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*

CHAPTER THREE

AMBER

* *

OCTOBER 2003

*

As October started, I was more than frustrated.

At least I had one outlet--Rosa. And that almost sounds like I
was using her. Well, maybe I was, to some degree. But it wasn't
like I didn't have feelings for her--I did. There wasn't another
*girl* I'd want as a lover. There were, however, any number of
*guys* I'd love to have as a lover. It's not that I was actively
looking for a *relationship* with a guy, though I wasn't opposed
to it, either. But, actually, Rosa was really all I needed right
now emotionally. That would probably change some day, when I met
the right guy. Right now, all I wanted from a guy was to get
*laid*.

That wasn't happening. So, I was with Rosa. And it's not like
there was anything wrong with sex with Rosa. On the contrary--it
was great.

We were compatible in bed, probably because I was more aggressive
than she was. Rosa was soft. She wasn't fat, not at all, but she
was curvy. Except for my T and A, which I had, I was all angles
and muscles--Rosa was soft all over. Even her kisses were soft.

We were together this day, early in October. We were in my bed,
all curled up together, kissing. We were naked--we'd taken the
bus home that way as we usually did if it was nice out. We had
been nude all day--what was the point of dressing?

Anyhow, we were kissing. And, like I said, Rosa's kisses were
soft. Even when she was sucking on my lower lip--something she
loved to do--it was soft and gentle.

Our lips quietly rubbed against one another. She parted her lips,
and my tongue slipped inside. She sucked on my tongue lightly,
running her own all over mine.

We were in a clench. One of her hands was running through my
hair, the other lightly roaming up and down my back. I had my
hands cupped around her ass, squeezing her cheeks. Our boobs were
rubbing against each other.

I parted her legs with my kness and brough my thigh up between
her legs. I bent it up and rubbed it against her pussy. She
moaned into my mouth.

We were side-by-side, but I pushed her over so that she was on
her back. I climbed on top of her. We rubbed our boobs and
pussies together, as our tongues and lips dueled. Her hands held
my head, fondling my hair.

I broke the kiss, and moved my lips downward, kissing her neck on
the way down. I got down to her boobs and kissed all around her
flesh. I circled around, kissing her boobs all over, then finally
got to her erect nipple. I took it between my lips and sucked on
it, rubbing the tip with my tongue as I did.

Rosa moaned as I massaged her nipple with my lips and tongue. I
rolled it between my lips, flicking at it with my tongue. As I
did that, my hand roamed down and moved between her legs. I
cupped her pussy with my hand, feeling how wet she was, pressing
into it gently. Then I moved a finger up and down her slick
labia, caressing and fondling her pussy with my finger as I did
the same to her nipple with my tongue. After a few minutes of
that, I took my finger and slipped it into her.

"Oh, God, Amber," she gasped. She was wet and ready, and I moved
my finger in and out of her easily. As I added a second one, I
kissed down her stomach and headed towards her pussy with my
mouth.

All right. I guess I am pretty bi, because I love eating pussy. I
especially enjoyed eating Rosa's pussy. When she gets aroused,
she has a nice prominent clittie--nice and easy to wrap my lips
around. That's just what I did, sucking on it and gently flicking
my tongue at it--she loved that. It didn't take long, not witih
my lips sucking her clit and my fingers hammering away at her
pussy. Her hips rose off the bed. She yelped, "Amber!" and I felt
her pussy clamp down on my fingers.

I moved my mouth away but kept my fingers buried in her, as she
came down. When her breathing settled, I began taking her up
again. Slowly moving my fingers, I gently licked my way up her
labia. Her arousal returned in a hurry and I zeroed back onto her
clit. Her second orgasm was quicker and, if anything, even more
explosive.

I crawled up beside her after the second one and just watched
her. Rosa was awesome to look at after she came. Her eyes were
clenched, her fists were clenched, her cheeks all puffed out as
she tried to regain her breath. I loved it.

She opened her eyes to see me leaning over her, grinning. And
then she surprised me--before I knew it, I was on my back with
*her* hovering over *me*. Rosa wasn't usually aggressive. She
leaned over and her lips met mine--and she practically stuck her
tongue down my throat!

Before I knew it, her mouth was on my breast. Then she moved down
and lapped at my pussy. She lovingly sucked on my clit, as I felt
myself start to build up. Then, suddenly, she wasn't there
anymore. I opened my eyes, and saw her in front of me, kneeling
between my spread legs.

And she was wearing a strap-on! We'd played with toys before, but
never a strap-on. "Where'd you get *that*?" I asked.

"A little surprise," she said with a grin. "Amber, I want to fuck
you."

"God, yes," I groaned. She moved in--and stuck me with one good,
long stroke. I yelped--and it was in pleasure.

Like I said, we'd used toys--hell, I'd used them on myself. But
that was different. That was a hand, hers or mine, moving it in
and out. It wasn't the same as Rosa's hips driving it into me.

My Jesus, did she *fuck* me! I found out later, when she took it
off, that it had a couple of attatchments--one that went into her
pussy, and one that massaged her clit. So, she was getting
something out of this as well. She certainly pounded it in and
out of me like one very turned-on girl.

I wrapped my legs around her ass. She leaned over, holding
herself up by her elbows. Her tits mashed into mine, which just
added to the sensations. Then she covered my mouth with hers. I
held on to her waist as she plowed that magnificent fake cock in
and out of my sopping pussy.

When I came, it was with one hell of a *howl*.

And she kept going! I'd barely come down from my first orgasm,
and her ceaseless pounding had me headed for number two. She just
kept fucking into me--but I could see all those attatchments were
affecting her, too. She was panting into my mouth through her
kisses. Her erect nipples rubbed against mine.

I felt my pussy clamp down on the latex cock again, as my hips
pulled up off the bed and thrust up at hers.

And she *still* kept going! After that, I lost all coherence. I
know I got to a third before Rosa climaxed herself and collapsed
on top of me, completely spent, the dildo still deep inside me.
She pulled it out after a while and plopped down next to me. I
looked over at it. It was slick with my juices. No big
surprise--the puddle under my ass was practically a damn lake.

"Oh, my God," I hissed after I had finally caught my breath.

"You like?" Rosa said with a grin.

"Jesus. I have *never* cum that hard! And you--when did you get
so aggressive?"

"I dunno. It was like I strapped that thing on, and got this
incredible surge of *power*!"

"What made you think of this?"

She blushed, and blinked. "Look, Amber--I know you want a guy. I
know it's going to happen sooner or later." Her voice dropped. "I
wanted to do it first. I wanted your first fuck to be from me."

"Oh, Rosa," I sighed, leaning over and taking her in my arms. We
cuddled for a bit. "After that--honestly, who needs guys?" I
giggled.

"You do. I know this. Hey, so do I," she admitted.

"I had wondered."

"I don't seem to crave it as badly as you do, but I *do* want
guys. I just don't want us to lose what *we* have."

"We won't," I promised. "Any guy I meet will have to understand
that I'm bi and have a girlfriend. Of course, at Naked High, that
probably won't be a problem. I saw a foursome headed into one of
the pods the other day." Rosa giggled at that. "Which, I admit,
sounds like fun. Anyway--at the moment, I have no legs left--but,
next time, I want to do *you* with this thing." I gripped the
dildo. "If you were my first, I want to be yours."

"I'd like that," she grinned.

--------------


It's not that I wanted a guy any less, but maybe it made it a bit
less urgent. I vowed not to kill myself trying so hard. Rosa's
magical strap-on was a wonderful substitute. And, two days after
that first time with it, I found out I *really* liked doing *her*
with it. She loved it, too.

But I still looked at the guys, drooling. And I still got pangs
of jealousy. Tanya and Connor Enfield were as thick as thieves.
And then I had to listen to the exploits of my soccer buddy,
Jordan.

Including hand-job lessons with my journal partner, Joe Benson!

She told me about it one day after practice. "Joe Benson?" I
exclaimed. "I was under the impression that he was totally
hopeless."

"Nah," Jordan told me. "He's just shy, has no confidence, and is
inexperienced. Which just means that I get to train him." She
grinned at me. "He's *very* trainable!"

"You have a thing for him?"

"Nah, not *that* way," she said. "Don't get me wrong, I like him
a lot. But, at this point in my life, I am a play-the-field kind
of gal."

"What if *he* gets stuck on *you*?"

"That's why I've waited a couple weeks and haven't taken him in
for another lesson," she giggled. "Next one is oral. Every guy
should learn that one."

"Uh-huh," I grinned. "That's why I have Rosa."

She made a face. "Suit yourself, but *not* for me. I'm sure I
wouldn't mind *receiving* oral sex from a girl--a girl certainly
would know her way around down there." She made a worse face and
shuddered. "But then I'd have to *reciprocate*. No thanks. I'll
stick to blowjobs." I had to laugh at that.

She continued. "Anyhow, as I was saying, I don't worry about Joe
getting stuck on me. Besides which, he's got a thing for Darcy
Iniglia."

"Ugh. Somebody buy that boy some *taste*," I said.

"Yup. Anyhow, we're just friends. I'm just going to teach him."

"I need some guy to teach. Or vice-versa!"

-----------


Well, it wasn't going to happen *then*. The next day, I got my
period. Ah, well. That was one bad thing about Naked High. Don't
get me wrong, I was glad I got to wear panties that week--but
that meant *everybody* knew when Aunt Flo came for a visit.

And we had a game. Playing soccer when on your period is never
much fun. Anyway, I got a nice surprise.

We got drubbed, by Newburgh. We still hadn't won a damn game. It
was getting maddening.

Anyhow, I looked over at the bench shortly after halftime, and I
saw a girl sitting there. She was on crutches, a cast on her leg.
I looked closer--and realized it was my old friend Tiffany!

After the game, I couldn't wait to talk to her. "What are you
doing here? And what happened to your leg?"

She smiled at me, but it was forced. "I'm going to be going here,
starting tomorrow."

"You're *kidding*," I gasped. "How on earth did your Mother allow
you to come *here*?"

Tiff dropped the smile. "She didn't. I'm not living with her
anymore. I'm living with my Dad in Southport." She took a deep
breath. "I had a guy. In my bedroom. We were just fooling around,
we had barely gotten started. Now, I *was* going to let him fuck
me, but we hadn't gotten to that point. We *had* gotten naked.

"Mom came home unexpectedly. And she caught us. She chased Tommy
out of the house. Then she pulled me out of bed by my hair--and
threw me down the stairs. That's how I broke my leg. Got a
concussion, too. I'm lucky it wasn't worse. I mean I was pushed
and went head-over-heels down a full flight of stairs."

"My *God*, Tiff!" I hissed.

"Not the first time she's hit me, though it was never *that* bad
before. Anyhow, after I landed, she finally came to her senses
and called an ambulance. The police came with them, and I told
them--my mother threw me down the stairs. I think she expected me
to cover for her, or something. Anyhow, they took her in, and
called my Dad. He got me at the hospital. We had a hearing
yesterday and he got custody--my Mother might go to jail, anyway.
She's being charged with felony child abuse and aggravated
battery--and they're considering attempted murder. She's out on
bail, but I got a restraining order.

"I'd have to change schools anyway, and I wanted to go here in
the first place, though Mom wouldn't hear of it. Dad thinks it's
a good idea, though. They usually don't accept transfers--but
they let me in, because of the circumstances, and because I only
missed a month."

"Wow," I said. "Well, I'm glad you're here, though I'm sorry you
had to go through all that."

"Yeah."

"I'll tell you what, this *team* could really use you!"

"Not until next year, unfortunately. The leg won't heal in time.
But next year, we'll be rockin' `em!"

------------


I was still antsy. I still wanted a guy. But I was beginning to
think Jordan had the right idea. Grab a shy guy, and, while he
was busy being flabbergasted, drag him off to the pods.

I was thinking of doing just that as my period was about to end.
But, a couple of days after it ended and I was again able to go
full-nude, I still hadn't done anything about it. Because I
wasn't sure. It was easier for Jordan--she had some experience. I
didn't. I thought my first time should be with an experienced
guy, not a Joe Benson. I'd have to think about it some more, but
I didn't want to get into a blind-leading-the-blind situation.

But, while I was deciding, I lost the chance--and it didn't look
like it was going to come around again any time soon. Because,
you see, I became the school pariah.

It had to do with soccer, of course. We were playing
Davis-Lycoming. They were historically the conference doormats.
And, lo and behold, we found ourselves playing them straight up.
A game we actually had a chance to win. In fact, it was 0-0 at
halftime, and we were starting to carry a lot of the play.

There was one problem. Jordan grew up in Lycoming, played youth
soccer there. In other words, she'd played with some of the girls
at Davis-Lycoming High--and they knew how good she was. And they
quickly figured out that she was who I wanted to pass to. So,
after a short time, any time we moved forward, Jordan found
herself triple-teamed. And they were sticking to her like glue.

I still tried to force it into her a couple of times. I even
tried to take it in myself once or twice. No go--the ones that
weren't guarding Jordan would swarm to me and close right in
before I could get a decent shot off.

Which left Jenna.

And I tried. The first pass I gave her, early in the second half,
was good but not great. I could cut her *some* slack for missing
that one. It was slightly behind her when it landed at her feet.
Yeah, Jordan would've handled it, and gotten something
off--especially if she were wide open, as Jenna was. But it
wasn't perfect.

The next two *were-*-perfect, I mean. Absolutely. And they were
within a few minutes of one another. Both times, I pulled the
defense off to one side, towards Jordan and I--including the
goalie. Both times, that left Jenna unguarded *and* with an open
net. Both times, I gave her absolutely picture-perfect passes. I
mean, they were things of beauty. Right at her feet, an empty
net--all she had to do was kick it in.

Both times, she fucked up. The first one, she feebly waved at it
with her foot and whiffed. The second one, she didn't even
try--just watched it roll harmlessly past her feet.

I was absolutely livid. I could've strangled the bitch.

Those were the last passes she got from me, I can guarantee you
that. I tried to force it to Jordan or force it in myself a
couple more times. At one point, I even waved Kendra Corrigan
forward. Kendra was one of our wingers, an outside midfielder. I
brought her forward and we attempted a little give-and-go. It
didn't work. At least Kendra *tried*!

Of course, seeing all these wasted scoring opportunities
demoralized our defense. Late in the second half, Davis-Lycoming
scored.

Another fucking loss.

I tried to control myself--I really did. I clomped off to the
locker room in a snit, but I tried to hold back. I had pulled my
uniform shirt off--hey, I spent half the day nude, did I care
about walking off the field in a sports bra?--and I had it balled
up in my hand. I was squeezing it to try to relieve the tension.
I walked into the locker room, determined to keep control.

And I think I would've been successful, if I hadn't walked into
the locker room and seen Jenna. She was sitting on the bench in
front of the lockers, huddled up with one of her little
buddies--*giggling*! That fuck had just cost us the game, and she
*dared* sit in the locker room *laughing*?

*That's* when I lost it.

My shirt was what was in my hand, so that's what I threw. *Hard*.
I missed her head by less than a foot, the shirt went *thwap
*against the lockers. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
I screamed. That wiped the smile off her fucking face.

And I wasn't done. "What the hell was that out there? You cost us
the game! You're absolutely fucking hopeless! And then you have
the audacity to sit here and *laugh* afterwards?

"You're worse than useless. You fucked this whole team over
today. If you can't work, if you can't try, then get the fuck off
of my soccer team. You're a disgrace to the uniform."

With that, I tore off the rest of my clothes and stomped into the
showers, steam still coming out of my ears.

Rosa came into the showers after a bit, followed closely by
Jordan. And then Rosa shocked me. "Don't you think you were a
little hard on her?" she asked.

"WHAT?!?" I blurted, incredulous. " *Hard* on her? Did you *see*
her out there?"

"Well, not really. Don't forget, I'm down the other end."

"Well, then, you don't know," I said.

"Yeah, but, whatever she did--I think you overreacted. I mean,
come on, Amber--she's out there at her locker *crying*!"

Before I had a chance to say anything to that, Jordan did it for
me. "Rosa, don't you know crocodile tears when you see them? Come
on," she snorted. "Yep, she's crying, all right. She's starting
right in on her own little pity party."

Rosa looked at Jordan. "You *agree* with what Amber did?"

"Hell, yes. I would've slugged her!"

Just then Bree poked her head into the shower area. "Amber? Coach
came out of her office at the end of the screaming. Jenna gave
her a sob story, so now Coach wants to see you."

I took a deep breath. "Please tell Coach it might be best if we
talked tomorrow, after I've calmed down."

Bree nodded, and left. She came back a few minutes later, telling
me Coach had agreed to that.

I finished my shower and got the hell out of there.

I thought about it when I got home. Could I have been a little
less brutal? Perhaps. But I was so damn pissed at her. I mean,
*laughing*! After you blew the game! I thought I was in the
right--but I also strongly suspected I was going to be the one
that had to pay for it, and in more ways than one.

-------------

I was right. It was the next day that I became a pariah.

Rosa still thought I had gone too far. And she wasn't the half of
it.

Tanya railed at me. Now, I know where a lot of that was coming
from--Connor, her boyfriend. Connor was, I'd thought, a good
guy--but being a football star made him one of the Beautiful
People. And, though he wasn't one of Jenna's fuck buddies--he was
loyal to Tan--a lot of his friends were. Tan hung around those
people, through Connor. I'm sure she'd already heard Jenna's Tale
of Woe.

I didn't even try to defend myself. You know what? Fuck `em. Tan
and Rosa even walked right by me as I sat at our usual table at
lunch, snubbing me. Fuck `em all.

Jordan, Bree, Gabi and Tiffany joined me for lunch. At least I
had *some* support on the team.

The rest of the day was a descent into hell. Murmurs, stares,
even the odd shouted insult. It was official. Because I had dared
to cross The Princess, I was now officially The School Bitch.

So be it. I really didn't care. Of course, any chance I had to
get *laid* any time soon just went right out the window. It
didn't even look like Rosa was an option anymore.

After school, I got set to traipse in to the office and see
Alice, my coach.

"Sit," she said. "OK, exactly what happened?"

"I tore Jenna's miserable little head off, that's what happened.
Verbally, I mean-not physically. Though I was damn tempted."

"Amber, what were you *thinking*?"

"What was I thinking? Come on, Alice. You saw the game. You saw
what she did. And I came back into that locker room and saw her
giggling with one of her buddies. She doesn't care, she doesn't
work, and she cost us the game."

"There are better ways to handle it."

"Yeah. Yank her out of the fucking starting lineup," I said
pointedly. "But you won't do that."

She sighed. "You know how difficult this is, Amber. We barely
have a team. I've got all freshmen--half the team barely knows
the game. Who would I start in her place?"

"Move Kendra up. She doesn't have Jenna's speed, but she's got
ball skills. And, more importantly, she'll *work*."

"And who goes in Kendra's place?"

"That's easy. Taylor."

She sighed. "I don't know. That might make us weaker at two
positions--Kendra's doing well at right midfield. I'll have to
think about it. Anyhow, it can't be next game--I need Taylor to
play your position. Amber, I have to suspend you for a game. I
just can't have these kinds of outbursts."

I'd expected that. "Fine."

"And you need to make an apology, in that locker room, to Jenna."

*There*, I dug in my heels. "Sorry, coach, that just isn't going
to happen."

"It has to."

"Over my dead body."

"Look, Amber, if you don't, I'll have to strip you of your
captaincy."

"Fine," I spat.

She was flabbergasted. "You'd give up being a captain instead of
giving a little apology?"

"You know what? As much as I love soccer, as much as it means to
me--I'd quit the team before I apologized to that little snot."

"You *wouldn't*!"

I took a breath. "Alice, let me spell it out for you. I hate that
sickening little fuck with every fiber of my being. I cannot
possibly overstate my complete loathing of Jenna Zambrano. She
makes me ill. Apologize to *that*? I will *not* lower myself. No
matter what it costs me. My self-respect is more important."

Poor Alice's jaw was hitting the floor. "You know what my little
pet name for her is? Knick-knack. You know, that's just what she
is--a knick-knack. Pretty and all--but basically useless and just
takes up space. And, what's worse, the way she's *not* a
knick-knack is being whiny and manipulative. I have no use for
Princesses who bat their eyelashess and turn on the water works
when the world doesn't bow to their whims. Fuck Jenna. I'll never
apologize."

Alice took a minute to absorb that diatribe. Finally, she said,
"OK. But you need to find another way to deal with her."

"I'll work on it."

"Consider your captaincy under warning."

"Fine."

--------------------------

Practice that day, and shortly thereafter, wasn't pleasant. Lines
had clearly been drawn on the team. And it didn't affect just me
and Jenna. Bree was incensed that Rosa had shunned me, so they
were barely speaking to one another. When your sweeper wasn't
communicating with your goalkeeper, you had yourself a
problem--those two positions are very intertwined.

I sat out the next game. Poor Taylor was completely overmatched.
She did her best, but she was dealing with a team at war with
itself and a forward she couldn't count on at all. We got
hammered.

The next game, I was back in. And, in some ways, you could say
that I threw the game.

It was against Sweetwater. They were the biggest school in the
conference, and a perennial power. In *all *sports, but their
girls' soccer team was particularly strong. In other words, we
had little chance of winning in any case. So, I used the game to
prove a point.

I passed the ball to Jenna. All day long. Hey, it *was* the smart
play--Jordan was costantly triple-teamed again. Jenna was the
open forward, repeatedly. So, she got the ball, repeatedly. And
she fucked up, repeatedly.

After the game, in the locker room, I didn't plan to say a word.
I'd done what I'd planned. I'd exposed her, for all to see--that
was my full intention.

This time, *she *started it. She saw me sitting there, stormed
over to me, and thundered, "You humiliated me!"

"How?" I said with fake sweetness. "All I did was pass you the
ball. Isn't that my job?"

"But you kept passing it to me, even when I wasn't in position!"

"You're *never *in position," I spat.

"And you never usually pass to me--you did it deliberately!"

"You were open," I shrugged. "Not my fault you can't handle the
pass."

"Well, Amber, we all can't be as good as you."

Nice of her to admit it, in front of the whole team. Of course
that went without saying. And I told her the truth. "I wasn't
born good. I worked my *ass *off to get this good. Of course,
working is a complete foreign concept to you."

"Some of us have *other *priorities," she sneered. "Like *guys*.
Oh, I forgot--you don't know anything about making time for guys,
do you?"

Oh, fuck, did I want to hit her right then. I wanted to pound my
fist into her face and shatter those oh-so-perfect cheekbones.
But I didn't. "You know, Jenna, if you're having trouble keeping
up with your social obligations, there's an easy solution. I
mean, practices and games take up so much time. If you quit the
team, you'd have so much more time for guys."

"Oh, I have plenty of time for guys," she sneered. "And I'm here
for every practice."

"You need more than that."

"If I cared that much. Listen, Amber, soccer isn't life-and-death
to me. *Some *people may have no other life, but I can't help
that. You want to spend all your high school years on this soccer
field, be my guest. Then again, what else do *you* have to live
for?"

I think that I just might have slugged her that time--but Alice,
the coach, chose that moment to make her presence known. "That's
enough," she spat.

"Jenna, I have to say, I don't like what I just heard," she
continued. "You've just stated your complete lack of commitment
to this team. I've tried to work with you--but Amber's right.
You've made it plain you don't want to work. So, I'm making a
change. Kendra, I'm moving you up to forward. Taylor, you're
starting on the right side of midfield. Jenna, you're on the
bench. I have too many players that *want* to work. You don't."

Afterwards, Alice came up to me and said, "Now that's the way to
handle things."

-------

Would that it made a difference in the rest of my life. It
didn't. Not even a little bit. Becaue Jenna, of course, put the
spin on. I humiliated her and that's why she's not starting, blah
blah blah. None of it could possibly be *her* fault.

And, I have to admit it--what she said got to me, dammit. Not
that I put that much emphasis on soccer. I did, and didn't have a
problem doing so. No, it was the taunting about guys. It really
got to me.

I mean, shit. Was that what I had to do? To become phony and fake
and manipulative? Is that what I had to do to get a guy? Jesus. I
wasn't a bad person. Really, I wasn't. And, Jesus, all I *really*
wanted to go was get laid. I had a pussy, didn't I? I wasn't the
most beautiful girl in school, but I was *decent*. I wasn't ugly.
And I was shunned like some redheaded bastard stepchild.

In the days after that last confrontation with Jenna, it all came
down on my head. It just got all so depressing. The shunning, the
whispering, the complete lack of positive attention from guys. I
ended up going home a couple of times crying. I did *not* cry,
dammit!

And I had nobody to talk to. My parents were well-meaning, but
oftentimes clueless. My two best supposed friends were giving me
the cold shoulder. I'd started a nice frienship with Jordan--but
the key word in that sentence was "started". I didn't know Jordan
well enough to dump all my shit on her. There was Tiffany, but
she had enough on her own plate.

Not for the first time in the last year and a half, I missed
Lily. My big sister. She was out in California, at USC. There was
someone I could talk to. So, I called her on the phone. It wasn't
quite the same, but at least I could talk to her. And she said
what she always says--don't take any shit, stick to your guns,
things will work out. It was a good pep talk.

Of course, it was also easy for her to say--she had Mike, her
boyfriend. Which meant, not only could she get laid anytime she
wanted, she also had someone to lean on. Mike and Lily were true
soulmates. Yes, I was jealous! But in a good way--I loved them
both. I just wanted to find my *own* Mike.

Or, at the least, get laid.

------

The last week in October, I hit rock-bottom.

School was bad enough. I'd walk down the hall and get taunted. It
was worse if any of them ever saw me near the pods. "What are you
doing here, Amber? You certainly don't think you're going to get
anyone to go *in* there with you, do you?" Jenna taunted me one
day. And I was just walking by!

The few friends I had tried to buck me up. Jordan and Tiffany
most especially. One of Jenna's pals was teasing me once about
`not even being able to get kissed' when Tiffany walked up to me
and laid a good one on me. Made everybody else gasp. I really
appreciated it. "I'll gladly go in the pods with you, I'm still
bi," she told me once that week. I turned her down only because
of the confusion I felt about Rosa. Being with a guy was one
thing--being with another girl was a completely different kettle
of fish. Tiff understood. But I really did appreciate the offer.

But, except for a few brief rays of sunshine like Tiff and
Jordan, everything sucked. Even on the soccer field. We had a
game, and it was the worst game of soccer I've ever played in my
life. And by a lot. I was just horrendous. I couldn't have played
a worse game if I tried.

I was distracted. I was tired. I was sick of trying to be the
captain of a team on which half the players hated me. I was tired
of sticking to my guns and watching it all collapse in my face.
For the first time since I'd started playing it, I wanted soccer
to go away. It's not that I wasn't trying. It's that I didn't
have the energy. Soccer had become a source of misery, instead of
the solace it had always been. I wasn't happy, and it affected my
play.

Of course, when I got back into the locker room, I heard about
it. Not from Jenna herself, of course--she'd already gotten
herself in hot water. No, this came from Deb Davidson, our
starting stopper on defense and one of Jenna's pals.

"Nice game, Amber," she snorted as I walked into the locker room.
I didn't say anything. She kept it up. "Well, look at this--the
almighty Amber Woodard, God's gift to soccer, has a shitty game
and can't handle it!" I just let her prattle on. I couldn't deal
with it. Let her think what she wanted--she was no Pele on the
field herself. Even at half-speed, I was better than Deb. I just
didn't care what she thought. Well, normally I wouldn't care what
she thought--but things were just starting to get to me. I
couldn't do this anymore.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she demanded.

I didn't. I just walked past her into Alice's office. "Oh, there
you go, go tattle to the coach!" she shouted after me. "What a
wuss."

I ignored her. Well, I pretended to. I just couldn't deal.
"Alice?" I said.

"Come in, Amber. Something on your mind?"

"I'm resigning my captaincy. Effective now." And I turned to
leave.

"WAIT!" she yelled. "Amber, get *back* here! Don't you think we
should discuss this?"

"What's to discuss?"

"Amber, I think this is a mistake," she said. "I really wish
you'd think about it."

I took a deep breath. "I have thought about it. I've though about
it a lot. Alice, I am perilously close to quitting soccer
altogether. Resigning the captaincy of a team where half the
players hate my guts is a no-brainer."

Poor Alice--I shocked her into complete silence with that
declaration. Before she got her wits about her, I walked out of
her office. I sat down at my locker, and started pulling my
uniform off, trying to ignore every other person in the room.

Alice came out of her office, and looked at me. I didn't even
look up at her. She sighed. "OK, girls, gather round. We need to
have a little meeting." She took another breath, and tried to
look at me again. No, Alice, I thought, I'm not going to change
my mind. "Folks, we need to elect a new captain to join Bree.
Amber's given up her captaincy."

The gasps went around the room. I refused to look up. I didn't
want to look at any of them--especially those that were, no
doubt, pleased. I didn't have to--Deb opened her damn mouth
again. "What's the matter, Amber, not up to being our fearless
leader? Can't take the pressure, huh, Amber?"

"That will be *enough*!" Alice blasted. That shut Deb up, but I
didn't care.

I just could *not* take any more. I wanted to cry, and I was not
going to cry in front of the team. I couldn't. I got up off the
bench and grabbed my stuff, trying not to look at anyone. I
turned to Alice and said, "My vote goes to Jordan." Then I got
the hell out of there.

-------------

Jordan called me that night. She wasn't elected captain--Torie
Dallas was. That was fine. Torie was an `above the fray' type who
didn't get caught up in all the bullshit. She was probably a good
choice, if only for temperament. She was still learning how to
*play*, but she worked hard and was getting better, and got along
with just about everybody. I knew Jordan wouldn't win--she
wouldn't get votes from the anti-Amber faction, because of her
friendship with me. Torie was a good compromise.

Then, Jordan dropped another bombshell on me. "I hate to tell you
this, but I figured you'd be better off hearing it from me."

"OK, shoot," I said.

"Rosa told me about a halloween party she's having. Actually, her
friend Tanya's having it at her house, but she and Rosa are
throwing it together. I was told I was invited. I was also told
not to let *you* know anything about it."

"Jesus. What did you say?"

"I told Rosa not to expect me. I also told her it was a rotten
thing she was doing, and if she expected me to not let you *know*
you were being back-stabbed, she was crazy."

"Thanks, Jordan. What did she say to that?"

"Oh, she got all upset. Said she couldn't invite you, Tan said
that if you came nobody else would."

"That didn't use to matter to them. We could have fun with just
the three of us."

"Ah," Jordan said. "Well, you know, it's Tan, I think. It's that
whole Connor Enfield thing. Listen, Connor's a good guy, but he
hangs around with the Beautiful People--and I think it's gone
straight to Tanya's head. And I know, because Rosa told me, that
she and Tan have been best friends long before either of them met
you."

"Which is true," I confirmed. "But, still. Jesus. Jordan, there
are times I just want to give up."

"Give up?"

"Quit the team, quit everything--honestly, I've considered
transferring to Westport High."

"Amber, you *wouldn't*!"

"I don't know. Naked High's not working out for me, not like I
expected, not at all."

"Amber." Jordan took a deep breath. "I hope this doesn't offend
you, but--well, you never struck me as someone who was a
quitter."

"I never thought of myself as one, either. But quitting seems
awfully appealing right now."

"Just think about it."

"I will, believe me. But if things don't get better, I don't know
what I'm going to do."

----------

The next day was just torture. People were pointing and staring
all through school. Jenna and Deb and some of their friends
passed by me laughing. And practice?

I think it's the first time I've ever been on a soccer field that
I didn't say a word. Not a fucking word. I just played my
position and kept my mouth shut. No communication, no direction,
nothing. They don't like what I have to say? Fine, then I won't
talk. I wasn't the captain anymore, anyway.

Afterwards, Rosa came up to me. "Amber, can we talk?"

"I don't see why," I snorted.

"Jordan told you. She said she was going to." I nodded. "Listen,
Tan and I talked about this. We *couldn't* invite you. If we
invited you, the three of us would be the only ones at the party.
I'm sorry, but nobody else would come if you were there."

"You know, there was a time when that wouldn't have mattered to
you!" I burst out. "The three of us was enough! But now Tan's
gotten sucked up into the popular clique, and she pulls you right
along with her."

"Amber, try to see this from our point of view."

"WHAT?" I lost it then. "Your point of view? How about *mine*? Do
you have any fucking idea how much this hurts? Do you know how
many times in the past month I've cried myself to sleep? All over
a waste of space like Jenna Zambrano? My life has completely
fucking fallen apart and you want me to see it from *your* point
of view? I thought we were friends. Fuck that, I thought we were
*more* than friends. The shit I get from the rest of the school
is bad enough. But you--you have completely betrayed me. I hope
you can sleep at night. Because I'm having trouble." With that, I
walked away, leaving her staring at me, dumbfounded.

-------

Classes were better, but only a little. I did have some support,
much to my surprise. One guy who came up to me after class was
this guy named Aaron Bielinsky. Everyone called him Moose. I knew
he had become friends with my journal partner Joe Benson.
However, otherwise he was quiet and shy and had never said two
words to me.

He was in a couple of my classes, including History, my last
class of the day. Right after all of this shit happened, he came
up behind me on the way out of history and said, "Hey, Amber.
Don't let the jerks get you down." And then he kept walking. It
was actually really nice of him to do.

Another one was Stacia Averbuk, the chubby girl I'd met the first
day. Now, I've watched, and seen that she had her own problems.
But that didn't stop her from walking up to me on the way into
Geometry class and saying, "Hey. I think what's being done to you
is awful. But I know how it goes, so if you need to vent, I'm
available."

Surprised, I thanked her. She just waved it off. But two periods
later, at lunch, I waved her over to sit with Tiffany, Jordan,
and I. She was very grateful, and I was glad to have her. Hey, we
outcasts had to stick together.

Stacia was in my Biology class, which was right after lunch, my
second-to-last class of the day. That was an interesting class.
Not just for good reasons, because Jenna and her buddy Deb were
in it--as were Rosa and Tanya, who I obviously wasn't too happy
with. But Stacia was in that class, as was Tiffany.

Ms. T had made some comment about being fondled. You know, in
your private parts. This was part of the sex-ed component of
Biology--in this school, a big component. And Jenna made some
kind of comment about, "Well, don't ask Amber, she wouldn't know
anything about being fondled." The little group of them all
giggled at that--including Rosa, who knew better.

Before Ms. T could reprimand them, Tiffany did it for her. "Oh,
Amber certainly knows what it's like to be masturbated. Believe
me. And she was only 11, which is probably more than any of you
can say. And I'm probably better than any boy *you've* ever had!"

The class giggled, and I decided to get my own dig in. "Yeah, and
I don't know why the hell Rosa's laughing it up with the rest of
you over there. She really should know better--since we've been
lovers for two years." Rosa turned bright red, as Jenna and Deb
looked at her in disbelief. Score one for me!

"Amber, are you a lesbian?" Ms. T. asked. "I should know these
things for when we get into future lessons."

"No, Ms. T., I'm bi," I said. "I like girls, but I like boys
too." I looked right at Zach Provost, one of the `shy guys' in
school. "In fact, I *looooove* boys." That cracked everyone up,
except for my little knot of detractors, but who cared? It got
the rest of the class laughing with me, which was nice. And Zach
blushed bright red. It was very cute. But I smiled at him to let
him know I was just playing with him, and he smiled back. He
really was cute. If I decided to pull a Jordan and take a shy guy
into the pods, Zach might be a fine choice.

There were other amusing things that happened in Biology, too.
Two of the kids in that class were Trina Christopher and Dylan
Lashko. Now, my sister Lily went to school with their older
siblings--Ty Christopher and Emma Lashko. Ty and Emma had been
going out since Sophomore year in high school. Since they were
sophomores in college now, that was four years--and they were
plainly headed to the altar. Ty had played baseball with Lily--he
was a power-hitting first baseman--and Lily knew them well. So, I
had met them quite a few times. They were both good people, and
very much in love.

So, I'd also known Trina and Dylan, since they'd been in school
with me since I moved here. And the amusing part--for anyone that
knew Ty and Emma--was that Trina and Dylan *hated* one another. I
mean, absolute complete loathing. It really was funny if you knew
that someday they were going to be related.

So, one day heading into Biology, they walked in just *screaming*
at one another. I don't even know what it was about--those two
don't really need a reason--they were just hurling insults at
this point. Rosa--who, of course, also knew the backstory through
her brother Frankie--walked up behind them while they were
yelling. She grinned, and said, "You know, I can't wait until Ty
and Emma get married. You two are going to have a brawl going
down the aisle!" I had to laugh. Dylan and Trina looked
chagrined, and stopped yelling.

Another class that could be fun was cooking.

Now, the way the classes at Naked High were scheduled for
freshmen were pretty rigid. Electives, the bulk of them, would
come in later years. There were only seven class periods. Five of
them were reserved for required full-week classes: Biology,
English, Geometry, Ancient History, and a language. (The school
offered Spanish, French, Russian, German, and Japanese. I took
Spanish.)

The other two class periods each had a required MWF class: gym
for one, and computers for the other. Now, for the TTh part of
the week, there was some choice. In the gym period, you could
take art or music. In the computers period, you could take
audio/visual, or cooking. Now, most guys in that period took AV,
and most girls took cooking. Gender roles still ruled--but not
completely. Honestly, I took cooking because I was *good* at
electronic stuff but not a good cook at all. When I was still
friends with Rosa and Tan--who were in that class--some of my
feeble attempts got me some good-natured razzing. Two months into
the school year, though, and I *was* getting better.

There was one guy in that class--the aforementioned Moose
Bielinski. As I've said, Moose was quiet and shy--but wasn't at
all self-conscious about being the only guy in a cooking class.
Our teacher, Mrs. Paulson, asked him about it at the beginning of
the year. And, he said, "Hey, guys cook. A lot of guys end up
living on their own, right? My Dad told me that before he met my
Mom, he lived on rice for two years, because he couldn't cook
anything else. Either that or he went broke at the Burger Hut.
I'd rather learn how to cook." Everyone thought that was a cool
answer.

Anyhow, Mrs. Paulson teamed us up a lot for various projects. At
the end of October, she paired Moose and I up to bake a cake.
Moose was actually a better cook than I was at this point, so I
let him lead. Actually, I had to prod him into leading--he really
was quite shy. But it was going well--until I learned something
about Moose.

He's clumsy. *Really* clumsy. It was a bowl of flour. He knocked
it over, and it went all over the place. I mean, *all* over the
place--the table, him, me. Our whole little area, including the
two of us, was covered in flour. I wanted to laugh, but didn't
want to insult him.

That's when I found out something else about Moose--what came to
be known around school as the Polish Joke. "I am so Polish," he
blurted, looking at the flour everywhere. "What a completely
Polish thing to do." Then he looked at me. "I'll have to get you
a tee shirt made up. `The clumsy Polish guy spilled flour all
over me. Pity me.'" Then he started singing--wildly off-key--a
bastardized version of an old country song: "Mamas, don't let
your babies grow up to be Polish." It was hilarious. I was
laughing so hard I got flour up my nose.

Now, my best friend back in Boston, where I lived up until sixth
grade, was Polish--so I knew a little about Polish food. So,
after I'd stopped laughing, I looked at Moose and said, "Jeez,
Moose, what are we ever going to do if she has us make kapusta?
That would be an overload of Polishness, wouldn't it? I can see
it now. Cabbage in the air vents, all over my boobs, up your
nose...." He blinked, and then roared. He didn't stop laughing
for five minutes. After class, he walked up to me and said,
"Kapusta. That was *perfect*. Thanks for the belly-laugh."

So, there was hope. It wasn't perfect, but if I could make a nice
guy like Moose crack up, there was hope. I just had to hope the
Jenna shit died down sometime soon.

---------------

I spent Halloween at home. Luckily, Jordan and Tiffany joined me.
We gave candy out to the little kids, giggled with one another,
ate too much chocolate. At least I had some friends.

The next day, November 1st, I had to meet with Joe to swap
journals. November 1st was actually a Saturday, so I went over to
his house. Though I was happy to see Maggie and get to say hi to
her, otherwise I was not looking forward to this. Joe's best
friend was Patrick Drouin--and Patrick was one of the ones who
was regularly dipping his wick into Jenna Zambrano. I figured
Patrick had already poisoned Joe towards me. This wasn't going to
be fun at all, I figured.

I was surprised. I was very pleasantly surprised. 

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