i. I Want You Now

A is for Anticipation

There's a lot of buildup before Maureen sees her.

Her entire class is talking about the girl at open mic last week, and do you think she'll be there again, and Maureen resists the urge to scream at them that this isn't a class for talking about music, it's creative writing, and she hates those stupid folkie-indie open mic night singers who think they're so cool because they write songs with only guitar and lyrics that usually are about breakups and suck.

But Mellisa or Andrea or whoever it was that Jessica was dating this week convinces her that this girl is the "new real thing", and Maureen finds that term so amusing she agrees to go check it out. She probably won't even be back.

But she is, and Maureen sits back and sips her drink and expects to hate her.

April steps onstage and smiles nervously, and Maureen's stomach flutters, and everything she was planning on thinking about this girl is gone, left with just two thoughts: that she has to meet her, and that she wants to kiss her and see if the boy in the song is right and she tastes like cherries.

ii. Everbody Stares at Me

B is for Bamboozle

Maureen comes back to open mic night five times before she talks to April. April's not playing every night, but when she's not, there's something in her eyes that keeps Maureen away.

But one night, April's not playing and she doesn't have her oddness, and Maureen goes up to talk to her. And, of course, it goes well. April is drawn to her, like everyone she goes after is. Things look like they'll work out just fine.

But when Maureen leans in for a kiss, April pulls away, and then she walks away, leaving Maureen wondering why April won't act on desires she can see are there and knowing that if she just keeps coming back, they'll keep growing until April can't stay away.

iii. I'll Be Either One Or All of the Above

C is for Collapse

I need new underwear.

Maureen is teasing April on the phone, listening with satisfaction as April's voice grows more frustrated, more longing.

-You do?

Yeah, my bras are all falling apart. I don't usually wear one anymore.

-O-oh.

Maureen smirks and pauses before she makes her next comment, almost innocent.

You know what's really sexy?

-What?

Pretty woman in heels and a white dress shirt and nothing underneath.

-Yeah, I guess, if you swing that way.

Know what's even sexier?

-What?

When that woman's me.

There's a long silence, and Maureen asks, her voice low, tempting:

What are you thinking about?

April pauses before she answers.

-Well, I'm thinking about you in a white dress shirt, now. There's irony and a little amusement and a slight smile in April's voice, but Maureen can only hear victory as the last wall keeping her out collapses.

iv. Sea Salt and Sandbars

D is for Dank

Maureen scowls at April, trying to pretend the hysterical giggles aren't contagious, that she's actually upset about her little joke.

April!

-Maureen! April mimicks her tone and her face almost-perfectly, and Maureen sighs.

Well, now I'm wet. That's not fair.

-Why not?

You're dry.

-So?

And... I don't like it when I'm the only one wet. Maureen puts an emphasis on the last word, and watches April's breath catch even as she's laughing. Then she's pressing up against April, and the water bottle gets dropped to the floor, spilling out and soaking the carpet as Maureen gets April wet and they both love every moment of it.

v. Now I Know

E is for Elliptical

There are things that you don't notice until you can be around to see the tiny and not-so-tiny clues.

When April's just coming to see Maureen, she doesn't pick up on the little clues. She knows about April's boyfriend, knows he's a typical rockstar, and that April says he's got a heart of gold, if not in those words. She knows April goes to the shows, hangs out with the band.

She doesn't realize until she's moved in that the cryptic sentances about where April was last night, the long sleeves all the time, the nervous glances when they're out on the street -- it all adds up to one thing, and Maureen's just started to realize what she's gotten herself into, now that it's impossible to leave.

vi. And Now I'm Losing You

F is for Fatal

This is not a joke, April!

Hours, hours, hours spent screaming, screaming, screaming until the words rang in her ears long after the last screams of anger and fear and ecstacy fell into silence.

This is AIDS, April. It's fucking fatal. It means fucking death.

-I'm not gonna get AIDS!

How the hell do you know that?

-I don't share needles.

You share with Roger.

-He won't get sick either.

He sleeps around. You should leave him, April, he's no good, he sleeps around behind your back, meaningless sex-

-Isn't that what we're doing?

Fuck you.

Maureen isn't sure what the meaning of "meaningless" is anymore, if falling in love is meaningless, if death is meaningless.

vii. Throw Out Your Rulebook

G is for Girdle

April puts constraints on the relationship. April is nothergirlfriend, notherlover, notinpublic. Secret, hidden and hiding, best friend, fuckbuddy, but nothing more, no matter what Maureen feels, no matter what April seems to feel. So many of their words fall out in pairs of three (oh god yes, please Maur there, need you now, fuck me now, right here please) but they will never be those three words.

Mark lets Maureen set the boundaries, and since Maureen doesn't like boundaries, she doesn't set any. Mark is the yesthisismyboyfriend, comeonletsgoonadate, kissmeinpublic, fuckmewherewecouldgetcaught. MaureenandMark is the opposite of AprilandMaureen, and Maureen just wishes she could have both in one.

viii. Get What You Need

H is for Hankering

The Loft is little and crowded, and it's bursting at the seams with wants and needs and dreams.

Benny wants to make thing better, he needs to keep his dignity, he dreams of his studio. Collins wants to be heard, he needs to be happy, he dreams of being healthy again. Mark wants to stay in the background, he needs his camera, he dreams of becoming even slightly famous. Roger wants to be famous, he needs the drugs, and only he (and maybe Mark) knows what he dreams of. April wants Maureen, she needs the drugs, she dreams of Roger.

Maureen knows her answers, if anyone asked, would be April, a good life, and the spotlight. She's just not sure if she wants April, needs the spotlight and dreams of a good life; if she wants a good life, needs April, and dreams of the spotlight; or if she wants the spotlight, needs April, and dreams of a good life.

Whichever it is, odds are high that she needs April, and odds are even higher that she won't get what she needs, whichever it is.

ix. And You're Mine, We're Doing Fine

I is for Ink

-What do you think? April asks cheerfully, tugging down her skirt enough so Maureen can see the new markings on her hip.

You got a tatoo?

-Yeah. You like it?

April is bouncy, happy, full of life like she was when they first met, without the drugs for once; and Maureen would love to say she likes it and just move on and pretends this means nothing, but her voice is caught in her throat and her eyes are stuck on the guitar and the fairy and god what does it mean?

-Well?

Maureen clears her throat and runs her finger over it lightly, smiling. It's gorgeous, baby. Like you.

-Glad you like it, fairygirl.

And Maureen can't help but smile a little more.

x. Take a Little Love Where You Can

J is for Jugular

April's mouth is on her neck, kissing and sucking and biting, and oh god it feels good and she can forget, just for a moment, that everything's wrong, that she's not April's only, and since no one else is home she moans April's name without forcing herself to stay quiet. And everything feels so right, to be here with April, to be in love with April, it feels real and almost perfect...

That night, she walks in on April and Roger kissing in the kitchen, with April's mouth on Roger's neck, kissing and sucking and biting the same way she'd been driving Maureen crazy earlier. It feels like there's a tiny cut everywhere April had kissed; or maybe a rope around her neck, the neck that April loves so much, tightening slowly with every kiss Roger gets that should be Maureen's.

xi. Draw a Little Blood

K is for Knife

When they fight -- about the drugs, about the cutting, about Roger, about anything -- April's words fall sharp as knives.

I can take care of myself I don't need your help I'm fine fuck off Maureen.

They're how Maureen feels the burn of the razor across April's arm, the pierce of the needle into a vein. They hurt more than the thorns on a rose.

Their last fight, April doesn't cry afterwards, just yells (go away, Maureen, leave me the fuck alone, I don't need you) and slams her bedroom door.

Maureen doubles over, clutching her stomach, certain if she moved her hands there'd be blood.

When she comes home, April is dead. She dragged a knife over her own wrists and bled out in the bathtub.

Maureen won't be moving her hands for a while.

xii. Little Lost Girl

L is for Loner

Something that was always a defining part of Who Maureen Is disappeared after her. Suddenly the hyper, almost manic energy that came with crowds and people and noise turned into fear and panic and confusion. She lost herself in a crowd, instead of finding herself there.

When you sit on the outskirts of a crowd, she realizes, you notice things.

You notice the people in the middle of the crowd, the fakeness of smiles and cheerful tones.

You notice the woman sitting aside, not because she'll get lost, but because she's digusted by the whole thing.

Maureen notices her, and wonders if she could get a little of herself back, a little of that part that got buried with her -- if she could find that part that thrives on the crowd with the women who don't fear it.

xiii. I Wished For You

M is for Marvel

I'm Maureen. She flashes her best "fuck me" smile and slides onto the bar stool so that her short skirt climbs up higher. She watches the woman's eyes travel over her clingy top, down over her thighs, down and back up and again, and she waits for the interest. Waits for flirting looks and not-quite staring glances, inviting smiles and double-edged remarks. Waits for everything that will lead to her getting into this one's bed, fucking her desperately, and inevitable dissapointment that she didn't find that part of herself with this one, either.

She doesn't expect the cool detatchement in the return smile, or the way the woman's eyes return to her drink as if bored.

-I'm Joanne. Her tone is as cool as her face.

And Maureen thinks she might have found something she was looking for with this one, if she can just get her to look again.

xiv. Can't Feel You There

N is for Narcotic

There's something numbing about being with Joanne. Loud fights and angry words take the place of hushed whispers and quiet moans, and Maureen finds that it means she doesn't care anymore. She doesn't care who knows, who hears, and she leaves Mark because of it, which might not have been entirely smart, but she's not going for smart anymore. She's going for numb, and Mark's gentle kisses remind her too much of love, too much of feeling. Joanne nips at her lip and her breast, Joanne teases and doesn't always give her what she wants, and it numbs her enough that she can even bring herself, occasionally, to say April's name.

xv. A Change of Pace

O is for Opposite

Kiss me.

When she demanded it of April, there'd be a second's hesitation, a glance around to make sure no one was watching, and if no one was, she would. April never said no unless they would get caught.

April only said no to giving up her vices.

Kiss me.

When she uses the same tone and makes the same demand of Joanne, she'll laugh and tell her to beg for it. When Joanne wants to kiss, though, she'll just grab her and do it, no matter who's around.

Joanne says no, but she doesn't have any vices to refuse to give up.

Weak and strong, bohemian and classy, singer/painter and lawyer. They're nothing alike, not even the way they kiss, the way they make love.

Maureen likes it that way. No reminders.

xvi. Insignificantly Enough, We Both Have Significant Others

P is for Paltry

Mimi is fire and passion personified, so of course she and Drama Queen Maureen hit it off right away. Roger doesn't like it much -- he's never liked Maureen, though he couldn't tell you why if he wanted to -- and Joanne is, of course, jealous and worried; but everyone else is glad that Maureen seems to have finally dealt with her best friend being gone.

It starts with friendly pecks on the cheeks and hugs. Then there's pecks on the lips, still friendly, and hands low on the waist when they hug. Still innocent. Still just friends.

Mimi's hand slides up Maureen's thigh, under her skirt, while they watch a movie at Mimi's one day. Her fingers push aside Maureen's underwear and slide inside her, move inside her, experienced, until she comes and even she's not sure what name she's gasping. The fact that they're both almost-in-love with incredibly jealous people doesn't seem to matter at all.

xvii. Beauty In The...

Q is for Quilt

Maureen sees her family -- her real family, her friends, not the bitches she was born to -- as a quilt. Her patch in the center, bright and vibrant and borrowing off of all of the rest to make her seem even brighter. Mark is a dependable, comfortable cotton in a sturdy shade of blue. Roger is glittery, the kind of glitter that gets in your hair and on your clothes when you roll over it. Collins is an eye-grabbing but thought-provoking shade of purple. Angel is bright pink and bright blue, swirled together perfectly. Joanne would be dark green, Mimi would be silk and bright red, and April would be dark and slightly faded red -- Maureen's favorite colors for the three girls who make up the most basic fabric of her life.

xviii. Everything I Forgot To Say

R is for Rind

-I'm sorry.

Maureen picks at the tree, peeling off the bark in tiny pieces and crumbling it between her fingertips. So am I. I didn't...

-Don't. There is no way to escape the hurt in Joanne's voice.

Maureen didn't want it to end up like this. She didn't mean to let Mimi get to her. She didn't even realize she'd try -- it looked like this time she was going to stay loyal to Roger, now that she'd gotten her second chance. She hadn't expected Mimi to pin her up to the door the second it was closed; hadn't expected to be on their bed with Mimi on top of her; and she sure as hell hadn't expected Joanne to walk in just as Maureen was crying Mimi's name.

-You can stay until you find a place...

I'll stay at the Loft.

-Are you sure?

Yeah. I just...

-I understand.

A longer strip of bark peels off. Maureen studies it and tries not to cry. I love you. She can barely hear her own voice.

-I know.

Joanne leaves her alone, and Maureen presses her forehead to the tree, wanting the rough bark to cut visible scars into her, and cries.

xix. Barely Making Sense

S is for Startle

Roger was supposed to go first.

It hurt to think that way, but that was how it went. Roger was supposed to go first. Before Mimi, at least. And Collins was supposed to last longer than any of them, even longer than Mark, who'd always be there.

But Collins died quick, so quick, two weeks of pain and he was gone, and right before he died Mimi got sick.

Maureen thought that Roger would've died, and then she and Mimi could maybe be what she and Joanne were supposed to be. Mimi could be her last.

Instead, at least she was Mimi's last. The last fuck, if not the last kiss. Roger was her last kiss, in those last moments before she died.

Maureen told everyone she was crying so hard just because she was surprised.

xx. In The Spotlight, Losing My Religion

T is for Trickle

Some things come all together. It was in a rush that Maureen decided to leave home (at age six), that she fell in love with Mark, that she fell in love with Joanne.

Some things come little by little. That was how Maureen fell in love with April, how she started a relationship with Mimi.

Some things manage to do both at once, though. And now, all at once and at the same time so agonizingly slowly, Maureen is losing her mind.

She thinks she can hear things, sometimes: Mimi's laugh, April singing, Joanne yelling. Little by little, she starts to see things that aren't there.

She knows she's crazy the night she falls asleep curled between Mimi's ghostbody and April's ghostbody, still completely naked, and wakes up unsure if it was a dream, a hallucination, or a memory.

xxi. I Can Feel You

U is for Undulating

Mark thinks she needs to get out of the apartment.

He tells her this as he lies next to her in bed, his fingers tracing waves down her side, his body warm against her perpetual chill.

I like staying in better, she murmurs suggestively, smirking at him, and he shakes his head. That's all right. She knows this is just a pity fuck, really -- she's not sure who pities who, or maybe they both pity each other. But it's not love, not lust, not a relationship starting again.

-Maureen.

I'm fine, Mark.

-Sure you are.

She pretends she doesn't hear the doubt in his voice.

She does go out, occasionally. Finds a pretty girl and stays in her bed for a night. But apparently these one-nights aren't enough out for Mark.

She doesn't tell him that lately, staying in is safer than going out. Doesn't tell him she's almost gotten run over several times, she's so lost in her headworld with her ghostlovers. Doesn't tell anyone she's going between thinking they're real and knowing they're not so often she's decided that their spirits have come to live inside her body.

She knows it sounds crazy. She believes it anyway.

xxii. Pieces of You

V is for Votive

She slides the bathrobe off her shoulders and, in the light of the candles, she's completely unclothed.

-What the hell, Maureen? She cuts off his confusion with a light kiss, followed by a deeper one, pressing herself against him, rubbing against him until she hears him moan.

Take me. She starts unbuttoning his shirt.

-What

They're both part of me now, Roger. Take me, and you can have them...

He's confused, and she knows it, so she simply finishes undressing him and shows him, kissing him like April, touching him like Mimi; and when he comes, he calls out Mimi's name, and when she comes a few minutes later, she calls out April's, and she doesn't even care that her secret's out, because she didn't find what she was looking for in him, they didn't pass the parts of her they took onto him, and she's about ready to give up looking.

xxiii. Everybody Loves Dirty Laundry

W is for Wanton

They're at each other's throats when Mark walks in. Roger turns towards him, including him in the fight.

-She fucked my girlfriends! Both of them!

And I was probably a better fuck than you.

-Not the point! How would you have felt if I had been fucking Mark while you were seeing each other, the way you were fucking April?

Wonderful! Because then you'd've been in love with Mark like I was in love with April, and you could have him and I could have her and we'd all have lived happy ever after and she wouldn't be fucking dead from your fucking disease!

There's stunned silence from both the boys, and Maureen grabs her jacket and leaves, trying to pretend she's not crying, sitting down at the first chance she gets so she can disappear into her ghostheadworld with the only people left she loves.

xxiv. A Merry Little Christmas

X is for Xmas

-Christmas used to be my favorite holiday.

I remember.

-What happened?

And Maureen gives him a look that says all the "fuck you"s and "don't you remember"s that run through her head, and he winces.

-I know. I just... I don't know.

She can't be in this tiny apartment with him, this magical place that just fits six people, five people, but when you ask it to hold two or three, it gets so tiny, so suffocatingly small.

Merry Christmas, she tells him as she leaves, and when she's got her tongue inside the pretty girl from the street, she tries to pretend it isn't Christmas.

xxv. Never Make A Promise or Plan

Y is for Yank

Every so often, Maureen lets herself get comfortable. She did with April, with Joanne, even with Mimi. She lets herself enjoy the way things are, the way her life is shaping up to be.

Every time she does, without fail, her comfortable life gets yanked out from under her and she's left confused, hurting, and worse off than she was before she let herself enjoy it.

She should've know that the same thing would happen if she let herself get comfortable with her little pattern, with having Mark to beat away the loneliness and random girls to beat away the lust and her ghostlovers to beat away the emptiness. But she never does learn, and she left herself vulnerable for things to get yanked out from under her again.

At least this time, she won't let herself hurt that much. If she was worse off than she was before, she'd have to kill herself. There'd be no reason to live.

xxvi. The One That Saves Me

Z is for Zipper

-I'm giving up on men, the girl on the TV says in an annoyed voice, and Maureen laughs and shuts her television set.

She gave up on men three years ago, now. Had her first woman almost five years ago, and that was really when she "turned". Men just gave you trouble. Even Mark turned out to be trouble, even Mark left eventually.

Good riddance, anyway. Maureen doesn't need anyone except herself. She never has, and she never will.

And maybe if she says it enough, she'll believe it.

She pulls up the zipper on her skirt, slides her feet into her boots that make her legs look even better, and gets ready to go find a girl for the night, maybe two, possibly a week. However long it took to realize this one wasn't going to save her, either.