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"Hey Bran."
I looked up from my studies just in time to get hit in the face with Suzu, Amy's teddy bear. I blinked in shock as she screamed, "Bear attack!"
"Jerk!" I squealed, and threw it back at her. She caught it cleanly and grinned wickedly, rearing back to throw it again. I scrambled to sit and get my hands up.
Amy had lettered for four years in softball in high school, so the match wasn't very even. She took it easy on me and I managed to block it. I tried to fake her out, but she was too good and caught it again. By this time we were both on our knees on our beds, giggling, as we faced off across our little dorm room. She made me flinch several times before throwing it back; she drilled me in the stomach so hard I couldn't help but catch it. She laughed in encouragement, and my attempt at a hard throw ended up hitting the ceiling over her head. We played volleyball for a few seconds before she pulled back with a gleam in her eyes.
"No, Amy!" I protested, but she threw hard at my head.
I got a hand up and it careened back towards the foot of her bed. She lunged to swat it back to me and I swung wildly at it, sending it towards the head of her bed as she tumbled headfirst off the foot of it, a lone bare leg sticking up from where she had fallen. The bear made a funny noise and I sat up, puzzled.
"Oh crap, Amy!"
I jumped up and ran over to her bed. The bear had hit the half-empty remains of her Big Gulp; the lid had popped off, and soda was all over her pillow and sheets. I didn't know what to do since the soda had already soaked into everything. Amy got up and shoved me.
"Jerk. You got my bed wet!"
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to!"
She pulled a fist back as if to punch me and I pulled back in terror before she broke into a big smile.
"I wouldn't hit you, silly! It's my fault anyway. I knew I should have dumped that cup."
We shared a laugh before pulling off her sheets. We put on shorts—both of us were only wearing tees and panties as it was already past 11PM—and took the soaking sheets down to the laundry room. Just our luck, all the washers were full and there were already several loads waiting for the dryers. We took her stuff to the showers and soaked them, hoping to get the soda stains out. Amy had just changed her other set of sheets after way too long, and they were in the bottom of her hamper, so she didn't have a spare set. I only had one set, washing and changing them the same day.
Our dorm mattresses were hard plastic, and when we got back to the room we started arguing about who was going to sleep on my bed. It would totally suck to sleep on those mattresses without sheets. I insisted she sleep in my bed, since I had ruined hers, but she refused, saying she had started the whole fight. We argued for half an hour before finally compromising: we would both sleep in my bed. I'm not really sure whose idea it was, but I didn't think it was a big deal. I'd had sleepovers before, and this was only for one night due to extenuating circumstances.
Amy is beautiful, the girl I wished I could be, with jet black hair. She was my best friend at College. Athletic, toned, funny, personable and supremely confident; I had envied her from the day we met. She was small up top, but with her body and personality, she never had a problem with boys. The only advantage I had on her was my boobs, which were much bigger, but I compensated with more than a few pounds. It was like I was determined to put on the entire freshman fifteen in the first semester and with wavy brown hair and a somewhat reserved personality, boys didn't pay much attention to me.
The dorm's beds are really quite small, and with Amy's pillow soaked, we both tried to share mine; it was a tight squeeze. We considered laying head to foot, but there was no way I was going have feet by my head. We giggled a lot in the dark as we tried to find a position we were comfortable in. She complained that the wall was cold and squooshed into me, and I scooted over so far I was almost falling off the other side of the bed. Finally we settled down and I drifted off to sleep.
I was having a dream about Brad Pitt making out with me, yet I felt someone's hand under my shirt, feeling my tit. I slowly woke to the realization it was Amy. I was feeling so relaxed, I didn't move, enjoying the sensation. She flicked my nipple and I let out a squeak, causing her to freeze for few moments. I didn't move and she started to caress me again. God it felt great, and I knew I was already wet, but as I woke up, I realized that I needed to say something. This was Amy after all!
"What are you doing?" I sighed with a smile as I turned to her.
She jerked her hand away and sat bolt upright. "Oh my God!" she squealed, lunging out of the bed and out the door. I'm not sure how she got up and out the door so fast. I pulled my shirt back down, wondering where she had gone. Maybe I should have started with "I like that."
I rolled out of bed, turned on a light, and went to the bathroom. Sure enough, she was in one of the stalls, sobbing. I stood outside and tried to get her to come out but she wouldn't even answer me. Susan came in to use the toilet and when she came out she asked what was going on. Amy was suddenly silent.
"She spilled soda on my bed and now she's all weepy and apologetic."
Susan knocked on the stall and told Amy to come out. Suddenly the door flew open and Amy ran past us in a blur. I rolled my eyes in mock exasperation and went back to our room. When I got in, Amy wasn't there. I looked around for a moment before hearing something from her closet. I peeked in and there she was, balled up and buried in the back, crying. I told her to come out but she refused so I grabbed a small handful of hair just in the back of her neck; she squealed in pain and followed me. I put her back on my bed and she started blubbering.
"Please don't tell anyone. I didn't mean it. Please don't tell."
Over and over again. She was holding her palms out defensively and looked a bit like the monster girl from The Ring. I fought my way through her hands and hugged her, trying to calm her down. I held her, stroking her back, and told her everything was okay as she cried on my shoulder. I felt really bad for her. She finally started to calm down.
"Hey," I warned, "No blowing your nose on my shirt."
She giggled a little and I got her a tissue. She slowly composed herself as we sat together, gently stroking her arm in reassurance.
"You feeling better?" I asked softly and she nodded. "Good. Now back to my question: what were you doing?" Her eyes bugged out and she looked like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Amy, what were you doing?"
"Nothing," she whispered.
"Amy." She swallowed apprehensively and looked away but I steered her face back to me. "Amy," I said again, looking right into her eyes.
"It's just that...well...I don't have any boobs and you do...," she started, glancing at me guiltily. "Please don't tell anyone."
"So you just thought you help yourself to a squeeze?"
She frowned a little. "Yes."
"You have boobs."
"Yeah, but they're tiny."
I ignored her comment. "Guys have felt your titties, right?"
She shrugged. "Yeah."
"And did you just let them walk up and grab away?"
"No!"
"No?" I asked quietly. "What did they have do first?"
"Well, make out a little..."
"Right, kiss you. But you didn't kiss me, did you?"
