"Getting to Know You" Miss Madsen probably made the first part of her "year-long" assignment tricky on purpose. She was definitely sharp and hardly naïve, but was she really wise enough to assign two people to study each other when they were in fact complete opposites? Gabrielle and Lilian couldn't have been further from each other: one an outgoing redhead, the other a more introverted albino. One was short and a little plumpish; the other was tall and lean. O'Shannon had many friends and a few past lovers; Nachtheim had nobody except her pets. Naturally, during the entire week they were together, they clashed like sword against shield. "So you're German, huh?" Gabrielle had asked, first chance she got. "Well I'm Irish, but I guess that's obvious. I gotta warn ya now, Lil--I can be real straightforward with people. I don't usually beat around the bush and sometimes me mouth gets me in trouble, so if I say anything offensive, don't take it too hard." "Jawhol," she whispered. Gabrielle frowned. "I'm guessin' that means 'okay'." "It does." Gabrielle froze for words--a rarity, really--and then suddenly beamed. "So look, ya wanna join me for lunch and then come on over to my house? I hope y'aren't allergic to hamsters or nothin' cuz' I got one. Oh, that's right; you've got pets! Uh... Strom and Mang?" "Sturm and Mond." "Oh yeah. Hey, I heard'a those names before! They were in Suikoden! You ever play video games?" "Nein." "Oh, ya should! They're so great!! But I guess they don't do too well when ya wanna study. Anyway, Sturm and Mond were the names of these guns--see, there are people in this video game world with guns, and they name them or somethin', and that's what they named these two. I think those words mean star and moon." Lilian nodded, choosing rather to not be drawn into her assignment's babble. "So anyway," continued Gabrielle--or as some cruelly dubbed her, Blabrielle--"ya wanna come over for the night? I'm sure me parents won't mind and we got more'n enough beds. Mom and dad were anticipatin' an Irish family but they only got me, so we got extra beds. I think we're havin' leftover ham from dad's birthday." Lilian just looked at Gabrielle mutely as if the offering were beneath her, but she really was trying to decide what to do. She could get better lodgings and food at her home, but that place bothered her and she usually liked being away from it. And besides, Gabrielle was a short-haired redhead who seemed to express herself well, and Lilian had a soft spot for that sort. "Danke shoen, I'll take you upon your offer." "Great!" she grinned, then leaned in as if to whisper some conspiracy, "This'll make our assignments easier. Oh, uh, Lilian, do you have a boyfriend?" "Nein." "A girlfriend?" She blushed, turning her pale skin a haunting pink color. "Nein." "Oh. Well, I've got a girlfriend, and ya may be seein' her every now an' then, so I hope ya don't mind." Lilian shrugged. Oh well. Gabrielle was too outgoing for her anyway. She needed someone... quieter. "It is your affair." Gabrielle frowned as it seemed her charm was not working on the taller woman. Then again, the school year had just begun and they barely knew each other, so of course there would be some hesitation. But by the end of that week, Gabrielle knew she could make Lilian a friend, or else at least, a very nice acquaintance. Even though both girls were really dedicated to their new task, it was hard being together all day. They shared a lunch (since Stanton's female population was high, lunch was divided into two half-hour sessions) and pooled together after school (her car would've normally been crowded due to her being one of those old enough to drive amongst her friends, but Olivia kindly volunteered to take some of the load), but the only other time they really saw each other was in Ms. Keys' art class. Gabrielle took art because she wanted her junior year to be fun; Lilian took it because she actually had some talent and wanted to focus or expand that talent. Art class would eventually end up not being very fun for Gabrielle, because Ms. Keys expected more out of her students than just painters, sculptors, and goof-offs. It certainly wasn't a waste of time, although Lilian got more out of it. For that first week, instead of sitting with Olivia, Gabrielle sat across Lilian. "What'cha makin'?" she whispered quietly, looking over her assignment's shoulder. The first assignment Ms. Keys asked her class to do was first draw something they hated, then try to make it beautiful. Needless to say it was tough, and poor Gabrielle wasn't much better at drawing than she was at reading. She drew a pathetic skyscraper, colored it silver, and then tried to develop the background as much as possible. It ended up looking like something she would've made in middle school, and didn't really express her intentions. Gabrielle hated high places, not silvery buildings. Lilian sketched a haunting picture of an ornate mirror, and in order to keep its beauty, she didn't allow it to reflect anything. "Damn, you're great!" whispered O'Shannon in wonder. "I wish I had your skill. All I can make is crummy boxes and crap. You look like you actually made that thing with your own hands. Where'd you learn to draw like that?!" "I taught myself," replied Lilian quietly. This only caused Gabrielle to gape even further. "Yourself? You're kiddin'!" "Nein. You can be taught much during the course of boredom." "Whew, I'll say. No wonder I'm so dumb; I'm hardly ever bored!" Gabrielle tried to make herself a joke, but it backfired and Lilian started to pity her. "You're not really dumb. You may lack things here and there, but on the whole I guess we are equals. You are very good with expressing yourself and are comfortable in social situations. I suppose you even love the way you look." Gabrielle looked down at her body and all the sixty-four kilos she supported, and became glum. "I could stand to lose some weight, but yeah, I'm cool." Lilian shook her head, sighed, and became lost in her white hands. "I would give up my talents to have all that. This may sound very silly, but you should never say how bad you have it, because somebody else may want all the things you say are no good." She revealed herself for awhile, finally smiling out of amusement. "And I said my drawings were no good." "Oh, that you did." Gabrielle beamed at her, and Lilian felt a little better about herself and her situation. But not by much, and the feeling disappeared after art class. The rest of the day was glum and quiet, and people paid little heed to the soft-spoken albino until the end of the day, where she was waved to the parking lot by an enthusiastic redhead. "Hey, Frau Lilian! Have a good day?!" Lilian smiled and quickened her pace a notch. Having people greet her in such a friendly matter was a foreign concept to her, so it would take time to get used to. Gabrielle kept her charming smile as she asked dull questions in a cheerful voice, and introduced Lilian to the friends that did not take Olivia's car, Blake and Victoria. "Janine lives closer over there anyway. Say, where do you live, Lil? Maybe I can come over to your place sometime and watch a movie. If we're gonna study each other--" "Don't bother," sighed the poor girl. "You would not like it. I don't mean to be rude, but I don't think your presence would be appreciated. If it were up to me, really, I'd rather go over at your place." Gabrielle completely missed the depressing subtlety of her words and simply cooed from the flattery. After gushing over how sweet she believed her new "friend" to be, she started her car and drove home, letting the radio do the talking for once. Neither Blake nor Victoria had been invited over to their assignments' houses, but neither one were quite as gregarious as their Irish friend. Blake didn't need to be invited anywhere, seeing as how she and Aintzane were going to be on the same soccer team. Gabrielle first dropped her two friends off, then steered home with Lilian in tow. For the record, Miss Nachtheim had never been invited anywhere (except very high-class social parties which she hated anyway), not even for birthdays. She literally had no friends, and hated herself for it. Being called over somewhere so suddenly seemed unreal, but she liked it a lot better than wandering around the park for hours or sitting home studying. Mr. and Mrs. O'Shannon were not nearly as upbeat as their daughter, but they still took Lilian aback with their friendliness. They even embarrassed her, and their daughter, by asking "is this that girlfriend of yours you talked about so much?". "No, mother, that's Ayanna. They don't even look alike! Lilian's just me assignment in English cla--I mean, Lit n' Writing class. I'm supposed to hang around her and get to know her better. By the end of the school year, I'll have been with everyone in class." "Well that's a great way to make friends!" exclaimed her mother. She apologized for her mistake and offered drinks. Gabrielle's father started dinner and forced everyone out of the kitchen--"where he makes his art," said the two women--leaving the two girls to start their homework. "Let's start with me, since I'm the host," began Gabrielle. Lilian agreed and took out a notebook. "Today, the basics. My full name is Gabrielle Kareen O'Shannon. I'm Irish by birth and nature; me great-grandfather immigrated to America during the turn of the century. I'm sixteen and a half years old, a junior, I'm 1.66 meters and 64 kilos, or 5'3" and 141 pounds, whichever ya like. I have green eyes, short fuzzy red hair, and I usually wear ripped jeans and a dark-blue Tee, me favorite. "I'm pretty cheery, sociable, and really loyal to me friends, and it takes a lot to make me really mad. On the other hand, I do get sensitive about things and I can sometimes get real stressed--and when I get stressed, it shows. Remember that report I read? A good example. I'm also dyslexic, of course, and I'm acrophobic, afraid of heights. My hobbies are feeding and watching birds, sunning, though it's hard to do in a neighborhood like this, and I also love playin' with me gerbil Muraki." "Anything else?" asked Lilian once she finished making notes. Gabrielle smiled shyly but brightly. "Uh, well, I'm lesbian, and my parents are okay with that. My first girlfriend dumped me when I was fifteen, and I just got another one yesterday. Well, I guess we're official, anyway. And, uh, as I said in class... I have an apron fetish." At this the bravado fell away again, and the red traveled from her hair to her cheeks. It was amusing to see somebody like her turn into such a shy girl, but whatever made her do it must've been powerful. Lilian couldn't help but be attracted to the cute gesture; she had a thing for redheads. "Uh... ja..." "Gab, Lilian, supper's ready!" Gabrielle snapped out of her trance and clapped, jumping to her feet before Lilian knew it. "That's dada! Hope you like ham. Don't worry, he can make anything taste good, even if it's been cold in the fridge for a few days." Having no objection towards food, Lilian rose to her feet and went into the kitchen. The O'Shannon family was technically Catholic, but they didn't normally pray before meals and neither did Lilian, so they went directly to dinner and had a nice, animated conversation, sans television. That worked out very well since Lilian hated TV and rarely watched it. After dinner and dessert, both girls were excused for the evening to finish their work. Even though they both knew they had all week to become acquainted, they wanted to get the basics out of the way. Knowing each other even a little would help in the future, and besides, only a few classes gave homework out on the second day. Gabrielle and Lilian put themselves in a private room and resumed their work in privacy. "So what about you?" asked the younger girl. "You're a mystery as far as I know. You didn't say too much in class and you barely talk out of it." Lilian shrugged. "Only because I feel that people won't listen." "Well I'm listening." "Only because you have no choice." "Hey, I'm listening!" she insisted rather loudly. "And ya know what? Well okay, so I never woulda approached you any other way, but since I was forced into it, I really do wanna know more about you. Maybe we could be friends." Lilian just had to smile at the idea, in spite of being completely different from the chipper woman. She had never had a friend before, least of all one who invited her over or said hello after school. And of course, although she didn't know it, being drawn into Gabrielle's circle of friends meant that she got at least four others along the way. "That would be very nice," she admitted in a bittersweet whisper. Lilian kept her smile and brushed her long ponytail of silver hair away, then took a breath. Since she rarely spoke for long periods, Lilian had to stop sometimes and clear her throat with water, and her Teutonic accent made things a bit rough. "I am Lilian Nachtheim, Deutschland immigrant, and seventeen years old, a senior. My parents are very strict and do not let me have much fun; instead they say I've got to study and keep the family's integrity." "What do you mean?" "Some utter nonsense," she snorted carelessly. "I'm from a noble family, or so they say. The Nachtheims have been influential in Deutschland for many generations." "No WAY!!!!" Gabrielle nearly fell over to the floor after hearing that. Of course she had no idea that Lilian was nobility or even from a famous family, and of course a person on her "common" level was bowled over by the sudden revelation. "That's awesome! So are you like rich or somethin'?!" "I suppose," sighed Lilian wearily, "but it's nothing like you think it is. Everything's a huge bore and it feels like you are in prison most of the day. I could have anything, but there is really no point since I am not the right age--plus, since I am my parents' only child, I will probably be married off to someone I do not even like." "Oh, man!" grimaced Gab. "That's terrible! I'd get out of there as soon as I could!" "That's what I've been trying to do all this time. I had to beg them to let me attend a more public school instead of those filthy places with so many rich snobs, and it was all I could do to keep them off my back. I do not hate my parents, I just hate what they're doing and how they're dictating my life. The fortune I'm entitled to when I grow up is not worth all this." Lilian said no more and drew up her knees to her chest in a heartbreaking defensive maneuver. Gabrielle's heart went out towards the poor girl, and she scooted closer while trying to console her. "What's worse is the way I look," she continued. "Had I been born normal, I might not have minded as much, but they treat me like I am a disease on the family. All this white skin, these red eyes that get so sensitive, and gray hair before my twenties make them seem uncomfortable. They do all they can since I'm their only child, but I have the feeling that if I had a sister or brother--probably a brother--they'd just forget about me completely, like in Prince Caspian." "That's awful!" whispered Gabrielle, covering her mouth. She came very close to Lilian and put her arms around her, something that had not happened to the albino for many, many years. The hug surprised her, but it was given back automatically without any thought. She didn't cry, however, which might not have been a good thing; tears were good to heal inner wounds. She just sighed and let go of the other girl. "Ja, let's go on. Anyway, I don't flaunt my status, as you could see: I don't wear jewels except for a little earring, and I dress quite normally without using expensive clothes. I only use those when I'm forced to. I try to be as helpful as I can, but sometimes I think I just get in the way. The only time I even feel happy is when I'm drawing or playing with my pets. Oh," she added with a sad smile, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, Gabrielle, but I am biased in attraction towards redheads, and I love it when people can express their feelings. I am just a bit disappointed to hear you have a girlfriend." "Oh, gee." Poor Gabrielle just blushed, and coughed, and nothing else needed to be said about that. The girls merely wrapped their work up, went to sleep in different rooms, and became friends after that. Despite how Hitomi Madsen planned her class' socialization homework, she couldn't do it perfectly. To be honest, Blake and Aintzane knew each other, but only a little and only because they had both been on the same soccer and track teams. To be paired together for this new assignment was really a stroke of luck--at best, a good excuse to learn about each other in a more detailed manner. So far, all they knew was that Blake was an excellent runner and Aintzane (or just Zane) was a good albeit eccentric amateur designer. The girls had science class together with Ms. McGowen as their teacher, and also P.E. with Leena (wherein they both stayed after to practice for their sports). Baum and Klein had never been particularly close and knew each other better through reputation, although they definitely respected each other's skills and relied upon the other during games. They didn't share a lunch, so the best time to get acquainted was during and after practice. "I know a little bit about you, but probably not enough to get a good grade," said Blake casually as the two girls watched their classmates practicing. They were taking a break from the game, so it was a good time to start acquainting. "So, um, tell me some things. You don't have to get into detail; just share a few little things." Aintzane Klein was a very complex, slightly weird young woman whose personality opposed itself: impatient yet slowish, mindful yet lost in thought, feminine yet sporty, she was hard to understand and thus, no wonder there were so many rumors about her. Despite being half-German, half-French, her accent was hard to pick up. "I make my own clothes, but you know that," she began, sipping some juice in a box. "I also love to get muddy and bloody, hence my soccer status. I can be very eccentric, which I admit to, but I'm also quite functional and at times, gasp, even precise. I've been called a generous woman, which is quite true since I usually donate whatever I make, and I'm pretty quick to learn new things. This year I'm taking a lot of different classes so I get a good experience before I graduate. I speak both my family languages fluently, plus the Queen's English and just a bit of the President's American." This was one of her favorite jokes, expressing just how different English and "Amerianese" were. "In spite of my vulgar taste of masochism, I really like to read too, and I'm very fond of sailing. I guess a part of me is like an elf, always yearning for the sea. I'm a big fan of Bluegrass music, so much so that I taught myself to play the banjo. I still sleep with a stuffed animal, my favorite little blue Cookie Monster, and I have a terrible addiction to chocolate." "Who doesn't?" murmured Blake, trying to write everything down. She had forgotten to take her medications, so oftentimes her eyes wandered to the girls practicing on the field or some noise that had came up. Zane had to repeat herself quite a bit, but she liked being attended to anyway. Fortunately Miss Baum did not interrupt, and so aside from a few "Uh, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention" moments, the process went along fine. "Now for the bad stuff," grunted Klein, cracking her knuckles soundly. "First of all, I'm proud of me being smart enough to know how bad I am. It's always been my thought that if a person admits they're really not good, that's the first step to becoming good. I do get lost in thought a whole bunch so I sympathize with your attention deficit disorder. I'm impatient as a New Yorker but pretty slow on my own, and a lot of people spread rumors about me, most of them in bad taste. I'm sorry to say at least half of them have some accuracy." "I've never heard of any," murmured Blake, trying to scribble the notes down. Zane shrugged. "It's just a bit of everything. My friends hear them and tell me about them, and sometimes I get a big laugh about it. Other times I wanna go home and cry. I'm really emotional when it comes to these things, and sometimes I get so worked up--well, most of the time, really--I can't sleep. I've got bad insomnia, which may explain the random bouts of insanity." Blake snickered, but it was okay since it was meant to be a joke (in spite of its truth). "I don't like school in general," snorted Zane after awhile, "but I really hate math. It's just... all those numbers and rules. They seem to change rules every time I think I understand, and sometimes it feels like my whole head's about to blow. Abi's a cool teacher, but she still doesn't make math appealing." Blake couldn't write everything down--not only because she was slow with a pen and her hand started to cramp, but Leena had also asked them to return to the field for more practice. The girls were forced to put their assignment on hold until later. Blake and Zane had more than just their social assignments to complete, and since they had such a workload (and a whole week to become acquainted), they decided to go to their own homes for the day and meet again before school to finish it up. Of course, it would do no good to just learn facts about a person. Miss Madsen had wanted her students to really know each other by the end of the week (thus giving them a longer time instead of just a day or two), and having a few facts on hand wouldn't do. The next morning, Blake finished her study of Zane Klein while Zane Klein began her study of Blake. Aintzane Rikke Klein was very tall and hefty for a woman, boasting a proud 5'11" and 165 pounds, enough to make her pass off as an average man. She had great impish eyes and curly red hair that came to her neck, which was much longer considering her height. She wore the clothes she had made a few weeks earlier, reflecting the silvery mood she was going through. Blake was puny compared to Zane. At 5'2" and a healthy 120 pounds (in the back of her mind, she was shamed to not know what the measurements were in metric), Blake Freda Baum was slightly petite and somewhat concerned over her weight. She was a Jewish sophomore in high school, very soon to turn sixteen, and was very conservative about her legs and bust. Since it was early autumn, she wore clothes that reflected the season of dying embers; her dark rusty hair accentuated this. Her eyes were dark and inattentive thanks to the disorder she had coped with since middle school. Blake countered the deficiency with track, which acted as a sort of medicine when the real pills weren't around. She had become a very good runner and had dreams of being an Olympiad. Blake liked to read but she took ages to finish books since there was always something distracting her, good or bad, and there was an artistic side to her that allowed plenty of space for her quirks. Even a lazy, sloppy, mostly antisocial girl such as she could make good art once in awhile. Blake liked girls (Aintzane acted indifferent towards any gender), but she would need a patient lover to cope with her. She would need someone who didn't have to be the center of attention, someone who could daydream with her and keep up with her laziness. Blake was terribly embarrassed by her figure so any potential girlfriends could NOT point anything out, even if they meant it as a compliment. Unlike most of her friends, she had not been given the chance to have a lover. Even Janine, who was a professed heterosexual, had a lesbian encounter once. "I guess we're both a little messed up," sighed Blake as she and Zane hung out around Miss Madsen's door. Klein shrugged. "I hope she didn't intend for this assignment to feel so depressing. I usually like talking about myself, but if I open up anymore, I'm gonna cry. There are just some things I don't like about myself." "I think that if there's somebody who says they're all okay, they really don't know themselves at all. At least we recognize our deficiencies and lament over them, and perhaps day by day, we strive towards improvement, however futile it may end up becoming." Silence. Aintzane chuckled. "Whoa, that was really deep!" Blake frowned and shrugged, not sure what to make of it herself. "I suppose that spending an extended time with medications running through me can produce such intellectualism, but I swear I'll be back to my quirky self in no-time." "I honestly don't know which is more fun!" proclaimed the taller girl, resting her hands behind her head. Blake rolled her eyes, and whistled "Twisted Nerve", which was by coincidence Ayanna Montgomery's favorite song. Olivia Johnson was assigned the task of studying Mira van Dijk, and the two hit it off pretty well despite what differences laid between them. Mira was a little younger, but because of matters too complicated for even Olivia to understand, she was put in the junior class. She was certainly bright enough to handle the advancements, as was the case when she did her report on a salad dinner, but the woman was such a fierce procrastinator and goof-off that Olivia feared getting a failing grade. And she didn't want that. It turned out that it would be totally impossible to not find out anything about Miss van Dijk in spite of her laziness. Several things were obvious from mere inspection; staying around her and listening to her endearing Dutch voice made more things clear. Van Dijk was a fun-loving, open-minded, easygoing girl who had a good political mind in her head despite the vast amount of cartoons she watched. Like many women Olivia knew, she was a redhead, but she hardly acted like Blake or Gabrielle or anyone else, except for the peppiness. Now Mira wasn't a saint; she didn't take her political life seriously until a few days after she nominated herself, and even then her plans were too simple and innocent to stand on ground. She had a very short temper and while she remained merry, it did not take too much to offend her (as Olivia learned many times the hard way). The woman constantly told blonde jokes and marveled at how "many of them, in spite of possibly having a mind, choose instead to remain as they are; mere dumb blondes". She also was lousy at sports, but Olivia was sometimes sickly and uncoordinated so that never became a big issue. Mira had the politeness to invite Olivia over to her house for some fun; they were to start a fresh game of Warhammer since Mira and her friends had completed one before the semester, and then a supper of fine taco salad and choice Danish entries would be served. Then, if Mira were reminded harshly enough, she and her "new friend" would do their homework before settling into a discussion of Terry Pratchett, or else a night of anime or South Park. Olivia drank up everything and found her Dutch classmate fascinating and very entertaining, and on the whole loveable in spite of her mean temper. And then Mira asked her out on a date. "You don't waste time, do you?" remarked Olivia dryly. Mira just shrugged. "I said in class I was dyke. I may not act like one, but is true. If I've offended you..." "No, you haven't," sighed Johnson, "it's just... a little too weird, personally. I mean, I guess I kinda like girls too, but... well, it's complex. Besides, I think you're just a little too fun-loving for me. I couldn't really be with someone who didn't take things with gravity." "Um, yes." "I'm basically saying thanks but no thanks," she clarified, trying not to sound rude. Mira pouted but accepted it, then reasoned that it was probably too sudden anyway. And oh, Olivia had said, by the way, she did not want to help "hook" Mira up with any of her friends. Except maybe Blake, but... "Blake?" "Yeah, Blake Baum. The cute redhead with ADD in our class. You're probably going to be asked to look into her life soon anyway, so maybe you can save the date for her. I know she'll say yes; the poor thing's never even had a girlfriend before." "Ah, so she likes girls, this Blake Baum?" "Yeah, but she's had it tough. She kinda envies the rest of us because we've all had girlfriends before--even Janine, and she swears she's straight." Mira blinked, looking rather amazed, and shook her head. She would definitely keep that in mind! "So Blake Baum... ah, okay, I will ask her. And she will say yes?" Olivia's face went glum and weary, as if burdened by some thing foreign to her own awareness. "I'd be surprised if she didn't. Anyway, that's the extend of my hooking-up-ness. Now please, if you don't mind?" Mira grinned cheerfully (being already inside her room with Olivia, having to cancel Warhammer because of Johnson's schoolwork), sat by the unused desk in her room, and went for the computer. She liked typing much more than writing, although she could write better in Dutch. "Olivia Deborah Johnson," she began aloud, "age sixteen, five-foot-three, one thirty-five pounds. Uh, that's about 1.66 meters and 62 kilos, I think. Maybe sixty-one. Ugh, damned glasses." She fixed them, pushing them back up the bridge of her nose, and resumed. "They slip a lot," she explained. "Uh, well I like candles and new age--if you saw my room, you'd know--and I'm a big fan of European history, old and new. England, France, Germany--hey, even Denmark and the Netherlands." "Cool!" squealed Mira. She was already liking Olivia a bit. "I'm also fond of animals, though not spiders or flies, or any other arachnid for that matter. I used to have a pet turtle but it died, so I'm thinking of getting a dog. I can profess without ego that I speak eloquently--that's probably due to my trip to the Blarney Stone some years back with the girls. Good times." Now Mira didn't know about the Blarney Stone, so Olivia had to explain quickly (because she knew the poor girl would never look into it herself). "So you have been to Ireland! How was it?" "Cold, damp, and smelly, but nice on the whole. They have very nice soup there. You should've seen Gab, though; you'd think she was home or something." Olivia chuckled at her own tasteless joke, and Mira got it after thinking about it for a few seconds. "Anyway," she coughed, "back to the, uh, interview. Now people will say I'm polite and generous, and I guess sometimes it's true, but I have plenty of bad moments. I'm usually pretty tongue-tied, but when I have an audience I can really get going, as you can hear. I'm afraid to say I'm clumsy at times, mostly because of a somewhat gimpy leg," (and here she showed Mira her leg, which didn't look as well as the other, and then explained how it alone accounted for part of her sickliness, misery, and uncoordinated action) "and I'm hardly as happy as my other friends. Probably because I've been restricted from doing lots of fun things." "You can have fun with me later," sang Mira. Olivia smiled and promised she would, but not too much since she still had work. "I can get pretty flaky sometimes, so I'm not to be relied on," she warned. "And I can be very depressing to be around, but I do have my honesty and self-awareness to fall back on. As for my type, I tend to like people who are aggressive, who know what they're doing. I'm a bit of that myself; my cousin Ayanna is more so. I do like redheads, but I also have a thing for brunettes, and I'd like to be around a girl who doesn't sit idly by in silence. Needless to say, my last girlfriend was the exact opposite, and we weren't very good as lovers." "Oh." Mira had a hard time keeping up, even on a keyboard. Olivia really did go on and on, and always seemed to have something else to say, usually negative. She couldn't get a question or word in, and sometimes fretted over not saving the lengthy document (Mira's computer was infamous for its inopportune crashes). But she got through it all, including a description of her assignment: Olivia wore casual clothes, though nothing nearly as casual as Mira's collection of anime and cartoon shirts, and her tree-bark hair had bright bloody streaks through it as it ended in a tip of a tail. She had pleasant dark skin several shades lighter than her hair, and eyes that matched, but looked quite bored. As promised, she remedied that by watching a few episodes of "Trigun" with Mira, though got to work before long. Not surprisingly, Mira's mind was no longer on her work. Her anticipation leaned closer to the promise of a potential girlfriend in a person she had never formally met and barely knew. Olivia, like Zane and Blake before her, began to believe Madsen's assignment had some depression in it. Unburying memories of her last and only love gave Olivia's heart a stab, and a part of her yearned to be trapped in that cage of flesh again. Her ex was the best when it came to hugs. Needless to say, Victoria Grissom and Alex "X" Walker did not get along very well. Aside from the wide gap in their age--one a freshman, the other a senior--there was a difference in attitude, disposition, reputation, and practically everything else. They only looked reasonably alike: both were a little punkish, but Victoria was on the "cute" spectrum and X leaned towards the Gothic side. Neither one was very sociable, so there was an understandable wall of ice between them that would need breaking. Perhaps in an apropos way, they shared psychology together. They also had a science class, but socialization and studying each other would have to take a far back seat. Victoria was the type of person to hide from view, to stay in the crowd during an event. She was the kind of friend who only seemed average, yet popped up every now and then with an idea or philosophy, usually given at awkward times. She had the most awful sense of timing and wording, as she could readily say the wrong thing at just the right time. And like two of her four friends, she was a redhead, though her hair was the longest. Alex Walker intimidated Victoria. The two decided, sometime into the week, that they had better start examining each other or else they'd fail for sure. Yet that wall of ice was still there and even harder to crack. They stared at each other for awhile, neither one quite good at confrontations, before Walker cleared her throat and started. "So, uh... you like stuff?" Needless to say, she didn't have a future in diplomacy. "Uh, um, I, uh, I guess." Walker cleared her throat and tried again. "So, uh, we got an assignment together." "Yeah." "We're supposed to tell that teacher about each other or something." "A-huh." "And, uh... so... what's there about you?" Victoria mutely shrugged. She was a little scared of Walker, but she was even more afraid of saying the wrong thing. Most of her friends took her random words with a grain of salt and forgave her, but those not accustomed to hearing her speak her mind were taken aback with embarrassment. "Um... I like your... uh... you look really... uh... cool." "Thanks, I guess." It was a gruff statement, muttered out by someone who just didn't know how to respond. "And you're... uh... real cute." "You think so?" she squeaked. "I, uh..." "That cute punk chick look really works for you." "You think so?" Grissom hung her head in embarrassment, getting a small glimpse at herself. She was smallish and average, with said hair of fire curling down to where she shrugged the most. She was pale from lack of sun, and her eyes looked like jewels of the ocean, both circular and swimming with depth. Like Alex, she wore no jewels and kept mostly black clothes. She had light boots on that she couldn't part with, and a pair of glasses completed the cute look. She smiled. "Um, thanks. Uh... yeah, thanks." "Not going too well, is it?" Walker frowned and sighed. Grissom shook her head. Alex Walker was usually the one who aggressed and got things done. She was very hardworking albeit lazy, and usually didn't care about things unless she felt like it. She was just too unlike Vicki, though, so the two women might've needed a second week to get their affairs in order. "Listen," said Alex after a moment of silence, "this isn't getting us anywhere and we got a week to finish the whole thing. Do you go anywhere after school to relax?" "Just home." "Man," she snorted. "Well, you like coffee?" "A bit. I can't have alcohol, though; I get drunk easily." "Well!" sang the older girl. "Now we see some things coming out! That's some pretty useful information, Miss Vicki! Well anyway, I asked because I usually go to this dark hole in the wall after school to unwind, and they usually have nice food and coffee there. Sometimes they have poetry readings too. It's kind of a beatnik place, but it beats going home and listening to the bitch." (By that she meant her own mother, whom she could not withstand) "I guess I could go," shrugged Grissom in reply, "but I don't know the way." "Well you know where the student parking lot is?" "Yes." "Meet me there after class and I'll take you. You ever ridden on a Vespa?" "No. That's like a moped, right?" "Yeah, something. Anyway, if you want..." "All right." Vicki smiled, and since it seemed a good time to part--right before their next class began--they split ways and went about their day. X Walker had a time trying to remind herself that this was not going to be a date. Alex's "dark hole in the wall" was a really nice place, and aside from the small lights dotted around that really made it dark (but not in a bad way), her description was inaccurate. It was a coffee shop married to a small theater: music played through it on most hours of the day, either through radio or by performance of some amateur musician; poetry was indeed recited atop the stage, as Vicki became witness to, and the coffee wasn't bad either. The Vespa ride was the most uncomfortable since the only thing she had to hang onto was Alex herself, and the wind was merciless to her long hair. She quickly learned to keep her glasses on tight--one so they wouldn't fall, and two so they'd shield her eyes--and despite how slowly the bike went, Vicki still had to gasp to breathe. Her friends would be orange with jealousy. "So," asked Walker once she and Grissom settled into a corner, "you like it so far?" Victoria nodded and smiled mutely, and tried the coffee. She didn't usually drink it unless it had a healthy portion of cream and sugar, but that particular flavor was pretty gentle to her mouth. The Danish she ordered paired with the drink nicely, and except for the times where they were interrupted by another laureate potential, their conversation went uninterrupted. "So tell me a little bit about yourself... uh, Vicki, right?" "Mm-hmm. Well... aside from the things I said at the first day of class, there's really not much else." "Come on, there's got to be more to you than... whatever you said that day. Okay," she sighed in defeat, "I guess you better start over again since I didn't exactly pay attention." Vicki smiled shyly and resigned herself. "Well, um, first of all, I'm not related to the CSI character. I get that sometimes. I'm one of the few girls I know that like insects, and I actually have a pet spider at home named Dick Tracey." "Dick Tracey?" "You gotta name them something," she shrugged. "Uh... what else? Well, I have an allergy to cats. I'm a pretty good listener, so I don't talk a whole awful lot, and I can keep secrets. I, uh, also have really bad timing. I can never seem to get to anywhere on time, which is probably why I don't have a job, and I tend to blurt things out at the most inappropriate times." "Oh? Like what?" "That's a secret," she whispered mysteriously, her eyes ebbing. Walker snickered. "Oh, okay. Well, anything else?" She nodded. "I'm mostly Welsh, though I don't look or sound like it. Even Gabrielle doesn't know that I'm part Irish too. I guess the hair and eyes give it away." "Eh, I couldn't tell." "Oh. Um, I've got a pretty big family, with me being the middle child. I have an older brother and sister, and a younger brother and sister. What about you?" "Oh. Are you asking about my family, or are you shifting from You to Me?" "Uh... both, I guess. There's really not much else." "I can't turn that in," murmured Walker, leaning back into her seat. "But I guess it's a start. Anyway, I was gonna be a boy, and my parents wanted to name me Xavier, but I turned out to be a girl. That's where the 'X' comes from, if you wanna know." "Oh." "I'm a mutt when it comes to ethnicities," she boasted. "A little bit of everything flows through me. I bet you and I are related, if you'd look hard enough. Anyway... I'm a big jock, and I guess it shows since I'm gonna be on the soccer team. I like karate more, and I've been on the kendo club since it began. Uh... what else? Oh! This isn't my real hair color." She tugged on her rough purple hair, yanking out a few slivers. "It's really brown, but I hate that color. It looks like shit." "I don't mind brown," murmured Vicki quietly. "Brown is the color of maple syrup and chocolate, and chestnut wood." "Meh." Alex Walker snorted and finished her coffee. "Too bad you don't get free refills," she remarked absently. There was silence again, and the girls reflected on what they had heard. A poetry reading delayed their conversation. The fly said to the wall, I don't want you to fall Crumble down on me world and send me dreadfully spiraling I hate the season of fall cuz it makes me sing dead All my family goes wrong and there's no song in my head The wall said to the fly, brother you in the wrong place I'll stay up long after you done left the mortal coil So in order to save face I'll have to ask you to leave Fall down like in autumn and find some other hot spot Then the fly flittered way and found himself a drink Down down to the valley where his next day awaited. "That was weird," remarked Vicki. Alex smiled. "I've heard stranger. So where were we? I think that fly poem was just the thing we needed to break the ice." Vicki looked up at her host and gave a cute smile, then finished her own drink. "No free refills?" "No, none." "You were saying about yourself?" "Oh, that's right! Well...... what was I saying?" "You don't like your hair." "Yeah, yeah. Hey, you paid attention!" Victoria grinned and blushed, leaving Alex to think her all the cuter. "Well, um, sometimes I dye it blonde, but purple's more my style. It's not nearly as ordinary as yellow or brown." "You really don't see it on any woman, unless they're older." "Right, right. So am I old?" "Oh! Uh, I didn't mean to say it like that! See, I told you I blurt things out!" Walker laughed out loud, and forgave her acquaintance once she settled down. "It's okay! I was just having some fun! Wow, that really freaks you out when you say the wrong thing, doesn't it?" Vicki nodded quietly, and Alex, though she was having fun at the poor girl's expense, apologized and resumed. "Anyway, there's more to me than that. I'm a big thrill-seeker and I'll do just about anything if it's fast, fun, exciting, or stupid. I daydream a whole lot, and when I get going, I can get real philosophical and shit. Oh... and as for an added bonus, I always write in the nude." "You do?" If Vicki hadn't been blushing before, she sure turned red then. It was hard to imagine X Walker sitting at her computer with just a watch or choker on--not that Vicki tried!!! Unfortunately she did, and wished she had not. "Ah, getting some ideas?" sang X. Vicki turned even redder, making her creamy face turn an adorable pink color. "No! No! I was... I mean, what you said surprised me!" Alex laughed again, and apologized again for having so much fun at the smaller girl's expense. But really, she said, poor Vicki sometimes brought it on herself. And she was so cute when she turned red. "Do you have a crush on me?!" she blurted suddenly. The haste and power of the question was too great to be just a random slip of the tongue; Victoria really wanted to know and almost seemed angry that Alex was teasing her so much without anything to say for it. She knew from experience that when a person teased somebody else to this degree, it meant they usually liked them. Fortunately, it wasn't the case for Miss Walker. "Nah, you're not my type, and I got a feeling I'm not yours. What, you like girls or something?" Vicki became utterly quiet and withdrawn, and Alex knew instantly. "Oh, okay. Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, I dunno if you wanna flaunt it or anything, but it's definitely not as bad as people make it out to be. Personally, I don't even see the big deal. This one time I went to church purposely dressed as a dyke, or butch, or punk, or whatever you wanna call it, and I had the time of my life freaking those small-minded Bible-thumpers. It's necessary for people like me to go into those places--if nothing else, to keep them on their toes. What would Jesus do, indeed!?" Alex had a little laugh and downed a glass of water she had ordered. She noticed the look on Victoria's face and explained herself. "Sorry. I usually ramble on like that. Like I said, whenever I get going, I become philosophical. And you may say that a person like me would be the last kind you'd expect in a church, but that's exactly why I like going. I mean, I'm not religious or anything; I just get a kick out of scaring everyone there. It's so hilarious, really. Ah, it's probably too deep for me to appreciate." She smiled and finished her water, finally seeming comfortable around her quiet companion. Victoria, having way more information than she had asked for, decided not to risk the moment with words and excused herself for the day--but since she had been motored over there, Alex kindly volunteered to motor her back home. And it did not end up being like a date at all. After Victoria's occasional lack of verbal restraint, Blake's inability to focus, Olivia's bouts of sickness and depression, and Gabrielle's flashiness, Janine Bautista seemed perfectly normal. Amongst her four friends she did seem to be the one who epitomized most the "average girl", although the term "average" was unfair to anyone. She had her unique traits, but when paired next to her other companions, it was like a candle compared to a flame. Perhaps that was why she and May Tramble got along well early on into their assignment. Out of all the pairs, they were perhaps the most alike and least likely to find discomfort in their studies. There were slight differences, such as Janine's spoiled background and May's lack of social life; they also shared different views on optimism, had incredibly different tastes when it came to hobbies and entertainment, and their ancestry was like East and West. But they found reason within each other quickly, for they were both considered quite sane in a crazy environment. The only thing intimidating about Janine was her choice of apparel: she had a vast wardrobe with multiple styles for each time and season, and at least three accessories for each type just in case her mood was a little wavy. On the other hand, she was endearingly naïve--not stupid, just unaware of many things outside her personal zone, which might've accounted for her optimism. May believed the damning adage that ignorance was bliss, and hence lamented her intelligence. Janine, ever-friendly, tried inviting May to some of her loves. She loved to dance and act, and was a shoe-in for the productions that Ms. Post always put on. She was also good at volleyball and had been a good cheerleader in middle school, but since neither sport was offered at Stanton, she practiced off campus and left soccer, something she was only fair at, to those with the skill. May was just not into sports. In return for the effort, May asked Janine to go hiking for the weekend--and by hiking, she meant climbing a large hilly forest that grew a few miles out of town. May had an uncanny sense of direction and rarely got lost, and was quite nimble on her feet in spite of favoring no sport. She let Janine do most of the talking since she hated small talk and had little else on her mind. "I've known them all my life," said Janine on the forest trail, referring to her four friends. "I met most of them in fourth grade. We're all about the same age, except for Vicki, who we met in middle school. We've been through a lot together, and it hasn't always been great. But if I had to trust something to somebody, they'd all be at the top of my list." "I wish I had a good group of friends like that," sighed May, moping a little. "All I really have is my sister. This is my senior year in high school, so I bet I won't find any lasting relationships. And now here comes the part where you ask me to join your circle." "Huh?" May stopped and turned to face the younger woman. "Well, after all I said, I'm only assuming from study and speculation that you'll invite me, or at least comfort me in some fashion." A pause. "......Uh..." "Sorry," murmured the young Miss Tramble. "I've gotten very good at predicting human behavior. I guess it comes from not having any friends: they're a blessing, but when they're not there, you have to fill the void somehow. I've spent all the time I should have been with friends on study, speculation, and thought, which is a pretty dangerous thing to do. I've realized that people become very predictable and don't usually stray from it." "Uh, yeah... look, uh..." "Never mind. It's my pessimism talking." May shrugged and resumed hiking, leaving Janine dumb. "Oh, uh, waitasecond! Are you saying you want to hang out with me and my friends?" "I would like to!" she professed with a sad smile. "But I don't know if they'll have me. I tend to be in a sour mood most of the time, and I'm not a good talker." "So? We only have one person who ever talks, old Blabrielle--the rest of us just hang out and speak up whenever something's on our mind. You won't have to talk or anything." "Yeah, but won't I ruin your circle or clique or whatever it is?" "No, no! We could always use more! Hell, after this week, I'd assume we'd have twice our numbers--after all, the others are saying they're getting to know a lot of people, and if it's anything like you and me," (which was actually saying something very kind since the two still were strangers) "then we'll have five other friends!" May nodded her head in contemplation and began to see Janine's point. "Mm-hmm. That teacher of ours sure knows her stuff." "Yeah. I've never had anyone assign things like she has. Of course, I got the weird job, or one of the weird ones. I really liked your report." "Thanks. Do you have a sister?" "Nope," she said, "I'm an only child." May frowned. "That must be tough. I mean, June's a handful but she's really strong. She's getting more and more independent. Soon she'll only need me as a sister and not an assistant." "I wish I were that independent!" remarked Janine with a smile. "I'm sorry to say, but I tend to lean on people a lot--more than I should." "At least you're aware of it. I think it's a mark of strength when a person knows their own bad qualities. At least knowing about them is a step towards purging them. It's the difference between remorse and guilt..." "Too complicated for me!" stated Janine sharply, holding her hand up. The poor girl got easily confused and could barely hang onto what May was saying. Tramble smiled and apologized, and the girls continued their hike. Due to their similarities, they had gotten good grades on their report on each other, but how strange was it that they were still together and finding more about each other after it was done? That evening, Janine shared a few dry jokes with May, and a special secret that only her close friends knew. May felt humbled and flattered, but then reasoned that since Janine invited her into "her circle", it applied to her anyway. Janine casually remarked that all five of them had had experiences with other women at some pointing their lives, but only three of the five were genuinely, without a doubt, positively interested in relationships with the same sex. In short, she affiliated with lesbians, and she had dabbled into it once--or more accurately, been coerced into it. "It sounds like a Penthouse letter, but it's really true," she said quietly, looking up at the sky. The two had rested on the peak of the hill, sitting atop a large stone that had been on that ground since ages ago. Evening was coming and soon Sunday would approach, and Janine Bautista continued. "It was... awhile ago. This... other girl, a junior back then, came up to me in the locker room and told me she had a crush on me. I didn't know how to take it. By that time I was accustomed to things like this; I mean, Gab and Blake were already on terms with themselves, and Olivia and Vicki were a couple, so I was really the only one left who hadn't... you know. "Well, back then, I didn't know how to react. I was frozen stiff. And you know how these things are. At first she didn't know whether I was mortified or interested, so I guess she chose one and went with it. We..." Janine sighed and put her head in her hands, leaning squarely on her knees as she recollected that unusual time. "We almost went all the way right there. She had me down to my underwear and I was liking it. Of course, I had never experienced anything even remotely sexual before then, and I liked the attention. And it was sex, or as near as I've gotten, so who wouldn't like it? Luckily I stopped her and told her how uncomfortable I was, but I kept seeing her and she kept flirting with me. I got scared to death, and not just for one reason. "Eventually she graduated, and I never heard from her again. I went on and recovered, and my friends understand my situation, though they never stop teasing me. Anyway, that was my one and hopefully only experience with another girl. I've told people I'm straight and I've stuck to it except for that one time." May looked at Janine in awe, and if she were a little bit less of a prude, she would've been excited and intrigued by the story as well. She took a big breath and shook her head, leaving it at that. "So why tell me? I mean, this is obviously a secret you're uncomfortable with." "Everyone has skeletons in their closets. I just happened to like mine for awhile. I'm a bit ashamed of it, but it's not like I'm suicidal or guilty or anything. It's just going to be uncomfortable for my future husband and kids, that's all." "I'd imagine!" laughed May. Of course, she had never had anything like Janine's experience. The closest she had ever gotten were all sisterly things related to June and her handicapped condition, and they certainly didn't count. "Well," sighed Janine after a few moments of comfortable silence, "it's getting late and I should go home. You want to hang out tomorrow?" Her smile and invitation were tempting, but May had other plans. "Sorry, I can't. June and I have to be somewhere for a special concert on Sunday." "Oh, really? Well can I come?" "If classical music's your thing, then by all means." "All right, uh... where at? How much?" "It's free, but donations are appreciated," replied May, doing a good mock-radio voice. She then told her "new friend" where to go, and Janine promised she'd do her best to attend (not a big fan of making promises, since she had a habit of not always fulfilling them). May kindly drove her friend back home, then resigned herself to study, sleep, and just a bit of rock. There would be no Bon Jovi in the Philharmonic tomorrow By the time Ivory and Hail had completed their assignment, they were on terms with each other. Ivory still barely knew Ancelin, and her hormones had been on high due to lack of physical gratification (doing it herself didn't really get the job done). Furious Hail had a big crush on Ivory by that point, perhaps the first time she ever really felt such a thing towards any other person. She had been eased into a steamy dance once with another woman during a particularly blurry rave, and had liked it to the point where she wouldn't mind doing it again... and again. And Ivory seemed perfect for her. Ivory was very sexual and very open, which was good. She was fiercely tenacious and didn't stop until her goals were met, and usually expressed intense emotion when she was forcefully interrupted. The girl was egotistical and never ceased to talk about herself or her martial arts trophies (a different kind of "trophy" was only hinted at now and then), and she was a stuck-up impish sex fiend with a wild face and a quick sensual smirk. Her hair was striped red and black (at least that day it was), her tight shirt proudly exposing the two scars on her body, and on that day, she was much hornier than usual. Both Furious Hail and Ivory had gotten good marks for their reports on each other, largely due to them not having any choice over their accommodations. On that first week, Ivory had been forced into the soup kitchen where Hail volunteered, so getting to know her dark acquaintance was simple. The two of them hung out whenever possible, apparently glad to have found a similar bleak soul with a love of playing hooky, smoking, partying, and other lurid acts. And to Ivory's brown and blue eyes, Hail was not bad-looking. Over the weekend, the two girls had their greatest adventure together. They had decided to go over to a local gym for intense martial arts work-outs and were teaching each other the finer points of fighting. Hail was infamous for her warrior's streak: she had routinely beaten up freshmen in her previous schools, and was transferred to place to place until only one school seemed benevolent enough to take her in. Ivory knew that feeling only too well: she had been in her fair share of fights, both physical and verbal, and seemed like a pilgrim during her budding teenage years. She had a friend named Farrah Kwong who went through something similar (but only once); together they would give Stanton something to worry about. Since the two women were so great at picking and winning fights, they were perfect as sparring partners. Ivory's huge ego got in the way, but Hail's infatuation with the wild child prevented her own skills from blossoming. They worked up a vicious sweat and had a good long talk about how much they hated their lives, families, and school--and then the subject switched to girls. "So you're a lesbian?" Hail's cold, hardened heart swelled for the first time ever. "Yeah, it's really kick-ass. Girls fuck so sweet. I guess I really just enjoy the sex; I don't usually stay behind to get into any relationship. Lately I've been careful about who I'm sleeping with, which sucks since I seem to get horny every time I see a sexy new ass." "You're careful because of STDs?" "No!" laughed Ivory out loud, as if she were indestructible. "I'm careful cuz' maybe somewhere inside me there's a heart, and maybe I've got heart enough to know better than to love and leave. I only try out girls I know who'll understand the way I feel. It sounds crappy, but it's really the sex I like." "Oh. So like, you've never been with a man?" Not offended, Ivory shrugged and frowned. "Well, no, unless you count this one butch who liked wearing strap-ons. That was the closest I got." Furious Hail was twice as intrigued now, and she didn't grimace even after hearing such remarks spoken so casually. So Ivory was a little promiscuous, so what? That meant she had experience, and if Hail ever chose a lover, she would need someone with experience. A question wiggled in the back of her mind, though, one borne of the faint sliver of morality still attached to her mind: would she have sex with Ivory merely for sex, or would she fool herself into believing something could come of it? She wanted sex and love, but something told her she would only get one. And Ivory loved sex. "So what about you?" she asked. The girls left their station and walked to the locker room, smelly and wet from perspiration. They would need to change clothes, and effectively, become naked before one another in the women's shower room. This they both looked forward to with different sorts of anticipation. Furious Hail would see the woman she had a crush on with nothing on but a sexy smile. Ivory would see eye candy. "Uh, me? Well... I've never been with anyone, but I guess I generate towards women." "Mmm, good answer. Generate!" Ivory chuckled and opened the locker room door for them both. "I like that word. So like, would you want to be with anyone?" "Yeah, of course." Hail had to restrain herself in the locker room. Oh, if only Ivory didn't shred her clothes off so quickly when she undressed! Watching another woman slowly peel off sweaty rags was something of a fetish for the wild raver. Tran undressed casually, but couldn't help making comment as she watched Hail strip. "Oh, you've got a great body! Hey Haley, I got a question, but it's a moral one, so don't get sand up your vagina or anything. I mean, you've got a terrific body, and I personally think purple hair is very sexy." (Hail had it dyed to differentiate herself from "normal" girls) "You say you party and shit. Now I don't have anything against partying, but why do you gotta take all that drug crap? I mean, hell! Even I don't get wasted with LSD or angel dust, but you just suck it all in like a vacuum! Why do you have to waste such a gorgeous body like that? You know drugs will just tear you up." Hail made a nasty face and snorted, in spite of getting an eyeful of Ivory. "What business of yours is it what I do to my body?" "Because," sang Ivory, using her most seductive tone, "some lucky woman might want to use it. She obviously can't give you good pleasure if half of it's broken. I say keep it--I mean, if you gotta smoke, sure, just don't waste it beyond help. Just... take care of yourself. Why else do you think I like to work out? A girl's gotta look her best for the next lover." With that she winked and invited Hail inside the watery shower with a wiggling, sensual finger. Hail was only partially aroused; what Ivory had said put a needle in her heart. She certainly wasn't the girl she had been three years ago. Especially not the girl she was seven years ago. Far from stupid, Furious Hail got a clever idea. She followed Ivory into the shower and watched with pleasure as the world's wildest, haughtiest, bitchiest, sexiest woman lathered soap over her entire body with just her bare hands. Sure, she purposely paid attention to her bust and waist to titillate her companion, but Hail didn't care! Her maple eyes swam with color and sensuality as water, soap, and flesh merged into one steamy center. "Oh, so you came!" stated Tran mischievously. She wiggled her way over to Hail and handed her a shampoo and body wash bottle. Then she leaned forward and whispered, very seductively, "Be sure to get very clean. If you need my help, just... give me a nudge." She then wiggled back and resumed washing, casual and cocksure as ever. Poor Hail nearly passed out right there. She cleared her throat. "Um, Ivory?" "Yes dear?" "I, uh, have an idea... a proposition for you." "Oh? What's that?" "Um... I thought about what you said, and I think you're right. I'd like to kick my drug habit... for you." Ivory craned her head around, leaving just enough of her body to both ogle and imagine over. "That's really very sweet, but you should do it for yourself." "Yeah," muttered Hail nervously. She was doing all that on purpose! "A-anyway, I can't just go cold turkey; I want you to help me. I really like you, Ivory. I mean... I'm really, really very attracted to you." "Really?" "Yeah," she whispered. "I think...we'd be good together. I wanna get my act straight so my body will be pure for you. I mean, the drug act. I'll still be a kick-ass ass-kicker." Ivory turned all the way around, crossed her arms, and chuckled with pleasure. "That's what I like to hear... although usually I'm the one who goes after the girl. This time, though," she whispered, stepping closer to the very anxious and very nude Hail, "I think... I can make... an exception." Ivory Tran grasped Furious Hail's chin in her fingers and drank her fill of the woman's rich wet lips in a single, fluid motion. Their lungs filled with lust and steamy air as they inhaled and held it, savoring the stink of the sudden, forbidden eroticism. Ivory's hands floated past Hail's rough face, brushing aside the water until it reached the forest of violet wheat, and into it did it dive, richly searching the depths for pleasures unbound as their mouths continued their bacchanalia. Ivory's mouth opened and closed rapidly, sending kisses and gasps of air into the desperate lips of her companion; her other arm directed straight towards her bust and grasped with eager haste a single breast. "Ah!" Furious Hail gasped and lost control. Ivory was pleasuring herself three ways: greedily searching Furious Hail's sensual locks with her fingers, kissing and licking her lips greedily, and stroking and caressing her breasts, left and right. They both groaned and moaned from want of and lack of sex; their vision blinded in the steam and falling water, and soon Furious Hail took Ivory in her arms and locked her within. Their breasts embraced and their bodies came together, slippery and hot and thirsty for each other. Ivory found herself slowly pinned against the cold tile wall as her insatiable partner feasted on the bounty of flesh she had so sorely wanted and missed. She tilted her head back and accepted the mindlessness of Furious Hail's loving: her hands traveled everywhere; her mouth took everything into it, and gave her flaming pleasure by way of heaving chest, exposed naval, and secret center for all. Furious indeed was she; she needed no guidance, though Ivory whispered some anyway at intervals. "Put your lips on my breast," she managed, or "I want your fingers inside me," and "It's been such a long time since a woman's dominated me like this." When Hail's tongue found its embrace inside Ivory's bittersweet mouth, Tran became electrified from the touch and taste of the ring. She had never kissed a girl with a tongue ring, and what she missed out on from not doing it! Hail sent her into pleasurable convulsions that she had not felt ever; her fingers and legs became eager and began rubbing, rubbing everywhere like a senseless cat. Ivory purred as she felt a tongue on her neck, her lips, her stomach, everywhere. She cried with orgasm twice before she finally took over, breathless. Furious Hail allowed herself to be contained. Ivory hugged her lover from behind, grinding her waist deep in the woman's behind, and brushed her whole body against the sensual backbone. Her face buried itself inside the crook of Hail's neck and shoulder, and hands and fingers wandered aimless and unstoppable down the curves of the furious body. Hail screamed out loud as she felt herself being lost and quickly penetrated, and two, three, four greedy fingers stole away that last bit of what might've been her Self. She nearly collapsed from overload, but Ivory caught her and held onto her, and breathed into her neck until she calmed. It was a miracle they had not been interrupted. Unfortunately, the water had gone cold by then. Shakily, Ivory turned it off. "That was good!" she stated firmly, clearly amazed. Hail was just strong enough to nod and smile. Ivory snickered and helped her partner over to a bench in the locker room. "Wow!" she whispered in awe. "You're pretty insatiable, ya know that? Of course, I was a little greedy myself, so I guess our desperation can be excused. Remind me to come to you whenever I need a good fuck!" Hail nodded, but then her senses started coming back to her. "So... would that be all... I was good for? Just a... quick romp?" "I dunno," murmured Tran. "I mean, I guess I like being with you and you're pretty cool and all...but jeez! I didn't know you were that good! You sure you never been with a woman?" "Not until now," breathed Hail. She looked down at herself, saw the change, and smiled weakly. "Guess I'm not a virgin anymore. I'm broken in." "And how!" sighed Tran heartily. She laughed and scooted closer to Hail, and soon found herself sitting on the girl's lap, her legs wrapped around her waist. Furious Hail forgot about reason and lost herself to lust again, and drank from Ivory's delicious mouth for ages and ages. Her fingers traveled from waist to bust to shoulder, where they stopped at Tran's famed scars. "What's this?" "Oh, that? I got those in a bad fight. Yeah, I woulda died, but luckily I'm Supergirl!" Tran grinned triumphantly, but Hail looked a bit too curious just to hear that. "No, seriously. Where'd you get those?" The impish smile turned sad, and Ivory mindlessly played with Hail's breasts to occupy herself as she talked. "One was from a suicide attempt, long ago. I missed, of course, and freaked my parents out. They hated me ever since, not that they ever liked me much at all. The other's from a fight, this one. I'm serious this time. I didn't want something of mine stolen, so I put my dukes up. Unfortunately, I was bringing a knife into a gunfight. The robber had bad aim, fortunately, and the people at the hospital were used to healing my bullet wounds. I actually have bits and pieces of the shells used. I keep them as good luck charms." "That's weird." Hail gingerly traced over the two small circular scars, breathing haunted breaths as she realized just how similar she really was to her lover. The amazement amused Ivory, and she kissed Hail again. "Look, my house sucks, but we can fuck for awhile there if you want. Wanna come? It'd be a good way to keep you off those damn drugs." Hail smiled and blushed just a bit, and since anywhere was better than her house, she accepted. Not long after that, Ivory Tran bedded another woman. And then another. Eventually, she would find the one she wanted, and so would Hail, but it would not be each other.
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