No preamble today. We went to the movies and I guess we made out. NO, no no no no, it's so much weirder than that, because I wrote it down like… damn, I should probably be writing this whole thing in pencil, shouldn't I? Way too late to switch; and hey, with pen I can't erase. Keeps me honest, I suppose.
Anyway, I hope you know that by "we" I didn't mean me and Ephram Brown. I haven't really talked to him since then, and that was… two days ago? Three? Something. No, I legit meant Amy (of course).
There's nothing really special about the movie or the day, or anything else. We were going to go see it anyway, some adaptation of a book that stars a cast of nobodies that the whole world is all keyed up about finally coming out… eh, I didn't pay much attention. We got there, we went in, I got snacks, she got the tickets. It was pretty deserted since the movie had been out for a few weeks, and we sat all the way in the back so the group of middle-aged people in the front rows couldn't see us, or even hear us if we whispered.
"You know I hate Sno-Caps," she hissed.
"I know. If I got anything else you'd have snorted it down before I even had one."
She grunted, taking the tub of popcorn from me. "Fine, whatever, greedy-pants."
We didn't talk much for the next thirty minutes, just ate and watched. Then, when most of the food was gone, she reached over and took my hand. Totally natural, like we were super-chill. What the hell? I tensed, and she flashed me a shy smile, so I made my hand relax. Eventually the rest of me took the hint. It was nice.
I put my feet up on the back of the seat in front of us and leaned back a little. Amy did the same thing, and after a few minutes I slid over and lay my head on her shoulder. She laid her head on my head. It was cute to the point of being disgusting, like My Little Pony. A few minutes later, I turned slightly so my forehead was touching her collarbone, and the feeling of skin there made me blush; just a little, not like I was about to have a heart attack. All was not quite "normal" but still fine for the following half hour or so.
Then, completely out of nowhere, I felt a tiny kiss on my scalp.
"What was that for?" I whispered.
"Nothing," she told me warmly. "Just 'cos."
I sat up a little bit to look into her eyes, which I could barely see due to the low lights reflected off the flickering silver screen. She bit her lip a little…
The next thing I knew, we were breaking apart and gaping at each other, wide-eyed and breathless. My feet were now suddenly tucked into the seat beside me so I could lean over toward Amy more easily. We couldn't have been kissing for more than a few seconds, but I could barely remember those seconds, and that was almost scarier than the act itself.
"Shit," I breathed.
"No, it's okay, I think," she babbled, clearly trying to come to grips. "I m-mean… wow, that was different, really different, but… I th-think we were k-kind of building up to that, right?"
Her lips were salty. Haha, popcorn, right? Geez, that stuff really seems to have it in for me! But at the time I was so freaked that I was wondering what it meant that her lips were salty, as if there were some hidden truth beneath the surface. Then I just looked at her for a moment, out of breath and on the brink of insanity.
"Laynie, don't be mad…"
"I'm not," I said, forcing a slight smile. I wanted to force a huge happy grin that would make both of us feel better, but I couldn't lie. "I… well, I'm wigging, but I'm not mad. It wasn't your fault."
"But I kissed your head," she whispered. "That's my fault. I got the ball rolling."
"I could have told you to cut it out and went back to my seat. Nobody's the bad guy, it just… it happened, that's all. So don't stress."
Amy pointed her head toward the moving pictures, still watching me out of the corner of her eye. "Could it… maybe… happen again?"
"Sorry!" she squeaked, tucking a golden thread of hair behind her ear. "Sorry, that was totally evil, I didn't mean it. Forget it."
We both held very still while somebody on the screen exploded or whatever. Then I whispered, "If you're sure you're up for it…"
This time, we both were licking our lips and trembling from head to toe as we leaned in. The first split-second was awful, like a bad commercial for something, or like having to eat a lemon. Then suddenly… we liked it. We were aware of what was happening and we liked it anyway. Or because? I don't know about that part for sure, I just know that for the very first time, I actually began to think of our shift in relationship status as a positive thing instead of a negative one.
I've kissed a few boys. Not a hundred of them, but one here, one there. Some were good, some, uh, needed a crash course before I could tolerate. With Amy it was a whole new experience; not because she was a girl necessarily, but at the same time it was. As girls, we're kind of trained from birth that the guy takes control, and the girl kind of molds herself to his whims. Kissing too: he goes in for the kill, we lie back and respond, he's the first one to initiate tongues, to take our tops off, blah blah blah. We can be the ones to start it, but if we do we're "slutty" or "fast", so in the long run it's smarter for us to be submissive... at least, in the bedroom. I refuse to be submissive in any other area of life. Period.
There was our problem - well, not really a problem, just kind of a surprise. We were BOTH trying to be the submissive ones, both expecting the other person to move first... and when they didn't, we both hesitantly made moves at the same time, testing to see if it would be okay. I mean, more hesitantly, because of our roles in this – we were already skittish due to the whole sapphic slant to begin with! Everything was so much more exciting when you had even less of an idea what to expect! I was the first one to put my hand on her cheek, but she used her tongue before I did. So on and so forth, ever and on, Amen.
DAMN was it good. Ridiculous and nuts, but good, so good that I wanted to keep going, but then I caught the couple on the screen kissing and a swell of music and I broke away.
"What is it?" Amy panted urgently, eyes still glassy because she was in Makeout Mode.
"The movie's almost over."
"So who cares? Not like we were paying attention, anyway."
We both grinned at the innuendo in that statement, but I said, "Cool your jets, Casanova Abbott. The movie ending means those people down there are about to turn around."
"Right," she said, embarrassed that she hadn't thought of such a thing. "Well... yeah, I guess that could lead to awkwardness and pathetic excuses."
We spent a few frenzied seconds wiping away the vestiges of spit and sweat and composing ourselves, and then sure enough, the group of people several rows down began to stand as the credits rolled. I vaguely recognized one of them as the mother of one of Amy's friends, but I couldn't remember which one – and another one of them was Dr Andrew Brown, who waved animatedly at us and grinned that SuperBeard grin. I wanted to curl up and croak, but I waved and smiled back, and so did Amy... even though she wasn't exactly friendly with him since he botched mending her would-be soulmate's brain. I mean, Colin was my brother, too, but I didn't blame him the way she did. Colin had given the doc a solid "Do Not Resuscitate" and I respect that (or I do now after much soul-searching). Amy never did.
"Isn't he supposed to be running a clinic right now?" Amy grumbled.
I shrugged. "Want the rest of my Sno-Caps?" The glare she gave me back was priceless.
Outside, we were about halfway back to the car when she said, "So... that happened."
"Don't make such a big deal," I sighed. "I mean, he did what he could; it was a risky procedure to begin with."
"Dr Brown." Then I stopped. "Wait, what were you talking about?"
"Us." Her cheeks weren't just rosy from the nip in the air. "Uhh... what we were doing before the movie ended. Believe it or don't, Everwood does not revolve around that one neurosurgeon."
Watching my shoes very intently as I walked, I brought us back to the topic. "It happened. What about it?"
"Shouldn't we... I dunno, talk about this, or at least pretend it was important?"
"Nah. No big deal."
Amy was aghast. "No big deal? I just-"
"I just made out with my best friend," she hissed; it was still kind of a stage whisper, though. "This is a boring afternoon to you?"
"Ames, it's not like it's the most ambitious thing we've ever done together, remember?"
"That was... that was just a one-time fluke," she snapped. "This was intentional and... and beautiful, it was really beautiful even though it was kind of WRONG!"
"You really thought it was beautiful?"
We stood for a moment next to her SUV, breath fogging in the air, and she grinned a silly grin that was more than a little contagious. Then, to break the tension, I fluttered my eyelashes as I walked around the car and asked over its roof, "Do you think... I'M beautiful?"
"Ravishing, dear, ravishing," she said in a decent impersonation of Brenda Baxworth. "That look is simply splendid on you."
"Splendid!" I said, mostly mocking the way her father always says it, and she rolled her eyes.
She drove me home and we kissed in her car. It was much quicker – the hills have eyes, and so do the big-mouthed neighbor ladies – but still set us to tingling and giggling. Giggling now. Shoot me.
Therefore, I have been rolling around on my bed for the past half hour, trying to decide if I'm exhilarated, creeped out, happy, or terrified. And my answer has to be "yes". Yes I am.
(There's a Melissa Ethridge reference in there for the smart ones.)
Goodnight, Journal. Here's hoping you find a pretty young diary you're compatible with, too, and you can get married and have lots of little baby journals – maybe they'll be Post-It pads. I'll read that tomorrow and think it sounds stupid, but right now who cares? I'm flying.
AUTHORESS'S NOTE: It's so dreary outside. I hate days like this. When will the rain stop falling? WHEN, I ask? On the opposite end of the spectrum, this chapter is like a warm sunny day. Not trying to brag or anything, but proofreading it before posting brought a smile to my face. Makes a gal feel accomplished or something.
Xpsi: Yes, there is that stereotypical thing with the stranger, but in this case it slipped out in front of a close peer. To be honest, if Laynie wasn't fretting over the whole situation as much as she was even AFTER it slipped out she would have been able to cover it up, do some damage control and pretend she hadn't said anything, but alas... also, part of it is that Ephram makes her nervous because she's still fond of him. And I hope that you're still enjoying it, refreshing crack (Futurama nod, lol) or not!
NEXT: Passion, interrupted. (Oh, wonderful...)