"Thank you" doesn't seem enough to express my gratitude to InPennyInPound for all of her help with writing Meredith and Joanie's story, the next chapter in the saga that has made so many people giddy over girls kissing. I hope everyone else enjoys the journey as much as we have.
SSW
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Everyone has an idea of their perfect partner.
Generalities in some cases, specifics in others. Male or female. Older or younger...and within an age range. Preferably taller, shorter, skinnier, heavier, etcetera. They must have this. They can't like that. It's okay to compromise on X but not Y.
Sometimes, one's expectations aren't realistic. "Perfect" for them may not exist. Over time, one starts to whittle that list of requirements down. In some cases, to the point that they will settle with any partner just so that they're no longer alone.
I had pretty much solidified my mental checklist when I was junior-high age. I say it that way because I didn't actually go to junior high. Or elementary school. Not like most kids. I was homeschooled with my older sister and brother—Jenna and Nathan, respectively—until each of us reached what would be our senior year of high school. My mother had this idea that public school was less about teaching life skills and more about convoluting the social aspect between peers. Teachers using the classroom to push their own opinions. Yet, she wanted each of us to experience that one year of milestones. Homecoming, prom, graduation. She has always liked celebrations.
My dad is a colonel in the U.S. Army. Friends and family call him "The Colonel," out of respect. I call him "Dad," because I'm a rebel. Always have been, always will be. I'm also more like my brother than my sister...more outgoing. Unashamed to voice my opinion or get in someone's face when I feel I have been wronged. That kind of thing.
Jenna...she's an introvert. Is it wrong to say your sister is beautiful? If so, I don't care. She's beautiful, inside and out. That long blonde hair and almost violet eyes? All the boys on base have drooled after her since as long as I can remember. But she has never batted an eye at them.
We shared everything. Or so I thought. We talk all the time. Which is how I knew that year she went off to public school that she was definitely a lesbian. Late nights after comparing real-world homework with Mom's homeschooled version and your older sis doesn't mention guys at all? It was easy to figure out it hadn't just been a disinterest in military brats growing up.
But she'd not let on that she had accepted the truth herself. It would be several years before she told me. Ironically, because her coworker had called me to come cheer up my sister...in a lesbian bar. And I'd revealed my own sexuality that same night. Jenna said she was so relieved to be able to talk to me about it now. We'd laughed. We'd cried. We'd gotten so drunk.
Now, me? If someone had asked me straight to my face, I would have told them outright that I liked women. But I didn't go around announcing that my flag flew for the home team. Not after I'd hinted at my best female friend about leaning that way.
We'd celebrated her eighteenth birthday by leaving base to go dancing. Her cousin snuck us into the bar he worked at and paid for our drinks all night. During a break, one of her other friends who'd met up with us started a conversation about which guys holding up the bar opposite us looked the hottest. I'd mumbled, "The one on the end in the red leather jacket and tight jeans." Only my best friend appeared to have heard me. She laughed and said maybe I'd had too many shots of tequila because that was not a guy. I'd shrugged it off...though I'd kept my eyes on the mystery woman for the rest of the night, wishing I had the nerve to get up and go talk to her.
Military bases have been all we've known as "home." In fact, Nathan was born in a barracks during a tornado. The fierceness of the storm seemed to be ingrained in his blood, but we hadn't experienced the full force of it until many years later. As a result, my estranged brother was serving life in a military prison for letting his opinions against gays control his anger and his fists. Bigotry had cost another man his life and our family the only son and brother.
My parents had met at an army canteen. My mother had been tagging along with a friend who was dating a fellow soldier. My father was hanging out with his buddies with no interest in meeting a girl. He was in a long-term relationship with the United States of America. She'd bumped into him by accident when she went to get a drink.
They claim it had been love at first sight, but I doubted that the concept actually existed. One had to get to know another person first. Spend time with them, as in, weeks not days. Eventually you realized you could spend the rest of your life with that person...after you'd convinced yourself you could live with them doing this or that. After a few years, you tied the knot and moved in together until you were old and couldn't take care of yourself anymore. Wedded bliss.
I turned 18 the week before my senior year at the public school. When the first boy asked me out, I told him my parents wouldn't let me date until I graduated. It wasn't exactly a lie...I'd never asked them if I could date.
As a result of my excuse, I was able to relax around my classmates when it came to romance. Not that there was anyone I had an interest in like that. But I had plenty of opportunities to share my opinion on the subject when it came up with my old and new friends...both the boys and the girls.
I also brought with me my habit of snapping back when I was barked at, which gave me a tough-girl reputation despite my looks. Not the bullying kind of attitude but the don't-piss-her-off kind. I'd had a feeling Jenna had been bullied by some of the hoighty-toighty girls despite looking just as posh as them. Typical for the new girl on the block. She'd not admitted it to me in any of our talks, but I'd seen it in her eyes. She'd struggled. Maybe with more than just the bitches and jocks.
The first time one of the cliquey girls made a joke about my last name behind my back—literally, in the cafeteria—and a redhead asked if Meredith Swallow lived up to her name, I put that rumor to bed. Seriously? They couldn't have even let the first week of school go by before they'd unleashed their nastiness? All it did was expose their immaturity.
As soon as I finished my lunch, I stood up and approached whatshername's boyfriend who was sitting at the other end of the table with his buddies. I'd been very observant in those five days of public high school. He was in my science class. And guys talk. Loudly. Especially about their girls. Like if their hair color was fake or not. This boy, in particular, professed to be a connoisseur of boxed versus natural.
I leaned down to his level, giving everyone around us a good look at my rack...and ass. Then I said just loud enough for the table to hear, "The carpet definitely does not match the drapes on that one. But then again, you would already know that if you've really banged her like you bragged in class yesterday."
