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"So she never showed up, huh?"

I look down at the cafeteria table. I can't believe I'm sitting here talking to Josie Warren. It's probably my own fault -- Even with all the people at this school, my social circle really hasn't grown much since junior high. At least she's good enough to revert to our old junior high dynamic, which was a lot more mellow. Subdued antagonism is about all I'm up to dealing with today.

"No, she never showed up. I still haven't seen her. Nishikado, either."

"Maybe they ran off to get married. To Vegas."

"Yeah, and maybe I should take a shotgun and blow my brains out."

She laughs. "Jesus, gimme some drama. I don't see what the big deal is. It's just a date. Your girl Kirsten's smart enough to use a condom."

Ugh. I look at Josie, and today she's actually bordering on subtle. A low cut black top with a dark green mini-skirt, and a dark blue purse. She's still wearing way too much make-up, but she's not a bad looking girl. I just can't shake the feeling that she's advertising. The only reason she's had so many boyfriends is that she makes it obvious that she's not hung up about giving blowjobs.

"Have you ever gone out with Nishi?" I ask her.

"No. Adam once. I was after Nishi, since he's clearly the more attractive of the two..." Her eyes sort of drift off, and I bet she's thinking about sucking his dick right now. "But he pawned me off."

I grin. "Really? Is that what he does, send his cast-offs to Adam?"

She gives me a glare, making it abundantly clear that I've insulted her, and I smile. I'm actually feeling a little better talking to her. She has this weird kind of self-esteem: She's a slut, but she doesn't put up with having anyone openly identify it. "I'm sorry," I say, "I didn't mean to call you a cast-off."

She scoffs, looking away. "It's okay, that's what I was. Not good enough for the great 'Vincent Nishikado'." She makes little air quotes with her fingers and says his name in the most derisive tone possible. And she calls me dramatic. "I don't know why. Maybe my tits aren't big enough."

"So Nishi actually has some standards, huh?" She gives me another look, like she can't believe what I just said. "I didn't mean it like that. Look Josie, I'm sorry, but when you go out with every guy walking it's going to attract some negative stereotypes."

I think she actually liked that, because she smiles and says, "I can't help it that I'm popular."

I lean against an arm as I look at her, feeling suddenly a little amazed, just at the sight of her. "How did all this happen? I mean, the clothes, the make-up... I know everybody ends up like you, that's just the way girls are. But... Why?"

She gives me an odd look. "You're making almost no sense."

"I mean, did you have an easy-bake oven? Did your mom take you shopping? Seriously, I just... I don't get it. What did you do that I didn't? I've never felt the inclination to get dressed up, or wear dresses, or any of that stuff. What makes you wanna look different from normal people? Why the specialized feminine wardrobe?"

"That is the dumbest question I've possibly ever heard. Did you also never have an inclination to be attractive to boys? Clover," she says, putting one of her hands on mine, "let me ask you a serious question. Are you a lesbian?"

"I'm getting real tired of dignifying that with a response."

"Seriously, you can tell me. I'll keep it to myself."

I look down at her hand, which is still touching mine, and she takes it away. "I'm not a lesbian. C'mon, I've always had crushes on boys. In kindergarten it was Ryan Ledger, and in grade three it was Ewan Copeland. Definitely a couple of guys."

"Haha, Ewan Copeland... I forgot all about that retard. What the hell did you see in him? His awesome glasses?"

"He was nice," I say, narrowing an eye. "He let me play video games at his house."

"I'm sure he did. And that's fine for grade school, but this is eleventh grade. People change. There's nothing wrong with being gay, this isn't nineteen fifty."

I sigh. "Do people want me to be a lesbian? Would that make everybody happy?"

"No, actually, nobody cares. Just get over it. I can admit that I find girls attractive. You're a very attractive girl, Clover. I don't mind saying it. I'd make out with you at a party anytime."

I pull back a little, and she cracks up at my look of revulsion. "You're so repressed," she says. "Look at us, we're girls, we're hot. Are you telling me you've never kissed a girl?"

"Are you telling me you have?"

"Sure. You go to a party, you have a few drinks, and you make out in front of some guys. It drives them nuts, like seriously out of their minds. It's great."

"You are a total slut. And that's not even about the girl. That's about showing off in front of a bunch of guys. Like a slut."

"Believe me, it's still about the girl. I wouldn't make out with just anybody. Even if it's ultimately about getting a guy, girls are so nice..." She purrs those last few words, leaning closer to me. "We're soft, and we smell really good..."

"Okay Josie, let me get this straight: You are in fact a lesbian."

She smirks with the side of her mouth, glancing out at the cafeteria.

"Guys are gonna like you anyway," I tell her. "They know that you'll put out, you don't have to stick your tongue in some girl's mouth just to get attention."

"Thanks for the tip. What else would you recommend, wearing a ball cap and a pair of dirty jeans?"

"There are plenty of guys who like girls like me. They don't all want some girly-girl who they have to coddle and take care of all the time. Girls like you are the ones who gave birth to the stereotype of the hysterical female. It's girls like me who the intelligent guys are looking for, not... tarted-up estrogen bombs."

"Tarted-up estrogen bombs..." she mutters, shaking her head, then looks straight at me. "You know, they might like you as a friend, but that's it. You might be someone they can hang out with, but they're never gonna want you. Not like they want me. If they can stick their dick in you without a buncha strings attached I'm sure they'd find that very pleasant, but they're always gonna have their eye on the girl across the room. The one with the mini-skirt and the make-up. The one who's not like them."

"Look, whatever. It's a wide world, not everybody is gonna fall into your little preconceived notions of how relationships work." I look her in the eye and feel a surprise sweep of something, sorta like sympathy. "How are you ever going to make a connection with someone, a real connection, when all you're doing is trying to make their dicks hard? Where can that possibly go?"

"I think I mentioned this before, but we're in eleventh grade. Who cares where it goes? This is the time to have fun with your life, not make fucking wedding plans."

I cross my arms, not looking at her, and that bit of sympathy drains quick. "Maybe that's why you became such a girly-girl. You've got a lack of self-esteem, which leads you to suspect that nobody will ever want you for who you are, but only for a superficial package designed to dump cum in."

"Oh my god! Do you even listen to yourself? Why don't you just go train to be a truck driver, to complete the image? You can piss in a jar and chew tobacco and be the happiest man-girl in the world." She actually pounds her fist on the table slightly as she says, "There's nothing but self-esteem in being feminine, you're supposed to be proud of what you are. You're supposed to be proud to be a girl. Don't try to pretend that you're one of the guys, because you aren't. They're never gonna hang around you without thinking about sex. Accept it." She gets up, then adds, "And grow the hell up."

She gives me one last glare before she walks away, but she doesn't leave the cafeteria. Instead she takes a seat across the room with Adam, who I didn't even notice had come in. I try not to make it obvious that I'm watching them, but they talk for a couple of minutes, probably about Nishi, and at one point they both turn to glance in my direction. They're smirking, Josie looking particularly snarky, and I shield my eyes as I look away. God dammit. That can't be good.

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I'm laying on my bed after school masturbating when the doorbell rings. I'd been thinking of Kirsten out in public in a really small outfit, like a t-shirt that's way too short, the bottom of her tits showing, and for some reason it's all she has to wear. She's stuck way across town in this t-shirt with no bra and a tiny skirt, no panties, and she has to get home on the subway. We don't actually have a subway, but in my brain it's really crowded, just filled with people. So she's really embarrassed and trying to cover herself, holding a hand over her tits, but people are pressing up against her -- Guys can't help but notice her, wondering how she ended up dressed like that, totally unable to keep their eyes off her. It's a benevolent fantasy, nothing bad happens to her. She's just embarrassed, and that's more than enough for me. I'm getting off like crazy, but the doorbell rings, and I have to stop.

I'm wearing boxers and a t-shirt that's on crooked, and my hair's messed up. I must have been rolling around in my bed a lot more than I thought, and I rub my eyes as I shuffle toward the door. When I open it Kirsten's standing there, and she looks totally fantastic. She's just wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but something about her seems different. She's not really smiling, but there's a kind of glow to her, and I notice that she's wearing a bit of makeup. Not a lot, just a little on the eyelids, and some lipstick. It looks amazing, her lips seem super-kissable, and for a couple seconds I just stare at her.

Right at that moment my head starts to itch, one of those searing, insanely powerful itches, so I reach up and scratch it. Then I have to kind of dig at it for a few seconds to make it really go away. So my hair is even more messed up than before, and Kirsten just stands there watching me as I say, "Hey." So much for grace.

"Hi."

I step aside to let her in, and she brushes very slightly against me. It's a good thing I'm not a guy, or I'd have a giant hard-on poking out of my underwear. Then I realize that I've been masturbating into these boxers for awhile, so while she goes to the kitchen I swing by my room and pull on a pair of pajama bottoms.

When I come into the kitchen she's sitting at the counter, not looking in my direction. I take a seat next to her, and even though I'm not looking at her I feel a bunch of little prickles of electricity in my body, just at knowing that she's here. There might be more to it, pheromones or something, because I wanna put my arm around her and run a hand through her hair and watch her smile as my lips press against her mouth.

"So how was it?" I ask, and I think my voice sounds a little strained.

She smiles to herself, not looking at me. "It was great."

A sweep of coldness fills my chest, then more slowly makes its way down my arms and legs. I knew there was some remote chance that she'd say something like that, but I say, "You're kidding." She doesn't answer, so I say, "You're not gonna see him again, are you?"

"Yeah, I think I am." She looks over at me, and the way she's smiling just murders me. She looks so energized, so content, and so beautiful. "He was just really... all night he was really great. We went to a movie and then hung out at the food court, and the way he could pick apart everybody who went past was so... funny, and mean, but not in a bad way." She sees the look I'm giving her and says, "It's hard to explain," then grins. "But he's really good at it, and you know how I like to derive self-esteem from the mockery of others."

I try not to, but I can't help rolling my eyes a little. "It sounds like it was a magical evening."

"I don't know, we just really seemed to... We were on the same wavelength. It wasn't a big deal, but I had fun. He's not half as bad as you think."

"Yeah, I must have been hearing things when he was calling me a whore. He had a few choice things to say about you too, by the way."

"He told me all about it. He was just trying to get under your skin. He's a guy, that's what they do. Excessive vulgarity is how they communicate."

"And how is it that you find that appealing?"

"What can I tell you?" She's still smiling to herself as she stretches. "I'm a girl. I like guys. It's one of the great mysteries of the universe."

"I get it, it's not brain surgery. Some guy is paying attention to you and it's getting you all tingly. That's fine, I've got nothing against that, but can't you find somebody else?" I reach over to brush some of her hair behind her ear and say, "You're beautiful, Kirsten. You don't have to settle for Vincent Nishikado. If you want a boyfriend we can find you one, but you're way above him."

"He's a human boy, you know. We aren't shopping for used cars."

"You're fucking right we're not. This is important."

She exhales. "Well for the sake of argument, who've you got in mind?"

"I don't know. I mean, there's..." I run through my mental index of all the guys I know, but none of them seem to quite make the grade. "There are hundreds of boys at that school. Pick one."

"I know there's hundreds of boys at school, but none of them asked me out, did they?" Her eyes have gotten a bit of an edge to them, and she says, "I don't want to have to go after a guy. I don't want to lead him by the nose. That's exactly the opposite of what I want."

I watch her for a moment and say, "Is that all you were waiting for? For somebody to ask you out?"

"Not just anybody, but somebody, yeah. I don't like people who are meek, I don't like people who are self-effacing, I don't like people who aren't self-assured. I know there are guys at school who like me, but if they can't muster up the courage to come talk to me then forget it. They're always watching from the other side of the class, or talking to me one day and then losing their nerve the next. Nishi's not like that. He might be a little abrasive, but he doesn't curl up in a shell. Most people aren't like that. Most people are not like us."

"And are you saying that Nishikado is like us? Jesus, the joke continues."

She doesn't reply, but keeps looking straight at me.

"And what did he tell you?" I try to hold back a smirk, because it feels really snotty, but I can't seem to stop it. "That he was just crazy about you and that he couldn't wait to hang out with you for awhile and get you pregnant or something before he went and fucked off with some other girl?"

She stares at me for another moment, then gets up. "I'll talk to you about this later."

I feel a drop in my stomach as she walks past and I say, "Hey, wait." She turns to look at me, her face expressionless, and I give her some kind of look that I can't even quite pinpoint. There's a layer of non-chalance, like this really doesn't mean much to me, but behind that is this vague sort of pleading. Like after everything we've been through I'm already worried that maybe she doesn't like me anymore. It feels very weird and out of place, and I don't know how it seems to her, but I find I've got no idea what else to say.

Then she says, "Call me tomorrow," and walks out of the kitchen. A few seconds later I hear the front door close, and I sit still for a little while. Whatever arousal I'd had when Kirsten first showed up is completely gone, and instead I feel a little disjointed, and more than a little nervous. I'm sure I'm suppressing my body, that if I relax a little more my legs will start to tap, or my fingers will rap subconsciously against the counter. I definitely seem to be sitting unnaturally still.

Me and Kirsten never fight. Never, not about anything, not even once. To other people, I'm sure this was nothing. They'd hardly even notice, this was only a little disagreement. Just the kind of thing that happens in the course of human interaction. But for us, for me, this was very major. I've never spoken to her with anything but complete and total kindness, not ever. Even when I teased her or pretended that I was disappointed with her over something, we were always smiling. I can't think of single day I've been with her that we haven't smiled. But today she only smiled when she was talking about Nishi.

I'm glad that she left, because this was a conversation that I wouldn't have been able to let go of, and I'm sure I would have taken it to some very bad places. It used to be so easy around her, I was so confident. I was never more confident than when I was with her, I always knew that I'd feel good about everything I did or anything I said. I was always at my best, it was so effortless. Whether we were out somewhere or just sitting around watching tv, the best parts of me were all that came out when I was with her.

But then I started not being able to trust myself because I might say something about how much I loved her, and now I can't trust myself because of what I might say about Nishi. And I already know that as far as the two of them go, she's not gonna budge. We always moved each other so easily, we were always on board with what the other wanted, and the fact that she went out with him in the first place is proof that their relationship is beyond my control. It's something she wants, and if she was willing to stop, she would have stopped long before now.

There are probably ways I could change her mind; we've never forced each other's hand before, but if I really wanted to, I could probably do it. If I tried hard enough, I could get her to give this up. It's not like she's in love with him, it's just Nishikado. He's part of the equation, but he's... insubstantial. She's just caught up in being a girl, and he was the one lucky enough to be lurking around at the right time. She wants to be inside that little romance-world with somebody, and she wants it badly enough to see past the obvious deficiency of her partner.

"When I see Kirsten's tits, I'll let you know how they stack up to yours." What a fucking scumbag piece of shit. I just hope she gets tired of him soon, so she can find somebody else and let all of this fade away.

I lean my elbows against the counter, running my hands through my hair. I deliberately relax myself, and my legs don't shake. I'm doing better than I thought, but I feel tired. I pull myself up from the counter. I've gotta get some sleep.

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