Author's note: This story kept popping into my head the last few months prior to writing it and would not let go. I tried resisting because the main plot of the story has been done to death since the 1980's (although typically in a more heterosexual format), including my first—and best—story "Anna Louisiana." But then a plot twist involving the mother of one of the main characters came to me a few days before I started writing, and it was too good to pass up. I have both her parents say things that I have read or heard from actual hardcore conservatives and Christian fundamentalists. And chapter 3 is based on my own experience of the one time I attended a fundamentalist church service for a co-worker's wedding. Chapter 3 may seem a bit long, and at first it may not seem to have much to do with the story, but it's necessary for the plot twist to work.
I started writing this story in July 2020, when the outcome of the election was uncertain. (Yes, I am a slow writer. I need to work two jobs to make ends meet, so I can only work on my stories sporadically). And so, I had to change it so that is that it is now set during the 2017-2018 school year (pre-COVID-19).
Warning: This story deals with underage drinking, racism, xenophobia and homophobia. Also, fundamentalist evangelical Christians (if you are one, what are you doing on this site?) and fans of Donald Trump may be triggered.
Standard disclaimer: All sexual activity described in this story is between consenting adults 18 and older.
PROLOGUE
There's nothing special about me. I may be the most average person I know. I'm 5'4", which is the average height for a human female. With diet and exercise, I struggle to maintain a healthy weight, but I still have a bit of a potbelly and a big, flabby butt. My breasts are somewhere between a large B and small C—again, average for someone my age. Like the average person, I'm near-sighted and need glasses. And my glasses have large, square clear plastic frames, which is the most common women's frame these days. On my 16
th
birthday, my Mom handed down her 2010 Toyota Camry to me. It was the bestselling car in America when it was new, so again an average car. Even my name is average: Maria Garcia, the most common name in the American Southwest, which is where I live.
There are a couple of things about me that aren't average. As you may have guessed by my name, I am Latina. But even then, that's normal where I live. My state is predicted to be majority-Latinx within 10 years. Like many Latinxs born north of the border, I don't speak Spanish. In fact, for my mandatory foreign language class, I chose German rather than Spanish because I thought (wrongly as it turns out) that it would be easier to learn, since it's closer to English than Spanish is.
The other thing about me that isn't average is that I'm a lesbian. I've never told anyone, though, but a few people have guessed. I only wear jewelry, makeup or dresses on special occasions. Not because I consider myself butch (although maybe soft butch would be an appropriate description of my style), but because I'm usually not trying to impress anyone. Plus, my hair naturally grows out in a billion different directions, and the only way I can control it is to keep it cut short and put a bunch of gel in it, so it looks like a cross between Kristen Stewart's and Halsey's (but I'm nowhere near as glamorous as either of them). When people ask me directly if I'm gay, I say something non-committal. But it's not like I'm afraid to come out. My mom is a lawyer for a non-profit that helps poor people with their legal affairs, with its focus on women, racial minorities, immigrants and the LGBT+ community. And my aunt Angela is married to a woman. It's just that I've never seen the need to come out because I've never had serious feelings for anyone. I'm sure if I found a girl to date, I'd come out and my parents would be okay with it.
No, there's nothing special about me. Which is why it shocked everyone—including me—when the most popular girl in school decided she wanted to be my best friend. And it shocked everyone—including me—even more when she revealed why she made that decision.
CHAPTER 1
The summer before I started my senior year, my parents divorced. It was amicable and my mom even kept my dad's last name, but they just couldn't live together anymore. Unfortunately, it took two full-time incomes to pay for the house we had in the city, so Dad moved into an apartment, and Mom and I moved to a cheaper house in the suburbs. Of course, this meant a new school where I didn't know anybody. Since my art and PE electives were both playing clarinet in the marching band, I started band practice a few weeks before the start of classes and made a few friends like me: quiet, shy, sensitive and generally un-cool.
Then, on the morning of the first day of school about a half hour before the start of class, I was shown to the principal's office where the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on was waiting for me. She looked to be around 5'8", with platinum blond hair in soft waves down to the nape of her neck. She was wearing a dark blue floral print off-the-shoulder summer dress that showed off her amazing calves and exposed just a hint of cleavage in her breasts, which were somewhere between a large C and a small D. And with her deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, button nose and bright smile, she looked like a living Barbie doll.
The principal came out and made introductions: "Ms. Garcia, this is Christina Wright. She'll be showing you around the campus this morning before school starts. Ms. Wright, this is Maria Garcia. She's a senior this year and you have a few classes with her, so get used to seeing lots of each other."
"H . . . h . . . hi, Christina." I'm naturally shy, so I was already uncomfortable meeting this new person. The fact that I was a closeted lesbian and she looked like a goddess only added to my anxiety.
She took my hand, gave a charming laugh and said, "Please. Call me Christi. Only my mom calls me Christina. Do you prefer Maria or Mary?"
"Maria. Thank you."
"Okay, let me show you around campus."
I already knew where the band hall was because of summer practice, but she showed me how to find my locker and the various classrooms. As it turned out, Christi's locker was right next to mine.
Due to the large student population, the campus was divided into three good-sized two-story buildings. Math and science classes were in one building, history and civics classes were in another, and English and foreign language classes were in the main building along with the gym, theater, and various music practice halls.
"Oh! I see we both have Ms. Lehrer for AP English in first period. Do you want to sit next to me? I'd really like that."
"Okay." That's about all I was comfortable saying to her at the time.
After first period, Christi escorted me to my calculus class. "We don't have any more morning classes together, but we do have AP history together for fifth period, so why don't we meet up for lunch and go to class together from there?"
"Sounds good. I'll look for you."
"Hey, can I have your phone? I want us to be able to text each other in case something comes up."
We exchanged numbers and then as Christi was walking away, she looked over her shoulder, smiled at me and gave a little wave with her fingers.
Calvin—one of my friends from marching band—looked at us in awe. "Was that Christi Wright you were talking to?"
