Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to Ilene Chaiken and Showtime. Quotes often come from books or philosophers, but that becomes clear in the story.

This is a more philosophical story.

BEACH – PART ONE

Did it matter then, she asked herself, walking towards Bond Street, did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely; all this must go on without her; did she resent it; or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely?

A shadow darkened the pages of the small book, rendering the closely printed letters illegible. Bette frowned her eyebrows and shifted her book in a different angle, biting her thumb nail as she always did when she was engrossed with something. The shadow moved with the book. Slowly she looked up, disbelief apparent in her eyes at the sight in front of her. She would have lost her balance had she not been relaxing on a towel. This never happened – nobody ever came to her when she was sitting by herself once again. And certainly not this person. No, of all people, Tina Kennard was the last one who would talk to her.

"What are you reading?" a beautiful, melodious voice asked.

Bette searched her memory for a precedent, but could not find any. She was absolutely positive that this was the first time that the most typical All-American girl you have ever met spoke to her. Tina Kennard, one older sister and one younger brother, her father owning a company and her mother staying at home to look after the kids. Tina Kennard, head chearleader, girlfriend of the football captain. Tina Kennard, Homecoming princess as a freshman, sophomore and junior, without a doubt the next Homecoming Queen. Tina Kennard, always the prettiest girl of them all. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but generally kind and not stupid either. But as far as Bette knew, she was too busy with her friends and keeping off the slimes following her around to look at the shy brunette twice.

"Hey, anyone home?" Tina asked with a teasing smile that made Bette's heart beat faster. The brunette prayed that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt - the last thing she needed was for the gorgeous blonde to know that she had had an eye on her since sixth grade, when she came to town and made everyone fall in love with her. She was Bette Porters first love and over the years, the feelings had only increased. Bette remembered every look Tina had given her, interested or not. Every small smile, every word she had said - even though these were all to be placed in the context of classes. She knew her entire garderobe, was the first to notice any minor change in Tina's appearance. Not that she ever said anything.

Bette coughed and looked away - she just had to. How was she supposed to stand the sight of a bikini-clad Tina covered in glistening water droplets?

"Just a book," she mumbled.

Tina sat down next to her and Bette used all her power not to move to the right just a little bit. The blonde dried her hands with a small towel she had brought and took the book out of Bette's hands. The brunette didn't protest. How could she? This was quite possibly the happiest moment of her life.

"Mrs Dalloway," Tina read out loud. She looked at Bette and the brunette was momentarily lost in those beautiful hazel eyes. "You going to take the AP Lit course next year?"

Bette had no idea what all this was about, but she decided that she would just go along with it. Tina wasn't one of those bitches who faked interest and were only mocking you, but you couldn't even accuse them of doing that because they pretended to only play nice and then they accused you of being stuck up.

"Yeah," she answered simply. What was she supposed to say? She had so many things to say, but all of them had to be left unsaid. For years, she had fantasised about a real conversation with Christina Mary Kennard. It had played out in her head, she had rehearsed the words again and again. And now all she could say was "yeah".

"Great, me too," Tina smiled cheerily.

Bette couldn't help but to look up. She could just stop herself from asking 'you?' incredilously. She didn't mean to be rude, but it just came as a real surprise as Tina had never really shown any interest in the subject - not in any subject, came to think of it. Okay, Bette wasn't in Eng. lit. with Tina, but she was rather positive that she knew Tina pretty well.

"What's that look supposed to mean?" Tina asked, feigning hurt.

Great, so she had noticed. And what was up with the playful attitude? As if they had been friends for years and this was how they acted around each other.

"I just... well... damn, please don't get me wrong, I just... I didn't know you were into English Literature."

"Oh yeah, I love it, really. It's my best subject. My only one that I score above average for," Tina smiled. Bette could hear how passionate she was about in the tone of her voice.

Bette looked into the blonde's amazing hazel eyes, reassuring herself that Tina wasn't playing games here.

"Is something wrong?" she asked the popular girl eventually, starting to feel really uncomfortable.

"No, why? Should I be worried about something?" Tina asked, genuinely surprised. She made a small movement with her head to get the hair out of her face, offering Bette a quick sight of her disturbingly inviting neck.

"Oh - I don't know, it's just that your boyfriend and all your friends are over there."

"And I'm not allowed to talk to anyone else?"

"That's not what I mean."

Bette knew she was digging a hole here and that she had to stop it before she got in any deeper, but somehow she couldn't. She wondered why the hell she had agreed to join the other juniors to this day on the beach, it wasn't like she had any friends. The only problem was that her mother had heard from a colleague of hers and she had been so enthusiastic about it that Bette couldn't refuse. Of course she could still have gone somewhere else, but she wanted her story to match a little with the one her mom would hear. She had never told Maxine Porter that she had no friends at school, she didn't want her to worry, which she would surely do. The weather was nice and she had brought her book - well, to be honest, she had brought three books, in case she got sick of one.

"Helena told me that you have to read 'Mrs Dalloway' if you take AP Lit. You reading it in advance?"

"No, I didn't know." Because there was nobody who would tell her. "I just... Virginia Woolf interests me, I mean, when you read about her life, she seems to be this intriguing woman and this is her most famous work so I thought I'd read it. You must think I'm such a dork, bringing a book on a day out at the beach." It was out of her mouth before she realised it.

"Of course not," Tina smiled. "Okay, it might be a bit unusual, but I guess everyone has different interests. To tell you a secret, I love reading as well. I don't bother to tell my friends, they wouldn't understand."

"They're your friends. It shouldn't matter to them."

"Oh, Bette, please. This is high school, you know what most people are like."

"Doesn't mean you have to pretend to be one of them."

"I guess that's why you're stronger than I am. You don't care what everybody thinks. I'm stuck in this role. I came here looking all American and everybody had certain expectations of me. Because they had those expectations, they were open to me behaving like that. It was easy for me, too. I was new, scared, didn't know a soul. I was glad that people clearly wanted me to be a certain person, because I sure as hell didn't know who I was back then. Over the years, it gets more and more impossible to step out of the role. You know, Bette, you'll find that your behaviour is always dependent on what people expect you to behave like. Take racism. If black people feel they are discriminated and people only expect them to behave like total scum, they'll try to show who they are at first, but in the end they'll give up and behave like scum because nobody cares anyway."

Admittedly, Bette was very surprised that this point of view was coming from Tina. She hadn't thought that this gorgeous blonde could surprise her. Finally, she cleared her throat and said: "I don't care what people think I'll behave like."

"So you wouldn't have a problem to go to school and act as if you're only interested in boys and booze?"

"I wouldn't do that," Bette said, a little irritated as she knew that Tina knew she wouldn't do this.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not me."

"Would people buy it if you did that?"

"Of course not."

"Why not?"

"Because they know that's not who I am."

Tina faked the sound that comes up when someone gives a wrong answer in a television quiz. "Because you're not behaving like the person they think you are. But how on Earth would they know? Maybe you really are only interested in boys and booze. Now, imagine that really is the truth. You wake up in the morning and it's all you care about. What will you do at school? Behave like you always do - because people expect you to. You know people talk about you and you don't want to draw any more attention to you than there already is."

"Where does all of this come from, Tina?" Bette asked with raised eyebrows.

Tina sighed and lifted her arms so she fell down on the large towel. "I have been thinking a lot. Through the years, I mean. And reading a lot. I have read so many interesting things, thought them over, written those thoughts down. I have a box full of diaries. But I find that I miss someone to talk to, someone who understands. I think you would understand. I know I only have one more year to go, but I'm sick and tired of being the empty-headed cheerleader. Maybe I was like that when I came from North Carolina - I didn't know anything. But I've changed. I can't go to my so-called friends with these thoughts, though. They'd declare me mad."

"Why don't you just drop them then and make new friends? Why should you behave like they expect you to?"

"Because it's easy. Because it's your life as you're used to it and I'm having enough problems as it is."

"What do you mean?"

Tina smiled a bitter smile. She looked over at her friends, but turned away quickly. "Maybe I can talk about that later. I just... you have to understand that coming to you now is a big step for me, Bette. It's what I've been planning to do for month. But I wanted to get it right. I didn't want you to think I was stupid, saying stupid stuff. You might as well think that now, but at least I tried. And to tell you the truth, I was scared. Scared of what people would say. But I'm sick of it and it doesn't matter as much anymore. I want to talk to you for hours on end. Ever since I arrived, I noticed you. You were different. Quiet, intellectual, beautiful without knowing it. I have always looked up to you."