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It was a long bike ride home and the night had gotten cold, but I didn't really notice it all that much. I was still warm inside after being with Brian. He'd been sort of a jerk, bringing his three stupid friends in the girls locker room, but I'd been a jerk too, telling the principal that Brian had touched me when he hadn't. So I couldn't really blame him for wanting some kind of revenge. I mean, the boy part of me understood it completely and the girl part, well she hadn't even noticed until later, until we'd kissed. I hadn't felt queer kissing Brian, not even a little bit. I hadn't even thought about it and I wondered if that was good or bad.

How come all this was happening to me right now though, I wondered as I pedaled my bike down the county road slowly. I mean, ever since that first time I'd had sex with my brother Steve it had been one thing after another, one person after another. It was like a dam had burst or something and it made me a little confused and even worried, sorta. Maybe I was a slut. But I didn't feel like a slut and I'd never worried about that before, so why now, after having sex with Brian? Maybe he thought I was a slut, I thought, and maybe that's why he wanted to go out with me. Wendy Eversman wouldn't suck his dick, I bet. She probably wouldn't even touch it and that made me feel good, sorta, but a little bad too cause I'd touched a lot of dicks. But I couldn't really be a slut, could I?

Only girls could be sluts, I thought, but then I remembered that Scott had told me fags could be sluts too. But I wasn't having sex with everybody. My brothers didn't count, did they? And Coach, well he was different, so he probably didn't count, and Lisa too. Having sex with her couldn't really make me a slut, especially since I was trying to hook her up with my brother, Steve. I'd had sex with Josh's cousin, Sandy, but I hadn't been looking for it and she'd seduced me, mostly. That couldn't count, right? And Kyle, we'd done it but he was my best friend and I knew we'd never do it again, so that didn't make me a slut. I'd been pretty slutty with Jane and Sherry though, but just for that one night and now Jane was my girlfriend and I didn't particularly want to have sex with Sherry again. That had been sort of special circumstances anyway. So a girlfriend couldn't count and that meant Julie didn't count either, and if Sherry didn't count...

Did having sex with Brian make me a slut? He was just one boy. If I'd had sex with his three friends too, well then, yeah, I'd have been a total slut. But I didn't and I really wanted Brian to be my boyfriend so, no, that didn't make me a slut either. It all seemed perfectly logical to me when I thought about it like that and I felt a great sense of relief. At least I didn't have to worry about being a slut! I was definitely not one of those, despite having sex with like eight guys, or maybe ten if you counted the strangers at rest area, and five girls over, Ummm ... Two weeks? That sure seemed like a lot.

I was halfway home and I still had more worrying to do though. I had two girlfriends already, three if you counted Miss Haven, Lisa, which maybe she was and maybe she wasn't. I hadn't thought she was at first, but now I sorta did, but if Lisa and Steve started dating then, I guess she wouldn't be. I had a pretty good idea that they would want to date too, and seriously, since Steve was really good at getting girlfriends and Lisa was super hot, but it would sorta depend on if Steve liked her super submissive personality too. I had no idea about that and I sorta wished I could ask him, you know?

Anyway, having two girlfriends was nice for me, but it worried me now too. Jane wouldn't care if I saw Brian, I didn't think, as long as we stayed together. At least that's what she said. But Julie, I still didn't get what she thought of it despite her promises that she and Jane had come to some sort of arrangement. She'd made me promise that there wouldn't be any more girlfriends, and I was pretty sure that included boyfriends too. And Brian knew I was seeing Jane. I mean, everyone knew about me and Jane now, but we hadn't talked about it. He wouldn't want to share, I didn't think, since Brian didn't really strike me as the sharing kind, you know? He liked to get his way, since that was what he was used to. Once he found out about Julie he was probably going to make me choose between him and them. Just like Julie would. I was starting to understand that I couldn't have everything I wanted.

And then my friend Steve. Little Steve with his nice smile and that cute beauty mark at the corner of his mouth and his puppy dog eyes behind his glasses; what was I gonna do about him? I'd sort of been avoiding him by accident mostly, but that wouldn't last. In fact he was coming over that night, so I'd have to deal with it. I knew he liked me a lot and I liked him too, but I wasn't sure it was the same. I mean, I didn't really think about kissing him or anything, although maybe I would. Mostly I didn't really think about him at all, just cause I was pretty busy thinking about everybody else. But he had asked me out and I'd sort of said yes, but that was before I'd hooked up with Jane and Julie, otherwise I'd have said no, probably.

It didn't seem fair and my little 14 year old brain didn't have any idea what to do about any of it. Thinking about it didn't help though, that was for sure. All it had done was remind me how much trouble I was in and make me even more worried. I wished I was like three people, I thought, riding my big onto the big wide gravel drive that lead to the house and the garage. I shoulda been triplets maybe, then there would have been enough of me to go around, and who knows, maybe one of us would have liked being a girl. That sort of cheered me up and even made me giggle a little, which I really needed a lot!

"You're home late," my dad was in the kitchen and Greg was washing dishes. David was sitting at the table with the folder for that Cougar.

"Yeah. I sorta got some cramps," I made a face and dropped my backpack on the floor. I got some Tylenols out of the cabinet and took a couple with a glass of juice. I did have a little one too, but it wasn't bad like the kind I got at the beginning of my menses, and I was glad I had it since I knew it meant my period was almost done. I figured it was just my body rearranging itself a little now that I was all cleaned out inside, getting ready to give Brian a brand new egg to shoot for. And that thought seemed wicked and weird and almost made me choke on my juice.

I covered my mouth and Daddy looked at me.

"You okay?" he asked and I nodded. "Drink slower, you'll live a little longer."

"Yeah," I gasped and drank the rest of my juice carefully, wondering why that thought had crept into my brain and hoping it didn't show on my face.

Some people think I'm dumb for a couple reasons. Firstly, because I'm a mechanic, but you can't be dumb and be a good mechanic. It doesn't work like that. Another reason is that I'm blonde and reasonably attractive. Even though I had short hair when I was fourteen and dressed like a boy, people still knew I was already pretty and like it or not, someday I was probably gonna wake up beautiful. That sounds bad, like I'm all full of myself, but that's what other folks said, not me. I'd have been happy looking like a boy my whole life, even a pretty one. I've never been dumb though, not even when I was doing dumb things. If anything I was probably too smart for my own good and losing a few brain cells might have done me some good. I'd have spent less time worrying about everything else and just got on with my life, which was pretty much what I did anyway, to tell the truth. I just worried about it in my spare time.

Anyway, I was just about all worried out by the time I was sitting down at the table. But the trouble with having a real close family, if there is one, is that people can tell when you're being bothered by something, even when it's not really bothering you all that much anymore.

"There's some pork chops in the oven," Daddy was saying and he started fixing me a plate. "Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah," I shrugged, knowing it wasn't the innocent question it sounded like.

"Matt called about half hour ago, looking for you," Daddy was warming up some gravy in the microwave for my potatoes. "But I guess he didn't have cramps."

So then I knew he just wanted to know the real reason I was almost an hour late coming home. There wasn't gonna be any avoiding it, so I sorta bit the bullet.

"I was talking with Brian Hades," I smiled, just a little. "I kinda owed him an apology, you know?"

"An apology?" David looked at me and grinned. "You did him a favor, Ann. His nose was way to small for his big head." Greg laughed at that and even Daddy smiled.

"Shut-up," I said, making a face at him.

"So you got it all straightened out then?" Daddy asked.

"Yeah, I don't know," I sighed and made another spontaneous decision, like always. "I think he wants to ask me out, kinda."

"Is that right?" the corners of Daddy's lips went down.

"After you kicked his butt?" Greg laughed some more.

"I guess some fellas like that in a girl," Daddy laughed too and I blushed a little.

"I just don't know if I should or not, I mean, um..." I shook my head. Daddy knew I had a girlfriend anyway, they all did, but it still woulda been weird talking about it. Probably for Daddy too, so we sorta let it drop.

"You ready to do that Merc?" David asked me and I nodded. "What time is your friend showing up?"

I glanced at the clock, it was just before eight. "I don't know, I figured he'd be here already," I shrugged and sat at the table as Daddy set the plate down in front of me. It was just warm, not really hot, and the pork chops were a little dry even with some gravy, but it was still good. I was starving.

"Jerry Stiles just left about half an hour ago. Him and his boy Wade started on the pantry. We moved all that junk out to the shed, so if you go lookin' for anything..." Daddy said, watching me eat.

"We?" Greg looked at Daddy and laughed. "You didn't move a damn thing, Pops!"

"Heh!" dad grinned. "Watch your cussin' and besides," he looked at me and winked, "I was supervising."

"I bet," I said with my mouth full and David was shaking his head. It was nice to be home, I thought.

"Anyway, gonna be some 20 foot by 13 or so, so you got a lot of room in there. Gonna put a big bay window where those old doors were and a little closet and a little bathroom."

"Okay, that'll be nice," I smiled, it sounded good to me.

"Or else you can have a bigger bathroom and no closet," Daddy shrugged. "Or a walk-in closet and no bathroom."

"I want a bathroom," I said. "And I guess a closet would be sorta handy."

"I figured that too," Daddy smiled. "But we gotta do the plumbing ourselves, Jerry don't do that stuff."

I shrugged. "I can do it. I'll get Craig Lawler to help me."

"Bring him round for an estimate," Daddy nodded.

I wasn't bad with plumbing, in fact I sorta liked it cause pipe fitting was easy, but I never tried piping a whole bathroom before either. Craig was a guy I knew, well we all knew him, but I mean I had helped him out with his Javelin a few times, which wasn't a bad car, but those old AMC's were gluttons for attention. His family owned Lawler Brothers Plumbing, up in Wilverness, so I figured he'd give me a hand so long as we got the materials from them.

"Nelson gonna do the wiring?" David asked.

"Yeah," Daddy nodded. "We just gotta keep him sober."

"Get him out here early then, before breakfast," Greg chuckled and dried his hands. "I heard he likes Blackjack pancakes."

"What's that?" I asked, finishing off my potatoes.

"Blackberry brandy in the batter and Jack Daniels in the coffee," Greg shook his head. "He's gonna be dead by the time he hits fifty."

"Gross!" I made a face.

Nelson was the only certified electrician in town and he liked to drink. He liked to drink a lot and he was a good drunk. Nelson was pretty funny and always doing silly harmless things, like sitting his 250 pound butt on a Styrofoam cooler for example, and then wondering why they don't make Styrofoam coolers like they used to. The bad thing was that nobody wanted him anywhere near live electricity when he was drunk, for obvious reasons, so that usually meant you had to roust him out of bed at sunrise and get him to work before he could find a bottle. Daddy was always saying one if us should get certified, not only cause it was good money, but it would save a lot of trouble when we needed some wiring done. Nobody liked waking up Nelson cause he tended to be a little cranky that time of day.

About the time I was finishing up my dinner, a car was pulling into the drive. Not just any car either, but a...

"Hey Pops, we got a Cuda outside. Looks stock too," Scott was saying and I hadn't even realized he was home. I guess he was on the internet or probably playing that game with the big cow maybe.

"Oh yeah?" my dad was out the kitchen door barefoot, not worrying much about the cold or the gravel, and David, Greg, and I were right behind him.

It wasn't just every day a 1970 Hemi Cuda pulled into your driveway, but that was the only make and model that would have gotten Scott's undivided attention. And if it was stock, then whoever was driving it was about to make a friend for life, cause chopping a car like that was like committing a mortal sin with your neighbor's daughter, according to my dad.

"That's a 426, Pops. Damned if it ain't!" Greg was saying and that engine was growling sweet until the guy finally killed it and the doors opened.

"Hey Ann!" my friend from school, Little Steve was getting out of the passenger side and behind him his sort of half step-sister, Carol Hahn, was getting out as well.

"Hi Greg," she smiled and gave my brother a little wave.

"Mr. Russet? I'm Dan Sawyer, been looking forward to meeting you," Steve's dad was shaking hands with my dad while Steve walked over to talk to me and Carol moved closer to Greg. Carol was being coy about it though, suggesting that maybe her daddy wasn't supposed to know they had a little romance blooming. Or it could be that the girl was just shy around my dad, it was hard telling.

"Nice to meet you, this here's my boys..." Dad was getting friendly too, since anyone with a Cuda was okay in his expert opinion.

"Why didn't you tell me your dad has a Cuda?" I slapped Steve's shoulder playfully. "Jesus."

"Um, I dunno," the boy shrugged. "It's just a car. Kinda noisy."

I stared at him like he'd just said the world was shaped like red. It made no sense whatsoever.

"You like it? All original, except for a few little additions," Steve's dad was justifiably proud. "I've had it since I was 19, my first real car and it was a mess!"

"Got the original three fifty four transmission?" Scott asked, desperately wanting to pop the hood, I could tell.

"Yep, but I had to pull it off a '66 Satellite, you believe that? Some guy wrapped the front end around a goddamn buffalo out in Montana. Only thing left was the tranny and the rear end."

"Thrashed the motor?" Daddy looked like he'd just lost a child to the pox.

"Snapped the block, I looked at it myself," Mr. Sawyer shook his head sadly. "Go ahead and pop the top, hey uh, maybe you could help me out with something. The turbocharger starts to wind and dies like three seconds later ... Just started doing that the other day."

"Sounds like some off-boost," I said and Daddy nodded while Scott popped the hood.

"Off-boost huh?" he looked at me, and not just with interest in what I was saying either. "Exhaust problem? Hose maybe?"

He wasn't looking at me curiously either, not the way most new people I met did, like they were trying to decide if I was really a boy or a girl. Mr. Sawyer was looking at me like he was interested in seeing what I looked like naked and finding out for himself. It made me a little shy and a lot of nervous. I blushed a little and glanced at my dad, but he only had eyes for that car.

"Yeah," I nodded, clearing my throat a little and looking at him again out of politeness. "Well, no, not a hose. Probably a bad exhaust seal, giving out just a bit higher than your turbo..."

"So the charger starts and then the seal gives and you lose it, the turbo stops spinning," Scott added. "Start it up and we'll take a look ... Can we go for a spin?"

"Yeah, Scott, right? Keys are in the ignition, take her out," Mr. Sawyer gave a little jerk of his head towards the highway. "I've heard about you ... Annie Russet," he was smiling at me, speaking gently.

"Dad..." Little Steve said softly, like he didn't want to be embarrassed.

"I saw an article in Street Muscle, about that '70 Chevelle you built..."

Scott was smiling and giving Daddy a little nod. He was gonna see what that car would do, even without the turbocharger working right. And Daddy had sort of excused himself, walking over and leaning inside as Scott got comfortable behind the wheel.

"Uh, yeah," I looked at Mr. Sawyer, nodding and trying to think of something to say. No man had ever looked at me the way he was, not even Coach, not really. "That was um, the Super Sport."

I'd had a lot of help with that car, but the article had made it sound like I'd done it all. Sorta like the Prodigy article and my brother's had been a little annoyed cause there were like five pictures of me alone with the car, including the center fold, and just one of my brothers, all together in front of our garage. It was sorta small too.

"Yeah, with the 454 right?" Mr. Sawyer licked his lips. "You know, you should come by sometime and take a look around my garage. It's nothing like this, but, well I've got a couple little projects and..."

Mr. Sawyer looked a lot like his son, Steve, except he was older. He was slim, but not skinny and he had a nice face, sort of angular with high cheek bones and full lips. He sort of looked like a girl, almost, but there was nothing else feminine about him, that was for sure. He had black hair, combed straight back and a little long, like '50's style, you know? And sideburns too so he looked like one of those rockabilly guys. He must have been kinda wild as 19 year old, I thought, running around in his Cuda and picking up girls. Maybe he still did, cause he didn't really act like a father to my mind.

"Dad, I think Ann's dad wants you," Little Steve was sort of pointed at my dad who didn't seem to need Mr. Sawyer for anything. Scott was revving the engine and Daddy was smiling and nodding.

"Uh, okay," Mr. Sawyer took a quick look, and then fixed his eyes on me. "Maybe we could even take the Cuda out for a spin, if you wanted to."

"Ummm ... Yeah, sure," I shrugged, feeling really weird talking to Steve's dad like that. Was he hitting on me? Right in front of everybody, even his own son? It felt like it and my tummy twitched, just a little.

"Great!" he held out his hand like we'd just made some sort of deal and I took it nervously, suddenly worrying if I had sweaty palms or not. It was silly.

His hand was warm and dry and he held mine gently, but tightly, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb until it became almost uncomfortable and I was blushing again.

Daddy gave Mr. Sawyer the big tour, while me and David walked around with Steve, sort of giving him the smaller, cooler version. Stevie didn't know crap about cars though, which was disappointing and I wondered what was wrong with his dad. I mean anyone with a car like that ... Well, Little Steve should have had a wrench grafted to his hand. It felt like I did sometimes.

"Where'd Greg go?" I wondered aloud and David laughed.

"He's giving that chick a tour of the house," David looked at Steve. "No offense man, but your sister is hot."

"Yeah, I guess," Steve smiled, but he probably heard that a lot. "I know a hotter one though," he glanced at me and I rolled my eyes.

"So this is the Cougar..." I said, and we were standing in the painting shed. "We already got the primer and the first base coat, were gonna do another base, the real one, and then the emblems and all that stuff, some pin striping, and then we're gonna throw some high gloss clear coat on top."

"Uh, okay," Steve looked around like he was expecting something. "Where's your paint brushes and stuff?" David laughed and shook his head. "What?" Steve asked him, feeling somewhat foolish maybe.

"We don't use brushes," I explained and spent the next ten minutes giving him a quick lesson in the fine art of custom automobile painting.

"So why do you like me so much anyway?" I asked Little Steve, cause that was how I'd started thinking about him. My voice was a bit muffled through my mask, and the sprayer was hissing and the air compressor chugging softly outside, but it was still easy to talk.

David had gone out for a quick smoke break that had turned into a long one. I figured that he probably wanted to check out that Cuda with Scott and my dad. That was okay though, Little Steve was a bit nervous around my brothers, I thought. He was sitting on a low footstool, out of the way and just watching me work.

"I told you about that," Steve shrugged and he was wearing a mask too, of course. "I just think you're really cool."

"Yeah but you don't like cars, you don't play football, ummm ... What do you do?" I laughed a little and I hoped I didn't make him mad or anything, I was really curious.

"I like baseball," he said a little defensively. "And, um ... I like reading books and stuff, hanging out. I dunno, why? Do I have to like cars so you'll like me?"

"No," I stepped around the car, spraying slowly, taking my time.

"I like the way you look," Steve said a minute later. "I guess that's what I like the most." He sounded a little embarrassed, but maybe that was more nerves, it was hard to tell under his mask.

"I look like a boy."

"Yeah, um ... I told you I had a girlfriend, Monica. She looked sorta like a boy too," Little Steve told me, and I remembered when we'd talked that first day when we'd met and he'd told me about her.

"And everybody gave you a hard time," I shook my head like he should have known better or something.

I guess I was just feeling confused right then, you know? I mean with love and romance and all that stuff. Brian had surprised me and what we'd said and done filled my head with possibilities, but I was having a hard time finding room in my life for Stevie. I couldn't deny that what he was telling me was interesting, I liked it, and I liked him, but maybe I didn't want to like him though. Or I just didn't want the problems that I imagined liking him might bring.

"Yeah. So? I didn't care, she was my girlfriend," Steve said, sounding like I shouldn't care either.

"So if I was your girlfriend you wouldn't care if all the guys called you a fag?" I asked him.

"No, cause I ain't a fag."

"What if I am?" I said, just being sort of mean and I regretted it.

"What do you mean?" he looked at me sharply.

"Nothing," I sighed and concentrated on my painting.

"I thought you liked me?" Steve was looking down.

"I do like you, come on," I made a face, but that was sorta pointless under the mask.

"Yeah, but not like I want you to," Stevie had sort of a direct way of speaking and I liked it.

"How do you want me to like you?" I asked with a little laugh. "You don't know, maybe this is just the way I am with everybody."

"No," he shook his head slowly, "you weren't like this last week."

Last week seemed like a very long time ago to me right then, but I couldn't explain that to Steve. Heck, I couldn't even explain it to me. I'd been through so much so fast that if I stopped to think about all of it all at once I'd probably go crazy. I had to look at my life in little pieces, and sometimes those pieces didn't really fit with all the other ones, like Little Steve. He was sort of in limbo for me. I had no idea what we were doing.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "You know I got a girlfriend, right?"

"Uh, sorta ... That Jane girl, right?"

"Yeah, but I really got two of them. There's a girl named Julie too and I like her a lot," I didn't know why I was trying so hard to get Steve not to like me.

"Monica had girlfriends too," Steve said quietly. "She never really told me, but I knew about it."

I had my back to him and it was a good thing cause I was rolling my eyes, wondering if maybe he didn't want me just cause he missed her. I mean, this Monica sounded like my twin sister or something. And then I had the thought that maybe he was just making her up, sort of trying to prove something to me. I didn't know what though, and it was just sort of weirding me out.

"You got her phone number?" I asked Little Steve, although I couldn't imagine really calling his old girlfriend. Like I needed a reference or something? How ridiculous was that?

"Uh, yeah," he said slowly. "Why?"

"I just wondered," I was getting close to finished with that base black. "You still talk to her?"

"Sometimes."

"You tell her about me?" I was sort of teasing him, but kind of serious too.

"Uh, well, yeah ... a little," Stevie admitted.

"Really?" I almost stopped spraying, but that's sort of a bad thing. Not like horrible bad, but it throws off the rhythm, I didn't like stopping at all.

"Yeah," Steve nodded. "She uh, she sort of wanted to talk to you, but I said you were pretty busy." He laughed nervously, "I mean I couldn't even call you for a couple days there."

"Monica wants to talk to me?" I sort of blinked at that. But I was the one who'd brought up the subject, asking about her phone number, right? We couldn't be so much alike that we had the same thoughts. That was weird too and I might have felt a chill, but I didn't really believe in any psychic stuff.

"Yeah, it's okay though, you don't have to," Steve said quickly and I knew he wasn't making this girl up. I'd heard my brothers lie a thousand times, and Steve was lying ... But not about her.

"Why don't I have to?" I asked, meaning why didn't he want me to?

"I don't, uh ... I just mean, you know, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"You brought her up, man," I laughed and finished the car with a satisfied smile. My arm was a little sore, my wrist too, but not too bad. My fingers used to get really bad, practically going numb until I figured out I didn't have to hold the gun so tight, in fact it was best to barely squeeze it at all. But I flexed my fingers just the same, just cause they did get a little stiff.

I had put the gun down and started the conveyer, like two tracks on the floor about 18 inches wide each and spaced far enough apart for a car's wheels to sit on. Generally we had the cars on blocks for painting, like that Merc was just then, but you get the idea. The conveyer moved the car from one part of the shop to the other. Now it was going into the drying room. I hit the big blowers, now that I was done painting and the car was safely in the other room.

"Give me her phone number tomorrow and I'll think about if I'm gonna call her or not," I looked at Steve and he was looking down, unhappily in my opinion. "Hey, what's she gonna say that I won't like, huh?" I teased him.

"I dunno," he shrugged and that made me wonder if there wasn't something she might say that would bother me. I decided to just drop the subject. Stevie needed some attention to cheer him up and I was feeling bad for bringing him down, he didn't deserve it at all.

"Aww, come on," I moved closer to him, Little Steve really did look like a lost puppy. "You can take your mask off now anyway," I said, removing mine and licking my lips. The masks weren't bad, but they sorta dried out a person's mouth.

Steve took off his mask and pushed his glasses up his nose. He didn't wear them all the time, but I didn't ask what the deal was. They weren't very thick anyway, maybe he just didn't need them everyday, but they did sorta make him look smart.

"You wanna wrestle?" I grinned at him, trying to coax a smile from my friend.

"Huh?" That at least got him looking up, "In here?"

"Sure," I laughed, the room was empty now, and the floor was rubber diamond tread, which was sorta uncomfortable, but kinda soft and pretty clean except for some paint stains. "We'll make a bet..."

"What bet?" and he was smiling, just a little.

"Um, I don't know," I shrugged. "How about if I win, you gotta do something for me, and if you win, uh, I'll do something for you?" I really didn't think he could win, to tell the truth.

"Do what?" Steve grinned up at me from that stool he'd been sitting on. "Like go out with me?"

"What?" I laughed, "No, it's gotta be something we can do here, right away."

"Uh, sure okay," he nodded and I pulled Steve to his feet.

"You ready? No biting or kicking or anything, right?"

"Yeah," Steve said and we moved a little towards the middle of the paint room.

"And watch out for the conveyers, it sorta hurts if you fall on one of those," I warned him.