A new tenor in life

The coast is clear. You slowly open your bedroom door and scurry towards your parents'. You find it already ajar. You peep in.

Your mother is waiting crouched on the mattress, supporting her head with one hand while the other lies on the side of her hip bone. She's wearing black lingerie: a 36DDD size that struggles to retain her breast, a tight-fitting tanga and fishnets enlaced to a garter belt. She nods at you to enter as you do, holding your breath. Even if you're yourself in your lingerie, even if you're yourself in a breath-taking body, they both wither in front of her magnificence. You feel (or maybe you're just pretending to be) embarrassed, and you cover your plain bra and panties with your hands.

A sultry smile curls her lips.

-Come here, sweetie. Don't be afraid.-.

-Is dad...?-.

-Ssh. Just come here.-.

You obey and crawl on the bed, approaching on all fours. Like in that famous movie, however, she stomps her foot on your face, halting you. Its perfumed smell inebriates your nostrils.

-I saw you before.- She murmurs seductively: -Glaring at my husband. Hugging him tightly. Whishing for him.-.

Your cheeks are burning. She was right, although you don't feel a real attraction towards your father. It just was too hot to play with him like this, to rub his daughter's body onto him while everyone was watching, while your real body... your brother, that is, was watching. And maybe... maybe to assay his manhood too. Maybe to discover why your mother has always loved him so much to give birth to such a splendid daughter, the one that you are now.

-I'm sorry...-.

-You've been a bad girl.-.

-Yes...-.

She moves her foot on your mouth, twerking your lips and your nose with its fingers.

-What did you want to do to him?-.

-I... I don't know.- You answer in a whisper: -I think... I wanted to...-.

-Don't tell me.- She drops her legs, making you gasp. She spreads open her crotch, her vulva transpiring from the thin tissue.

-Show me.-.

You comply with pleasure.

---

You lock the door and the room falls silent. Your digits wander across your form, tracing a shiver as they pass on your skin. Now that any disturbance has been muted, you can finally focus on who you are, not who you have to be with others. This body... these lips... these... tits... they are yours... yes, yours only.

The temptation of going further is impelling, but you have decided otherwise for tonight. You have to learn, to be prepared, to be one step ahead of the others. The compulsion of being better: there was a time when you didn't understand it. You simply saw it as your sister's whim. But now... now it's different, now it's your raison d'etre.

You close your eyes imagining another "instance" of your goo essence popping down your legs. Your pussy warms quickly and then SPLAT, here it is. As Tina has told you, you focus on it, trying to perceive its own feelings, its own sensations, which is something that instinctively repulses you since it's a disgusting goop that has squirted out your lower body, and it's thus forthwith associable with one of the pettiest features of human anatomy. But then you're besieged by a new world of inputs, as you're still standing but also mashed on the ground a few centimeters from, still, yourself. It makes you feel dizzy, it's like they've cut your arm but you could still move it, yet also perceiving the void between the limb and the rest of your body; only that, against the example, your limb is a peripheral visioned lump one-twentieth the size of a human being.

Eugh.

You feel sludgy.

Then, following your commands, the goo inflates swiftly and reforms into a more pleasant, and objectively glorious, form. Yours.

Right now, you're watching at the exact image of Kim. Twice. In the sense that you're both mirroring and beyond the mirror, as if you're experiencing the sense of sight at a double intensity than normal. A comparison that you find efficient is when your pad ear is suddenly unplugged; only that, following this thread, it's more like you would have never realized until now that you were defecting in hearing.

You tilt your head (your heads), and you are slightly woozy as you both have it leaned to the right; plus, the rotation felt like twice wide. Your hair tickles the two necks of yours in an incoherent pattern. Now that the symmetry has been lost, you feel as if your senses are all squinted, pointing at two different directions at the same time. You raise your left arm, and she does the same. Mmm. You stretch them, and they contemporary touch your right shoulders.

"!!!".

You repress a shriek. It's disorienting, you're touched and being touched, and touching who is touching you, which therefore is no one since you recognize your own touch and the synapsis that has moved its hand, but you also feel it coming from the outside, from someone else.

Now you'll try to move separately. Your fingers are trembling as you manage to separate them from your shoulder...s? No, not both of them!

"Ugh... I... khh... AH!" You droop your hand, but at the same time you don't. You smirk. Wonderful, you're a fast learner.

Like in that dumb movie where the girl was trying to move first her toe, and then the rest of her body (you don't remember the title, it's not that you watch Tom's obscenities), you actually need two more hours to adequately handle the coordination, but finally you have one snooping around the room, while you sit the other on her chair and put the phone on her hand.

-We could fill the world with us. Make him perfect.- You propose while circling, in order to practice with dialogues.

-Mh. That would mean creating other me. Inflate my perfection.- You answer without lifting your glimpse.

-Then we could just possess the other people.-.

-That would mean ruin my perfection.-.

-But you have made me. You have made us.-.

-Only for training. And because we're still one.-.

It's incoherent. You sense your contempt for such a logical fallacy. But you also feel your own pride and the disgust for such skepticism.

Who the hell she thinks she is?

-You don't want to be others... You don't want others to be you... You don't want to be just yourself either...-.

-Could you stop wandering around? You're making me sick.-.

-As you make your bed...-.

-Whatever. I'm tired of this pretense.-.

-And I'm tired of your indecision.-.

-Do you know what I want?- You jump on your feet and grab yourself while passing, and press your foreheads together.

-I want to know that I could twist the lives of others in my fingers. I want everyone to kneel to me with a snap. Snatch them from their meaningless daily actions and turn them into adoring servants at my every whim. That's what I want. I want that power.-.

You smug contemptuously.

-A bit pretentious, don't you think?-.

-You're a piece of goo that I've modeled as my copy. You are pretentious.-.

You chuckle.

-Ohh... I see. So full of yourself. You want everyone to kneel. Even yourself. You're sick.-.

-You dare...-.

-That wasn't a criticism.- You plunge your mouth into her neck, sucking with your lips, so that everyone will see who she belongs to. Who the world belongs to. Even if you were expecting it, it took you by surprise. You moan and swing your head, feeling her agog hands roaming on your body. But you don't want to fall for it. You take up your phone and you nonchalantly go back to browsing social media. The notification of a message interrupts your scroll.

It's your brother. "Thanks", he says. You frown. After some seconds, he adds: "For earlier".

-What is it?- You groan, her aromatic savor still on the tip of your tongue.

-Nothing.- You turn off the phone and encircle her back with your arms. Gently, you lie down on the bed. Something has made you change your mind. No point in keeping the sham on.

---

SMACK

-Goodbye dear, have a nice day.-.

-Bye Jess, by kids.-.

-Bye daddy!!!-.

-Yeah, whatever.-.

You're the only one that doesn't say anything. You barely look at him leaving, your heart beating hard in your chest. He was behaving normally, no doubt, you wouldn't have spotted any difference. But last night he slept on the sofa. That means... that means that they have taken him, as you have suspected. And, when you ask yourself when it did happen, you blush realizing it could only have happened in the bedroom, while he was alone with your mother. In the same way, you've cringed when, yesterday's evening, she greeted him kissing his cheek, as she has just done. Well, that's not exact. She had shown some bewilderment for a second, but this time she didn't. She too, you have to admit, could pass for normal from the outside.

-Is he going to be ok?- You ask in a hoarse voice. Your... "mother"... gasps, and then smiles candidly.

-Of course! Of course. I want to make him happy.-.

-Pff.- Kim snorts: -As you care. Ever since you dream of getting into mom's panties you just want to get rid of him.-.

You turn pale. You feel... exposed? No, it's not like that, she-she is wrong! Even if... she's you... but, honestly, with her is more difficult to keep that in mind. Yesterday evening Kim seemed completely her usual self: the way she had grimaced at the soup, the scoops she had given to finish it quickly but without any pleasure, how her lips had enveloped the cutlery, how the muscles of her neck had contracted at each deglutition... all clashed with the fact that, only a few hours prior, you had been in that same dining room where she was swallowing similarly, bent in front of your knees, making the same "eugh" expression for something that tastes bad. She had gone back upstairs without uttering a word, after having brushed her mouth with her wrist and given you a sour look. Even in that inconceivable situation, she had behaved like the normal, bitchy Kim.

-That's not true!- Tina retorts angrily: -He loves daddy like the rest of us!-.

-Will you stop calling him "daddy"? How old are you, ten?-.

-Girls, girls, please.- Your mother comes to calm the situation.

-Tom, I see why you're worried, but I assure you that I mean no harm. I'll prove it to you, if you'll let me.-.

You gulp and nod, your mom has always been good with speeches. Even if she's not herself anymore, she's still, well, her. Right?

-Good. Now kids, time to go. Kim, I presume you'll bring them right?-.

-...-.

-As usual.-.

She sighs and simply goes out. She has left the door open, and that's her way to say "yes". Tina runs after her, and you already foresee her biting her sister's jugular in five minutes.

-Tom.- You are unexpectedly hugged from behind and your head is rested onto two soft pillows.

-It's gonna be fine.- Your mother cooes, her hand brushing your hair. You become several shades of pink at that attention.

-I don't understand. How can you not feel strange?- You ask without moving your head. Both because you're not sure you would hold her gaze, and because of its position. Her answer comes frail, soughed, and she tightens the grip on you like she's scared to let you go. Maybe that is the case. Maybe, beyond the facade, they are all scared like you.

-It is strange. But it's also... right.-.

You're still thinking about those words when you mount in the car. With automatic surprise, you notice that Tina is also in the back row, and she immediately decides to disclose the reason.

-I'm so happy that we're together dear brother!- She chirps, leaning her head on your shoulder. You look at her between bewilderment and bewitchment. Last evening too, Tina had been the most divergent from the usual self. As soon as your father arrived she jumped into his arms, telling "daddy" that she was so happy to see him again and that she has missed him so much. And so on for the rest of the evening, a vapid cheerfulness masked with guilelessness that you've never seen on her, not even as a child. Your breath had caught in your throat when you realized that it was what you had always wished for. You've always wondered how her shiny blue eyes, her wavy golden locks, her delicate and graceful frame would have fitted into something different from her usual, serious pout; some kind of retaliation by antithesis, or perhaps just the vaporous juxtaposition between her slightly bimbo's appearance and the stereotypical attitude of the blonde cheerleader. Indeed, she would have been a cute cheerleader if only she had wanted to.

You've thought she was doing that to flaunt her power, to show you the possibilities she could offer, like a calculating mastermind. Yet... it didn't feel stimulated. None of the words she had pronounced, nor her tone, nor any of her movements; neither her demeanor of before, when she had hugged you. It oozed with spontaneity. If she hadn't told you the truth you would have thought that she was just feeling different, not that her inner nature has been twistedly changed because of a hostile invasor. And you've always bragged to yourself that you could read your sister's soul.

So, could it be that she was sincere? That it who how she was right now, not who she was pretending to be? Looking at her now, you admit that you still don't know. But, honestly, you don't mind either. You like this version of her, even if you know it's a horrible thing to think. Yet, you can't help that.

-All right missy, get off.- Kim groans from the driver's side, and Tina realigns her head.

-Thank you Big Sis! Goodbye bro, see you later!- She gives you a peck on the cheek and dismounts, heading towards the school's entrance. You don't remember ever being so enthusiastic last year.

Kim shifts into gear and screeches away, driving recklessly as if you were late, which you weren't.

-H-Hey, slow down!-.

She doesn't listen to you, but stops not far from the university, in a parking lot on the side of the road.

-Pull your pants down.- She laconically orders, turning to you.

-What?-.

-Pull. Your pants. Down.- She repeats. You gulp and unfasten your belt, cowed by her tone. As soon as your member springs to life, she reaches out over the seat and grabs it, making it erected with a pair of strokes. You let out a groan, then look out of the window to check no one is passing by. Is she crazy?

-Eyes on me. Focus now.-.

-But... why...?-.

Oh Jesus she's so good, she knows how to slide her hand to give you the highest pleasure in the shortest time.

-Let's make things clear. Things may work differently at home now, but as soon as we set foot in the university and until I say so, everything will be the same as before. So don't get weird ideas about hanging out with me or anything like that. Understood?- She explains drily, speeding up her pace. It's a dream and a nightmare at the same time. You feel climax approaching, and beyond the bliss you start to fidget, because if you dirty your pants there won't be a way to hide it later, if you're lucky they'll just think you've pissed on yourself. And what if someone would see you now! They would just have to give a look at your car to see your sister jerking off your penis, right in the middle of the city.

-Ok... ok, I get it! Urgh!-.

-Good.- She presses her thumb on the meatus, preventing you from reaching orgasm when you're just one second away. You jolt and bite your cheeks, but she keeps it pressed until you've calmed down. She then rubs her hand on your shirt without much ado, and then she resumes driving as nothing has happened. You're in a real whirlwind, you swing between confusion and frustration, between resentment and excitement. You must have such a face, since it's the first thing your friends notice when you meet them.

-Dude, what's up?- Your best pal, Jeremy, asks you. For a moment, you consider telling him everything; but he'd never believe you, or he'd think you're crazy. Besides, even without the gooish part, you cannot admit that your family has become your orgiastic personal club.

-Nothing, I've just slept badly.- You make out an excuse.

-Hah! I bet you stayed up toying with your paintbrush! Oil on boxers, right?- It's not a boy the one who has made this (questionable) joke, but your friend Elizabeth Patton, a cute brunette with a sprightly look and the tomboy of your group, who could be immediately identified as so through her jaunty pixie cut and her confident pose, today actually looking slightly more feminine from the usual, wearing a white wool sweater, a plaid skirt, and black socks. Behind her, the other girl present, Bella Sutherland, shows some discomfort, crossing her arms in a pout as she always does when it comes to certain subjects.

-Liz, you're always on the topics, huh?- The fifth of you, William, scolds her with a smirk unwillingly tense. It is no secret to anyone (except, sadly, to Bella herself) that he has had a crush on her since the first second they met. Not that you could blame him: Bella Sutherland could easily climb the ranks of popularity with her past-shoulder sandy hair, her deep blue eyes and her minute yet harmonious figure, though her pink glossy lips with always slightly curled corners, the slightly protruding chin and the gull-wing eyebrows give her a beauty more learning towards seriousness than delicacy; the type that would be well suited to someone who wants to put in line whoever crosses her path without mincing words. This is not her case, however, or if it was during high school you've never known, since she's just moved into the city. She is certainly a smart girl, but not uninhibited, and you are surprised that she gets along well with someone like Liz, whose favorite job, sport and hobby is needling her.

-Eheh, you know me, right? I was just asking, because sometimes my artistic streak keeps me up late too. You should see my finger paintings, boys. What do you think, Bella?- She takes a peek behind, to which she looks away.

-I like to go to sleep early.- She mumbles.

-Well, time to go guys.- Jeremy points out, half because it's true half to defuse the situation. You depart from the two boys, since you share your first lesson with Liz and Bella. The first one strolls around with a brash grin on her face, the second seems to be buried in her thoughts. Two different kinds of beauty, but both desirable. You've never seriously thought about them in that sense, but you're still in an aroused state for what happened in the car, therefore the fantasies follow each other automatically. Could you... no, no, they are your friends.

You slow down so that you can stay behind them without them noticing. Your erection is tightening inside your pants. Today is gonna be really hard.

---

-Hi bitches!- You squeal as soon as you have sight of two of Kim's friends, Krissy Delle and Cindy Hope; the first is a platinum blonde a bit taller than the average, while the second it's basically your BFF, a brunette with blonde tinges, with a pleasant appearance but with an easily malleable character. Luckily for her, you took her under your wing years ago.

-Hi Kim! Ohmygad, did you dye yourself?- Krissy chirps high-pitched, a timbre false as a three bill. Kim's instinct kicks in and you cringe; as Tom, you've never liked them pretty much and you're pretty sure it was reciprocal, but it seems that as his sister too you feel like you have to deal with two slimy newts.

You give each other some kisses and then you answer to her: -Duh, obvious right? Brown is like, new blonde, sorry luv. Oh, I'm so jealous of you, Cindy!-.

-Uh... thanks.- Her discomforted reaction, which you precisely were aiming for, is indeed caused by her sempiternal ill-concealed envy for your blond hair. Unfortunately, you can't laugh at her expense for long. Right at this moment, a pair of girls pass behind you eliciting Krissy's visible disgust. Two nerds bookworms, the kind that makes Tom look like a jock in comparison. You would have found them cute once, but now... you just hope whatever-they-have is not contagious.

-Ugh! Not even a miracle could work on them! I bet they'll never find a boyfriend...-.

The last part makes you flinch, since you perceive a dig towards you, the only of the three who is currently single.

-You're right Kris. Or at least one who wouldn't spread his sperm all around.- You retort, and the grimace on her face confirms you've centered the target. Krissy's boyfriend is said to have an affair with someone (and, according to some versions, someone with only two holes), though she seems blind when it comes to the argument. However, her sentence about a miracle has given you to think. Such disasters should be fixed, for the sake of beauty. Maybe you should take the wheel for them...

-Whatever. Lessons are starting. See you later.- Krissy departs, and you head to your classroom, obediently pursued by Cindy. You're inside this life for a day, and you already feel the weights it brings and the adversities it has to endure. The old Kim has played her cards well so far; but the new Kim can be much, much more.

---

You proceed briskly along the corridor, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. You feel perky; energic; and way sexy; and you want everyone to see. You don't know why Tina's mind is having this effect on you, but you love it. You focus on two girls next to the lockers, which her subconscious is immediately glad to recognize.

-Hi girls!-.

They turn around and see you: -Good m'ning Tina! Wow, ya seem pumped today!- says the first one, Nadira Kalema, a nice girl of African origins. The other one, a brunette, is Heather Russell, your oldest and best friend. As Tom, you knew that they really meant to each other, but seeing her now gives you a pleasant thrill, like a warm melting in your chest. Despite being from a richer and extremely Catholic family (you, as Tina, suspect that her parents never approved your friendship), you almost feel like you can touch the bond that unites you.

-Yeah! I had this relationship experience with my family yesterday and now we are, like, super tuned!- You wisely dilute the truth.

-Argh, then you have to teach me 'gal!- Nadira snickers, while Heather does not unbalance herself except for a coy chuckle. Nadira has a struggling relationship with her parents and her older brother, while Heather (an only child) is the stereotypical heart and home daughter, even if you always thought it was only a facade to repress her deep suffering. Yet, you've never managed to make her confess it, and she keeps displaying her affection for her parents. You move to the classroom, but when you turn the corner you almost bump on another trio of girls, led by a redhead shrimp. Your body instinctively gets on the defensive, before information about their identities can flow into your mind and confirm the adequacy of your reaction.

-Watch out you sluts!- Melissa Sullivan, head cheerleader and queen bitch of the school (and, sadly, of your class too) comes up. Unfortunately, Nadira never let it slide when it comes to these situations.

-Oh no! Poor patcheco princess has brok'n her nail?- She mocks concern, making the other two girls heated up.

-Actually, yes. Don't they teach you to look forward when you walk with hampers on your head?-.

-Nadira, please, let's just go.- Heather softly demands, since she hates any type of fight. Now, Heather's plead is one of the few things that could really make Nadira desists, but that same kindly character makes her a favorite target for Melissa's abuses, which then feeds her flame.

-Yes, Nadira, listen to our shining leading star. She'll make her daddy puke some gold to fix everything, right?-.

Heather turns pink. She feels mortified every time someone talks about her family's wealth or addresses her like the principal two years ago, when for her excellent academic results she filled her with clamorous compliments during a highly unrequired speech and defined her, in fact, "our shining leading star".

You feel the compulsion to break much more than her fingernail, and Nadira also inspires with gritted teeth. The other two cheerleaders take a step forward, it seems inevitable that something will happen. But then people around you quieten up, and you six assume casual poses. Just in time, a couple of teachers pass by without a glance. You feel rage increasing. As if... as if they didn't know...

Melissa and her two domestic vipers take the opportunity to leave, probably in their racist delirium they estimate not to last a minute.

-I swear I'll kick her white ass someday.- Nadira murmurs, while you put a hand on Heather's shoulder to comfort her. The poor girl keeps her eyes low, though her face barely twitches, habituated to dissemble. As if that weren't enough, you hear a bang about ten meters from you, and turn around to notice the school bully, Cassidy Reynolds, extorting money from a freshman. Cassidy was flying low until last year, but now she has filled the void created and apparently wants to recover in a year what she could not do in the previous four.

A look of contempt crosses Nadira's face, but the bell rings, and Cassidy leaves without any obstacle.

-I hate this s...stuff.- She restrains herself by looking at Heather, and then gestures for you to go to class. You have spent five years here, plus you have four years of Tina's memory brand anew, and you already knew there were serious problems in this school. But for God's sake, why hasn't she ever told you about this? You feel so, so frustrated right now, and until five minutes ago you were hopping around like a rabbit!

You know you have promised not to spread around, but now you're not sure you will be able to keep your word. This place needs to change, in a way or in another.

---

-...and so the cannibals have hanged my dog in the courtyard and celebrated with its entrails.-.

You frown, realizing that something is really off with what Jeremy is saying.

-Oh, welcome back dude.- He smugs, biting into his sandwich. You, him and Liz have found yourselves outside the classroom during a break of half an hour; you usually talk about this and that, but today you obviously haven't listened to a single word.

-Poor dog, though.- Liz comments. Her feminine side comes out very rarely, and often when you're talking about pets.

-What. It was a story.-.

-Yeah but, poor dog.-.

-Anyway, care to tell us what's gotten into you dude?-.

-Nothing, really.- You say, cringing inside at the unwilling choice of words.

-Come on Jer, let him be. If he doesn't want to talk, he doesn't want to talk.-.

"Thank you, Liz." You think grateful, feeling remorse for having fantasized about possessing her too.

-Besides, it's clearly some love stuff.-.

"What?".

-What?-.

She giggles: -I mean, don't make that face. Look, I've seen a lot of stuff in my life, and I know I'm sounding like some old hag; but really, you have the typical air of "I've kissed the girl I love but it didn't feel right", and what I've learned is that we must not be pushy until you feel ready to talk with us. So.-.

-Wait wait wait.- Jeremy detaches from the wall, having caught maybe a half, a third of the sense of her speech: -Have you kissed a girl? ...Oh shit, you have!-.

-No, it's... it's complicated.- Liz makes a grunt that stands for "told you so", while Jeremy extends his arms and backs away.

-Tom, come on! You didn't want to tell me anything? I'm your-ahh!- He never gets to end the sentence since he collides with another student before you could prevent it.

-Woah! Shit sorry man, I was...-.

-Don't worry, I'm ok.- The voice is clearly not a man's one. Indeed, you identify the hapless girl as she dusts her skirt and dismisses, bidding a lukewarm farewell.

And so does Jeremy, who buries his face in his hands when she's gone.

-Fuck, I'm an idiot!-.

Poor him, between all the students he could bump into, he got his crush, Vanessa Johnson herself. He didn't even have the nerve to strike up a conversation.

-I wanna die! Now she'll think I'm a poor moron!- You want to console him but Liz anticipates you.

-Meh.-.

He peeps trough the fingers at her skeptical face.

-Maybe it's better like this. I know that kind of girl, she would only bring you trouble.- She pontificates. He straightens up and wrinkles his nose: -What are you talking about? You don't even know her!-.

She shakes her head with a deep sigh and he loses his temper and takes off.

-Wait, Jer... Liz, couldn't you be more delicate?- You complain.

She shrugs: -I've just told him my opinion. Trust me, I'm right about that girl.-.

-Even if you were- You cross your arms bulking at her: -now he thinks you were meaning that she's out of his league.-.

-What?- She exclaims wide eyened: -I was saying the contrary! Shit, sometimes I forget that you boys are so dense. Expecially when it comes to those girls.- she spells the last word like she wanted to use another term, one much less respectful. You really wonder what's her problem with Vanessa, you don't know her but you've befriended her cousin Jake and he seems to be a nice guy; but now you see that she's bothered too, and so you let her be.

It occurs to you that your group of friends is really messed up. A sinister echo hounds back in your mind. Liz and her indiscretions, Will and Bella, Jeremy and Vanessa... wouldn't it be easier if you took total control of the situation?

---

-If you could change someone...-.

At your words, Cindy pauses and turns to you, while Krissy continues primping with her mascara without giving a sign of being listening to you. But you know she is.

-...who would you choose?- You finish, you too keeping your sight on the mirror, barely moving your lips so as not to ruin the work you are doing with the blush.

She pounders on for a bit, then reply: -Change like what?-.

-Change. Just... rewrite that person as you like.-.

By the quickness oh her response you understand that she didn't actually need more explanations.

-My mother for sure. Then Mrs. Stenback. Half of my coursemates, actually. Why?-.

-Just curious. Cindy?-.

-Uh... Maylene.- Oh, yes, Maylene Crawford, she was in your class during high school. A harpy with a clean face, which wasn't a demerit, but she had the bad habit of not wanting to bow to you. She's still around, you guess.

-Then those jerks in Calculation class.- She adds with disgust, which is a bit of a surprise since they weren't that nasty and she likes sleeping with a different boy per night more than a little girl with her teddy bear, but you have to admit that they've prooved to be really ignorant boors last week, when...

You stop, admired by your own impersonification of your sister. Which is not an impersonification, since you actually feel her scorn, her pride, her resolution. Awesome.

-And my mother too, I guess.- She ends, even thought she seemed to add someone.

-What's with moms?-.

-Mine is a bitch.-.

-Mine... yeah, same.-.

Hm. Kim actually had a cool opinion of your mom: sure, she was all sugar and honey, but she made her feel pampered.

Right at this moment, the door of the bathroom is opened and a round face peeks in. It's Lucille Ashton, "Lucy" since you don't like her name, another of your group, a rather short girl who strangely don't like wearing makeup too much. That's a shame indeed, a little more powder would hide the imperfections of her skin and make her look deliciously smooth. Of course, you could fix this defect yourself...

-Girls, Stenback is already starting.-.

You three snort very unladylike, since the bathroom is empty except for you.

-See?-.

-Yeah, you were right.- You put away your beauty case and, with a grimace, you realize you haven't brushed your lips. As you're ready to go, however, Krissy calls your name.

-Wait. What about you? Who would you change?-.

-Change?- Lucy repeats confused.

For a moment, you're addled. There is a nuance of challenge in her voice which, like the lip gloss she uses, blends ably in a fake naturalness and it would not be caught by a careless eye/ear. But that's her scheme, blatantly highlighting some traits to divert attention from others.

-Everyone.-.

When you're gone, you exit from the stall and wash your hands. You check your appearance in the mirror. Like last night, your reproduction is perfect, admirable. It would have been so easy, you think, so easy to slip on the floor and take them both, or burst out and do the same. But you hadn't decided yet if you would have gotten benefits from it.

You turn off the tap and pull your lips in. You hadn't decided yet. But now...

---

-Do ya eat that?-.

You turn your head to Nadira, patently perplexed by her question.

-What?- She shrugs: -I like snacks. You don't seem to be hungry, so.-.

-But you've already eaten two of them.- Heather points out gently.

-Girl, this choco booty needs fuel to shake! I'm not like, "Oh my gawd, plz save me, carbohydrates!". Mmm...-.

Heather winces at her subtle staring, as well as the lingering on her curves. You have taken your glances this morning too and... well, she certainly has nothing to envy you.

-Well, I was gonna say that you also should eat more, but you're already quite stacked.-.

-W-What?- She covers and tightens as if she had suddenly found herself naked. You feel compelled to intervene.

-Nadi, come on! You're not funny! Heather, she's just kidding you.- Though, those tits...

-I... I see... w-well, I need to go to the toilet, s-see you later...- She mumbles. Nadira grins at her back and takes a sip of fruit juice with a noisy suck. Her expression shows annoyance when she sucks air. You open your mouth to say something, but she precedes you.

-So, how long?-.

-How long?- You repeat puzzled.

-That you like her.-.

You almost **** on your saliva, arousing her giggles.

-Honeypot, I caught you three times in the last hour. Even now you haven't taken your eyes off her booty. I didn't think you were a lezzie, so how long?-.

-She's not, that is, I'm not, I wouldn't, I could never!- You blather, but she's not convinced. After all, she's right. You feel attraction to Heather, you fantasize about laying her down on the bed and slowly kissing her curves until she begs you to go further than kisses, and you would obey with pleasure. But at the same time, you feel that you could never, ever do something like that to her. You feel a protective instinct towards her as to a lost puppy on the side of the road.

Ok, that's not a very respectful comparison, but you definitely burned the saying "She's like a little sister".

-Relax girl, I'm the last person who judges.- She winds up while tossing the carton on the bin: -Actually I'm envious. Homosexuality is for rice-assed people. How I wish I could appreciate those melons dangling from your chest!-.

What a... cheek! And it doesn't matter if it turns you on, well, it turns you on, but that's not the point!

-I'm not lesbian! ...and even if I was, which I'm not, what are you talking about?-.

-Listen, girls are complicated.- She answers in a sigh: -But boys? Boys are jerks. The last one I dated turned out an asshole, and my brother thinks with his dick. And all the others are like them. I swear, I hate being attracted to men. Even if they are hot.-.

As an ex man you feel she hit home, but you see honest discomfort on her face and you don't reply. The bell rings another hour of class, and you head back to class where you cross Heather again, who walks with her head bowed. Behind her, you see the probable cause of her distress in a short girl with red hair. Bitch. What did she tell her this time? But who cares, if it always goes like this? If only she could answer back!

But maybe... you could do it for her. Maybe you could make Nadira attracted to women. Sure, you would break your oath. But wouldn't you be justified by your good intentions?