Shaelan and the Shrew

((Masterpost Here))

Shaelan and the Shrew

A story by Suzanne Helen James

" An hour after having entered the bar and had a good share of drinks to make her forget about the shitty day she had, Viola bumped into someone's backside. She was drunk enough that the blow actually made her wobble backwards. “Whoa there!” Viola heard as she was caught by the arm and then brought back to her feet. Her fingers gripped the arms that steadied her and she grumbled. “Who the fuck are you to help me?” She muttered at her rescuer, who stiffled a soft giggle which irritated the girl further. In response to the giggle, Viola attempted to kick the other person, only to trip forward on her heels. “Whoa there missy, you best be careful!” She then heard as her rescuer, female with a sharp irish accent, tugged Viola's arms to and held her by the waist, forcing Viola to collide against the stranger's chest with a soft thud. “Alrighty then”, she then said, “Time for you to go on home cause you've had a few too much drinks.”

But then as Viola was lead outside, the drunken woman suddenly elbowed her assistant in the stomach. “That's for fucking ordering me around” she muttered as her attack made the Irish woman recoil and release her grip on Viola's arm. “I can walk my own self home thank you very much” Viola huffed and raised her arm to wave at an incoming cab. When the cab sped by her, she gasped and growled. “YOU FUCKING SHIT!” The girl yelled and was about to run after the taxi when she was again tugged from behind and this time fell down in a puddle. Aghast at her soggy clothes and wet state, Viola turned her head to glare at the Irish woman, who looked at her with raised eyebrows and arms crossed as she failed to save Viola from falling.

“That's what you get for not listening to me,” The Irish-sounding girl said before sighing and sitting down next to her pouting companion. Viola turned away from her and huddled her knees to her hips. The other woman rolled her eyes at her actions and smirked. “Shut the fuck up and don't you dare laugh”, the other woman faintly heard as she covered her mouth and looked at the clearing night sky. A few minutes passed as the two didn't say nor move anything...until the Irish woman got up and stretched her arms.

“Well then,” she said expectantly, “Aren't we gonna get you another cab and get you on home then?”

A grumpy Viola responded by snorting under her breath.“You know what the fuck you can do?” She began, ”Why don't you fucking drive me home? Since you're the only one who's giving an apparent fuck about my well-being for some reason, why don't you just be the one to get it done.” While Viola's crude words visibly stung the Irish woman, she nonetheless sighed and shrugged before replying with “Alrighty then if that's what you want!” and tugged a grumbling Viola to her feet as they walked and stumbled to her vehicle."

Those greedy little eyes

((Masterpost here))

"Those greedy little green eyes"

A short story by Suzanne Helen James

My eyes looked down at the cradle as I watched him sleep. For the 14th time that night, a frown crossed my face, expressing the bitterness that was as sour as ugly green gummy worms. Gripping the handles on the white cradle, I narrowed my eyes and took another heated glare at my new little brother. Jeremiah was his name, but everybody shortened it to Jeremy.

I'd rather call him Germs. Or Goblin even.

Mommy and Daddy had brought him home less than 6 months ago, when Mommy had to go to the hospital. She stayed there while Daddy went to visit her every day. I stayed at home with Lynda, my babysitter. She had been hired because Mommy and Daddy had called her a “cheap easy.” I didn't know what it meant, but I did know that I didn't really like her very much.

As a big “big” kid (a teenager), Lynda was always talking about her “boyfriend”, her “hell of a life” and how she wished she was anywhere but here. When she was really mad, sometimes she would use big words. But she wasn't always like that. On the days when she felt in a good mood, Lynda would talk about her boyfriend and actually try and take care of things around the house, including me. On days when she was in a bad mood, well then Lynda didn't like anyone; she didn’t like her boyfriend, and even worse, Lynda would be mad at everything I did and not like me at all.

Unfortunately, I ended up picking a bad day for Lynda when I had asked why Mommy had been in the hospital for so long. Lynda, who was yelling on the phone, suddenly turned to me and said, “Well she's obviously gone cause she's having a baby, twerp! Now scram, Sam and I are talking!”

Later that day when I asked again, Lynda was still in such in a bad mood that this time she used big kid words, like “pregnant”, and “labor” and stuff…and didn’t even explain anything to me! Since I didn't know what they meant, I waited for Daddy and asked him when he got back home. When he told me what they all meant…

I was shocked. My jaw dropped. “Mommy was gonna have a baby?” I said slowly. Mommy was going to have a baby? Soon? Another little kid like me? I was excited! This was gonna be like having a little mini-me around! Someone to play with! Someone to blame things on when I'd really done it! Someone I'd protect from the dangers of girl cooties!

...Though if it's a baby girl, I could teach her how not to get cooties.

It would be months after that before I finally heard those footsteps from downstairs.”Guess who?” I heard as Mommy and Daddy came in the doorway. I bounced down the stairs and ran towards my new sibling. When Mommy had knelt to my level, the wide grin on my face had shrunk to a small frown. I swallowed slowly and squinted as I saw the little baby, wrapped in a red blanket. What was this? Who was this? Thin red stripes on his face for eyebrows, a teeny-tiny nose...and a small closed mouth. Was this the little brother that I was supposed to play with? Was this the little brother I was supposed to blame things on? He was so small. He looked so fragile. He looked like a soft, frail little doll. Ugh. I blinked and raised a dusty hand to touch him and instantly flinched. Mommy and Daddy giggled as he awoke to my touch. It was when he opened his eyes that I saw the softest shade of green ever. It was so bright, so...pretty and...shiny.

I don't know why but my eyes narrowed and my frown deepened. Without warning, I turned around and ran away to my room, leaving Mommy and Daddy confused. When I reached my room, I slammed the door and dove under the bed covers. Staring into the darkness, I laid on my stomach.

"Son?" I then heard from outside. Daddy was outside my doorstep, trying to understand what had happened earlier. Another knock followed. "Son? What happened down there? Are we feeling a little shy about meeting our little baby brother? Aww, that's alright...really! It's fine, you know. We're all feeling a bit shy in our first time, too..."

Yes, that's what my problem is. After a long silence, Daddy finally gave up. "Well...alright then, mister. Feel free to give yourself a time out until you've felt you're ready to face him. But honestly? You might've startled him when you woke him up, but I swear that those pretty greens of his were so happy to see you!" Ending with a chuckle, Daddy left me to my brooding. When left alone, I growled madly. I clutched at my bedsheets, making my fists burning with heat. I started to shake and hit the mattress. I slammed my head on the bed back and forth until I was starting to get dizzy and my forehead was getting sore.

And then a tear leaked down from my eye. I bit my lip and shut my eyes. I didn't want to cry, but...

"ooogh!!" I muttered in frustration and rubbed my eyes. The tears didn't stop flowing. I shook, squirmed and growled as my mind conjured up that baby's face. Those striking little green orbs. Staring at me so blankly...it irritated me. It made me mad. It made me cry.

Those green eyes stirred something in me. I didn't know what it was, but I knew that my little brother was going to take something away from me. Those green eyes of his told me so. And I don't know why, but I knew that I would hate him for it. I would never forgive him for watching me so innocently with those eyes of his.

At first it was his cries, invading my ears from far upstairs or on the living room radio. Mommy or Daddy would apologize and leave me by myself while they sped up to his room. But that's not what I wanted. Little did they know how much their apologies meant nothing to me, but instead I would rather have it if Germs wouldn't even be here, at their beck and call.

Then, it was his smell. Mommy and Daddy would laugh and joke and fill the air with his dirty diapers as they changed him. The smell of his poop and the weird smell of the diaper perfume wasn't pretty. But Mommy and Daddy would never notice my tongues at his direction, my grimaces or my disgust. No, I was too grown-up for that. And I was smiling too much.

But one day I decided that was this was enough. The green-eyed little monster had gotten

its time. I started going to school. I started to write, spell things, number things and draw pretty pictures. I was using all the tricks in the book. Even Lynda liked it and praised me. But when I started to fight for Mommy's attention, nothing worked. "Oh! Honey, did you draw that? That's a good- Awww, look at that, Jeremy's got a little thing up here..."

And what I drew was actually quite good.

When I fought for Daddy's attention, not even grabbing my own milk and cookies by myself had even gotten a glimpse of attention from him. "Hoh hoh! Someone's been a good boy!" I remembered, "I'm so proud of you! That's a-Jeremyyy! You little spiller! How could you do that?" When Daddy returned his attention to Goober, I remember not staying too long in order to avoid staring at those eyes. Those greedy little green eyes.

It would be a little longer after that that I would realize that I was too late..but I knew what was going to happen the minute I had stared into his eyes. I wouldn't stop trying though. I couldn't lose to that little Goober...I just didn't want to be stopped by those eyes.

It wouldn't be long before Mommy and Daddy would completely forget about me.

Line of consequence

((Masterpost here))

Line of consequence

Author- Suzanne Helen James

Rating- T

Genre- Sci-fi, drama, mystery

“So...why exactly have you asked us here, doctor Rothernathy?” came the quirky, monotonous and squeaky question, hiding no sense of positive emotion in the tone of their voices. The two voices seemed identical in their poses, and their facial expressions were perfectly robotic. The only thing that seemed to function properly was the miniscule things, the small details and quirks that couldn’t be noticed unless you were able to take a really good look at their mannerisms. On the right, where the mother was sitting, her left hand, hidden under her right, was quietly drumming a repeated beat. Her two forefingers rose up and down and quickened their pace as the tension increased around them. On the left, where the father was sitting down, his left leg, crossed over the other, was thumping in a similar fashion. Except that it seemed much more obvious that he showed more vulnerability than the mother had.

Either way, something was definitely feeding the ominous silence that had hung around the room for the last twenty minutes.

Looking shortly away from her papers, Doctor Clarissa Rothernathy removed her reading glasses halfway through her nose and glanced at her clients. Though her eyes reflected no worry or sign that anything was wrong, it was just a normal facade that she had learned to master over the years. In truth, she sympathized with the daughter and wished the best for her. Really did. But with her latest predicament, Clarissa wasn’t sure how exactly would the all-mighty patriarch and matriarch handle their child’s new turn of events. But then again, it was normal for them to react as they would. However, with this new rising society’s new topsy-turvy outlook, things were bound to go off the wire eventually. After all, things you thought you knew, it turned out they were wrong.  And people you thought you knew, in the end, it looked like you didn’t either. It seemed that everyone was merging into symbiosis, and few were really able to define their own identity anymore.  Shrugging off the distant thoughts from her mind, the red-head finally raised her head and decided to take a good look at the authorities in the eye. As clear and coloured eyes stared back into stagnant and gray ones, Clarissa clasped her hands together. Her fiery eyebrows furrowed down on her eyelids, making the effects of a serious, stern and utterly intense look. Though hers of course, held much more life than theirs ever would’ve.

After all, they do say that it’s all in the eyes, wasn’t it?

Before trying to diminish the ongoing silence brought on her part, Clarissa was in the midst of deciding if exactly the parents were ready to face the truth. And by the way it was looking, if their own daughter had convinced her own psychiatrist to tell her parents the news, then the least Clarissa was to do is to make them see what exactly they would be facing in the coming future. Clarissa had been known often for giving people all sorts of hidden tests in her evaluations or her many meetings, and unbeknownst to the parents, this wasn’t an exception. It may have been a different case but it still required the similar methods nonetheless. Looking up at the parents as she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, Clarissa then made magic of her face and her with the blink of an eye, her face softened and her expression turned into something a little more lighter. She was at her best when she smiled anyway.

“Now Mr. and Mrs. Odonell,” she addressed casually before pausing, “...Despite her introverted moments, Julie-Ann was mostly always active and on her feet, wasn’t she?” At what was disguised to be a simple question, the parents both nodded in response. A short silence resumed again before the mother’s hand was raised slightly, making Clarissa fan her hand downwards in approval of a potential question.

“...However doctor,” she paused and drew the raised hand to her lip,”...I do have to say that in recent years, in fact ever since we had even moved here, Julie-Ann has been showing a bit more of her introverted side, as you’ve seen of course.”

Giving another acknowledging nod, Clarissa folded her lips into a pensive frown; though it might’ve looked a bit exaggerated with her eyes half-lidded this time around. The red-head was now smiling a bit more eagerly, and it looked very much that not only was she keeping something from the couple, but it was looking as if she was enjoying herself at watching them think so fruitlessly.

Yes, it looked like she was really having her way with the unsuspecting couple.

After another short-lived silence where all parties were to come up with an answer, it was once again time for the main person to speak her mind.”...Has this introverted side of your daughter exceptionally affected your daughter in any way before this? Or perhaps, have you noticed any introverted moments when she’s around people she’s familiar with? When she’s with boys, how is she acting than when compared with girls?” Again, Clarissa still held her mischievous face, complete with her thumbs dwindling on her chin. The fact that she was asking all these questions was all part of the test. These small hints were all part of the puzzle. Looking at the pair’s eyes, Clarissa knew she had seen a short flicker of light when they had blinked at her question. Perfect. They were getting closer to seeing the truth. The pieces of the puzzle were all getting together. It may not be a pretty picture when they put two and two together, but at least they would’ve been confronted to the truth.

Chuckling as she watched the confused parents consulting themselves for advice, the young woman just felt like laughing. Really, really hard.

Oh, she would definitely get some good champagne tonight.

A rainy morning 4 years in the making

((Here on the Masterpost))

A Rainy morning 4 years in the Making

A story by Suzanne Helen James

...It was a rainy morning. A rainy monday morning. It was now 5 am. Of course, the time had been passing by, but I knew I couldn't stop now. Nope, I wasn't allowed to stop myself here.

If that were to happen, I don't think i could've ever forgiven myself. After all, I only had a few lines left in the manuscript. It wasn't going to be that hard. I was going non-stop for the past 5 hours since about last night. Again, my procrastination had gotten the best of me and here I was, typing and slaving away at a computer when in normal circumstances, I should've been asleep. Recuperating on my loss of energy. But instead, I was far from sleepy. I was half-asleep, with the dim lit of my lamp above me. My bed of course, is quite messy and I haven't really moved from it since 11pm. Or probably less.

Or at least, that's what I would've though, if the phone hadn't rang. Now, usually when I'm like this and the phone does ring, the natural thing to do would be to leave the ringing be and let the message go to my voicemail. That's what I wanted. But then, I only heard one ring and it wasn't constant. So, for some reason, I looked away from my laptop screen and looked towards my living room, illuminated with the flickering lampost I forgot to turn off. My gaze was fixed on the nondescript sight, the ringing buzzing in my ears. With a single blink, I rise from my bed and widen my bedroom door to get a full view on my living room. The empty room was a bit cluttered with bits and pieces of cans and clothes here and there. The couch though, was occupied; I think it was somdeone I might've recognized. I frowned a little and scratched my head. I should really start to clean up sometime soon. Hearing the ringing again brough my attention back to the phone. I picked up the receiver and then dialed 9. Without another thought, I then unlocked my door and walked out the hallway. Thank goodness that no one was awake in the morning to see a skinny black girl in an old spaghetti-strap tank and short shorts looking like she had just gotten run over.

Though you might as well say I had, because that's what I felt like.

Ignoring the thought of the elevator, I then take the stairs until I finally reach the main floor. Note that I was also barefoot. And even though the janitor made sure that no debris, grime, dust or anything remotely disgusting strayed on his floors, I knew that his work would all be in vain. Feeling my face contract from a frown to a more agressive scowl, I groan and bide my time, trying to ignore the light squishing sounds I feel under my delicate feet. This also reminded me that I was in serious need of pedicure in the very near future. Muttering to myself at my lack of hygiene, I reach the door and push the handle open when I see her face.

And then, my world freezes.

She was drenched. Freezing, most likely. Her brown eyes reflected the color of bleak, black mud. Her hair was plastered to her face and her heck with wetness. And crap, oh crap, she just looked like she was going to die. Or rather, she looked like she had just attempted to die and royally failed. As our eyes meet, my face isn't so menacing anymore. Infact, my expression softens when i see her. I looked at that familiar face, who apparently I couldn't bare to forget even though God knows I tried. I looked at her wrinkled blue coat, and then I just closed my eyes. Now I would have to remember this, too. Swallowing my saliva, I extend a hand towards her and she grabs it frantically. Throwing caution to the wind, I then wrapped my arms around her. I feel her cold, panting and I think I feel her crying.

Well, at least this shook up my morning. Realizing that it had been a while since we hugged out here in the freezing rain, I sugh and finally seperate from her. Without saying or doing much else, I still grab her hand as I walk back inside. In the elevator, I had the intention of letting go of her hand, but she doesn't at all. Infact, she holds onto my arm as in clinging onto it for dear life. Blinking at this unorthodox behaviour, I still don't say anything. And of course, neither does she. By the time, we reach my floor, I realize that I still hadn't exactly said anything to her. But then, it's not like she said anything to me. It was just like that with us. We were the kind of people who were very talkative yet very private and quiet all at once.

Although, with each other in question, it's more complicated than that.

Scrounging my key from my small pocket, i unlock it and with a strong swing of my taken arm and my free one, I throw her inside the apartment. Slamming the door shut, I lean against it, gawking at the grinning girl on the floor. Now this was the time to actually examine the situation. Though it was a situation that I was no so happy with. Even though it did seem that I did, with the hugging in the rain and all. As for her, she was now on the floor, legs crossed and gawking around the messy apartment. Usually at this time, something rude and random should've come out of her mouth.

At least it would've 4 years ago. But that was then. This is now. Things can happen in a little bit.

“Jennifer Sekiguchi,” I then say, the words rolling out of my mouth. When was the last time I had uttered that name in such...confusion? In such curiosity? And maybe, anguish...? Jennifer looks up at me with those eyes of her and smiles defeatedly. It's like she wanted to say, “Yes, yes, i know. It's me. The one and only Jennifer Sekiguchi. I never realy treated you like a friend very much, yet I still wanted to have you in my life. If I'm reaching out to you now, it's likely that I'm actually breaking down inside.”

...Or something of that vague description.

“You want anything?” I then ask as I scratch my head. Still smiling faintly, she nods and raises her hand at me. I pull her up and running a hand through a wet mop of jet black hair, I scoff and ruffle her hair. Giggling, she then took off her coat and handed it to me while I pointed to the couch and the person lying on it. “Don't use that; someone's probably recuperating.” “...Wow, Lilsters. You sure can party hardy.” This was coming from the girl who once “studied hard and partied hard.” All in good stride, I guess. Lilsters was her odd nickname for me. I never really considered giving her one, but once in a while that name would pop up and I would just shrug. Who was I to care what was in her head? All I was suppose to want was her health and her well-being.

“Well, I am in legal age to do so. No supervision, no limits but my own.”

Not adding much else to the conversation, I return to the living room, with two glasses of freshly-squeezed Orange juice. At this time of morning, alcohol is far from the solution. Especially you needed to calm down...from whatever it is that needs calming. Using the free and clean-looking couch, I then place the glasses on the glass table. I then take full account that she's still sopping wet and she'll catch even more of a cold if left in such damp conditions. Catching that too, the smirking Jennifer rose to her feet and placed a hand on her hip. “Where's the fabled bedroom?” She taunts. “I'd like to actually see what it looks like.” Rolling my eyes, I point behind her and she runs off towards it, taking off bits and pieces of her wet clothes along the way. As for me, I just snorted and slurped my OJ. It was quite juicy and fruity.

Thank you, Minute maid.

Coming out of my bedroom in a blanket, a sweater and some tights (of course, these are all MY clothes), Jennifer then returned to my side. Still smiling, she then draped the blanket on us. Yes, she was as giddy as ever. It was amazing how vunerable she had been only but probably 20 minutes ago. But then...I looked again. Under that sparkle in her eyes, there was something deeper there. With that bubbly, energetic voice, there was something deeper. I knew better than to fall for her happy trick. Again, note the emphasis on how she came to be at my doorstep; drenched, beaten down (emotionally) and weak. So for her to make a comeback was just amplifying the signal that she was just desperate for comforting and healing...and all that mumbo jumbo that in this case, actually seems to make sense.

So I might as well do my job and do it well.

“Cut the act, Jennifer. You came to me drenched, crying and hurt. Obviously something must've happened back home. I haven't seen you in 4 years and this isn't exactly a way to say hello.”

Eyes widening as I stabbed through her, she blinked and then flopped her head on the other side of the couch. Dead and center, but hey, she asked for it. I get a hug and bonding, I'd also like a full-on explanation for why she's back. Especially when I shouldn't want her back at all. A few minutes of silence reigns betyween us, but this time it's different.

I can actually tell that there will be a positive outcome out of this conversation.

Sighing, the Jennifer I remember from outside finally lets her guard down. She sighs and frowns befeore saying anything else. Snuggling under my blanket, she lays her head down on the armrest and closes her eyes.

“Well, if you wanna know where exactly to start from...first off, I came out to them.”

By them, she obviously meant the parents. I ndodded and gulped another mouthfull of Orange juice. “...I'm guessing they didn't take it our too well.” Naturally, the parents wouldn't take it off well, but it wasn't the time to dwell on that. She nodded and ran her head through her hair. I suddenly had an urge to do that again. Damn it.

But nonetheless, Jennifer continued on with her story.

“...At school, I fell for this girl. It was actually love at first sight. We were pretty tight...But then, I was kinda scared where she wanted to introduce to the parents.”

“...Uh huh. So? What does it matter? You love her, you meet the parents, end of discussion. Not so hard.”

Then again, I hadn't gone through that process in a little bit; my love life had dried up the last little while. Blame my budding writing career. And I suppose my growing lack of empathy for others. But...Jennifer was a different story once upon a time. It's weird how things end up.

“...But then, I was thinking about my own parents.”

“And what, you freaked out?”

Another silence as I again pierced her psyche. Goodness, it really was interesting to see how these things happen. I had once been in her position, and she had once been in mine. With the roles reversed, I say that this is one heck of a monday morning. A rainy one, but a monday morning nonetheless. Sighing, I then relax on the couch as well. All I was to do now was listen. After all, the few times we actually interacted without any negative repercussions was when either was down in the dumps, our friends were away and of course, our parents couldn't REALLY understand what exactly was going on. So that's when I suppose would be the last resort when she called me.

And now, it was exactly that moment again. Except with a different atmosphere, a different time and a different place.

“...Yeah,” she said, I freaked out big time. So...for the last year, I kinda dropped University altogether for now...”

“...And you've been out on your ass for the last little bit. Well, how's that feel, then?”

“...It feels...interesting.”

“...So then, why involve me into this? It seems to be more of a learning curve for you than anything.”

Her face then turned sour and confused aas she reflected on my answers. She must've thought that since I was once the hopeless dreamer, I was suppose to tell her thing to cheer her up. Well, that wasn't exactly the case anymore. Looking back on that, what I was doing 20 minutes ago was just acting out of age old impulses. Then again, 4 years wasn't that far of a stretch. Back in the present, Jennifer stayed silent. On my side on the couch, I sighed and shuffled my feet to the left to accomodate her a little. Accepting the invitation, she takes in the small space and I feel cool toes on my thighs. We had never really been this...I guess the word would've been close, but intimate seems to be more like it.

...Again, she and I are a complicated subject.

“...Well,” I then said, “...If you wanna bunk here, I suppose you're welcome to do so as long as you want. Just do your workload and we'll be fine.” By that time, Jennifer had fallen asleep. Muttering to myself, I sighed and grumbled. If I moved away, it would disturb her sleep and that just wouldn't be nice. Not to mention, she's not a heavy sleeper at first sight. And of course, my manuscript, still in the laptop...in my room.

Well, that was just more electricity for my bill. Oh, how nice indeed. Do note the frequent use of sarcasm here.

After that interesting morning, Jennifer had “officially” moved into my apartment. It was oddly convenient that my actual roomate had decided to move out the afternoon following Jennifer's sudden arrival. It was also eerie how everything seemed so calm, so...peaceful. So alright. When we talked, Jennifer was a bubbly, excited, lively human being, always asking questions about my current life. I, of course, was the polar opposite of that; grmupy, sarcastic and always on my guard. And the funny thing was...4 years ago, Jennifer had once been in my position and I had once been in hers.

People in my life came and went, but now Jennifer was part of that life. It was so strange how she easily slipped in and out of my apartment and her presence felt...good. It wasn't alarming, it was out of context, it was just...good. Warm. Amicable.

Again, note that she and I are people. And people do change. Even switch personalities if they want to.

From that rainy Monday onward, the rest of the week went on like this. The actual subject of why she was here, in my apartment, trying to be the perfect roomate, was never really brought up again. After all, despite our friendly demeanors towards each other after a 4-year hiatus was also something of a defense mechanism. Especially for Jennifer, who I knew better, but hadn't really said much.

It was on a Saturday afternoon. We had grown into the habit of sleeping in the afternoon and waking in the evening. However, this was an exception. I was the first one to awaken and by that time, Jennifer would still be in a deep sleep. Delicately moving my feet away from hers, I then rise to my feet on tip-toe. Before returning to my room, I then look back at her face. Her eyes closed, she looked different. Then it occured to me that I might've never sen Jennifer sleep. Ever. Though that was normal, we never invited each other over for sleepovers.

Though if we had sleepovers together, there wouldn't be a point to gawk at the sleeping face of another human being. Though...there would be reason to watch her face. Thinking back on it, I do exactly that. Dark eyes locked on her face as her chest breathes up and down. Her fingers trembles are she dreams.The look of peacefulness she has on her face.

It was then that I knew what the small things in a person was. Narrowing my eyes, I closed my eyes and moved away from the slumbering Jennifer. This was just another passing fancy. Though it had already happened once, no need for it to happen again. Shaking my head, I returned to my room to finish those last darned pages of that manuscript I promised.

...An hour later, an awoken Jennfier stumbles into my room, though I ignore her. By ignore, I meant don't look at her yet reply at her “Hello!” with another “Hello.” “So, what are ya doing?” she asks, flopping down on the floor next to me. Not even getting a glance at her, I keep my focus. “Short story column,” I said in a monotone manner. “Gotta finish it as quickly as possible.”

“...Can I help?”

“...Sorry, but I don't see how your help would be beneficial at this point. Besides, I'm almost done this part. Just a few pages more to go.”

“...I see. You're pretty set on focusing on your career, huh?”

“Yep. Writing is the goal for me.”

“...You were always so deadset on things. Chased it through the end.”

This conversation was again interesting because she was trying to drive it and I was most likely diverting away from it. Either way, I was still focused on the computer screen and not so much the distracting Jennifer. Glancing at the clock on the lower left corner of the screen, I tried to boost her morale. She could talk to me, just not gain my full attention.

Again, the reversal of roles was something fascinating for me.

“...So Jen...”

“Yeah?”

The Jen nickname wasn't something I used personally, but when I had used it, she seemed a lot happier...so I might as well, right?

“...Tell me more about your coming here. You seem to be more in a talkative mood, so you can explain to me more. But again, feel free to live and bed here, just as long as you do your own workload.”

Nodding as she understood, Jennifer then smirked and shrugged. “Well...the girl in question had been really cute. And really supportive, too. She was really adamant on me meeting her parents...and all that.”

“...Of course, of course. So then...what happened?”

“...As you know I bailed out!”

“And why was that?”

Another silence from Jennifer as she bit her lip. I shrugged and clicked and clacked on. If she really wanted it to, then she would tell me things at her own time. That was the way things were. It was a very efficient waiting game. Especially with her, beacuse she was a very impatient girl. Even 4 years down the road, she still had her tantrums. So then, I asked to spice up the conversation...

“Did you and Mikhail Sorovich get back together or something?”

Well, this was certainly a trick question because 4 years ago, Jennifer had taken an interest in the guy. 4 years ago, I had met Jennifer under different circumstances. And 4 years and 6 days later, after a bittersweet transition phase, here she was, drenched, shivering and crying. And in that same day, here we were again, trying to talk to each other without ripping our heads off.

Just like the good old days.

Well now I know that nothing's really changed. 4 years down the road and still some funny stuff. I know that this time, the converation might take a bad turn.

Scoffing lightly, Jennifer elbows the edge of the matress near my knee. “Well...I guess he and I still talk every once in a while. But no, we never did get back together...so he wasn't the reason.” I nod in understanding and continue on...

“...Jennifer...why did you really leave University?”

I knew that THAT question would be a glassbreaker because I knew better. I knew her better by now. I've always known. It was all going to come and bite her in the ass. She just expected it and ran in my direction so she could avoid it. Thus time, the silence had a different feel.

Oh well. If she didn't like it, she never had to bring it up.

“...You really wanna know?”

This was fun. I nodded and pressed on.

“...Yeah. I'm curious as to why one person would suddenly disrupt your entire future like that. I mean, come on now...you were in the same situation, yet she most likely continued on her education...and if you really loved her, you would've stayed. You would've stayed and not broken her heart. But...nope. Apparently, you're so screwed up that you ran away from it all; from her, from the parents, from yours...and you came to me. Not your friends. Not your exes. Me. And we're not much of friends to begin with-”

I would've finished my sentence , my Jennifer-bashing and might've gotten somewhere if I hadn't gotten pummeled to the matress by violent hands pushing me down on the bed. It was then that I saw them again. Those brown eyes burning through my own vision. My eyes widened as I was reflected in her eyes. Her fists grabbing the straps of my tank top and burning my shoulder with heat. My glasses flew over my head and landed on the floor and imediately, I felt another weight towering me. Okay, I guess now would be where she was thinking “Enough is enough.”

Although in Jennifer's mind, it would end up a little more complicated than that.

“You wanna know WHY I didn't go back?”

Obviously, the answer is yes.

“...I didn't go back there...because I was scared...” Yeah, we've gotten to that part more than a few times, “..I was scared that I wouldn't love her enough...and...and...damn it!”

“..And what?” I thought, “I suddenly popped into your mind?”

Well, wasn't this a turn of events. She was afraid of not loving her enough...was this because she was in love with someone else? Had she been in love with someone else all this time? If so...Then why hook up with that girl in the first place? Why ruin all your academic potential for one girl? Why run away from it all and abandon it all at a drop of a hat, for a grumpy, sarcastic struggling writer who just happened to be that girl you always used a last resort? If your friends are away and you need to shop, she asked me. If the parents were being assholes and disrepecting her private space, she whined to me.

...And in this case, if there was a girl that you've always loved but coudn't yourself to tell it to her face until now, well, Jennifer once again asked me. Not just because I was the girl in question.

I had been pretty stupid like that. Stupid to the point of ignoring why she really did what she did. Stupid of ignoring her emails all this time and trying to focus on my career. I thought I would've liked to have a future that wouldn't involve her. But that was pretty stupid too. Because it was Jennifer Sekiguchi we were talking about. The name came into my thoughts rather differently this time.

It wasn't filled with anguish. The curiosity was still there. The confusion was all but gone.

And note that this was before she dove down to kiss me.

The kiss itself was awkward and surprising. I felt her tongue invade my mouth, hungrily like it had been ages since she'd swapped spit with another human being. Though, it had only been...less than a month if Jennifer's story had any meaning to it. Well, it had been 6 years since this all began, but 4 years since we've actually parted. Of course in the six years, nothing had actually occured. It was all in subtetly. It was always like that with us.

Either way, this kiss must've been taken forever for her to muster. Who would've figured that it would've taken her until she was 21, a University dropout and on her knees to realize that she loved me?

Though it was too quick to jump back into this with the thought that this feeling might be love. I might've been kissing back because I needed some entertainment in my life. It just so happened that she had been the one spark in my life that who would always flicker. And well, she might've come to me because she needed to escape from parental pressures, find something else to satisfy her and stalk me. It was even worse that I easily complied with her little schemes. I couldn't been hard to find, but she found me.

Minutes later, we parted from our first kiss. “...Well, Jennifer...” I managed, “...Is there...something you want to tell me?” Then I saw it again, the flicker, the spark. It was hers. And then, she laughed. I hadn't heard a laugh like that in years.

...On that rainy monday morning, 4 years later, she found me.

And now what will happen the morning after the rain?

That's left for us to see.

The Cruellest of Midnight Ephiphanies

((Here on the Masterpost))

The cruellest of midnight epiphanies

(a.k.a. A freakin, shockin, S.M.A.C.K.!)

A one-shot written by Suzanne Helen James

Rating: T+ (mild language, innuendo)

Genre: comedy, satire, drama, aside, monologue

(Scene opens with Lillian sleeping on the couch, with her back facing the audience. Soon, mumbles are heard; they get louder and a name is more or less uttered. Lillian, in her moans, rolls off the couch and crashes on the floor. Now completely or at least, half-awake, Lillian groans and still on the floor, looks up towards the audience.)

Lillian: I think that God hates me. Despises me. He utterly abhors every fiber of this sinful being. Or, it could be worse; it could the devil who adores me. Who just loves to tug at my strings and laugh as I, his mindless puppet, dance for him, night after night after night…Although, this could also just be a figment of my imagination that the depths of my own crazy, twisted and perverted self has created in order to try and tell my sleeping subconscious something…me, Lillian Anderson. Me, a 2^nd year at Shaggington college…me, a very happy, very loving spouse of 3 years to my beloved Victor “Vicky” Wong…for the past 3 years!!! I mean, come on!!! I’m your “average Jane”, the laid-back kid who’s willing to go the extra mile to make YOU happy!! I’m your middle achiever, majoring in history, minoring in theatre!! I do the damn-dibbity best at what I’m good at!!!

So why is this happening to me? I mean ME? This shouldn’t be happening to me; normally, under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be happening to me. Thus, this is clearly not normal. This…dilemma, this… psycho-abnormality…this self-questioning phase isn’t common. Isn’t normal. This…problem, which has been festering and scrounging in my brain for the past month alone, is NOT socially normal…

At least, for people like me, mind you.

BY people like me, I do mean good-hearted, holy-devoted-to-our-lord-Jesus-and-God, happy and “normal”-type people; said good-hearted, holy-devoted-to-our-lord-Jesus-and-God, happy, peaceful and “normal” person wouldn’t even have the time of day to even ask themselves such a ridiculous question! (laughs) Why would they? They would normally be occupied at doing other things, much more important things...than to get preoccupied over a miniscule, tiddy, little, run-out-of-the-mill, average, silly, itty-bitty like this…(that somebody just had to ask outta the blue like that)

“Am I gay?”

And before any initial conclusion is drawn, the answer to that is easy, simple and again, very very simple; it’s no. So then one would naturally ask “why the question”? I seem to defend very eagerly that I am not of the same-sex persuasion, so I shouldn’t even be concerned about the question itself…I’ve been feeling great with Vicky for the past 3 years, so that should mean something! It’s hot! We’re hot! It’s intense! We’re intense! It’s cool…we’re cool! It’s awesome, we’re awesome!!

(slight pause as Lillian, having walked and rambled incessantly around the room, sighs and flops back into the couch.)

…Well, all things were going rather good until Jennifer Sekiguchi came back into my life. (bites her lip and takes a bottle from the table) I mean, we weren’t very close, we were…okay…Knew each other in high school, then drifted apart, blah blah blah…then, speak of the devil, she shows up last year! Here! At my post-secondary institution! And before you know, we’re good old girlfriends again! (laughs and swallows) Nothing wrong! Absolutely nothing! My heart wasn’t beating or anything, I wasn’t stealing short glances and I wasn’t thinking about her as much as I did now!

But then, the piece de resistance. Boys, keep your ears wide open for this one. Keep your hands outta your pants too while you’re at it.

Alright, so imagine this; it’s the weekend, we’re studying into the night. Sounds good so far. I’m helping her with a test, since I was in her class the year before. Again, nothing of importance. A few hours into studying, we’re plum-tuck tired; then Jenny dearest brings out a few “buzz bottles” to revitalize; I don’t drink them. At first…(swallows again and giggles slightly)

Then in the melee of it all, we had a…smooch? (No, no, not good.) Mashing of lips? (no, no, too juicy.) A small, passionate pucker? (Nah,. Nah, just won’t do.) (sighs and inhales deeply) Let’s just say we had a very, very, VERY brief make out session. Boys can cheer for that, cause nothing else happened after that, let me tell you right then and now!!!

(licks lips and smirks as she gulps last bit of drink) But lemme tell you that it WAS something special…(a slight pause as Lillian realizes her slip-up and groans, slamming the bottle down on the ground as the stage dims and Lillian leaves the stage.)

I'm mad, sad and all of a sudden fucking glad

((Here on the Masterpost))

I'm mad, sad and all of a sudden fucking glad

A story by Suzanne Helen James

Viola frowned and threw the piece of paper in the nearby garbage can. Fuck it, she muttered in frustration. It wasn’t perfect. It was far from perfect. The finesse just wasn’t there. The message she wanted to express couldn’t come out. “Prick.” She whispered, glaring at the white wall of her office. “You dumb son-of-a-bitch, pussy-whipped, motherfucking ass prick.” Clenching her fist, the young woman rose from her chair and kicked the garbage can to the floor. The can creaked and tipped over, leaving a large trail of crumbled paper with it.

Her eyes glared at the can. All of her failures were in that can. All of the day’s rejection letters were in that piece of trash. All of her poems, essays and drafts were lodged in there. But worst of all, with all the school work, were all of her conversations with that goddamned, egotistical, self-loathing fuck. There they were, the evidence of her biggest failure spilled out, in a flurry of printed white paper balls. Before long, Viola’s staring turned into wild, loud stomping. A series of creaks and grunts were soon heard as again and again her foot collided with the can. Eventually, it was reduced to a series of curves created by the shape of her sneaker. Swallowing, Viola closed her eyes. A tear soon streamed down the girl’s cheek. Viola shut her eyes as she tried not to cry. Was she really crying over something that can be easily fixed? That’s not right. It’s not the paper, the voice in her mind said. It’s something worse than that.

“How dare you fuck me over…” She whispered again, sniffling. How she hated being this vulnerable. Viola Miles was not a vulnerable human being. Viola Miles was not someone to ask for attention from others. No, rather, Viola Miles was someone who others relied on her.  No, not relied, worshipped. She was the undisputed Queen. Her friends adored her and if ever there was something wrong, she would be the one to come to for fixing. No one ever had the power to make her bend to their will, instead they bent to hers. No one had the audacity to turn her eye. Her pen ruled and as the voice of the school, her words lead the masses.

Who held such a power to make her so weak, angry and powerless?

It wasn’t her mother, though as demanding as she was. She was Viola’s heart. It wasn’t her career as the head journalist for the school. No, the job wasn’t taking its toll on her. It wasn’t her friends, her family or her personal activities. They were distractions. They entertained her, protected her and gave her a purpose. No, the reason for her heartbreak was because…

“Stupid…ass…bitch...!” She sobbed, giving the can another angry foot stomp.

It was all because of Charlie. The image of the androgynous blonde made Viola angrier and she gave another violent stomp, but this time to a stray paper ball. The sound of the ball scrunching calmed Viola, but still she applied more pressure and the paper flattened under her sole. Looking at her dirty work, Viola closed her eyes and exhaled a deep sigh. All that pent-up anger was now replaced by fatigue as she fell to her knees. Sitting on the floor, Viola picked up the grimy paper and flicked some dirt off.  Straightening the paper to its former form, she looked over the contents. It was one of the emails exchanged between them. Skimming over the words, Viola’s face softened and before long she smirked.

Fuck her life.

Familiar Strangers

((Here on the Masterpost))

Familiar Strangers 

A story by Suzanne Helen James

“Miss Viola!” the butler knocked and called out, waiting for the young girl. Faint footsteps were heard as a pair of bunny-clad slippers clicked towards him. The door opened and a dark-skinned, brown-eyed girl appeared. She was draped in blue robes and had tousled, long jet black hair falling over a part of her face. Viola rubbed her eyes as she looked at the manservant before her. “What is it, Stephen?” she muttered sleepily, leaning on the doorframe. Stephen responded by raising the lid of his silver plate and revealing a rather delicious looking breakfast. Warm, fluffy, square waffles sprinkled with traces of white sugar and doused with a pool of maple syrup. To the left of the waffles and syrup were neatly cut strawberries and kiwis in a bowl. The brown-eyed girl smiled and took the plate. “Thank you, Stephen. You may go.” With a wave of dismissal, the butler nodded and left his mistress to close the door.

Inhaling the scent of her breakfast, Viola licked her lips. Taking a glance towards her large Queen bed, the girl rolled her eyes as the sleeping lump underneath the covers moved. “Hey you,” she called out softly, “You can wake up now. Stephen hasn’t noticed a thing.” The lump reacted with a groan and moved again, leaving Viola to place her plate on the nearby table. Nearing the bed, the other girl gave a nudge to the lumpy blanket, but still no movement. Sighing, Viola tried again. “Hey…” she said again, “It would be best if you’d wake up now, seeing as if you didn’t, I’d have to kick you out of my house without breakfast.” This time, she had a more positive response with a short-haired blonde head rising from the white covers. Facing her side, the girl’s blue eyes peered back at those of her girlfriend’s with a smirk…

Wait, that’s not right.

These two girls aren’t “girlfriends” in the romantic sense.

They’re not girlfriends in the platonic sense either.

I know, it’s confusing.

Technically, if you’re not romantic girlfriends then you’re sexual partners.

Which they…aren't.

So then what are they?

Actually, they’re two girls who met at a club the night before and went to Viola’s house instead of Hailie’s because it was 30 minutes closer. Why their relationship is so casual I can't tell you yet, so let’s just recap to that and see why they shouldn’t be called one-night stands.

(The night before)

In the wee hours of the morning, despite the cold night air outside, the nightlife was still very much alive and peaking inside the club. The blaring electronic track was loud over the speakers, with the crowd bouncing and grinding on the dance floor. Multicolored lights swirled everywhere, highlighting various corners of the stage and floor. A remix of Fedde Le Grand’s “Electric Dreams” had everybody dancing, but some others were so enthusiastic and excited they were humping each other like hell. Among the center of these heated and horny bodies were Hailie and Viola, the two girls in question; just as drunk as everyone else and making out, with their arms locked around each other’s waist and bodies pressed heatedly. However, as fun as the light touches and body clinging was, the intoxicated pair was growing restless as fingers snaked under clothing and kisses became erratic and heated.

By the time the song was nearly done, the two girls were also close to the end…of the club’s doors, fumbling outside in-between their fervent kissing and groaning.

Hands roaming each other’s backs, the kissing girls stumbled from the club to an open field with a nearby forest. Hailie pushed Viola to a nearby tree and wedged her leg between her thighs. “F-flying fuck..!” the dark-skinned girl muttered, moving her hips back in response to the pressure added. Just as the two started to grind against each other again, a small breeze passed them and they froze, shivering.

Despite their strong inebriated state, it seemed that the two girls recovered enough to call a cab; but that sobriety was short-lived as soon as the car came, for the hungry pair crashed into the vehicle and resumed their make-out session.

The only reason they didn’t go all the way in the cab was because the driver had to honk them back to reality over three times. They were not going to make love in his vehicle at this time of morning.

 The other reason was because the girls decided to tease each other at least, to calm their lustful appetite; that resulted in the rather brief 30-minute car drive filled with groans, moans, and the occasional giggles and dirty talk that had the driver trying to keep his cool. By the time they arrived at Viola’s mansion, the girls were pressed on the left side of the car, playfully tugging each other back and forth, with their rocking movements knocking loudly against the car door.

After realizing they were at their destination, a heated yet mumbled squabble erupted between the two drunks over who would pay. After a sudden loud yell of exasperation, Viola won over Hailie by kissing her protests away and within minutes, was straddling and climbing her again. This made the annoyed driver honk his horn once more; this time, the long deafening sound not only scared the girls out of the car, but also made the local dogs howl as well.

Stunned at the actions of the cab driver, Hailie grinned and stuck a finger in her ear as the cab sped away, leaving her and Viola to another cold breeze.”Innit he a hoot”, the girl slurred quickly and giggled, looking half-lidded at Viola as she scoffed and grunted. “Fuckinfucker”, the other girl muttered, tugging Hailie to her side and dragging her to her house.

And finally, finally, FINALLY…after passing the small hill, the staircase, the backdoor, the hallway, the kitchen, the ground floor and another set of stairs that lead to the bedrooms, the twosome could finish what their bodies were craving for the minute they collided on the dance floor. Disposing of their top clothes as the bedroom door opened, Viola let out a satisfied groan as Hailie reached through the waistband of her pants.

Fuck yes, this’ll feel good in the morning.

***

As the early sun crept on the windows of Viola’s bedroom, the young woman groaned as the rays flickered over her eyelids, forcing her eyes to open. As she adjusted to her body position, Viola turned at the bare back next to her. Narrowing her eyes at the stranger’s back, the black girl sat up abruptly. Blinking once, then twice, Viola widened her eyes and put a hand over her mouth. Everything from the night before crashed back to her.

…The Club.

…The drinking dare from the zealous and drunken girlfriends.

Her.

Slowly, it was all coming back to her. She wasn’t just another girl on a night out on the town. Neither were her friends. She was Viola Miles, senior student in grade 12 at Hillton Prepatory school, queen of the Quill, the school newspaper, nominee for Favorite Drama Student actress of the Year, daughter of influential businesswoman Suzanne Charles…

But right now, Viola Miles wasn’t any one of those things. Rather, she was someone who had just done something very very wrong. Namely, bring a complete stranger into her mother’s home; and rather, not just any stranger…a female one at that. Twitching at the realization, Viola jumped as Hailie’s sleeping body stretched and turned towards her, bringing Viola’s wide eyes to gape even further as she had a full, clear view of the girl’s chest.

“…Fuuuuck,” Viola muttered as she pursued her lips and reflexively licked them.

Ok, so her breasts were nice. Fuck it, they were damn nice!

Startled by her perverted thoughts, Viola crossed her arms around her own chest and grimaced. What’s the fuss about a pair of blobs anyway?  Big deal, her cleavage was well-formed. So were hers. They were both B cups, big fucking whoop. Creasing her forehead as she narrowed her eyes again, Viola turned around to stick her tongue out at Hailie in defiance. Yet the visions kept haunting her as she glared at the blonde’s ample figure. Frowning, Viola continued to hold out her tongue, licking her dry lips every once in a while. Growling, she closed her mouth and frowned again, trying to glare daggers at the pair of breasts. Maybe then, she thought, she’ll feel my glare and cover those damn things…” Smacking her lips together again, Viola kept her intense stare and gave her upper lip a nice long lick with her moist pink tongue.

The same tongue which probably had licked those same breasts and tasted those small nipples.

“...Flying mother fucking…”A frustrated Viola muttered under her breath as she flopped back on the bed with a soft thump. Damn her for asking Mom to buy a soft, cushiony mattress for her 17th birthday last year. Releasing a long sigh, the long-haired girl took another look at Hailie, this time darting her chest and staring straight at her face. Proud of herself for resisting temptation, Viola focused on the facial features that she could see on the peachy skin. Slowly, Viola’s eyes trained themselves to trace the face before her, starting with the smooth forehead, lightly covered by blonde bangs surrounding her visage. Trailing her eyes downwards past the thin eyebrows, Viola noted how dark they were, a complete contrast to the blonde’s dirty blonde hair. Must’ve dyed it, Viola figured, shrugging. What are you doing? Just focus on her face! Ignoring the useless thoughts, the woman shook her head and stared again.

Her eyes returned to Hailie’s dark eyebrows and followed the trail down towards the other girl’s nose, which was adorned with a rather small yet noticeable nose ring. Though whether she noted this last night or not hadn’t been the first thing on her mind then. “Damn it!” Viola berated herself again, slapping her forehead. Another distraction was not fun…but at the same time, doing this whole introspection of a stranger whom she’d just fucked, or had been fucked by, was a complete and utter distraction in itself. It was taking her time from doing more…important things. Sure, it was really early in the morning, but usually that was good for her because she’d be able to take of said important things. They included extra-credit schoolwork, filling out those college applications due in a month, or perhaps looking over the audition role she was offered for Romeo & Juliet…

But at the same time, no one else was here to tell her about those other important things.

At least not right now.

Right now it was just Viola and this stranger, this rather beautiful stranger…

Who had a rather alluring mouth that the girl was just tempted to kiss…again.

After all, remember that it hadn’t been that long ago that they had kissed. In fact, it would be fair to taste those dark pink lips another time. Going with your indulgences isn’t bad, as long as they’re taken in moderation. Biting her lip and wetting it, Viola couldn’t help but smirk at the sleeping woman’s face. Who knew that she’d look so innocent when asleep, only to arise as a beast of the bed..?!

Goodness, what kind of terrible morning metaphor was that?

Rolling her eyes and growling at her weak mental vocabulary, Viola leaned down to press her lips on Hailie. Just as she was about to move away from the chaste kiss, a hand softly held her wrist down in place. As the blonde beauty awoke, she darted her tongue to Viola’s lips, asking for entrance. The young woman easily accepted her intrusion and rolled on top of her. It wasn’t long before their actions rapidly escalated and their bodies reacted in suit. In minutes, the once quiet room became suddenly a bit noisier. Muffled moans and grunts echoed softly in the room, along with light bed creaks. Though the Queen bed set was in perfect condition (again just a year old), a few hours with two energetic girls could best even the newest of bedposts. Or at the least break it in.

If you were really patient, unwillingly attentive or had spectacular hearing, you’d eventually hear gasps and long faint sighs. Luckily for our frivolous pair, their lovely sounds hadn’t been heard by anyone and they were free to continue their intimate exercises until one, or both of them exhaled their last begging breath for release.

When they did at last finish said strenuous love-making for what was their umpteenth time, Hailie grunted as Viola collapsed on her, her pants making small breaths on her heaving chest. As the two girls slowly regained breathing ability, Hailie’s hand crept up to encircle Viola's backside with her arm.  Too tired to reject the affectionate embrace, the beaten girl conceded and closed her eyes, deciding to lie with this beautiful stranger for the time being.

After all, this was only an indulgence.

It’s not like it meant anything.

As her hazel eyed fluttered closed, Viola’s last conscious thoughts slowly returned to reality. Yes, she’ll have to kick this girl out somehow. She’s not part of her world and Viola’s probably not part of hers.

They don’t truly belong together outside of this moment. They don’t exist in the real world.

And not to mention, she’s not very much for the same-sex relationships, even if it’s purely sexual. She’s rarely for romance or intimacy of any kind in general, because she’s always felt it unnecessary. Platonic relationships had worked best for her because at least with friends, once you’ve built your relationships, few things will actually break those powerful, long-lasting bonds. When it came to crushes or infatuations for either gender, she’s had her share, but has supressed and ignored them altogether.

She doesn’t think them necessary.

Besides, there’s rarely a chance she would actually see this beautiful stranger again, so no need for names or attachments. The physical actions would be enough. They would be forever imprinted in each other’s bodies and memorized, only to be replaced by future lovers. But they themselves wouldn’t count.

Therefore there’s no need for them to see each other again.

Kiss with a Fist

((Here on the Masterpost))

Kiss with a Fist

A story by Suzanne Helen James

Despite the strong rainfall on the stadium that early evening, the weather didn’t deter the girls on the field from playing like mad. Muddy shoes stampeded all over wet grass as the two rugby teams jostled for control, with yellow shirts against blue shirts. Leading the team towards enemy goal was a slim, dark-skinned girl with short red hair and brown eyes, with back of her blue shirt inscribed with the number 12 and the name “Anderson”. Huddling the ball under her arm, Anderson sprinted away from the 5-girl army chasing her. Feeling an assailant about to lunge from behind, the girl dodged her tackle, but failed to stop the next one from the right.

In order to avoid penalty, Anderson threw the ball aside and left her nearby teammate to catch the ball. As the other players moved onwards, the former leader was thrown to the ground by her attacker. “What the hell?” She muttered as the other girl grabbed her collar, only to slam her back on the ground. Glaring back at her was a short, brown-eyed Japanese female, with blonde streaks highlighting her front bangs. Being from the opposing team, her shirt was yellow and the back of her shirt had number 1 and the name “Sekiguchi” printed.  Squinting as the stadium light brightened above her, Anderson couldn’t see Sekiguchi’s punch until she felt a fist connect with her cheek.

By the time everyone had realized that the girls were starting a brawl, it was too late. Anderson retaliated by punching Sekiguchi back and launching herself on the other girl. The fighting had intensified to the point of the girls’ ignorance of the repeated whistles by the referee; they two had barely spared him a glance before punching each other out again.

Eventually the game had to be halted, with Anderson and Sekiguchi being forced apart when their teams pried them away from their clawing hands and kicks. Even as the game was officially over and the audience left, everyone could hear the strings of “Cunt!” “Bitch!” “Fucking Ass!” and other expletives until neither girl could see each other anymore.

When in the locker room, Anderson quickly rushed in and out with schoolbag, hoodie and messy uniform. She had no interest in dealing with angry glares from teammates or lectures from an annoyed coach. She might’ve cost them an important game, but was it her fault if she had to fight off the one person she hated all the time?

Anderson glared at the sky as the rain poured down and drenched her. Instead of taking the early bus or carpooling with her team, this time she chose to walk back home. Sure the rain wasn’t making this bearable, but it would be better to avoid questions that way. Plus, it was a few blocks from the stadium. Her thoughts interrupted by the constant vibrations of her cellphone, Anderson groaned loudly and cursed under breath.  “Flying fuck,” she muttered again as she started walking along the last sidewalk of the parking lot. Just as she was about to cross, a car suddenly stopped and splashed her, making the black girl even more annoyed.

“I fucking can’t believe you!” she yelled as the car door clicked and pushed open by the driver. Inside the car was her rival of mere minutes ago, Sekiguchi, whom Anderson had fought with back on the field.

Glaring daggers at her sworn enemy, Anderson’s brooding was interrupted. “Hurry up and get the fuck in, twat-head! Unless you want the herd to get you first, I’m not done bitching at you.”

Twitching as she was once again insulted, Anderson jumped inside and threw her bag in the empty car seat. Not willing to be outdone, the girl retorted as she snapped her seat belt, “Say that again and your parents will have a corpse when they see this car.” Managing a sideways glare at her new passenger, Sekiguchi slammed her foot on the gas pedal and sped out of the parking lot, splashing an angry mob of Yellow and Blue shirts.

As the car left the stadium grounds and drove into building traffic, the two girls resumed their glaring contest. Both had  bloody noses, with cuts and scrapes on their cheeks, lips and foreheads. Sekiguchi had a big red bruise on the right side of her face, covered by a round white patch of bandage gauze. Due to Anderson’s dark brown complexion, the large bruise on her face was barely seen not by color, but by the imprint of a large bump on her left cheek, the physical proof of Sekiguchi’s early punches.

After minutes of silence, Anderson was the one who relented as she looked away, leaving the driver to look back on the road. “…That's a pretty bad bruise I gave you.” She said, eyes still glued to her window. Sekiguchi glanced sideways and raised an eyebrow. “It’s awful yeah, but so's yours. What’s your point?”

Anderson rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat, hands in her drenched pockets. Chewing her lower lip, she muttered, “…I’m trying to apologize here and you’re not making it very easy.”

Another silence reigned before Sekiguchi snorted and swiftly replied. “Oh please," she scoffed, "We’ve been over this so long that it’s routine. Whenever we see each other, we get this mutual urge to beat the crap out of each other. We fight for a bit, make up…Or at least something close to that.” That last sentence stifled a laugh from both girls and dulled them into quietness. The girls keeping their mouths shut, Anderson stole another glance at her driver and kept her eyes on what she could see of the Asian girl’s face.

 Sure, her cheek was a little blotchy and covered with a giant gauze bandage, but it wasn’t that bad. And those eyes of hers, always flickering with mischief and a little…something else the other girl couldn’t describe. Was it excitement, anticipation? Every time these two met, sparks flew. This was literally so because when they first bumped into each other at a mutual friend’s party, the first thing that came to Anderson's and Sekiguchi's drunken mind was to deck each other in anger.

Eventually the frequent fighting between them became a habit the girls developed as a way of meeting, and the love-hate relationship intensified when each found out that the other was playing for opposing teams. However, all the heated rivalry and animosity took a surprising turn when a few months ago, Sekiguchi confronted Anderson after a game in the locker room. The conversation at first light, turned physical very quickly, and in-between the familiar wrestling and tangling…

A single misstep in their limbs and the girls’ faces collided with their lips. Despite the clumsy lip-lock, Sekiguchi hadn’t moved away but pulled Anderson’s mouth to hers, evolving the chaste kiss into a full-on make-out. However, their moment was brutally interrupted by nearby noise. Brought back to reality, the startled pair quickly escaped and parted ways.

After that accidental kiss, one would expect the two rivals to try and put their fighting aside and see if maybe they could reason and see what feelings were hidden behind their actions.

But actually, the opposite effect happened. The girls did everything but talk, choosing to express their feelings with fists, kicks, crude words, taunting on the field…

And the occasional car rides, glaring contests, texting conversations and secret meetings off the field.

“Why does she force these car rides on me anyway? It’s actually kind of nice, sure, but still…what’s her deal? I mean, all of this bitching and fighting…if she truly hates me, then she wouldn’t give me the time of day. But I suppose that I’m just as guilty for going along with her. Fuck her for being so damn cute. And damn yourself Anderson for saying that.”

As Anderson continued her introspection, Sekiguchi tried not to return her stare. She had to keep her eyes on the road, which was moving rather well…at a snail’s pace, but still. It was better for her to look at the car in front of her, or the windshield wipers swishing away the raindrops…anything else than those brown eyes staring back at her so intently!

Shutting her eyes and blushing at the scrutiny, Sekiguchi suddenly glared back at Anderson and barked irritably, “God damn it Lillian! It’s just a bruise, it’s not like I have a rash!”

Startled by the other girl’s yell, Anderson blinked and rolled her eyes before smirking. “Aww, what’s wrong? Too afraid that I might add more injuries to that fugly mug of yours? Or better yet, afraid that I just might like looking at said face? Don’t kid yourself, Jennifer. You're cute, but i’ve had better.”

This subtle insult stunned Sekiguchi, who gripped harder on the steering wheel. Blinking, the Asian girl took a few minutes of silence to formulate a response.

Eyes still wide minutes later, Sekiguchi suddenly scoffed and hunched her shoulders, chuckling at Anderson before delivering her smug reply with a long sigh and a roll of her eyes.

 “Oh. My. Fucking. God. I never knew that all your pent-up retard antics on the field was just a release for your frustrations. Had I known that...I would’ve reminded you that you’re a bitchy little child who always wants what she can't have!”

This single sentence broke all remaining attempts at friendly dialogue as the girls resumed their barrage of cussing and verbal attacks. As the fight heated up however, the traffic slowed down considerably. This made the cars move quicker, making the bitching Sekiguchi turn on an open road and speed out of traffic. Spotting an open parking spot a block from a coffee shop, the girl braked her car there and screeched to a halt. When the car stopped, so did the loud fight, leaving the two to brood in silence. Once again, Anderson spoke first, unlatching the seat belt and grabbing her bag, not even giving Sekiguchi a heated glare as she left the vehicle.

“I’m getting out here." She said flatly, closing the door behind her. "Thanks for the ride.”

Brown eyes bulging as her frenemy darted back into the rain, Sekiguchi huffed irritantly and kicked her own car door open and slammed it shut. When she saw that the blonde had followed her, Anderson quickened her pace and started to sprint away, making Sekiguchi chasing the girl into the coffee shop. “What the fuck already!” The black girl yelled as she opened the door and pushed it closed behind her. The startled onlookers watched the spectacle as the shorter girl pushed the door open and cornered her taller counterpart against a wall. Not wanting a repeat of the stadium earlier, Anderson pushed Sekiguchi and without hesitation punched the girl on her right cheek, sending her crashing to the ground. Throwing herself on the Japanese, an angry Anderson pinned her hands down on the tiled floor and gripped her wrists tightly. As bystanders ran over to intervene, they were met back with glares from both girls, so they stayed frozen in their spots.  

“Fucking shit you’re pulling!” The annoyed girl yelled back at the one beneath her. “Enough already, just tell me the truth! We've done this for more than enough time...start to own up to yourself!” Growling at the aggressive order, Sekiguchi gave a knee kick to her attacker’s stomach, making the other girl flinch. This brief second allowed the blonde to grab the other girl’s wrists and roll them around, making Sekiguchi the dominant one. “Fuck you!” she barked throatily,squinting and gripping her fingers against Anderson’s to maintain control. Hissing at the pain, the taller girl stayed in place, resuming her glare towards an equally pissed Sekiguchi. As brown eyes peered into light hazel, Anderson was then grabbed by the shirt collar and held by the neck. “F-fuck you…” Sekiguchi stuttered again, fighting tears to stream down from her face. “Why the fuck…why the fuck can’t you get it in your head that I can’t stand you? I hate you. You hate me even more. We’re not good for each other. I’m not good for you…” Sekiguchi grimaced and shut her eyes. Closing her eyes too, Anderson sighed and took a deep breath.

“I’m not good for you.” Sekiguchi continued weakly, “I’m not good for anyone. But you…even when I first met you, you challenged me. You talking to me merely irritated me. It made me feel…weak and…nervous inside. But who…who…”She brought Anderson’s collar to her face, “Who the fuck are you, huh?” Slamming the girl back on the floor again, Sekiguchi  mumbled a brief, “You...are my fuckin ass nightmare, that's who” before smashing her lips to Anderson's. Though shocked at first, the black girl didn't take long to reciprocate the action, quickly letting Sekiguchi access her mouth. In the midst of the growing kiss, a slow wave of applause erupted as the bystanders cheered. Once again startled to reality, the bruised pair broke apart and Sekiguchi glared at the crowd. "What the hell, people..!" She yelled. Realizing their public spat and kiss was what the crowd likely took as reconciliation between two lovers, the two girls rose from the floor and departed the shop in a hurry, waving goodbye along the way.

Meanwhile the rain had died down and had left behind a cloudy but clear view of a grey and honey-colored sky as the pair walked back to the car.

When inside the 4-wheeler vehicle, the girls were still silent, but this time due to their newfound awkwardness and nerves over what happened minutes ago. Eyes gawking at their laps and sometimes at the ceiling, Anderson fumbled with her hands and Sekiguchi twiddled her thumbs. After a few minutes of wayward stares, the girls slowly but decisively turned to look at each other. Narrowing their eyes as they studied each other for clues, the silence was then broken by simultaneous giggles and laughs.

With the tension gone, it wasn’t long before the girls had returned to their earlier actions at the coffee shop. The girls reignited the car and took a short drive away from the coffee block and settled in a nearby park. Finally and definitely alone, Sekiguchi didn't take long reclaming her spot on top of Anderson, who had travelled her fingers under the other girl’s shirt. “So then…am I driving you home still?” Sekiguchi muttered in-between fervent kisses to her neck. “If your parents aren’t home then we can stop at your place…”Anderson offered back, “And we’ll see exactly just how much you wanted to fuck me over.” The blonde pulled away from the taller girl and had her own hands fiddling with the belt of Anderson’s pants. “…I gotta say something though,” Sekiguchi interrupted.

“I like the sound of you fucking me over first.”