Chatting with Darkside
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The Wrong Side Of PinkChapter 3 free porn video
It was another week before she saw Devin Albright again.
In part, it was because she didn't share any classes with him; she had in the past, but not this year. In part, it was because she had no intention of staying in one place long enough for anyone to find her--though she did start telling Nancy how to find whatever hidey-hole she was planning to use for lunch. (Every now and then Nancy got lost and didn't show up. Madison wondered if this was the fabled male affinity for spatial navigation coming into play--and if Nancy was doing the traditional female thing: stopping to ask for directions.) And in part, it was because she wasn't sure she wanted to try her luck. He had been nice to her once; by her calculations, she wasn't due for charity for another month or so.
The Madison of three weeks ago wouldn't have hesitated to look him up, she realized. The Madison who had lived then would have been confident that good things would come her way. This was the Madison from Before, and to the Madison of today she seemed unbearably naive.
But Nancy wasn't enough. She was a good friend and kind, but that ironic smirk of hers rarely left her face, and sometimes Madison's patience wore thin. It was hard to keep positive with Nancy needling everything and everybody--sure, she was funny, but sometimes Madison wanted for something else. The Madison of Before would never have felt this way, she realized; the Madison of Before had always been surrounded by praise and good cheer. "Or at least sycophants," said Nancy the one time Madison mentioned it, which showed her that Nancy at once understood it and had absolutely no intention of taking it seriously. She didn't bring it up again.
She couldn't turn to her parents. She wasn't even sure what she wanted. She didn't have the words to explain; she didn't have the inner sensitivity to detect it. Feelings, Before or After, had never been Madison Bechtel's strong point. All she had was a growing sense that Nancy's style of friendship wasn't what she wanted. But from a lifetime of experience she knew that Stan and Cassie Bechtel could not give her what she longed for. She didn't know what it was, only what it wasn't: not Nancy's gloating; not her mother's waffling as she tried to decide whether she was speaking to a daughter or a son; not her father's distant, emotionless words; not Connor and his bad jokes and his teenager's toilet humor. He was like Nancy that way, incapable of taking anything seriously. He and Nancy might listen to her feelings, yes, but they would not honor them; and her parents didn't yet know how to listen--weren't sure who they were listening to.
As she did her homework on Thursday night, she pulled out her cellphone every five minutes on Thursday night and verge on calling Devin Albright. Fifteen seconds later doubt would seize her and she would put the phone back. It was a wonder she got anything done.
By Friday she had decided. And when Nancy plopped down next to her and said in a too-casual voice, "Sooo ... Planning to contact Devin any time soon?", Madison had her answer.
"No, not really. I've just ... I mean, with finals coming up next week, I've got too much on my plate already without trying to make new friends." That was, of course, not the truth--though in some ways, it kind of was. She did have too much on her plate; there were too many things she was already scared of for her to want to add more to it, to voluntarily subject herself to the friend-making process where she must impress this new person (Devin) and show herself off to best advantage. It was like going on a date. What a nightmare that would be right now.
"Oh," said Nancy, in a false voice, "I understand." And with that in mind, maybe Madison should've predicted that Devin should suddenly arrive at today's hiding place and say "Oh, fancy seeing you here!" with surprise so unconvincing as to wave a flag, and then sit down next to them without so much as asking permission. What got Madison was the speed at which it had happened. Between her telling Nancy where she planned to be this lunchtime, and Nancy actually arriving there, perhaps three minutes had passed. That was not much time for her to contact Devin and tell him how to get here. Had they planned this? Were they, to use this week's vocabulary word, collusioning?
She turned to Nancy. "What, are you making all my decisions for me now?"
"Absolutely," said Nancy. "I've signed you up for the Marines, by the way. I think it'd be a good career move for you."
Madison scoffed. "Yeah right. The first time I got into battle, I'd get shot."
"No you wouldn't," Devin said. "Who'd shoot a woman?"
Madison couldn't think of any response to this.
"How was the homework," Devin asked Nancy.
"What, for Pittman?" Nancy said. "Terrible. You know how he is. Thinks his subject's the most important one. What, do we not have any other classes besides his?"
"Pittman teaches History AP, right?" Madison said. "I don't take that class."
They ignored her.
"I have no idea why I signed up for him anyway," Nancy said. "I hate history. Especially when it's taught by a seventy-year-old half-senile teacher. I swear, he's told us about the Revolutionary War from first-hand experience."
"I love history, personally," Devin said, "but not when it's taught like this. The thing about history is that it's all interwoven, like a tapestry. Chopping it into chapters like this ... I mean, it's like pausing a song right in the middle. You lose all the connections. You stop seeing how it all actually really fits together."
"Have you noticed that your speaking voice is higher than hers?" Madison said to him.
They ignored her.
"Well, but there are pauses, aren't there?" Nancy said. "I mean, nothing really happened between, like, World War I and World War II, right?" Fine, be that way, Madison thought.
"What, are you kidding?" Devin exclaimed. "Everything happened between WW1 and WW2. World War I caused World War II."
"What?" Nancy said. "How come?"
Madison, despite herself, listened.
"Well, when the war ended, all the Allies came in and hammered out the peace treaty, right?" Devin said. "And the countries that lost ... Well, Britain and America and France and stuff were like, 'We don't just want them defeated, we want them humiliated.' And they imposed all these mean strictures and rules and laws on Germany designed to, you know, strip them of their pride and make them feel lousy about themselves. And directly out of that you got Germans who were saying, you know, 'Hey, well, screw this, this is ridiculous, we're better than this, we deserve better than this.' And they had a point, 'cause it was pretty harsh over there. But the problem was, one of those people was named Adolf Hitler, and he took it ... A little far."
"Wow," said Nancy. "I think I see your point."
"It's all interconnected," Devin said. "It's like life that way. You have all these factors coming in and they all have an effect on a person, and sometimes it's really hard to tell where one factor ends and another begins, or how they interacted or stuff like that."
"Wow, a historian and a psychologist," said Nancy with affable sarcasm. "Be still my beating heart. Could you possibly be more of a nerd, Devin?"
"Well, at least I'm not wearing glasses," said Devin, with ineffectual indignance. It was like he couldn't muster the force to squash a banana. He was so... Feminine that way.
"Oh, thanks," Nancy said with likewise-hopeless offense. "What, do I secretly have Superman's glasses or something? I put them on and nobody can see who I am?"
"Who's the nerd now?" Devin cackled.
This was all getting way too chummy for Madison's liking. She said, "Devin, how come you have a white last name?"
Nancy gave her a look of complete incredulity.
"What? Did I just mention his dead mother or something?" Madison said. "He's ... What, Korean?"
"Japanese, actually," said Devin, smiling, "but close."
"But he has an American last name, and he doesn't speak with an accent." Actually, that wasn't true: he had a little of the sibilating lisp that had become the stereotypical hallmark of gay people. (Was he?) But in any case, that too was a Caucasian thing; she seriously doubted Japanese people used it when they were gay. "So what's up with that?"
"Nothing much," said Devin. "My mom emigrated from Japan and met Dad in college; his family emigrated back in the 1880s. I think he said he's like half-Baltic, half-Park Place or something. Anyway, we speak English around our house because it's the only language my parents had in common, and then when they married Mom took Dad's last name." He gave a self-effacing shrug. "And then she had me."
"Well, I can see why you're interested in all the factors that affect people," Nancy said. "Look at everything that's gone into making you. You have your Japanese mom and her culture's upbringing, and your American dad and his culture's upbringing, and then whatever culture his ancestors had which was passed down to you--and then you have your genes, and then your home life, and then your life outside of home, and then whatever native talents or propensities you came with. That's a lot of stuff."
" ... Yeah," said Devin. "That's a lot." He was completely still for a moment, and Madison wondered what was going through his head. But then he roused from his lethargy and turned to Nancy. "What about you? Where'd you come from? What makes a Nancy Butler?"
"Oh, well, sugar and spice and everything nice, obviously," said Nancy sarcastically. "God, I dunno. Um. I'm more boring than you. My mom and dad met through my uncle, who was my dad's coworker and then his friend. He set them up one day and sparks flew immediately. And supposedly my mom was quite the looker when she was young, so I don't know what happened to me."
"It's 'cause you cover up," Madison said. Then two pairs of eyes that faced her and she realized she had said the thought out loud.
"Oh?" said Devin. "What do you mean?" And Nancy gave her a disgruntled gesture of assent. So Madison went on.
"I've told her hundreds of times," she said. "The reason nobody notices her from a physical standpoint is because she slouches, and she wears unflattering clothes, and that terrible 80s-throwback hairstyle. And she doesn't wear contact lenses, even though she has them. You don't want to look pretty, Nancy, even though you could. So you don't. And people detect that. Now, the ones who are respectful leave you alone, because they can tell that's what you want. But the assholes, who wouldn't've left you alone no matter what you looked like, keep sniffing around because that's what they do. So of course you have bad experiences with men: you deliberately turn away all the good ones, and you only leave the morons like Craig. Hell, they'd go after a man if he had a pussy."
"Oh?" said Nancy, looking directly at her.
Madison realized what she'd said and shut her mouth, her face turning red. Nancy realized what she'd said and shut her mouth, her face turning red. And silence might have reigned forever had Devin not looked from one to the other and said, "Well ... We could run an experiment."
Madison snorted. That's me, the human experiment. Good thing to be. "Why, what the hell experiment would that be?"
"Well ... I have a Sharpie in my backpack," said Devin in his meek, milksop voice. "We'll go into the men's bathroom and write that, for a good time, people should call Madison at ... What's your phone number, Madison?"
"Fuck you," said Madison.
"No, in numbers, please, I don't text that much," Devin said.
Nancy cackled. "At least he isn't using the excuse to get into the girls' bathroom again."
This was all getting too chummy for Madison's taste. "So, we were talking about how Nancy uglies herself up to avoid people."
"What, as opposed to you spending two hours on hair and makeup before a date with Craig?" Nancy laughed. "I'm a time-saver, bitch. I only spend an hour getting ugly."
"Well ... Nancy, I have to say, I think Madison's got a point," Devin said. "I think that, if anyone were to look at you and actually pay attention, they would see that you could be beautiful, if you wanted. But I've been in classes with you for years now and I never saw it until now--because, yeah, you do kind of deflect male attention. You put up a shield of unattractive features, and that's enough to shield your attractive ones. But all the unattractive things are purely cosmetic. You could remove them if you wanted."
"Yeah, but I don't want to, okay," Nancy growled.
"Oh?" said Devin. "Why not?"
Before Nancy could open her mouth, Madison intercepted him. "Don't ask. If she trusts you enough, she'll tell you." And Devin nodded and seemed to accept that.
"Well, then, that leaves us with you," he said. "What about you, Madison? What's the confluence of parentage and experience and DNA that makes Madison Bechtel?"
Madison wanted to glare at him, but Nancy was looking at her expectantly--probably glad to shift conversation off the perilous topic it had dwelled on earlier. And Madison wasn't entirely sure she did want to glare at him. It might break the mood. It was nice to talk this way--nice to have, for once, for just once, a normal conversation.
"What makes me?" Madison said. "What's the DNA that makes me?" She snorted. "I'm surprised that isn't all over the school already."
"Umm, I have to say," said Devin in that delicate voice of his, "that if your DNA was all over the school, I'd be extremely confused, because according to what I've heard, you don't actually have a penis."
Madison found that she was laughing. So was Nancy; and then, nervously, a moment later, so was Devin. It was the first time she'd laughed in almost a month. She had almost forgotten what it felt like.
"So, um, if I may ask..." said Devin when they were done. "What is exactly up with you? I've heard some terms bandied about and I think I trust maybe ten percent of it, so--if you don't mind talking about it, that is--I'd like to find out from the source."
Madison shrugged and told him.
"Wow," said Devin. "That's a lot of DNA. Amazing that just one gene could make such a huge difference on your whole ... Well, on your everything."
"Yeah," said Madison, less than reverent. "Amazing."
"You were supposed to be a guy," Devin said. "I wonder what you would've been like."
"Tall," said Nancy immediately. "Look at her, she's almost six feet as it is."
"Don't I know it," said Devin, who was (at best estimate) perhaps 5'8. "And probably handsome, too, since you're very beautiful as it is."
"Hopefully she wouldn't be one of those long-hair people, though," Nancy said. "I mean, some of them look hot, but others..."
"What, like the really scraggly hair?" Devin said.
"But then I guess that's the same as everyone," said Nancy. "Some of us spend a lot of time maintaining our looks, some of us don't. Males as well as females."
"Pimples," said Devin in a mournful tone. "I'm like the Black Death sometimes."
"She never gets them," said Nancy, pointing at Madison. "Evidently that's part of her condition--I guess because she's impervious to testosterone. She just ... Never gets them. I swear, sometimes I'd be willing to trade it all just for that alone."
"Ooh, me too," Devin exclaimed.
"Would you?" Madison said, and the tone of her voice made them stop. "I'd take an eternity of pimples just to be normal."
As always, Nancy laughed it off. "Oh, right. You've never had pimples, Madison, you have no idea what you lucked out of. But hey: everlasting pimples? Maybe we could sell you to OPEC. Solve the nation's energy crisis. The new savior of America: Madison Bech--"
"Nancy," said Devin. "Hush." And Nancy stopped her diatribe and looked over at him, confused.
Devin ignored her. "Madison," he said. "You are just as normal--or as abnormal--as you think you are."
"Yeah, well, right now I think I'm pretty fucking freaky."
"Yes, I can imagine," Devin said. He was kneeling in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to look into her downcast face. "It's hard to find out just how unique you are. It's hard to find out just how alone you are. But it's all in your mind. It's all in how people perceive--"
"Everybody knows, they all think I'm a freak too," Madison muttered.
"It's all in how people perceive your perception of it," Devin said. "Look at Nancy--look at what we just talked about. Look at what you saw about her. You saw something critical: that people treat her like she's unattractive. That she causes people to treat her like she's unattractive. That she thinks she's unattractive. Regardless of the facts, regardless of the truth. And because she thinks it, and exports that attitude, everyone else believes it. And it's exactly the same for you."
"This is completely different," Madison mumbled, trying to fight her tears.
"Ha," Nancy said. "Completely different? Why, because yours is genetic and mine isn't? How are my looks not genetic? How are anybody's looks not genetic?"
"Mine too," Devin said. "A European last name and an Asian face--Madison, I speak to you of this from experience, I'm not making this up. The more you let it be a big deal to you, the more other people will make it a big deal to them."
"So it's all in my head," Madison said. "All of it is just ... In my head. If people are treating me differently, it's my fault."
Before her vision blurred she saw Devin shoot an anxious glance at Nancy. Then she wrenched free of Devin's hands and turned away from them, determined not to let them see her shame.
Behind her, she heard Nancy say, "Do you really think that's true?"
"What is?"
"That ... It's all in our heads."
"Didn't we just prove it?--the three of us?"
"Yes, but then, what does that make Madison?" said Nancy, and there was genuine concern in her voice, without any of the mocking so prevalent with her. "I mean, if she sees herself..."
"Then that's her choice," Devin said firmly. "Haven't we all felt isolated and alienated by our peers? We can choose whether to let that stop us or not. Both choices are valid. It depends on what kind of life you want to live." She heard the smile in his voice: "Me, I didn't want to be completely devoid of human contact, so I chose not to let it stop me."
"But ... Madison isn't just ... I mean, you're normal, by and large. So am I. But Madison..."
"Don't say there's something wrong with her."
"I wasn't going to. There isn't. She's a perfectly normal, perfectly beautiful woman. But you can't deny that she's ... Different."
"No, you can't. Not after all that's gone around at this school. But you can still choose whether to let that stop you or not. What about people in wheelchairs? Heck, what about Stephen Hawking?"
"But ... Some people..."
"Yes, some people. The jerks, right? The ones who keep sniffing around even though they've received your leave-me-alone signals? The ones who keep bugging you and me and Madison because they like causing pain?"
There was no answer.
"Screw them. Forget 'em. As a wise old man once put it: 'If you're holding out for universal popularity, Hagrid, you will be in this hut for a long time.' You can't please everybody. Some people don't want to be pleased. So don't try. It doesn't gain you anything to hurt yourself. Especially not for people who don't deserve that kind of effort."
Lauryn
- 12.09.2020
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