Author's Note:
This is a story without a point. This is unusual. Most of my stories have a purpose beyond their ostensible text, some deeper inner meaning beyond the erotic foreplay. They usually carry a message. This story carries no message. It is not trying to change the world. It is not trying to teach anything to the reader. It is just a bit of fun.
Furthermore, the views of the characters within this story do not necessarily reflect the views of the author. Please don't hate me because of what my characters say. They have minds of their own and are completely beyond my control.
The author promises to respond to all feedback where an email address is given.
* * *
Christi's head pounded like a war drum. The world seemed split into two, one full of physical pain, the other of spinning nausea. She slipped uncontrollably between them, uncertain which, if any, was real, for what felt like a lifetime. Strange thoughts, or perhaps dreams, invaded her mind's vision and tainted what was real, until her spinning head caused a sudden and base urge from the pit of her stomach.
With a snap she was awake, although her pain had not gone, nor had her nausea. How much had she had to drink? She was supposed to be on vacation, but she didn't usually drink this much, did she? She tried to move her head, but her neck had gone into spasm, and it hurt too much. Her eyes were gummed when she tried to open them, and her vision was almost completely obscured. Why did everything hurt so much?
She shut her stinging eyes, looked inside her head for answers. In spite of her pain she found a warm feeling in her chest, an excited, romantic feeling. She had a thought that she had experienced something very intimate with a very special person. She focused on it, tried to remember what had happened, but as she held it in her mind so it turned sour, as if a thought could be contaminated and ruined by some sour poison. Something terrible had happened to sour her wonderful experience.
She'd been on a road trip with three friends -- that much she remembered. A handful of cities, a handful of roadside motels, and whatever clubs they could find to drink the nights away in. How many nights had they been out? How much had she had to drink?
Alright, she thought; start at the beginning: What's the last thing I remember?
* * *
"So… Um… Anyone had a lesbian experience?" Sherie giggled, looking up from her shot glass. Christi looked into her brown eyes, glazed with alcohol, as if vodka was evaporating from them. She smiled at Sherie's drunken expression, felt her cheeks crease as she began to giggle in time, then stopped suddenly as a hot wave of embarrassment swept up her spine. She glanced across the hotel room to Danika, caught her dark eyes in their darker circles of makeup, downcast to the cheap carpet. Did anybody else know? Would Danika be offended? Trust Sherie's big, drunk mouth!
"Sherie…" Christi began, in a mock-bored voice. "Come on, we're like twenty-three years old now!"
"So? Tell me!"
"How did we get from guys in combat trousers to lesbians, anyway?" Rene chirped, raising her delicate head from the little hotel armchair, where she had been sleeping. Her long red hair blended almost completely with the velour.
"I wasn't talking about actual lesbians!" Sherie shouted theatrically, her voice wavering with alcoholic excitation. "I was just asking whether anyone had done anything with another girl. I mean, that doesn't make you an actual dyke, does it?"
Again Christi glanced over at Danika. The smile on her pale face had gone, and her fingers picked idly at the fluff on the cheap carpet at her knees. She wondered if there was anything she could say, but realised it would be counter-productive: when Danika had confided her secret, well over a year ago, it had been in the utmost secrecy. Nobody was ever to be told. Not even Sherie, not even Rene. If Christi opened her mouth then the others might work it out for themselves. Rene would probably not say anything; she had a good head on her little shoulders, but big-mouthed Sherie could be relied upon to blow any secret wide open. Gossip was practically her middle name.
No, it was probably best just to let the conversation run its course and get on to something else as soon as possible.
"I kissed Rene once." Christi said at last. She glanced across to Rene's face, expressionless behind a mask of sleep once more. She looked at her soft red lips, and remembered in a sudden flash that she'd tasted them with her own, for just a short, never-to-be-repeated moment -- a bit of random fun.
"You did? When?" Sherie replied, astounded. She picked herself up from the floor onto her knees and turned to face Christi, hands on the carpet and face open and flushed and excited.
Christi shrugged. "A couple of years ago, in some club."
"Really? Why? Was it hot?"
"What? I don't know! It was just… Well, I mostly did it to get this guy's attention, really."
Sherie laughed, but a movement caught Christi's eye. Danika had pushed herself up from the floor and was stalking towards the door.
"Shit…" Christi cursed under her breath, standing to run after her.
"Dani, wait!" She called, once she was in the corridor outside the hotel room and out of immediate earshot of Rene and Sherie. Danika's heavy thigh-high boots knocked loudly on the floor as she stalked away. The door swung shut and latched, the sound triggering her to stop and turn. Her black leather miniskirt gleamed in the dim light of the hotel corridor, her bullet-belt and studded collar reflecting the pale overhead lamps, contrasting her black-and-white striped top and black braces.
"What?" She spat. Christi jogged a few paces along the corridor to bring herself close enough for a whispered conversation.
"Just… Look, Sherie didn't mean anything by what she said. She's just drunk, that's all."
"Yeah? And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"You think it makes you cool, to kiss a girl? Was it fun?" Danika barked. Her dark eyes, deep under her black eyeshadow, seemed to pierce Christi with a ferocity that she'd never seen before.
"Look, if I've offended you, then I'm sorry, OK? Yes, I kissed Rene, and yeah, it was kinda fun, but that's not a problem, is it? I thought you'd understand, of all people!"
"Yeah, I understand. I understand that it's cool now for every girl to be a part-time lesbian. That having kissed a girl means you can say you're bi-sexual and pretend to all the guys like that makes you better than all the regular straight girls. Maybe you thought I'd think that was cool, but I'm sorry, I don't."
"What's going on out here?" Sherie's voice sounded from down the corridor. Christi looked over her shoulder, saw Sherie standing in the doorway to their shared room.
"So now everybody knows." Danika muttered under her breath.
"Dani, please, it's not that bad." Christi hissed back. "She doesn't know."
"Fuck you. I'm going to bed. Alone, as usual."
Christi felt like saying something, but decided against it. She was drunk. Danika was drunk. Damn, everyone was drunk. They'd stayed out so late for a Monday night that it was probably well into Tuesday morning already, and they'd drank far more than they'd planned. They'd all pay for it once they woke, probably.
Oh, well. There was a bed waiting for Christi in the hotel room, opposite Sherie's. Perhaps it was time she got into it and went to sleep. Rene was supposed to be sharing Danika's room, but maybe it would be better if Danika was left alone for the night. Rene was only little, and Christi didn't mind sharing with her. Provided she didn't snore.
