Best Friends

Just for one moment, I was back in school

And felt that old, familiar pain

And as I turned to make my way back home

The snow turned into rain.

--"Same Auld Lang Syne", Dan Fogelberg

* * * * *

POOF!

The flash from the camera blinded Rebecca and Jill, leaving splotches of colour dancing in their vision for a few seconds after going off.

Shaking off the effects of the bright burst of light first, Jill went over to the camera, turned it off, and laid the print it spat out over on the nightstand.

"I think I blinked."

Jill turned. "Tough shit. One take, remember? Besides, that was the last picture in the camera."

"You make it sound like a Driver's License photo or something," Rebecca said.

"Well, like most things in life, you only get one chance with the Polaroid." Jill wrapped her arms around Rebecca, and pecked her on the cheek. "So, how's that for posterity?"

"Some legacy we'll leave behind, eh? Two professional girls in their prime, one right before her marriage…" She looked down at the ring on her left hand. "…And the other on the way to a proposal?" She indicated the photograph in the frame next to the bed on the nightstand.

"Steve's kinda shy," Jill replied, looking at the photograph. "Doesn't say a whole lot, but you can tell he means well just by the expression on his face."

"Uh-huh," Rebecca nodded. "Looks like he's off to conquer the world in that 4x4 of his."

"Speaking of conquering the world…" Jill held up her friend's hand. "Where did he dig up the money for THIS rock? If you had any idea how jealous I was right now…"

"Being an investment banker for a Fortune 500 company does have its perks, you know," Rebecca said with a grin.

"Tell me about it. No, wait, on second thought…don't tell me. The night will get away from us."

"I like the way you say that," Rebecca whispered, pulling Jill's mouth to hers.

Eyes closed, fumbling in her high-heels, Jill reached back with her hand and tried to find the light switch. She got it on her third try, and the room got darker. She kicked the shoes off into the corner, then sat down on the bed.

She felt Rebecca sit beside her, and Jill's hands instantly went to the other woman's blouse. The silk slid through her hands like soft water as she undid the first button, her lips still locked with the other woman's.

Rebecca also removed her shoes, pushing first one pump off and then the other, the shag carpeting muffling the thumps as she did so. Her hand ran through Jill's blonde hair, and she paused for a moment. "You got a new haircut! I didn't even notice!"

"Mmm-hmmm," Jill nodded. "Just took the back right off, no problem. Pity the stylist wasn't all that cute, but hey, what do you expect for a lousy eighty bucks?"

"Nothing but perfection." Rebecca slid Jill's sport coat off her shoulders and hung it from one of the bedposts.

Rebecca's blouse was now completely open in the front, and the Jill practically ripped it off her back as her lover untucked Jill's shirt and started to tug it over her head.

"Tell you what," Rebecca said, after both their shirts were on the floor, "let's do the pants ourselves. I'm not as young as I used to be."

"I'll drink to that," Jill laughed, unbuttoning her slacks and stepping out of them one leg at a time.

Rebecca followed suit, and the two were once again at each other's mouths, tongues wrestling to gain a position of dominance over the other.

Jill felt the catch of her bra unsnap, and she let the fabric flutter to the floor. Then Rebecca was pushing her down on the bed, and she fell willingly, arms upraised, feeling like she was flying for a moment.

She felt Rebecca fall on top of her, brown hair tickling her face, tickling her neck, tickling her bare breasts as her lover's mouth worked its way down her body, licking and kissing, until it reached her left nipple, where it stopped and decided to stay for a while. Ordinarily, she might have tried to wrestle the other girl's bra from her body, but for the moment she was content to just relax and enjoy the attention.

Finally, she couldn't take it any longer, and pushed up her partner's bra, exposing her creamy white breasts to the darkness. Pulling Rebecca up over her until the girl was straddling her with her legs, Jill nuzzled her neck, then licked her way down her sternum until she was between the two beautiful mounds and stopped, trying to make up her mind.

"Um…left or right?" she giggled.

"What happened? Did you get lost?"

"I'm asking for your opinion, not directions," Jill snorted back.

"Ah. Well, like the scarecrow said, some people DO go both ways…"

"I'll say they do." Jill buried her face in her partner's chest, mentally flipped a coin, and moved to her right. It seemed to be the proper place to be, as Rebecca arched her back above and let out a soft sigh.

A beautifully-manicured hand made its way to Jill's crotch, and danced across her underwear. "You're over-dressed for this, you know."

"What are you gonna do about it?"

Without replying, Rebecca pulled Jill's buttocks into the air and deftly swiped the girl's panties off her waist and down to her ankles.

"Hey! That's not fair!"

Rebecca took her place back at Jill's breast, and kneaded the nipple between her lips. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Jill slid a hand under Rebecca's underwear, and caressed her lover's outer folds with her middle finger. "Sure you want to ask that question?"

"Do your worst."

Jill grinned in the darkness, tugged the panties down from Rebecca's hips. Rebecca did the rest, getting them off and down to the floor where they belonged, then (at Jill's prompting), straddled the girl again, her knees right under Jill's arms.

Jill sat her head up against the pillow behind her, then leaned a bit and found herself nuzzling Rebecca's inner thighs. The brown-haired girl pushed her hips forward to meet Jill's probing nose, and Jill giggled as her face was caressed by her partner's pubic hair.

For a few moments, little happened as Jill simply poked and prodded around. Then, without warning, she felt Jill's tongue sliding around her labia, felt herself getting wet from the sensation, felt the muscles in her legs tensing up from what she knew was coming.

Jill didn't disappoint, putting Rebecca through her paces as effectively as a Marine drill sergeant tongue-lashed a group of greenhorn recruits.

Halfway through Jill's oral demonstration, Rebecca made her stop, then twisted her body around so she faced Jill's crotch and began to return the favour to her lover. Both girls felt themselves convulsing in and out of an orgasm for the next few minutes, then finally came together, Rebecca mewing softly in delight, Jill shaking from head to toe.

Rebecca rotated again, so that she was facing Jill once more, and they kissed fully, contentedly.

When they finally got up, Rebecca glanced at the clock. "Jeezus, it's almost one in the morning!"

"You gonna be alright driving home?"

Rebecca sighed, then nodded. "Yeah. I can't stay over here tonight."

"Right. He would start to wonder…"

"Not to mention what would happen if yours walked in on us in the morning," Rebecca said, grinning.

"If I know him, it would be something like, 'Holy shit, can three play that game?'"

The two got dressed, and shared another kiss as Jill opened the door to her room. "We have to do this again sometime, Becca."

Rebecca nodded. "Maybe after our lives slow down a bit? I mean, who knows what next year brings?"

Jill walked her lover to the door, and lingered there as Rebecca tottered on the porch on her heels. "Take care of yourself, OK? Write me?"

"Sure thing. If I find the time." Rebecca tried to smile, but it didn't come out looking the way she wanted it to look, so she cut it off instead, and turned to leave. "Night, Jill."

"Night," came the stilted reply. "Um…I lo-"

"Don't say it," Rebecca cut her off. "But…ditto."

With that, the brunette hobbled down the porch towards her car, parked further down the street as Jill closed the door behind her.

When she was certain Jill was no longer watching, Rebecca reached down and tugged off first one shoe, then the other. The faded red pumps were half a size too small, and her feet hurt from being in them as long as they had. She ran a hand through her hair, then cursed as she looked down to see that one of her press-on nails had popped off sometime earlier in the evening.

Finally, she yanked the ring off her finger and angrily hurled it away into the darkness. She heard the dime-store plastic clatter across the pavement several yards in front of her, but didn't see where it finally ended up.

Fishing the keys out of her purse, she inserted them into the lock of the 1989 Ford, got behind the wheel, and drove off.

Back in the apartment, Jill sat in her bedroom, remembering every minute of the encounter, playing it back over and over in her head. Finally, satisfied that she had committed every detail to her memory, she reached over, snatched the frame off her nightstand, and pulled the back off. The picture of Steve, as flimsy as the magazine it had been clipped from, caught on the breeze of her broken air conditioner unit and twirled through the air only to land, face down, on the mouse-chewed carpeting. On his back, miniature letters formed words that, had they been combined with their brothers in on the page, comprised eight reasons why public education was failing.

She took the moth-eaten sport coat, found earlier that year at a yard sale for only $1.50, and hung it gently in her closet next to the rest of her rumpled outfits. One hand tugged out the rubber band that had been holding her hair out of view for the camera before. She aimed for the trash can, and got it on the first shot.

Jill emerged from her bedroom, carrying the photograph taken earlier that evening. From the wall, she pulled a photo frame down and studied it. The frame was one of those deluxe jobs with ten slots for pictures arranged in two rows: five on top, five on bottom. Taking a pen from a nearby table, she carefully marked the picture "Rebecca and Jill, 2002" on the back, then carefully slid it into the seventh slot in the frame.

Returning to her room, she pulled one tall book off the shelf, sat down on her bed, and stared at it silently. "Fountain Square High School Yearbook!" the cover declared. Flipping quietly through the pages, she reached the back cover, which was always reserved for autographs, signatures, and special messages from classmates.

It was completely blank, save for one message inscribed in the center of the left page: "Gratz, girlfriend! The world belongs to us! Best of luck! Love, Rebecca. Best Friends 4-Ever, Seniors, 1995!"

Her fingers ran across the pen marks, trying to feel the indentation on the paper, as she read the words over and over. A tear rolled down her right cheek as she sniffled. As usual, the Kleenex box by her bed was empty. "Here's to year seven of owning the world, Becca…"

Best Friends. 4-Ever.