I tried to add a hint of menace to my command, but it came out sounding more frightened instead. Carla complied, and hopped right behind me as the line shuffled forward. After boarding, I made my way to the back, hoping to be out of earshot of anyone in case Carla let something slip. Carla stuck behind me, smiling the whole way through. The secret truth is that she can be quite vindictive when she knows her has the upper hand. Many years of sibling rivalry have drilled it into my head; don't cross her path unless you have an ace up your sleeve or a parent to run to. Unfortunately, neither were at my side now. I sat down, unable to relax, and stared at my palms as if the answer to all my problems would materialize within them. Carla plopped down beside me and began speaking. "So, care to tell me exactly what you were up to while I was away?" "Like I said to Mom, nothing much. We played video games like always, then we went to the fair." "Sure, I can believe those parts, but that isn't the full story now, is it Benji?" "I don't know what you're going on about. Look, if you don't have anything better to do, Carla, could you please at least leave me out of your games?" She flipped one of her bangs back behind her ear, brushing off my comment. "If you insist, but am I curious to know why you went into my room and fiddled with my belongings?" Better play this cool. I wasn't sure what she found, but I can't let her think I was the cause. "Huh? I have zero reason to mess with your junk?" "On the contrary, I have some pretty conclusive evidence that you did. Why though, I haven't quite figured out yet. I was hoping you'd explain." "I'm not explaining shit until I see that evidence of yours." My anxiety was rising, and I hoped Carla couldn't see the sweat running down my forehead. Thank God for my mop top. "Watch your temper, Benji. A pond's still surface hides its secrets better. After all, shouldn't I be the angry one here? Coming back after an exhausting trip to find my wardrobe in disarray, my neatly folded pants all bunched up and stuffed in a hurry." "So, you're blaming me for your room being a mess? I thought you're supposed to be a grown-up now. Or are you saying I was rooting away for something in there. As if! You got nothing that interests me." "Unless that something is nail polish remover? Apparently, half the contents of a freshly opened bottle I'd left had simply disappeared while I wasn't there." Damn, I silently swore to myself for my rookie mistakes, but at least this one I could explain away better. I bolstered up as much confidence as I could into my next answer. "I don't know, it's acetone, right? That stuff evaporates if you leave it out too long. You said you opened it? Well, there's your answer." Carla shook he head slightly, still smug in her confidence. "Maybe, but a half a bottle's worth in 2 days? I'm not buying it." "You don't have it buy it; you just have to leave me alone." She's being too persistent; she must have something else under her sleeve. But what? Think, Benji, Think! What else could you have forgotten to stow away? "Not until we get to the bottom of this, little bro. Now, not only was my wardrobe a mess and my stuff tampered with, but someone had the nerve to impart grease stains all over my brand new pure white Guess coat. Serious ones too, all over the tooshie region. Now where could those come from, I wonder? The slimy seat of a good pal's busted clunker perhaps..." "No way, you're lying, I washed that thing twice over, I never saw...." Carla's eyes shone brilliantly. She had been waiting for this moment, and I fell for her bait hook, line, and sinker. "Shit." Carla sat back and basked in her triumph, crossing her legs - which was a feat in it of itself considering the lack of leg room available. "You're right, there were no grease stains, no stains at all really. But your mention of washing my coat gives context to my first clue. You see, being brand new, I hadn't worn it before. I had no intention of wearing in fact; I had planned to return the coat after coming back. Just didn't fit my style is all. However, when I went to check on it, I'd found that the price tag was missing, either yanked off by some mischievous ne'er- do-well or lost the wash." "Carla, I had noth-' She cut me off. "Next were the 2 Cedro County Fair ticket stubs I found in my purse." Her hand flew up and flung in my face the tickets. The smoking guns themselves, armed to shoot another round in the beaten corpse that was my remaining dignity. I hung my head, defeated, as Carla's eyes sparkled in victory. The gloating tone in her voice was unmistakable, unescapable. "So Benji, what did you do last weekend?" "Please, it really isn't any of your business to-" "It's my stuff, my room. Or course it's my business! Spit it out little bro, else I'll tell Mom and Dad my theory of the events, and you wouldn't want." I debated a bit in my head if Carla's guess at what had happened would be better or worse than actuality, but eventually I caved in. Better to die on your sword, I guess. "Okay, okay, I tell you." I peeked over the bus seats to see if anyone had been eavesdropping on our argument so far. Coast seemed clear, and I took in a long, deep breath, the rancid pit-drenched stank of the bus's upholstery being the least of my concerns now. 'Promise me you keep it between us okay?" "Ooh sounds scandalous! Did you bring a girl over or something?" "Promise me! And no, I didn't" "Okay, Okay, I promise, scout's honor. Now spill the beans! What, or who, were you trying to cover up for?" Stalling for time, I checked outside the window. The winding narrow streets and the various hues of stucco of the neighboring houses told me that we were 5 minutes away from our stop. Not feeling entirely safe unveiling my secret to Carla while we're still in public, in case she got any bright ideas to humiliate me on the spot, I said I'll tell her once we got home. She was clearly irritated at how stubborn I was being, but she agreed. I imagine the suspense as to what heinous act her brother could have possibly done that needed this much discretion was gnawing at her. Seeing as she had already won, she was willing to pardon this act of cowardliness. The walk home was more of a brisk jog due, ending with both of us bursting through the door at the same time. Dad was home mulling about in the kitchen and saw us sprinting up the stairs two steps at a time. "Hey, hardly see you two here so early, or together. How was school, everything dandy?" "Just peachy, Daddy, gotta run bye! Come on, Benji," said Carla as she went span off the banister at the top of the stairs and slipped into her room. Dad raised an eyebrow at that, and then eyed me, still mid-way up. I hesitated, thinking Dad needed some sort of explanation. "School was fine, Dad. Uh...Carla's helping me with a project right now, I'll tell you about it later." "Alrighty then, call down if you need help. What class is it for?" Being an accountant at one of the larger local firms, Dad figured himself as a know-it-all, and although he was a vital resource for math homework, he was often bumbling at anything else he took a crack at. Jeez, why do parents insist on being helpful and stuff when you need them the least? "History, Dad. It'll be okay, we'll be done shortly. Later." I turned the corner and locked Carla's door behind me. I took in another deep breath before spinning around and facing my sister. She was waiting, perched upon her, fingers drumming on her thighs, anxious as hell to finally get her reward. Tossing my backpack towards the door, I slummed into the chair near her vanity, the same one I had used last time to become Bella. "So, out with It!" "Again, not so loud." I shifted in place a bit, unsure how to broach the topic, or how much I really should divulge. "Okay, like I said - Rich came over on Saturday to play some video games together, that all we really had planned for afternoon. It's just that - you know how Rich gets all competitive and stuff, making stupid bets?' "How you BOTH get? Star-boy and you are always up to dumbest things. Don't think I forgot the time you two were caught dumpster diving behind the grocery store? I had to come bail you from the managers because you were too afraid to fess up to Mom?" "For the last time we weren't dumpster diving! We were shoot a video and - whatever that not the point. The point is, Rich and I made another dumb bet, with him having teach me how to drive in his dad's car-" "And you?" Guess there was no avoiding it now. I hung my head down in shame and grumbled out "...And me having to dress up like a girl." "For real? Seriously? You came into my room looking for an outfit to wear?" "Look, I'm sorry I broke your privacy and borrowed your stuff without permission. I swear I'll never do it again, so please don't tell-" "Oh my god, what did you wear?!" Carla interrupted sharply. "What?" "I mean, I know about the coat, but what else? Shoes? Jeans? Hair?" Well, this wasn't how I expected things to go. Carla didn't seem mad by confession at. Instead, her were eyes beaming with delight. However, that didn't mean I was in clear yet. No, far from it, judging by sibling intuition. "Uhm... why do you want to know? They're all already clean if that's what you're wondering," I stammered out. "Because this is totally priceless! Ridicule material like this only comes once in a lifetime!" Carla began to laugh, hands holding at her sides as if they were splitting. "Gosh, I bet you looked like a hot mess in them too, judging from your drab fashion sense." She straightened up a bit, then clapped her hands authoritatively. "I need details, stat!" she commanded. Begrudgingly I started pulling out the clothes I so painstakingly tried to hide away back out and onto the bed beside Carla. Having to explain my misdeed to her was hard enough, but having look at each frilly feminine article I had donned made me sick to my stomach. I was reliving a night I desperately wanted to forget, but now in front of an audience. However, Carla still had the upper hand on me. I wasn't all that confident she'd would keep her promise of confidentiality until she was satisfied with my answer yet. So, if flashing her some of her own panties was what it took to keep her quiet, then so be it. And, although I knew it shouldn't have had, her remark about me looking like a "hot mess" wounded my ego a bit. Thinking back, I thought my choice of outfit okay was for a first - and last - attempt. Better than okay, that was my entire issue right now. But perhaps the person who owned them would know better than me. As I pulled out each piece - the red sweater, the belt, the sandals - Carla's excitement heighten. She seemed to be saving comment until the whole ensemble was on display, but I could tell a million words a minute were flying through her head as I gently laid the white skirt down. Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets when the bra and yoga shorts came to join it, but she remained silent. Finally, I took out the hairband and stood there, hoping this was the end of it. Carla just stared the bed, as she entranced by the display. The silence was getting awkward, so I stared mumbling. "So yeah, that's about it, aside from the makeup stuff. I just used the ones you left out last." "An awful lot for a dare..." Carla wasn't facing me as she spoke, eyes still gluing to the apparel. She seemed to be lost be in thought, almost forgetting I was in the room with her. Probably imagining what I looked like in all of it. Maybe I could use that to my advantage? "I guess. Figured I'll try to make it convincing, or whatever. Is that all?" I kept my voice quiet as to not break her concentration. "Nice color pairing too..." She said more to the air, than to me. Seeing this a decent opportunity to slink away to my room, I slowly backed towards the door. My hand was on the knob about to twist when Carla sudden spun about and jumped towards me. "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart! You HAVE to model it for me!" Red Alert! "That wasn't part of the deal, Carla!" Carla batted her lashes in a mock-attempt at looking innocent. "Oh, so you can't do a favor for your loving, kind-hearted big sister, but you'll doll yourself up like a princess if Star-boy asks?" "It's not like that!" I caught myself yelling before quickly quieting down a bit. Both of us sat and waited to make sure Dad hadn't notices, but the only commotion we heard downstairs was the news station rattling off. I continued my protest in hushed tones. "I... I just promised myself I wouldn't wear stuff like that again." "What part of blackmail do you not understand? You can't just leave me hanging like this, or else Mom, Dad, and Instagram are gonna find out too. Put it on." "I'm not letting you ruin my life like that, sis." "Hmmm. Must have been a bad night to get you so spooked a bra. Tell me all about it while we get you pampered, Sis." I groaned my hardest that day as Carla dragged me by the hand back to her bed and into my nightmares once again. "Jeez Benji, hold still, unless you want liner smears all over your face." Carla was standing above me, mascara in hand, as she swiftly more to my half-finished complexion. I was held captive, sitting at her vanity in a recreation of my weekend look, few slight alterations from to Carla's critical eye. Another weak rebuttal stumbled out of my mouth. "I don't want any of this, you know that." In truth, the fight had long since been beaten out of me, as I was resigned to my fate of being her personal manikin for a few more agonizing minutes. My head was drooping to the side though, as I was exhausted from school earlier and all this unnecessary girl-time was cutting heavily into my sleeping & eating schedule, not to mention homework. Carla didn't seem too bothered by the lapsed time though, diligently straightened folds and untangling my hair into prim and proper shape. Whatever kick she was on after discovering my secret, she was have way too much fun with it. I feared that might not be the last time she has me at her vanity. "You've said it at least thousand times in the past 20 minutes, so sure, although I kinda doubt that. Just look how cute you are already! Who wouldn't want see this in the mirror every day?" "Just get it over with." I could have sworn it didn't take me this long the first time. "Okay now for the finishing touch! You said used the lip gloss before? Well, I have this rosewater satin lipstick which would work wonders on maximizing your pout, or this berry lip stain that gels better with the red of the headband. Which do you prefer? "Does it matter? The first one I guess." "Rosewater it is then! Good choice, perhaps I misjudged your taste too soon. Pucker up please." Carla squeezed my cheeks together and swiped the lipstick on, with me hating ever second of it. Once she found them sufficiently waxy, she spun my chair around and made confront my reflection. And there she was, Bella anew. Similar enough what I looked like before, but I couldn't help but notice some small improvements. My lips did indeed seem fuller, and Carla's cosmetic skills had tapered away more of the harsh angles my chin. Although, the miserable expression on my face stifled the glamor a bit. Carla wasn't put off my that though, and instead admired her handiwork with oh-so aggravating glee. "Like the sister I never had! Gosh, why hadn't we done this before? You're positivity stunning, Cinderella! Even I might be a little envious. If course I didn't already know the truth, that is." I stood up and started pacing the room, immediately itching to rip of it off. "So graceful too, did you practice in heels for this?" I tried my best to ignore her teasing and pointed a question her way instead. "That's it! I'm officially embarrassed to the core, happy now? Are we done here; I've got stuff to do too, you know?" "Not quite. You told me about the dare, but that doesn't explain the tickets being in my purse yet?" When was this torture going to end? "Okay, yes, Rich and I went to the fair together with me dressed like this. And no, I didn't plan to, I just kinda fell into it. After he took me out to driving practice, he figured we should swing by the fair for a spell. I told him a million times that I'd rather die than be seen out in public like this, but I guess it didn't register through his thick skull." "Well, considering I haven't heard back from the authorities that A) you died or B) a boy was caught snooping around the fair in his sister's clothes, it sounds like the night was a success, right?" "Well, partially. I didn't get caught or anything. I'd blame more it on the poorly lighting there than anything... but I'd hardly call it a success." "Why not? Oh, did something go sour between you and Star-boy? I sensed some vitriol towards him from you earlier" "That's one way to put it. Let's just things went too far, and we aren't exactly on speaking terms right now." Carla's sly smile was suddenly replaced in by a stern grimace. "Benji," she uttered in an affectionate but serious tone, her arms crossed. "If Rich touched you or done anything inappropriate to last night without your permission, don't be embarrassed to tell me or anyone. Jokes aside, if he hurt you in any way I can-" "Sis, simmer down. I'm okay, Rich would never do anything like that. I'm fine, honest! What I was trying to say as that Rich may have gotten too caught up in the dare and may have forgotten I was wearing a costume, that's all." "And what, does that mean exactly?" said Carla, still on alert mode. "Well..." I paused for a moment, hesitating on where this train of thought would end up at. For what it's worth, my dressing right now may have sated Carla's lust vengeance against me. In fact, she seemed to be taking the whole "Bella" thing rather well, even complimenting my style choice. Perhaps she could be more understanding than I thought. The mess between Rich and me, I wasn't sure I could untangle it all on my own. This wasn't how I envisioned this conversation going, buy maybe Carla might have some useful advice on the matter. Better yet, the drama might distract her attention away from publicly shaming me any further. At least for now. I settled alongside her on the bed, my ankles now killing me from my all my rapid, needless strutting in heels. "Well to keep up appearances, Rich and I sorta pretended we were a couple. You know, to blend in better with the crowd. And so, we ended up standing close to each other. Some hugging, a few stray touches here and there, but nothing that meant anything really." "In that outfit, it'll be tough for any boy to resist putting their hands on you. Again, nice choice. I bet Star-boy was flustered by you the whole night, wasn't he?" Images of Rich's profuse blushing that day sprang to mind as I suddenly realized just how many warning signs I totally ignored. Was I really this clueless? "Quiet, Carla, please! That wasn't my intention at all... it's just that... I didn't really mind the extra attention at first. The truth is, I was having a great time with Rich, up until the end." "How'd it go south then?" "He... um kissed me..." "Kissed you? Like a so-so kiss? Or a 'Kiss' kiss?" "It only lasted for a couple of seconds, and he apologized immediately afterwards, but yeah... it was a real kiss. Or it seemed to be, I'm not so sure. God, that was my first kiss ever! We went home immediately after that." "So, that's why you two aren't are talking terms right now. I thought you said he apologized - you didn't accept it?" "No, I did. If it was just a one-time thing, we could have ignored it and played it off as accident, or a spur of moment joke..." "Buuuuut?" "...But then I kissed him again on the way out." I buried my face into my palms, tears balling down my face, ruining Carla's hard work of my face. "I everything messed up! Rich won't see me the same way ever again! We can't be friends anymore, Carla. How am I ever gonna explain what happened there when I don't even know myself?!" Carla gave a minute to cry myself out, as clearly, I'd been holding back a tidal wave of guilt all day. I felt a warm hand fall upon the small of my back as mascara-stained tears bleed in the comforter beneath me. After the sobbing had quieted down, Carla piped up again with her most ridiculous question yet. "So... did you like it?" "What?" "The kiss, did you like it" "Why you would even ask that? Can't you see I'm a mess right now?" "I know, but an important part of the healing process in looking where we went wrong and being honest with ourselves. You can repair what you once had until you understand where it broke apart." "But..." I said, wiping at my puffy eyes with shaky hands. Carla pulled out a white handkerchief seemingly out of nowhere and handed it to me. I nodded a thank you, dabbed away at my face for a moment and continued. "...But it's such a silly question. I'm a guy. I'm not supposed to like kissing other guys, and I never wanted to before. And yet, I did. And... and... and I can't stop thinking about how wonderful that moment felt. How obviously wrong, yet torturously sweet that kiss was. I fully lost control of myself there, Carla, I can never let that happened again. But Rich doesn't get it! He thinks there something there which totally shouldn't be! I tried to break the truth to him, that whatever he's thinks is happening between us can never be, but he's still hanging on. He still sees be a girl that doesn't exist. And even worse, I can't see him in the same light either. Little shivers of temptation run up spine just from eye-contact. It's hell! I can't handle this! I feel like there's this ticking time-bomb between us! That eventually this catastrophic urge will sneak up on us again and I won't be able to stop myself. I just want to go back to friends with him, Carla. I just want to go back to being normal, that's all..." I found myself panting, out of breath when my frantic rambling finally came to an end. Wow, did I really just admit all that to her? I hadn't even realized I'd felt that way, but know that's it was out there, I knew it was 100% precent true. I had like that kiss, and I did have some unexplainable feelings for Rich. But I also knew those feelings would send be astray on a path I just couldn't follow. After 15 years of thinking I was myself, I can't abandon all that after only one hectic night, could I? Gosh, Carla must think I'm a loon for sure now. Speaking of, I noticed I hadn't heard a response from her yet, not even a murmur of support. Looking up, I saw her up and about, pacing the room like had. I was suddenly nervous - did I say something wrong? Does she hate me now that I've laid it all bare, that her brother may harbor some volatile homosexual thoughts and she can't abide by that? Or could she not figure anything out to help? Maybe she considering telling our parents, possibly sending for a therapist. I didn't need that, did I? The less people know about this the better. It was already a gamble to put this much trust in her in the first place. Maybe it was mislaid. "I'm sorry, Carla, for all this. It's getting late, and I should get out of for hair now. I'm just going to go to wash up and head to bed, if you don't mind..." Carla held a hand to stop me and smiled, the trademark twinkling eyes at full blast. "Benji, thanks for being so honest with me. I may have a plan to help you out of this. A solid one at that. I know a thing or two about rejecting a boy's advances, although I never expected I'll have to share them with you." "Really? Thank you so much Carla, that means the world to me." "I have two condition though. One: whatever I say, you have to follow through 'til the end, else I won't help you again." I that worried me a bit, but I had no choice. I was already at her mercy anyways, and Carla sounded supremely confident right now. "Sure, I'm getting nowhere fast on my own." "Two, and this is the big one: Are you sure don't want to explore anything between you and Rich? I'm not saying you should, it's up to you ultimately. However, I will say that I won't judge you at all if you lean the other way, I'll always love you regardless of your choice." "Please Carla, I need this dead and dealt with." "Very well, first let's- Carla and I jumped as we heard Dad's clap his hands together from behind the door. "Carla, Benjamin, dinner's ready. I made lasagna!" "Thanks goodness I locked the door," whispered Carla, palpable relief on her face. "Shoot, we'll talk about this later. You need to start looking more like a Benjamin and less like a Cinderella. I'll distract Dad." "Thanks, Carla." "Oh please, thee pleasure is all mine. I just love solving a good mystery. And oh, boy, this is gonna be the most fun I've had all year!" She stuck her neck out the door and yelled back "I'll be down in a second, Dad." "Get is before it's cold! I made garlic bread too." Damn, my favorite. I nodded thanks once more before deftly making my escape into the bathroom. My outlook on things suddenly felt a bit brighter, and I even noticed a small smile had snuck up on my me after seeing my reflection in the mirror. So, for the time being, my secret was safe with Carla, and I even had a chance of getting my old friendship back with Rich. Fhew! Worry still lingered about what exactly this plan would entail, but for the first time that day, I had some hope for the future. Bella smiled back at me, which was ironic considering I had every attention of wiping her from existence once and for all. Yet, I noticed her smile did seem a little wider, a little more pleasant on her face than my usual one. It bothered me how much I liked it. Operation Shut-Down-Rich was set into motion the following day. I was as nervous and on edge marching into school as I was yesterday, however now I wasn't entirely on my own. I had a game-plan in mind to both win back my friend, and let him down gently, which was a far cry better than before. Although didn't completely agree with Carla on the details, I had no better alternative ready, and the more time this took, the more I felt my only real friendship was slipping farther and farther from my reach. Miraculously I had found a way to squeeze in time for some assignments last night, letting me breeze through my other classes. However, I hadn't practiced for band, making me the one needing assistance today. But that was fine; that was part of the plan. It gave me a lead-in to speak with Rich, who was had been failing to ignore me as soon as I walked it, yet hesitant to speak up. Under the pretense of going over the new material, I asked if Rich wanted to hang out at the mall after school today. Although apprehensive at first, he must have seen it was good opportunity to talk out our private matters and agreed. I declined his offer his offer to ride with him there though. The thoroughly confused look on his face prompted me to add an excuse of "dropping off a few library books." He didn't to push me any further on it, probably fearing I might snap at him again. Rich asked me to text him my location when I get there to meet up. Poor guy, I was way too vile to him yesterday; It wasn't his fault. Well, I mean, it was. He is totally one to blame, but he wasn't the only one. I didn't mean to curse him out like that, I was just in too fragile of a mental state. But I was going to make it up to him today big time, I promised to myself as I headed over to parking lot and regrouped with Carla. Phase one complete, on to phase two. I rode home with her in one of her friend's car, a cramped teal convertible. I didn't recognize the driver, but apparently, she was one of Carla's BFFs. Cassandra, I think her name was? Anyways, Carla hadn't told her the full story yet, so she spent the whole ride trying to wring it out of the two of us. Thankfully, Carla rebuffed most of the attempts for me. Gosh, she really was keeping to her word, wasn't she? She said she was doing it for fun, but that couldn't be the whole story. I wonder how much I'll owe her after all this is said and done. Something even more steep than my dignity, no doubt, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I needed to steel myself for the task ahead. We made it home at 3 and I left the house at 4:30, walking a fair way away to the nearest bus stop alone. I normally avoided taking the city bus at all costs; my social anxiety couldn't handle the proximity of fellow students, let alone complete strangers. However, I had to bite the bullet in order to arrive at the mall on time. Wary of wayward glances as I stepped aboard, I stared straight down into my phone screen and sent a short message to Rich. [Arriving soon, hope you didnt waiting long] [no biggie, brought along a script to read] [Really, taking homework to the mall? Lol] [hey, not my idea to hang out on a school night! whats up with that anyways?] [its a surprise! I talk about it when I get there, meet you at Reese's, Ok?] [K, Benji. cys] Chimes rang out above me, signaling the bus finally making it to RiverRush Shopping Center, my stop. Summoning my courage, I gingerly stepped off and made my entrance into the mall in a hurry. I did my best to appear not a like the jittery bundle of nerves I felt it was as I headed towards our rendezvous point. Finding a close-by bench to rest at, I texted Rich my arrival, sat back, and waited in pure terror. I had forgotten to pack a paper bag in case I started hyperventilating from the stress. However, it wasn't long until I spotted Rich's blond hair sticking out amongst the crowd, heading this way. I stayed seated, as Phase 3 of the plan was about the commence. This is the critical part, and I had not to screw up my lines. I had practiced them repeatedly with Carla before I'd left, but the adrenaline spike I was riding right then was blanking out my mind a bit. All I could focus on was Rich walking closer towards my bench, scanning around for his friend Benji. But he never found him. Instead, he found me. I slipped my phone back into my little black saddle bag and clasped it shut as I stood up. I started walking towards him, the 4-inch black ankle strap heels I was borrowing clacking against the floor titles with each step. My toes and fingers were adorned in navy blue polish to match the knit cardigan I wore on top of a black "The Moody Blues" tee. This time instead of a skirt, I had on white capris that barely managed to reach the top of my ankles. Carla had picked these out due to how the AC always tends to be blasted at max at RiverRush, and I'd solemnly obliged. My hair was tied in a short ponytail. My bangs were lightly brushed to the side to reveal more of Carla's expertly done craft at makeup. She insisted on a "casual, yet determined look" for the evening, whatever that meant. My lips were coated in a dark burgundy, my eyelashes were fluffed out the max, and my small diamond clip-ons weightless on my ears. And despite the stark contrast from my previous outfit, one glance in Reese's storefront window reassured was still as convincing as ever. Rich had stopped dead in his tracks, eyes blinking profusely, jaw hanging out as if he had just seen a ghost. "B... Bella?!" he stuttered. I posed meekly in front of him as his eyes darted around at a million places at once, all of them on my person. "Wha- how- why are you here?" "Because I told you I'll be here, duh!" I say in that sing-song feminine tilt I somewhat loathed, despite how good I was getting at it. Or, more accurately, because of how good I was getting at it. "Don't tell me you forgot my invitation?" "That not what I meant! I mean, why are you dressed as a girl again? I thought you said-" Dropping the play-dumb act, I held a manicured hand in front of his face to halt him. "Yeah, and it still holds, although I'm sorry I vented at you in such a rude manner yesterday. I was going through a lot, yet neglected that you must have been struggling yourself. Forgive me, please. The truth is, I didn't mind kissing you the other day. In fact, I found myself enjoying it a whole lot, and that's my problem. I can't do the Bella act forever, Richie, so I don't think whatever there is between us will be going anywhere further than that night. I'm a guy, and I plan on staying that way. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I want us to stay friends forever. But just friends, okay?" If any sign of disappointment had registered on Rich's face, it was quickly shaken off and replaced with a big, warm smile. "Yeah, no harm done. I totally wanna stay friends too, dude. Didn't mean to like, suggest anything by saying I liked the kiss. You were pretty shaken up last I saw you, and I just wanted to make you sure were okay." Relief flooded though me, my pent-up stress dissolving into a wash of bubbly warmth. I had my friend back! Or rather he never left to begin with. I was just too caught up in my own head to realize that until now. A goofy grin spread across face, and in my giddiness, I leapt up and hugged him. Rich was taken aback, not knowing what to do as my arms wrapped around his neck. He gave a light squeeze back, but then dropped his arms and mumbled "Bella... thanks but uhm... your bra's poking my ribs a bit." Suddenly realizing that I just thrusted us into another awkward situation, I quickly scrambled off him and tried to compose myself. I glanced around, fearing that someone might have seen us and gotten the wrong assumption. Rich chuckled, "You know, for a chick who just rejected me, you'll awfully clingy." "Sorry again, sorry. I had a lot of guilt weighting down on my chest since then, and I'm just extremely glad don't you don't hate me right now." I said quietly. "As if I would ever hate you, dude" said Rich still laughing. "I'm the one who should be glad they aren't hated; who else am I gonna find who'd put up with my dumb wagers?" I started snickering too, and soon we were on our way, walking down the mall's corridor toward nowhere in particular. As I pranced alongside him, Rich casted a curious look toward me. "Speak of chests, you still haven't told me why you're in a bra right now?" he asked jovially. "Oh, yeah. Well, this wasn't mostly my idea; Carla talked me into it. She mentioned something about guys responding better to getting let down when you tell it them in person." In truth, she thought Rich was such a blunderhead that he needed to hear a rejection from Bella herself, not Benji. Obviously, I omitted that part. "Wait, you told Hotshot Carla? And she didn't tattle on you for using her stuff, or kill you? Holy Shit!" "I didn't mean to tell, she sleuthed it out on her own. But yeah, I probably own her a big one, and she knows it. Also, "Hotshot Carla" isn't gonna take off, please stop forcing it." "Come on, I have to fire back? You hear what she and her friends call me? It totally ruins your rep when the school's elites have cutesy nicknames for ya." "I understand, but you've earned yours, Star-Boy, and it's suitably infantilizing. Unlike 'Hotshot,' which might as well be a compliment to her. Come up with a better one and maybe I'll play along with it more." "Fine, I'll drop it for now. I guess I have to thank her too, since I imagine this new number you're wearing from her as well." "Everything but the shirt, that's mine. What do you think? Convincing enough? It'll need to be for later." I stopped in place and twirled about, a maneuver I never imagine myself doing in public in a million years. Wow, why was I feeling so happy and lighthearted right now? After the dumpster that my mood has been in, my brain must be pumping serotonin about at record pace to make up for lost time. I felt light a feather has Rich ogled me again. "You do look cute," he said slowly, then he shook his head in a panic. "Wait - can I say that? Is that too weird?" I giggled. "As long as you don't get any silly ideas, you're fine. Thank you, by the way. So where are we off to now?" "Beats me. You're the one who sent the invitation, so I figured were at the mall on a Tuesday for a reason. Wait, don't tell me we're going clothes shopping - if so, I'm outta here." "Relax, I haven't turned full girl on you. I'm still me, your buddy, and although you may have struck out today, it won't be your only chance." "What the hell do you mean by that?" "Remember when we were discussing how to get girls' numbers. When you wished had an inside scoop as what which girl as into before you asked? Well, that's where I come in?" "I'm not really following?" "Think of me as your wingman, or rather wingwoman! I'll go in first, do a bit of girl talk, get to know what she likes and doesn't like, then I'll slip you into the convo and see if she's interested. Listen, as Bella, I have a unique opportunity to interact with women in a different way, one in which they won't immediately blow my attempts off, unlike with you." Rich rested his hands on his hips, feigning anger at my little jab at him. "Hey, come on! I'm not that terrible. Hell, you're even worse! I've never once seen you walk up to a lady and have a conversation. I had to force you to even say hi to that one girl at Chester's bar mitzvah. How do you think you're going to pull this caper off?" "Carla gave me a few tips on what to say before I left. Complimenting a girl's hair or outfit is an easy way to spur on some chit-chat, and then I'll target some interests from there. I'll be fine, trust me." I put on a brave face for Rich, but on the inside the turmoil was boiling up again. Carla had given me more a than a few points- she had lectured an entire semester's worth of "female etiquette" knowledge, as if I could cram it all in before the test. However, I was fearful that I'd already forgotten some of the finer points she listed. It was hard enough remembering how to walk in these heels, how to swing my hips in a natural manner, or not to hide my face constantly when in public. Asking me to successfully sell the prospect of dating Rich to strangers was almost too much. But I had to do it, for his sake and mine. The best way to guarantee Rich and I don't repeat another incident again was for him to hook up with someone else. And since it's mine fault we're in this mess, I had to be the one to solve it. I squared up and marched forward into the food court with renewed determination. Rich trailed along, still with some lingering questions. "Okay, say we do this 'wingwoman' thing then, what should our story be? Cousins again?" "Richie, "cousins" is a terrible plan, that's why we never use it. We hardly even look related." "Second cousins, twice removed?" "The more lies we have to keep track of, the more chances of slipping up. Let's just be as honest as we can. We're good friends from school hanging out for the afternoon - nothing wrong with that, is there? Hey, I already can see a potential candidate nearby by the pretzel stand. Come on, hurry up!" And so, Rich and I scoured the mall together on the lookout for any lonely souls willing to waste their time with us. I took charge, on the prowl for boutique counters or dress stands, place where girls tended to gather around. From the endless conversations we've had on the subject in the past, I knew pretty well what Rich's preferences we're, and I figured it shouldn't be too hard to find a few who matched. However, it was a Tuesday, so the pool of shoppers I had to pick from was quite shallow. Less peopled worked in my favor if just in case my charade was blown there was less of chance I anyone I knew finding out, yet it still proved a hinderance. Luckily, of the few girls I did manage to talk to, striking up conversations was surprisingly not hard. A "Love those boots!" "Cute purse!" or "That would be dazzling on you!" went a long way. Soon, I was making small talk with girls I'd never would've had the guts to make eye contact with before. When they would ask about me, I gave a few tidbits about my school life or outfit, but I needed to avoid too many direct questions. Carla said the number one topic people loved to talk about was themselves, and boy was she right. One lady went on endlessly about her dog-sitting job, another wouldn't stop arguing on whether Mac or Revlon matched her complexion better, and one saw me as an opportunity to go on a tirade about her 2 previous breakups. I was quickly learning that "girl-talk' wasn't all giggles and gossip; it was an onslaught. The most I could do was nod and pretend to follow along. Eventually though I'd point towards Rich, usually loitering by the entrance of whatever shop we were at and, introduce him as a friend of mine. I'd gush about his acting talent, talk-up his sax playing, remark on how funny and sincere he was, then casually toss in that he's currently single. I thought I had made a pretty persuasive pitch for him, yet sadly my offer kept getting rejected. Either they already had a boyfriend or politely declined, saying they weren't looking for the "play-boy" type. I switched up by tactics, hammering in Rich was looking a steady relationship, not a fling, but I think that just scared them off even faster. Resorting to more drastic measures, I remarked on how handsome Rich, focusing on his bleach-blonde hair, rugged chin, and hazel eyes. Yet this just confused things further, and they would start asking why wasn't I dating him if he was such a catch? I didn't have much of answer for that, so I'd just chalk up my loss and sheepishly say my goodbyes. Rich didn't seem to mind my lack of success all that much though. Whenever I'd trudge back to tell him of another failed pursuit, he'd always just smile and switch topics on me. In between flirts, Rich would lead me to one our regular hangouts throughout the mall. We played a few rounds of air hockey at the arcade, browsed through the game store, and grab a bite to eat at the juice bar. We fell into the regular groove of old friends, shooting the breeze together and enjoying our young lives. And yet, the more time spent with Rich, the more I realized my perception of him had changed; I just could stop thinking of him as a potential boyfriend. I guess all that talk about his good points had made me even more aware of them, and then some. If our hands had accidentally met while playing a game, electricity would spark across my skin, prickling up goosebumps. When we'd get too close, I could his smell his sandalwood cologne. His smile alone would send tingles down my spine. Just like at the fair, I was having terrible thoughts. Despite clearing the air between us, I was still a compromised mess. I must put this Bella persona to rest, and the sooner I find Rich a girlfriend, the faster I'll be rid of these wretched thoughts. I hope Marigold rays of light beamed down on the marble benches surrounding the center promenade. We sat there, me resting my weary feet and Rich polishing off the last of his smoothie. He squinted at his phone screen as he held in the waning light of the setting sun. "It's half past 7, Bella," he sighed, pocketing his phone away. "I appreciate the royal effort you've put in today, but I think it's time to call it quits." I tilted my head up, my back still laying across the bench. "Wait we can't call it quits now; we haven't gotten one number yet. I can't let you go back empty handed!" Rich shrugged. "Somedays you just strikeout. It's fine; I'm used to it and I'm already over it. Besides, I'm not going home empty handed. I got to spend more time with you, and I wouldn't pass that up for anything in the world." I'd admit, that sentiment tugged at my heart strings a little, yet I wondered if the "you" Rich was referring to was me in general or specifically Bella. I sat up and reached down for my purse, preparing to head home. However, in a small record shop across the hall, I spotted a young cashier blowing bubble gum at the check-out stand. Rich and I didn't visit that place too often despite our shared passion music; we normal purchased all our albums online. Thus, I had overlooked this cute, blonde, and somewhat punkish looking cashier in my quest. Yeah, she seemed to fit all of Rich's (admittedly wide) taste in ladies. Could she be the one? "Come on, I'll drop you off at home. My truck's parked near the sporting goods shop, I think." "Hey, hold up." I gestured at the music shop to draw his attention. "Don't you think that cashier looks cute?" Rich brought a hand over his eyes to block out the sunrays. "Oh, you mean the one in the black polo with the big tits?" I shot Rich a glare for his brash phrasing, but he didn't care. Which made me suddenly wonder why I cared? "Are you gonna try her?" "She's your type, isn't she?" "I don't really have a "type," but yeah, she's hot. Isn't it kinda lame to ask a chick out while she's working though? I read somewhere that it's like goading someone into something while their trapped, unable to escape 'til their shift's over." "It might be a faux pau for a dude to do that, but perhaps not between women?" "Still, it's kinda late and she probably tired, let's just-" "Enough with that quitter's attitude, Richie! This will be our final shot, let's make it count." I leapt up to feet and started walking over towards my target. Over my shoulder I shouted back "And for the love God, please try to look cool and not half dead when I point back at you, okay." Rich muttered something, but I couldn't hear it as I stepped inside the music shop, where the overhead speakers were blaring a metal track I didn't recognize. The clerk in question didn't take any notice of my arrival. She was sitting at the counter, idly thumbing through an issue of Billboard. Perfect, maybe she's bored enough to think over my proposal. I browsed through the aisle of records and CDs, figuring it'll be best if I pretended to buy something first. It was a quite small shop, tucked in a nook and overshadowed by the neighboring Macy's, but I found that it held a surprisingly decent selection of tracks. I gravitated towards the alt-rock shelves and found a CD copy of Yes' debut which Rich would have loved. Making my way to the counter, I noted a name tag pinned to her left lapel. Rosalynn, huh? Pretty name, although, her appearance didn't strike me as very rosy. Up close, I realized her hair was platinum blonde, with brunette roots peeking through. Her nails were long, narrow, and polished in pitch black. Her thorns, perhaps? Dark eyeliner and deep purple lipstick adorned her face, along with a few silver piercings. She looked , at least 19, and I started to worry that she was way above Rich's league. I almost gave up there shuffled back to return the CD until she spoke up. "Welcome to HeatStreet," she said, ignoring that I've been roaming the joint for a few minutes already. "Ready to buy?" "Oh, me?" I blurted out, like an airhead. "Who else?" Her voice was dry with a hint of rasp to it. Sarcasm and disdain embedded from it. Rich's chances were looking slimmer and slimmer. I tried laughing off my stumble. "Ha ha, umm, yeah. These two, please?" Damn it, keep it together, girl- I mean dude! "Sure thing, I'll ring you up right now. Big fan of the 70's stuff, I take it?" She nodded towards my band tee, which I totally forgot I was wearing. "Oh, yeah. I guess the top kind of gives it away. Progressive is a favorite of mine, for sure, but I'm basically into anything loud and rhythmic from any era. Do you have any favorites?" "You're listening to one right now." She pointed over to a phone held a charging dock behind the counter. I could see a music playlist loaded up on it, and I figured the dock must have been linked to the store's speakers. "Have you heard of Battles? They're pretty sick, as you can plainly tell. A huge inspiration of mine." "Inspiration? You play?" "Of course, I do! You're looking at the best bass player in the Central Valley. At least at the amateur level. Even have my own band." "Wow, that's so cool! I play a little myself, but nothing as cool as a guitar. Just clarinet in the school orchestra for now. Maybe I learn something better later." "Music's music, ma'am. Playing the clarinet is nothing to be ashamed of. Although, my band's really not scouting for a wind-section at the moment. We're called OnomatoPetal, only started just last year, but I got a mix tape if you wanna give it a listen." She pulled a loose manila sleeve from her hoodie's pocket, with a burnt CD labelled "8" on it. "Thank you. My name's Bella by the way. Also, your nails are marvelous, where did you get them done." "Rosalynn, and I appreciate it. I did them myself, just right now actually." "What, on your break?" She chuckled to herself. "Nah, not many people enter this shop these days. Streaming cut hard into the physical industry, and now whatever walk-in traffic we get is usually from vinyl hipsters who wouldn't know an 8-track from a Hit Clip. No offense." "Umm... none taken?" "But yeah, this place is most likely going out of business soon. In the meantime, the boss-man lets me do basically whatever I want, like picking the background ambiance, for example, or dabbing in some new polish in-between customers. The pay isn't spectacular, but it's a pretty sweet gig while it lasts." Okay, so far so good. I managed to hold on, and despite her standoffish demeanor initially, she been leading the entire conversation so far. Now maybe it was time to steer things my way. I still had my mission at hand, but perhaps I should take a less "direct" approach. "Hmm, still you must get pretty bored here alone. Do any of your friends or bandmates pop in? A boyfriend?" "Occasionally to drop off a few more mixtapes, but you're right, it does get a bit too tame around here. And no, I'm single, if that's what you're getting at." Rosalynn smirked. "Well, if you have some free time tonight, I have a friend who would lo- " "Actually, I have to close up the shop right now, so I don't really have time tonight." She interrupted. "But I'll tell you what, Bella. Since you're quickly becoming my favorite customer of the year, I'll let you in on a little secret. My band has a gig booked at a house party this Saturday. A tiny venue, but they said we're allowed to bring guests." She raised an eyebrow at me, as if she were testing my bravado. "Up for it?" "That's sounds awesome! We'd love to come to your set." "We?" She asked, clearly confused. "Oh, yeah. My friend, Rich over there by the fountain, he'd-" "Is he your boyfriend or something?" Caution lined her voice. She tilted her head to past me to inspect him. Rich was watching the whole thing, cross-legged on a bench. When he noticed Rosalynn's piercing glare, he nervously waved back. Darn, in my excitement I totally forgot to introduce him! No wonder she's freaking out. I needed explain myself quickly before she rescinded her invitation. "No, no, no, we aren't an item or anything. Far from it, he's just a friend of mine, totally single. It's fine if he comes along, right. I'll can call him over if you wanna meet him." "Eh, the more the merrier I suppose. He'd have to buy his own ticket though; each member is only allowed one extra." She shrugged, then an alarm buzzed on her phone. "Sorry, but my shift's ending in like, 3 minutes. I better start packing away the stuff." She passed me my purchases and receipt with a phone number scrawled across it. "Call me later, kay Bella? I'll text you the address the stuff" I clutched the receipt to my chest as if all my prayers were answered on it. "Will do! See you Saturday, Rosalynn!" "Later." She waved me off as I practically pranced out of the store and down towards Rich, him now standing and tapping his foot. "Soooo, how did it go, Casanova? "We finally did it! You got a date this Saturday, bro!" I beamed. "What, really? Sweet, how did you pull that off? Should I go up and talk to her then? Oh man, I don't even know her name?" "Well, no, she has to close up right now," and as if on cue, the shop's lights went off behind me. "However, Rosalynn - that's her name by the way - said we're invited to a party she's playing at! She has her own band! Isn't that rad!? Oh man, she so cool and down to earth to, totally different from the ones from our school. She even gave me a copy of some of her songs if you wanna liste-" Rich cut into my gabbling "Wait, did you just say we're invited?" "Yeah, weird right? The biggest party we've ever been to are the occasional birthday as kids! This one's gonna huge! There might be like, college students there! "Right... and she expecting you to come along too? The both of us? That doesn't sound much like a date, Bell." Rich's questioning tone was putting damper our victory. "What are you getting at, Richie?" "Think about it, for a minute, will ya? She gave you her number, you the CDs, you the invitation, and seemly asked nary a question about me? Does that not concern you at all? "Look if you think I'm gonna cramp your style, relax. I'll just introduce the two of you together and step back for the rest of it." "But you know what that means right? She gonna be expecting you there. The current you." Oh. The pieces started clicking together. Rosalynn didn't invite Rich, or me for that matter. She invited Bella. And now, if this was meet up was gonna happen for Rich, I'll have to show up. At a party. With dozens of people in attendance. Drat. What have I gotten myself into again...?