Interlude: Emotional Truth

Things were not going well.

Through some monumental display of incompetence—or possibly sabotage—the acts for the Final Showcase were completely screwed up. Instead of performing a scene from my all-time favorite movie, I was being forced to write a poem. A poem.

I'm all for self-expression, and if poetry is your thing, that's fine. Good for you. But for me? No. Not on your life. I didn't write music. I wrote plays. Movies. Not haikus. But somehow, the papers we all filled out and entrusted to our beloved team lead—can you hear my eyes rolling?—were modified in some way before she handed them in.

Evidence pointed to Tori's sister, Trina, but that didn't matter to me. If you're the leader, you're responsible for whatever happens on your watch. There's a million ways she could have secured those papers to make sure no one else got ahold of them. That she couldn't have seen this coming didn't matter; she should have anticipated every possible outcome. I would have.

But like always, I was outvoted. Vega infected our entire friend group with her nonsense years ago. Everyone liked her, everyone wanted to be friends with her. Why? She was pretty. She could sing.

And okay, fine, she often went out of her way to help people who needed it. Including me. How messed up is that?

I pulled into the driveway of my mom's house, feeling much more tense than I wanted. I did my best to leave school stuff at school, but this was a big deal and it was stressing me out. Not so much the fact that I had to write a haiku. I mean, I'm Jade West. I knew I'd get it done and that it would be amazing. It's the fact that it happened in the first place. And the fact that I gave up my first performance choice—singing—so that Vega could have it, and now the worst, most talentless person in the school ended up with it.

I sensed Cat's eyes on me. My foot was still on the break. I hadn't shifted into Park. My hands gripped the wheel. Well, I say gripped…it was more of a stranglehold. The garage door was wide open, and my mom's stupid, sensible Prius was pulled just forward enough so that anyone who drove by would see it.

"Did the steering wheel make you mad?"

Cat's question was innocent and idiotic. Kind of like Cat herself, though I did my best to keep that opinion to myself. I didn't see anything wrong with Cat for being that way. It wasn't her fault, so far as I knew. Her parents were a bit…well, simple. Her brother was batshit crazy. I don't know exactly the deal with him, but I think he did some pretty nasty stuff to or in front of Cat when she was young that messed her up a little. Again, the details were scarce, and we never pried out of respect for our friend. But all of us understood there was something about Cat. I just tended to be a little more blunt about it. Why cover it up? Then she'd just get confused and embarrassed about it later in life when other people weren't as nice as her friends.

But, I was outvoted on that, as I was on most other things. Why be honest when we can just not hurt her feelings? Imagine a world where the truth comes secondary to reality because reality is mean and hurts everyone's feelings. God help us all if that ever happens.

Still, hearing Cat's voice soothed my ragged nerves a little, and I released the steering wheel.

"No, it didn't make me mad," I said with as much patience as I could muster.

"Well good, cuz it looked like you were gonna kill it."

"I wouldn't do that with you here," I said with a smirk. "You're watching. You'd be a witness, and then I'd have to get rid of you, too."

I added a wink to the comment so she'd know I was joking, but I could see the doubt in her eyes and hear it in her forced laugh. She unconsciously rubbed her slender neck.

"Well we wouldn't want that now would we?"

Her modest chest was heaving and I realized I may have already scared her too much. My eyes lingered on the tiny line of cleavage as she slid her hand back down to her lap.

What are you looking at? Jeez. Get a grip.

"My mom's home," I said, nodding my head to the Prius.

"Oh. I get it."

And she did. Cat was witness to some spectacular throwdowns with my mom over the years. Even before my dad left, we had some epic fights. Far too often, my mom would choose to pick those fights when Cat was over. I hoped against hope that today would not be one of those times.

"Might as well get this over with. Maybe we'll be lucky and she'll be sleeping or showering."

We weren't lucky.

The moment my feet hit the main floor landing, my mom was right in front of us, twisting the cap off a bottle of avocado-flavored water that probably cost $20 at the health food store. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, wearing yoga pants and a crop top that left very little to the imaginatio. Just like with her car, her wardrobe choices were all about showing off to whoever would look. It disgusts me to say, a lot of people looked.

My mom wasn't unattractive. Not at all. I mean, you've seen me, right? I had to get it from somewhere. My dad's a handsome enough guy, but it was obviously the genes attached to that y-chromosome that gifted me my looks.

"Jadelyn," she said slowly, drawing out my full given name. She seemed to enjoy torturing me with it. She paid Cat the same courtesy. "Caterina. How was school today?"

"Fine," I muttered, rounding the bend to head up to my room.

"Whoa, whoa. What does fine mean?"

It was the same routine every. Single. Day. She'd ask me a bunch of questions to make it seem like she gave a shit, but it was just another thing that was all for show.

I turned back to her and resisted the urge to tell her that "fine" meant the opposite of how she looked in that ridiculous outfit. "It means nothing unexpected happened. They announced our showcase acts. That's pretty much it."

She took another sip of her water. She was so obnoxious about it, like how arrogant pricks eat apples in movies. "I see. So you'll be enacting the scene from that ridiculous movie?"

I wanted to smack her in her ridiculous face for that comment. She never missed a chance to tell me how much she hated The Scissoring and how worthless and schlocky it was. That was, frustratingly, one point that both my parents agreed on. In fact, they didn't find much value in any movie, or any of my other creative interests.

"Actually there was a mix-up with the form," Cat said, remaining bubbly despite my mom's oppressive attitude. "Jade gets to write a haiku!"

The corners of my mom's mouth twitched and I could tell she was trying to hold back a smile. "That's too bad," she said. "So who got the movie scene?"

Cat was suddenly much less bubbly. She wrapped her slender arms around her chest as her head drooped. "I did."

With that revelation, my mom stopped trying to hide the smile and let it completely cover her face. "That should be interesting. Have you ever seen this disgusting movie?"

"No, ma'am," Cat said, her voice practically a whisper.

"I'm going to help her with it," I cut in, urging Cat to start walking again. "That's why she's here. We need to get to work."

My mom shrugged. "Fine. I've got plans this evening. Here." She thrust one of her credit cards in my face. "Order dinner. Just don't destroy my house and–"

"And clean up when we're done. Yeah, I know the drill. Thanks."

"And no Beck."

A pain lanced through my chest at the mention of his name. "We broke up," I said. "I told you about it last week."

"Oh, that's right. Well, it's not the first time. I doubt it will be the last. So just friends or not, he's not permitted over here when I'm not home."

"I hadn't planned on it. Cat's here anyway–"

"I need to hear you say it, Jadelyn."

And I need to punch something if you call me that again.

"I won't have Beck over."

"Good. I'm grabbing a quick shower, then I'm leaving. See you tonight when I get back."

"Let's hope not," I mumbled, grabbing Cat's wrist and dragging her along.

"What was that?"

"I said okay, thank you."

Her eyes narrowed and I knew she had heard me the first time. She seemed almost disappointed at my lazy effort to cover it up. Just another thing to add to the ever-growing list of flaws she was keeping. It was getting so large, she'd need to go digital pretty soon. She was surely close to running out of storage in her brain.

Maybe she kept those memories tucked away in her chest, in the empty space where her heart should have been.

I led Cat into my bedroom and closed the door behind us. It was a blessed relief to be back in my inner sanctum, my dark, twisted corner of the world where I didn't have to give a shit about anyone else or their stupid opinions. I turned on my lamp, lit a few of my candles, and sank into my chair.

Not much longer and you'll be able to leave this shit hole.

It's never easy living in a home where your parents can't stand you. That's not some overly-dramatic millennial bullshit, that's the honest-to-chrysler truth. My mom has hoped I'd follow her in footsteps as a moderately successful, upper-middle class real estate agent. She had an admittedly impressive knack for finding people exactly the home they were looking for and getting them into it. And because of her connections, we had fallen somewhat ass-backwards into a house and a neighborhood that, despite her success, were still well beyond our ken.

It wasn't that she necessarily wanted me to become an agent like she was, but she desperately wanted me to care about the same meaningless things she did: connections, status, money, what the neighbors thought. But I didn't. I never did.

Okay, I cared about money. And I cared about connections that I could exploit for my own benefit. But why should I give a shit what Foofoo Richbitch thought about my sensible Prius or what Aldritch Moneybags' opinion was on my azalea bushes? My mom believed it was important that we "acted the part" as she called it, since we lived in such a ritzy neighborhood. But we weren't those people. She made a good salary, but that house was worth millions and we didn't have millions. The entire idea that we were some perfect, wealthy family was shattered the day my parents realized I wasn't going to play along. That I had my own ideas about life, and my opinions about my mom's charade and my dad's complete lack of interest in either of us.

I stayed in my room. I decorated it with things that brought me peace and comfort. Dark colors, gothic styles, even some disturbing (to my parents) imagery. I found a love for things that they hated; disturbing, macabre things that made them squirm. Maybe it was all a natural love for those things. Maybe it was a subconscious attempt at getting them to notice me. Whatever the source, it became who I was. And that was when they both just kind of gave up on me. I was just a lost cause. They never even tried to understand me or why I was so different than they expected. Instead they just fought with each other all the time, as if they each blamed the other for their freakish, non-standard daughter.

You can imagine the load of confidence that gave me.

I had no one, so I became self-sufficient. I worked through my own problems. I looked to movies and stories for guidance on life issues. And you know what? I think I turned out pretty well, all things considered. Especially after I met Beck. There was something about my weirdness that drew him in, I guess. He was a pretty boy, used to girls throwing themselves at him. But the thing about those girls is, they were all the same. Just stock characters. NPCs with nothing special about them. In me, he saw a challenge. He saw something abnormal, and he liked it.

I liked it, too. I liked that someone so tasty-looking and so chill could look at a misfit like me (okay, a hot misfit like me) and see someone worth getting to know. But I was always hesitant. Always afraid to really let him get close. My own parents didn't care about me, so why should he? I made him fight for it. I tested him. And more often than not, he passed it.

Well, until recently.

Cat dropped her massive bag on the floor and slid up on my bed. The noise shook me from my thoughts, and I glanced at the strangely bloated bag.

"What the heck is in that thing?"

"I couldn't decide what to wear, so I bought a bunch of stuff. Also my comforter from my bed to hide under when we watch the movie." She unzipped the bag and pulled out a stuffed purple giraffe.

"And Mister Purple, of course." It didn't surprise me.

"He makes me feel safe," Cat said, squeezing the giraffe. "I'd have brought Sam, but she wouldn't fit in the bag. And she said if I tried, she'd stuff me in there and ship to Calamazoo."

That drew out a laugh. Sam was Cat's roommate for the last couple years, some chick from Seattle that used to do a really funny webshow. We'd met once, a few months before Sam moved out here. We had become pretty good friends over the years. She wasn't into horror like me, but she was a tough bitch who didn't take anyone's crap (and who had a love of chicken that bordered on obsessive). We had a lot of things in common. So much, in fact, that Cat was sure we'd kill each other. Kind of like the whole unstoppable force hitting an immovable object thing they tried to teach us in physics. According to her, Sam and I were the two scariest people she knew.

I guess she wasn't wrong.

Honestly, I found Sam pretty fascinating. Not many people know this, but I was actually pretty attracted to her when we met. At the time, I shrugged it off as kind of a girl crush. Or maybe it was the narcissism my mom always accused me of having, since the things I found attractive about Sam were all qualities I saw in myself, too: the badass attitude, taking no crap from anyone, being willing to make little kids cry for a laugh.

But there was more to it, too. The chick had a killer body. And she was great at being feminine and pretty and still scaring the crap out of most people who crossed her. I admit, I got some interesting tingles more than once around her. I never chose to act on it, and eventually, we became good friends. But meeting her made me start looking at girls twice.

Yeah, you heard me. It wasn't something I ever pursued, and I'd have violently denied it to anyone who dared question me about it. It wasn't because I was afraid of being called gay or bi or any of that. People are gonna label you no matter what, and I already had some interesting ones assigned by the plebians who thought their opinions mattered. It's just that I found my mother so repugnant that I couldn't stand being attracted to anyone that shared her gender. Talk about mommy issues, amirite?

Regardless, I expected that interest would die an early death or I'd take it to my grave. For one thing, I'd always had Beck. For another, I'd never met any girls that would be able to handle me. I scared guys twice my size; what woman on Earth could take me on and survive?

But that interest was alive and well, and it caused the black heart in my chest to shimmy and jump when I saw Cat squeeze her stupid giraffe. "Is he old enough to watch an R-rated movie? You wouldn't want to scar him for life, would you?"

Cat wrinkled her nose as if she hadn't thought of that. "I guess he'll have to close his eyes during the scary parts."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that, I guess," I said. "I covered my eyes a few times the first time I watched it."

Cat smiled at that, and some of the tension went out of her. "You mean you were scared? You?"

Way to overshare, Jade.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep it between us." I grabbed my cell phone to call for a pizza, but instinctively went right to my texts. There weren't any, of course. Why would there be? The only one who ever texted me was Beck, and I hadn't heard from him in a week. But his last text, the one that said, we need to talk, remained at the top of my list.

God, I'm so pathetic.

I pushed that cheerful thought from my mind and instead opened my contacts. I found my favorite pizza place: Shakey's, on Whittier. "What do you want on your pizza?"

"Bibble."

I groaned. The girl had a one-track mind. "Cat, they still don't make bibble pizza. No one even knows what it is."

"I do," she sighed. "Just veggies, then."

Tony answered the call. He knew me well, and immediately put in a Jade special, which was basically every spicy meat they offered covered in three cheeses. I added a veggie special for Cat. And since my mom was buying, I threw in some cheesy breadsticks and some diet sodas. And one of those big chocolate chip cookie pie things.

I didn't expect us to finish all that, but so what? It wasn't my money. And I fully intended to eat my feelings after the shit day I had. If my mom left the key to the liquor cabinet, I fully intended to drink my feelings, too. Either option was better than talking about them, and there was always the chance Cat would try to get me to do that. She already seemed ready to ask questions about why I was so upset.

Before she had the chance, I ventured to my horror collectibles and gently removed my steelbook edition of The Scissoring from its protective glass cover. "All right," I said, waving the DVD at her. "Let's get started."

Cat squeezed Mister Purple closer. "I wish Sam would have fit in that bag," she whimpered.

"Turn it off! I can't watch it! Please!"

Cat's desperation wasn't surprising, I guess. The Scissoring was not a movie for the faint of heart, or for a soul as innocent as Cat's.

She knew the plot of the movie. I'd talked about it enough over the years. But there's a difference between hearing something "gross" and watching a pair of shining, silver scissors plunge right into the heart of a teenage girl, and the latter was far beyond Cat's ability to stomach. The sad thing was, this was probably the least gory kill in the movie (though it was one of the most emotionally profound moments).

"Jade, please!"

Cat's giant comforter was spread out across both of us and she was half-hidden under it as she buried her face in my shoulder. I fought my knee-jerk reaction to forcibly remove her. It wasn't really her fault she was doing it, she just couldn't take what she was seeing on screen. She was well aware of my aversion to being touched, so if she was risking it, it was for good reason.

Besides, something about that moment–I think it was the smell of her hair, to be honest–made me not mind so much. I shifted my arm so that I could wrap it around her. I dug out the remote with my free hand and paused the DVD.

"There."

Cat slowly turned back to the screen, then shrieked. "Jade!"

I guess I shouldn't have paused it right as Tawny was getting stabbed. I turned the television off completely.

"Sorry. There."

I felt some of the tension leave Cat's lithe body. She remained under my arm, but turned so she was facing the television The comforter slid down to our laps, revealing Mister Purple smothered against her chest.

Lucky giraffe. Wait…what the hell, Jade?

I chalked up the random, inappropriate thought about my closest friend to being an extreme lack of physical contact with anyone for weeks. I couldn't remember how long it had been since Beck and I had last…well, it had been quite a while, anyway. And self-care just didn't feel right lately.

"I don't understand how you can watch stuff like this," Cat whimpered. "How is that entertaining?"

For a moment, I wasn't sure if it was Cat or my mom talking. I threw the comforter to the floor, pulled out from underneath her and stood up, reaching for another slice of my Jade Special. "It's not about entertainment," I grumbled. "Some people are just wired this way."

"Wired to like watching people get…cut with scissors?"

"No. It's not about that. I don't really take pleasure from the violence. It's the adrenaline rush, you know? When you're afraid, your heart starts pounding. You get all these chemicals released into your body. Endorphins, dopamine, all that stuff surges through me and I just…I feel alive. Vital. Like I can do anything. And after it's over that feeling of arousal sticks around."

"Arousal?" Cat asked, and I knew immediately I'd chosen the wrong word. "You mean it makes you…wanna do sex things?" She squeezed the giraffe, giving it another nose-dive into her modest cleavage.

"No, no," I lied, as my knees shook. "I mean…I guess technically it's the same process. That's why horror movies are always full of sex, it's complimentary physiological reactions. But it's also psychological arousal, like being confident and feeling empowered to take on scary things in the real world."

Cat sat up, letting Mister Purple slide down into her lap, blissfully blocking my view of her dark, muscular thighs.

Come on, Jade, really? She's your friend. Your cute, attractive, friend with tan legs…

"You mean it's like a practice test, so you know how to take the real test?"

I finally shook myself away from admiring Cat's…well, everything, and nodded. "Exactly. When you're scared in an environment you know is safe, it teaches you how to cope with the feelings. That way, when you run into real-life scary situations, you know how to deal with it. Or at least, you can handle the fear better. And like I said, all those hormones and chemicals that get released can be empowering, too. For some of us, it's the only way we really feel anything at all."

Cat leaned forward and grabbed her drink from my coffee table. "I guess I get the idea," she said. Her red lips embraced the straw, and I squeezed my eyes shut. What the hell was wrong with me? "But it makes me sad to think that's the only way you feel anything."

I joined her on my futon. "It's not the only way I feel," I said, doing my best at pushing down the ridiculous feelings I was having in my stomach at that moment. "I just mean it's hard for me to get really emotional. But when I watch these things, I kind of get a taste of what it's like. That's all. Don't feel sad."

Cat's lips curled upward. "Kay, kay. But isn't there some way I can get ready for this scene without watching it? I mean…why'd they have to make it so gory?"

"They have to be true to what's happening. You know that, it's one of the first Sikowitz taught us. If she was getting stabbed with scissors, there'd be tons of blood. It's awful to look at it, but it's realistic in that way. And it's the same with Tawny's reaction. There's an emotional truth revealed in that moment; I don't know how to get you to see it without actually watching the moment." I peeled my eyes off of Cat's pretty smile. God, Jade, take a shower or something.

"What emotional truth? That girl Alexa just stabbed her right in the heart. And now Tawny will come back and kill everyone."

"Yeah, but it's not that simple."

"It seems pretty simple. I'm playing Tawny, right? So I just have to act like I got stabbed and then pretend to die. What's the truth beyond that?"

Oh, Cat…I wish I could make you see it. There was so much more to that moment than Cat's simplified summary. But she wouldn't be willing to try the scene again tonight. Even with Mister Purple in her arms.

Wait, the giraffe…hang on…

Maybe we could still make some progress. Maybe we could get into Tawny's head a little bit more.

I sat down next to her. "Forget the movie for a minute. Can I see Mister Purple?"

Cat squeezed him tighter, almost subconsciously.

"I promise, I won't hurt him." I nearly gave myself eyestrain to avoid rolling them.

With great reluctance, she extended her arms and gave me the giraffe. I placed the stupid thing on my own lap and looked him over with all the care and affection I'd seen Cat give him. "You're not so bad," I said to him. "In fact, you're kinda cute."

Cat giggled. "He is, I tell him that all the time. And he's soft. Hold him!"

The things I do to make a point…

I squeezed the giraffe and for the briefest moment, caught a whiff of Cat's perfume that must have rubbed off on him.

"That's very relaxing," I said. It wasn't. It was demeaning and embarrassing, but if there was ever someone I could be those things in front of and not worry about judgment, it was Cat. "Wait, what's that?" I brought the giraffe's mouth to my ear and pretended to listen. "Are you sure? I don't think she'd like that."

Cat raised an eyebrow. "You don't think who would like what?"

I rose to my feet and carried the giraffe across the room, acting as if he was speaking quietly to me the entire time. "I don't know. That sounds kind of mean. Well, okay."

Cat was on her feet. "What? What's going on? Why are you acting like he's talking to you?"

I turned solemnly towards Cat. "I'm sorry, Cat. Mister Purple has decided he'd rather be best friends with me now. He doesn't want to see you anymore."

Panic set in for a moment as Cat hurried over to me and ripped the giraffe from my hands. "Shut up, he did not! And anyway, he's fake so he can't talk! Stop being so mean!"

My solemn facade cracked. I hoped I didn't push it too far. "Okay, okay, you're right," I said. "But how did you feel when I told you he didn't want to hang around you anymore?"

Cat squeezed him against her breasts and my breathing faltered. "I know he's not real, Jade," she said. "But…it made me sad."

"Right. Because some new girl showed up and took the thing you love most in this world for yourself."

"Exactly! Even if he were real, we'd have a history. You can't just take that away."

"But that's what Alexa did to Tawny. She took her best friends away. And Tawny felt just like you did when I took the giraffe. Only a lot worse, because her friends were actual people."

Cat was about to say something, but her face suddenly went completely blank. Then, her eyes glistened. It was like watching a camera lens lose focus, then regain it. A smile spread across her lips.

"Ohmygosh, I get it!" she exclaimed. The giraffe hit the futon as she bounced over to me. "I get it! I understand! Thank you!"

Cat threw her arms around me. I was overwhelmed with sensory input. Her breasts pressing against mine. The smell of her skin and hair and perfume. The fact that her right leg was just a little off-center and pressed in between my thighs.

I didn't know what to do so I scrambled to backward. "Okay, okay, easy," I said, almost choking on the words. "So now that you get it, maybe we can try blocking out the scene? I've got the screenplay pages already printed."

Cat's smile lit up the entire room. "Sure. Let's do it." She grew very serious for a moment. "But no stabbing me."

Oh, Cat.

I can't remember a time when I needed a stiff drink more.

Yes, it's not legal, even in the privacy of your own home. Because of course, Big Brother knows best what you should or shouldn't do in the privacy of your own home. I mean call me crazy, but I think if I want to strut around in my own house completely naked with the curtains wide open, I should be able to do that. If you don't want to see, don't look. If you accidentally look, then I guess you'll have learned your lesson.

But nope. In that case it would be my fault that your nosy ass was looking through my open curtains.

And people trust these idiots to defend us and know what's best for us.

Since I was reasonably certain a great many people charged with enforcing such laws had already done far worse by the time they were eighteen, I didn't much care. My mom left the key to her cabinet and that meant Jade was going to loosen up a bit with some spiced captain and diet soda. Especially since rehearsing that scene with Cat.

It began innocently, I guess. We ran some lines and worked out some rudimentary blocking. The scene ends with Lexa straddling Tawny, forcing the scissors into her chest. We practiced it a few times, but during one of the more serious attempts at a performance take, I had a little mishap.

I straddled Cat just a little too low, closer to her thighs than her stomach. The close proximity had been screwing with my head all night. She smelled so good, and I was so worked up already. As I made to stab Cat with the imaginary scissors, she thrust her legs up. The shift put a lot of pressure against my…well, ladybits. And it sent a shockwave through my stomach and up my spine. I nearly fell on top of her; if Cat didn't have such quick reflexes, I probably would have. Her surprisingly strong arms kept me from falling on here completely. But they didn't stop my arms from trying to keep myself up, nor did they stop my hands from grabbing her..well…

"Jade, it's okay. I know you didn't mean to grab my boob."

Yeah. Grabbed a handful. Well, almost a handful. I've got decent sized hands, and Cat didn't have all that much to grab. But it was at that point I suggested taking a break. I dug out the key to my mom's liquor cabinet and dumped a bit too much captain in my diet soda.

That was three sodas ago. Or maybe four. Or maybe…what came after four? Three?

"You're gonna get drunk," Cat continued. "Just forget it, okay?"

"It's not just that," I said as I took another sip. "It's a lot of things. It's my mom. It's Beck. It's not getting l…" I trailed off. "Not getting lots of exercise. Its this whole stupid showcase being a competition and our acts getting screwed up."

"I know what you mean," Cat said. "Honestly I've had…things on my mind too."

Cat seemed genuinely lost in thought for a moment as she said that. Like the camera losing focus but not quite getting it back again. "What kind of things?"

Her eyes darted to the coffee table in front of us. "I don't wanna talk about it." She glanced at the bottle of rum, then grabbed it and poured some in her drink.

"Cat, have you ever had anything like this?"

She quickly drank it, then coughed and sputtered all over the table.

"I guess that answers that. If you're gonna do it, try it a little slower. The burn isn't bad but if you're not expecting it–"

"I got that part, thanks," she said. She took a slower sip and licked her lips. "It's so warm," she giggled. "I like it."

"Just don't drink too much. We don't know how you'll react, I don't want you to get sick or anything."

She wrinkled her nose at me. "Aww. You're a good friend, Jade."

I waved her off. "No, I just don't wanna clean up any Cat vomit."

Cat giggled and winked at me. "Sure. That's why."

I never thought I'd live to see the day Cat Valentine got drunk, but she handled it surprisingly well. Better than I did my first time drinking. Of course, I was fourteen and drank a bottle of Scotch on an empty stomach, so…lesson learned.

As the drinks flowed, so too did the conversation. It was probably one of the most authentic conversations Cat and I ever shared. I vented about Beck. I vented about my mom. I vented about Vega. Both of them, actually. Cat listened intently, giggling once in a while as the rum found the mark.

"Won't your mom notice that you drank all her…what is this again?"

"Spiced rum," I said. "And she probably won't even notice. She's got two or three bottles of everything and she doesn't really pay that close attention to them. She just likes the cabinet to look full in case of guests, and she tries to keep a bunch of weird exotic stuff up front to impress. You know, make it seem like she's cultured." I scoffed. "She's the least cultured person I know. Next to Beck. That asshole."

Cat poked her finger at me. "Language! A lady shouldn't such say…I mean say such things."

"Cat Valentine, are you getting tipsy?"

"No," she huffed. "I mean…I don't know. What's it feel like?"

"Well, you just start to feel really loose. Like your muscles let go of their tension and you're relaxed. And then, the little voice that most people have that keeps you from saying stupid things gets really quiet."

Cat motioned me to come closer to her. I leaned in. My heart was pounding, although I'm not sure why. Might have been how close we were. Might have been the drink. Either way, she still smelled so good. I'm not sure why I thought that might have changed. Not like she took a sludge bath in the past hour.

"Pssst," she whispered. "You must always be tipsy, because you don't have little voice at all." She laughed hysterically for about thirty seconds, and it was so infectious I couldn't help but join her. She wasn't wrong, after all. But after those thirty seconds, she suddenly stopped and looked confused.

"What's so funny?"

"You are," I said, raising my glass to her. "Funny and adorable, that's you, my friend." I could hear myself talking and my inner monologue nearly threw up in its nonexistent mouth at that remark.

"You think I'm adorable?"

"If you tell anyone I said that, I'll…well…I'll do something unpleasant."

Cat winced. "Something unpleasant? That sounds terrible. My lips are sealed." She "zipped" her lips closed and locked them, then threw away the imaginary key.

Oh chrysler, she really is adorable.

"So what's bugging you, anyway? Aside from the scene? And don't tell me you don't wana talk about it, I just spent the past hour spilling my guts about my mom and Beck and the Vega brats."

The glassy look she'd begun to develop dissipated slightly. There was a hint of worry in her eyes. "I don't know if I can talk about it. It's kind of a big thing."

That just stoked the fires of my curiosity even hotter. But I didn't want to force the issue.

Oh, who am I kidding, yes I did.

"You might feel better if you get it off your chest," I said. "Sometimes just saying it out loud can help a lot. You know? You hear it with your ears and your brain processes it differently from when you hear it just in your own head."

Cat shifted. She took another drink. Her glass was mostly just water by now.

"You won't say anything, right?"

"I won't tell anyone. Even if it's the most insane, ridiculous, tempting rumor, I won't breathe a single word to anyone. No matter how outlandish or ridiculous. Even if you said, 'Jade, I'm into girls' I will take it to my grave."

"Jade, I'm into girls."

I stopped myself mid-speech. My eyes sought out Cat's and stared, probing deeply to see if she was just messing with me. "I…you…um…what?"

Cat nodded sheepishly and turned away. "And boys, too, I think. I don't know. But I know that sometimes, when I look at girls…one in particular…I just get this feeling in my belly. And it spreads everywhere sometimes and I feel like I want to just–"

"Crawl out of your skin?"

Cat faced me again. The relief in her eyes made her smile even brighter, causing my heart to thud harder against my ribcage. "Exactly," she said, practically gasping. "Is that how it felt with you and Beck?"

I winced at hearing his name. "Sometimes, I guess. I mean he's so gorgeous, especially for a guy. And there were times when he'd kiss me or put his hand…well…" I squeezed my legs closed and rode out the chills I was giving myself. "So that's how you feel when you look at…girls?" Cat nodded. "How long have you felt this way?"

"I'm not sure. I think forever, but it really got more intense a couple years ago. I just thought maybe something was wrong with me. You know? I mean I know there's lots of things wrong with me. And I thought this might have been just another one of those."

I gently reached out and took Cat's face in both of my hands. "Listen to me. There is nothing wrong with you. And to hell with anyone who says otherwise. We're all different. And different is good. It's something to be proud of. So if you're into girls and guys, or just girls, or just guys, then that's you. Don't you dare think there's something wrong with you because of it."

Cat's fear softened into pure gratitude. I felt her hand grasp at one of mine and I pulled away out of instinct.

"Thank you," she sniffed. "That means so much. It's just that I get all tingly when I look at certain girls. Their curves, the way they smell, it's like I'm–"

"Tipsy."

Our eyes locked. My throat was dry. My glass was empty. My heart was ringing in my ears. Since when did Cat get so close to me? And why the hell didn't I care?

"Exactly. Tipsy. Like I feel right now."

"Me. Too."

Cat's hand brushed against mine, and my pulse skyrocketed at the touch. I looked down as she flattened her palm against mine. One by one, she interlaced our fingers. It was like a dozen matches igniting all at once.

"Jade?" Cat whispered.

Ohmygod. Ohmygod, is this happening? Is this seriously going to happen?

"Yeah?" My voice was harsh. Scratchy.

"I'm kind of dizzy."

She leaned forward. My heart raced so damn fast, but crashed just as quickly when her head landed on my shoulder.

"That's better."

My body practically shook with frustration. I gently lifted Cat off of me. She giggled as I laid her back against the futon. "That was fun."

"Tell you what, how about you close your eyes and get un-dizzy. I'm gonna take a shower."

"Kay, kay, kay…kay. Kay, kay. That's a lot of kays."

Cat giggled again and tried to count how many times she'd said it.

I decided to take a cold shower. Scalding heat often helped relieve muscle tension, but given my inebriated state and…well whatever the hell just happened with Cat, I was plenty hot already. I needed to cool down. I didn't make it freezing, but it was closer to room temperature than I'd have preferred. I shed my clothes, then took a second to check the mirror.

Yeah, yeah. So I checked how I looked from time to time. I'm not vain, but I know what I've got. Nothing wrong with making sure everything is in order now and then. And, for the most part, everything was. Though after the evening's binge, I might need to do some extra squats or maybe run an extra mile. I welcomed the challenge.

The powerful jets of my mom's custom shower head dug deep into my muscles. Hotter would have been better, but the pressure was great. I tilted my head back and felt the weight of my hair rest against my back. Water drizzled down my forehead, over my face and, as I stood upright, down my neck and chest.

I inched the heat up just a bit and let the water envelope me completely, rivets racing down my stomach, my thighs. For a moment, the powerful jets struck my midsection and my legs shook.

Ah, shit, I thought. Pay attention, idiot. The point is to avoid that.

I grabbed my lufa, lathered it up, and ran it the length of my arms, scrubbing as I went. I slowly moved to my chest, where a loose tuft of nylon from the lufa caught on my nipple and pulled. It was brief but the tug was firm enough to send a jolt through my breast, prompting an answering jolt from my midsection.

Oh, for chrysler's sake.

I moved on to my abdomen, then placed my left foot on the edge of the shower. I slid the lufa down my thigh and shin, then back up my calf, then up my inner thigh…

My stomach flipped as the lufa drew closer. Focus, Jade, come on. I washed my other leg, but my resistance was waning. The pressure from the sponge was tempting, a trail of fire everywhere it touched as I slowly dragged it up the inside of my other thigh.

To hell with it…

I let the lufa fall and dragged my nails the rest of the way up my inner thigh. I teased the outside of my slit, running a finger along each side. I could sense my body's natural moisture growing, but it wasn't quite there yet.

I pressed my back against the opposite wall, leaving my right leg on the edge to block the flow of water from the shower head. I brought my middle finger to my lips and went down on it, covering it with my hot saliva before returning it to my now-quivering slit. The moment I surrendered, I was overwhelmed with need. It had been so long. So damn long. I desperately wanted another's touch, but at this point my own was more than enough.

I took a deep breath and slid my finger inside. I was knuckle-deep in seconds and stifled a groan. I was more than capable of being loud, but my own voice did very little to turn me on so there was no point in letting it out. Instead, I focused my energy on being as efficient as possible. For me, that meant focusing on my clit and not teasing or playing around too much.

I could feel the pressure building. My fingers moved quickly, hitting all the spots I knew I liked. I reached deeper, curled my middle finger, and brought my other hand down to rub furious circles only clit.

"Oh, god," I gasped, unable to keep myself quiet.

Yet as I closed my eyes once more, inching closer to the edge, a vision of Cat on her knees in front of me came to mind. She looked at me with those big, brown eyes and that adorable smile…

I pulled my fingers out so quickly, I nearly slipped. The image was vivid. I could swear I even heard Cat's giggle.

Wait, that really is Cat's giggle…

I peaked out from around the sliding shower door. Cat was standing there looking…I don't know. Off-balance. Confused. But something in her eyes…

"Cat, what the hell?"

"I had to pee. I drank a lot. Don't worry I won't flush it 'til you're out. But I washed my hands and saw you in the mirror."

I glanced at the mirror. Since I wasn't taking a hot shower, the damn thing hadn't fogged over, leaving a perfect reflection of the shower door. And while it wasn't transparent, it wasn't completely opaque either. It would have been easy for her to see what I was doing, at least in the vaguest of terms. Clearly that had been enough.

My face probably matched Cat's hair as I flushed with embarrassment. I quickly turned off the shower. "Hand me my towel," I said, reaching outside of the shower door. I quickly dried and wrapped myself, then slid the door open.

I expected Cat to leave or turn around or something, but she held her ground, that strange look still in her eyes.

"Can I have a little privacy, please?"

"Oh. Sure. Sorry."

She seemed ready to turn around and leave, but something kept her anchored to that spot.

"Cat, please."

"I'm sorry. I seem to be stuck," she giggled.

I sighed in frustration and moved to her side. As I reached out to grab her arm, she did something I didn't expect. The last thing I would have ever expected.

She kissed me. Deeply. Passionately. Her lips were on mine, the scent of her filled every pore, and I was nearly knocked right on my unsuspecting ass. In one breathless moment, I discovered a new emotional truth...and it changed absolutely everything.