Amy never considered herself pretty, but by the time she got to college it was obvious that she was very attractive. Of Korean descent, she had a trim figure with perky breasts, large round eyes, soft shapely lips, and long silky black hair. Above her lip was a tiny black mole. Her blossoming beauty was embarrassing to her. The attention from boys made her feel even more shy. But she hated being shy. She envied other girls who could talk so casually to the boys in her freshman dorm. One of those girls was Janie. Blonde, confident, beautiful, she seemed to love teasing the boys, her smile so easy, but with a mischievous gleam in her green eyes.
Janie. Yes, there was a time when Amy thought she wanted to be her. But after the events of the previous night, her feelings were in a tumult. She didn't understand what she wanted anymore, even if she wanted to stay in college, no matter how much dishonor it would bring to her parents.
Amy sat in the lecture hall for Psych 101. It was the class she had been dreading all day. She had been in an agony over whether she should go to it or not, but she finally decided that she did not want to be a coward. She would go, and whatever happened would happened. Her stomach in a nervous flutter she sat down in one of the back rows. After settling herself, she allowed her eyes to sweep the hall. No Janie. Amy relaxed somewhat, yet also felt a keen disappointment. She started to daydream about what Janie had said to her, and all the events of the last week, when her heart felt a jolt. It was Janie. She had arrived just before the lecture started, sitting two rows ahead.
Amy didn't want to look in Janie's direction. She was there to learn. Dutifully, she took out her notebook and started to take down what the instructor was saying. Transference... mental block... Repression... Her handwriting was shaky. Irritated with herself, she bore down on her pen harder. But ten minutes into the lecture that she barely heard, she felt she had earned a look in Janie's direction.
She started. Janie was staring at her, as if waiting for Amy to finally look at her. Janie smiled that beautiful smile of hers. Amy managed to tighten her lips in a return smile. Then, just as she was about to look away, Janie slumped slightly in her seat and with her left hand partially shielding her from others, she extended her middle finger on her right hand and put it slowly into her mouth.
Amy nearly fainted. It had not been a dream. It had really happened. Heart knocking in her chest, she cast down her eyes. But she could not unsee the image. And she knew exactly what it signified. That had been the very finger, the finger belonging to Janie Hervoldt, one of the most beautiful and popular girls on campus, that had been inside her, that had violated her. Her tongue moved seductively around the finger... It was still too unbelievable. Amy thought again of the times she had met Janie briefly in the halls of their dorm or in the cafeteria and noticed the gleam in the girl's eye when she said hi. What was it? But Amy had ignored those signs at the time. She was new to college, after all, and there was no knowing what people were thinking. Perhaps Janie was making fun of her? But then came the incident in the library.
Amy had been in a cubicle late at night when a piece of folded paper dropped nearby. She looked up to see a blonde girl walking off--Janie?--and then, a little bored with her studies, she decided to see what the paper was. Unfolding it, it simply said, "Meet me in the study room." Amy looked around. Her? Was it really meant for her? Amy sat for a long moment. At last, thinking to cover her confusion by going for the drinking fountain, she walked past the study rooms. There, behind the door with the window in it, was Janie Hervoldt. She motioned at Amy.
"Hey," Janie said. "I have a question for you."
Amy stood holding the door to the study room. "Yes?"
Janie laughed. "I promise I won't bite. Come in. I just want to ask you about the class we have together. Mr Foster's psych class? You have that too, right?"
"Oh, yes. Yes."
"Great. Well, I need some help. I thought maybe we could study together sometime?"
With relief, and even some joy, Amy agreed to meet Janie at her dorm room after the library closed. It seemed she was going to have a friend at last. Once there, however, she started to feel nervous again. Janie sat on the edge of her bed, wearing a tight pink shirt and sweats, her hair tied in the back. It was late, nearly eleven, and Janie had a beer in her hand. Amy's intuition told her this wasn't merely a study session.
"Thanks for coming. I study better when I'm relaxed. But I guess you don't..." Janie laughed a little. Amy was still wearing her somewhat formal style of dress--a skirt and button-down top with a collar. "Have a beer with me."
"No, thanks."
"Come on. Just one."
Amy found herself sitting on the bed with her new friend, sipping at a beer. It seemed to her, as the beer starting to make her feel a little dizzy, that Janie was the one who should have been teaching her about psychology. Amy didn't like to drink, and yet here she was getting a second beer. And what happened to studying?
"You must get a lot of guys hitting on you," Janie said suddenly.
"What, no, me? What?"
"Wow! You're really blushing. That's really cute."
Janie told Amy about herself, that she was an Army brat, going from base to base in her childhood years. She thought of joining the military herself, but decided to enter college instead, thinking she could meet nice people.
"Like you," Janie said.
"Oh, thanks."
Janie scooted closer to Amy on the bed. Amy could smell her friend's breath, feel the warmth of her soft body, her large breast sometimes brushing against Amy's arm... What was she thinking? She had to go. She had to leave. She set down her nearly-empty beer. It was stupid of her to drink.
"I have to go," Amy said. "I have early class, and I..."
"No."
As simple as that. Janie didn't grab Amy, or seem to move a muscle. And her voice was level, calm. But at that one word command, Amy was frozen. She sat, confused, not moving. Janie smiled.
"We're having too much fun. So tell me, what do you think about..."
"Think about?"
"Yeah, I mean, when you're masturbating."
"What?" Amy had never been asked such a question before. She almost fell off the bed. And yet Janie asked it such a matter-of-fact tone.
"I bet you like to touch yourself, don't you." Janie's voice became a little ragged. She stared at Amy.
"No, no, I..."