Pygmalion 3.0

Dearest reader

There's some hetero sex here before you get to the good sapphic stuff. This is also intended to be VERY tongue in cheek. I'd been hoping to include a cameo from a

Claire West

character but it didn't happen, so just go and read

her stories

instead.

Massive thanks to Mykymyk2 and Toesucker1 for their advice and feedback. All remaining flaws and shortcomings are entirely my fault.

Happy reading!

Love T x

_____________________________________________________

"Where is that going to be?" I huff to myself, facing the boxes at the back of the cupboard. I really need to label these better.

I pull one out, looking for my fourth year notes on hormones.

Instead, what I find is stuff from sixth form. Old textbooks - why did I keep these? - old class notes - ditto - our yearbook - No! The haircut horror! - and my diaries.

Nostalgia time! Great, a new way to procrastinate! I plunge in, turning pages, wincing immediately at the earnestness of my tone. God, I was a self-righteous twat. Not sure I've changed, really.

Then I come across THE entry. The seismic one. October 4th. The day my world changed. The day my first, best and closest friend Pippa told me she didn't want to come to Uni with me.

Thoughts of choices made and roads not taken tighten my gut.

October 4th 6 Years ago

"What the fuck, Pippa?" I was in disbelief. What had she just said?

"I'm just saying, I'm thinking of not applying to the same Unis as you. Okay? I just think I'd rather go somewhere else?"

"Like where?"

We'd been over this all throughout the previous year. Through the UCAS systems we could apply for six Universities. We were both going to be doctors, which restricted our choices further, as there are only forty three medical schools that accept undergraduates in the UK. We didn't want to live at home, but didn't want to go too far either, so we'd decided on Birmingham, Brighton, Exter, Plymouth, Southampton and UCL (though neither of us really wanted to go to London).

"Um, well, I was thinking of up north. Manchester, Liverpool, maybe even Edinburgh."

"Okay. Fine. Thanks for telling me. Do you have the course codes?"

"What?"

I turned my head to look at her. "The course codes? So I can change my options on my application?" Why was she being dense about this? Obviously I was going where she was going.

"Err..." She blanched. Literally went white. I heard her mutter "fuck" under her breath.

Moving my laptop to one side, I sat up on my bed and faced her. We'd been inputting all the data to the online form together. The deadline was in eleven days.

"What's going on Pippa?"

She was leaning back against the headboard, her laptop clutched defensively in front of her. She had ducked her head down, hiding her face behind her long hair. Sounds of sniffing came from behind the chestnut curtain. I could see her shaking.

"Pippa, if I wasn't really worried about you right now, then I'd be fucking offended by you stonewalling me like this. Something is going on and you need to tell me what it is."

This high pitched whine came from under her hair. Shit, she was crying.

I didn't write it in my diary, but I remember that she didn't want me to take her laptop from her, and she didn't want me to hold her, but I was having none of it. When she tried to push me away, I literally straddled her and clutched her head to my chest, letting her tears soak my school shirt. Yeah we still had to wear uniforms even though we were eighteen. It sucked.

In retrospect, given what she needed to tell me, shoving her face in my cleavage probably wasn't constructive.

Eventually, I coaxed her out.

"Just... Just promise me you won't hate me?"

"Did you run over Audrey Hepburn?" (Audrey Hepburn was our cat, who'd been killed by an unknown driver the previous year. My dad thought he was so funny picking that name.)

"What? No!"

"Did you install a webcam in my shower and have you been making money by live streaming it to our classmates?"

"No!"

"Have you sold my kidney on the black market to fund your crypto trading?"

"Fuck off," she fought back a laugh, "can we be serious?"

"Sure. If you promise to tell me, I promise not to hate you."

"Okay. Thanks. Um, Shannon, can you get off me first?"

"No."

"Shannon, please?"

"No, tell me!"

"Shannon!"

"No!"

"Shannon please."

Okay, I recall I was starting to feel a little guilty now and was just about to stop straddling her legs at this point.

"Shannon, I think I'm gay!"

Okay, so at that point I definitely couldn't stop straddling her legs. Wouldn't that be an implicit rejection? Mightn't she read that as disgust?

"Oh, right. That's cool. Great. Good for you. Groovy. Faaaaaaantastic." My mind was spinning. Why was this a big deal? There must be something else going on here. "But, Pippa, babe, why are you worried about this? I mean, why did you think I would care? You know Cameron's Mum and older sister are lesbians? And your parents are going to be cool with it, right?"

She mumbled something indistinct.

"What was that?"

"I said 'Please can you get off me now Shannon.'"

"Well, fine, but as long as you know that I'm not climbing off your lap because I am in any way, shape or form repulsed by your revelation." I kissed her on the top of her head and shuffled back on the bed. "Okay, shoot."

She wouldn't look at me, still hiding behind her hair.

"Earth to Pippa. Come on, spill babe. What's up?"

She didn't speak.

"Sweetie. Pippa. Sorry, look, I know I'm being flip about this, but it's because... I don't wanna say it's no big deal, because clearly for you it is, but you know for me it really isn't." I squeezed her ankles. "It doesn't change how I feel about you."

I sighed. Then a thought suddenly came to me, perking me up. "Oh! Is that why you want to go to those Unis? Because they have better gay scenes?" My brain caught up with me. "No, that makes no sense, ´cos even I know Brighton has a great gay scene-"

"I'm in love with you Shannon."

"Excuse me? You what now?" My stomach flipped. I recall it so clearly, six years after the fact, how my body knew before my mind did how fundamentally this was going to alter my life and our friendship, my insides dropping like one of those trapdoor slides at a waterpark.

"I'm in love with you Shannon."

Like a damn bursting, it all came flooding out then, accompanied by copious tears. I held her hand as she told me how she'd been in love with me for months, unsure what to do. She'd confided in her older brother, and he'd convinced her that us going to the same University was a bad idea as she'd never be able to get over me if we were seeing each other every day.

"But, wait, we were going to be flatmates?"

She shook her head. "I'd never get over you that way Shannon."

It was a total earthquake. Nine point something on the Richter scale. We'd been best friends since Primary, all through Secondary, now Sixth Form, where we were in each other's Biology, Chemistry and Psychology classes. We'd had a gazillion sleepovers together. Plus, every time I'd imagined my future, Pippa was a key figure in it.

"But... but...but... you're going to be my maid of honour! I'm going to be Godmother to your children! We're going to open a General Practice together!"

"We can still be all that to each other, Shan. You know, when I've met somebody, and got a girlfriend and I've moved on, we'll be able to pick it up from a distance."

That's what did it. Not just the idea of being separated from the girl who I had seen practically every day for the past decade, but also the thought of another woman being her best friend. Taking my place.

Somehow, in my dreams, I'd never worried about future husbands replacing each other in our affections. Chicks before dicks! I spent way more time with Pippa than Cameron, my boyfriend of nearly eighteen months after all. But another woman being closer to my bestie than me! Never!

We talked longer, Pippa telling me about how the feelings had crept up on her, how she was sure it wasn't a crush, how her (lack of) feelings about boys made more sense to her now. I held her hand and nodded and made the right noises, but I was only half-listening. My mind was whirring.

Eventually, I interrupted her.

"Look, babe, if you are going to stay over, we'd better start getting ready for bed." Pippa and I slept at each other's houses all the time. We both left toiletries in our bathrooms and had keys: we only lived two streets apart.

"What? How?"

"Pip, look, have we had sleepovers since you realised you were in love with me?"

"Um, yeah."

"Well.... Then what's changed? I mean, now I know, but like, so what? I'm not gonna kiss you, but cuddles are nice, right?"

She started to pack her things.

"No, Shan, I can't... It's.... This is why."

"What? So you're punishing us both?"

"Don't you see how hard this is for me? To be so close to you but to not be able to have you?"

"How would you have me?"

"Don't tease Shannon! It's not fair!"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry."

So we ended up parting for the night. But I remember - though I don't need to, as the evidence is all there in my diary - asking her to rain check on changing her University options.

"Look, we've still got ten days before we have to submit the applications. I mean, Mr Hussain hasn't even finished writing our references yet. So just hold fire."

Gripping the diary, I bite my lip with regret at the things I'd said - so fucking selfish - and hadn't said that day, before flipping the page and finding exactly what I expect to find.

A pseudocode flowchart.

I was doing Computer Science as my fourth A level (yeah, I know: overachiever of the year here) and I was obsessed with flowcharts. So anytime I had a big problem to work out (or, just, you know, needed to write a shopping list) I made a flowchart.

I sit back on my heels in front of the piles of boxes, diary in hand and smile to myself. I'm such a geek, and clearly have been for some time.

Reading through it now, I nod to myself in satisfaction. It's not bad. I'm working with an App developer now on a medical diagnosis platform, so still keep my hand in. (It's what I need those notes for: I know I would have done them in flowchart format, which would save me loads of time... if I could just find them!) There are three decision boxes on this flowchart. Again, I wince at the selfishness on display... Then I decide to cut 18 year old me a little slack, as I don't think 24 year old me is much better!

The first decision box epitomises this: "Can I enjoy life without Pippa?"

The next few diary entries tell me how that went.

October 6th 6 years ago

"So, we need a trial separation."

"What?"

We'd been walking to school, as usual, when I followed the first step in the code.

"We need to see what it's like not seeing each other every day. I want to know what it's like."

"Shannon, I'm not-"

"Pippa, the last time we spent more than two days apart was when your family went to Lanzarote in Year 7. I don't know what my life looks like without you in it. I need to know."

"Shan, it's not going to be like that. Even if we don't see each other physically each day we can, you know, facetime and stuff. I'm not suggesting we cut each other out completely."

"Pip, how often do we see Seema and Jess these days?"

"Um, once a week or so."

"Yeah. It used to be everyday. And they go to the same Sixth Form as us."

(Oh my days! Jess and Seema! I'm suddenly overcome with a longing to see them. We were an awesome foursome all through Secondary, until they picked humanities A levels and suddenly.... Poof! We blew apart like thistledown. A wave of nostalgia for my friends washes over me, before sickening guilt seizes my stomach. I've treated others far closer to me far worse, but still.

I pull out my phone and message them both: "

Hey babe! How are you? It's been far too long and I feel terrible about that. Will you be in Bristol for Christmas? I'd love to catch up. Love Shannon x PS: May 6th. Save the date!

")

"Yeah, okay, point taken. Alright, what did you have in mind?"

"So, from the moment we get through the doors of school, we don't speak to each other unless absolutely necessary because, maybe, the building's on fire, the teacher asks us to work together or I've got smudged lipstick. No texts, no facetime, nothing until Monday."

"Monday!"

"Yeah. Needs to be a serious test. Also, no sitting next to each other in class."

"What!? You're going to make me talk to other people?"

"It'll be good practice for you Pip."

"Who will I have lunch with?"

"See if Jess and Seema are free? I'll track down Cameron."

I sigh, reading this entry. Cameron. My boyfriend of nearly eighteen months by that point. We'd got together at his friend's birthday party near the end of Year 11 and had been an item ever since. He was studying Computer Science, Maths and Physics, so Pippa and I both saw him for one class each (Pippa was doing Maths too), and the three of us often hung out. He knew how tight we were and never moaned. In fact Pip often came along with me to watch him play football and.... Oh. Wait.

Shit, I'm so self-absorbed. And she and Cameron both fell in love with me? Why? (My tits maybe? They are awesome!) I'm book smart but clearly too stupid to spot my best friend was tagging along to my boyfriend's football matches because she was besotted with me.

It was a shitty week and weekend as the next few diary entries make clear. I mean, I wasn't crying myself to sleep or anything. Let's not get over-dramatic. I did some cooking out of sheer boredom. My parents were very grateful. In fact, I got more sex than normal that week seeing as I wasn't sharing a bed with Pippa at all, so Cameron got to take her place. He actually managed to give me an orgasm without manual assistance from me, my diary records. (We were both each other's first: cut the guy some slack! We were still learning. He was actually a very considerate lover, very keen on foreplay, but, yeah, didn't have much stamina off the football pitch.) But life just wasn't fun without Pip.

So, back to the pseudocode flowchart. Clearly, I had decided that my answer to the question "Can I enjoy life without Pippa?" was no.

So that led to another Decision box: "Will Cameron and I stay together once we go to Uni?"

October 9th 6 years ago

"Wooo! Well done Cameron!"

I cheered loyally from the sidelines, next to Cameron's Gran and Mum. His Mum was lovely, a very striking, handsome woman. I'd been torn about whether to confide in her - after all she knew a thing or two about falling in love with your classmate - especially when she inquired about Pippa's absence. But in the end I decided against it: she would hardly be a neutral audience.

Cameron had played a blinder, scoring a header and providing two assists (might have been more assists if their striker's finishing was better) in the win. With scouts watching, no less.

I knew he'd want to head out with the team to celebrate. Now he was in the senior side, and recently turned 18, he'd want to hit the pub with them.

He trotted over to hug his mum and me of course. I preempted him.

"Babe, I know you'll want to head out with the team, and that's totally cool." Then I dropped my voice and whispered into his ear on the opposite side to his mum. "But if you feel like scoring again today, perhaps you could shower at mine?"

"I've got the car and I can happily drop you round at the pub. I can even pick you up later, if you like?" I added slightly more loudly.

"Would you? Are you sure?"

"Of course babe!"

I said goodbye to his Mum and Gran, and waited dutifully while he and his coach spoke to the scouts. Then I drove him home and let him drill me from behind while he was still wet from the shower.

"Don't worry about foreplay babe, just fuck me hard! My parents are out, so make me yell."

I didn't cum, of course. I put on a bit of a show, making all the right noises and biting the pillow, but I was being selfish, and I wanted Cameron to be a bit blissed out during our conversation.

"Cameron, babe," I said, as he got dressed. I sighed a little as he put his shirt on. That boy had abs to die for. Still, at least his guns were still on display.

"Yeah?"

"Are you still planning to stay in Bristol next year?"

"Yeah. Hopefully, my grades will be good enough to get into UWE." Cameron was smart enough, but he didn't put in the work necessary for top marks. A couple of Bs were the best he could realistically hope for, though Cs were more likely. (In fact, I think he got BCC in the end.) Too distracted by sex and football.

"Okay." I paused. "You know that I'm not, right?"

"Yeah, you said."

"The thing is... I don't think I want to do long-distance."

There was silence in the room. I bit my lip as I looked at him, watching the emotions play across him. He was looking down, fiddling with his clothes, not really wanting to look at me. When he finally did, the hurt and fear was obvious. I felt terrible.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No! Cameron, no. Well, not right now?"

"But you're saying we've a use by date?"

"Did you have a ring picked out?"

"What? No!"

"Well.... Did you think this was going to be forever?"

I remember he didn't know how to answer.

"Sorry, Cameron. It's just, I've got to submit my UCAS form in a week, so it's been on my mind a lot. No, I'm not breaking up with you... But at the same time, I don't want to pretend. Like, you know, if you thought it would just make things worse if we stayed together longer, then I'd understand. You're a great boyfriend. I care for you a lot. I don't want to hurt you. Just... Just think about what you want to do, okay? If you want to keep having sex with me for the rest of the year until we go our separate ways, fine. If you think we should split up sooner, so we can both focus on other things, then, you know, that might be a good idea too."

I actually said these things to him. I know, because I'd planned this and had written cue cards for myself and hidden them under the pillow, hoping my bare breasts would distract him and mean he wouldn't notice me looking at them. I must have been proud of my cunning, because I'd actually stuck the cue cards into the diary.

Wow. I was one cold-hearted, calculating bitch. I must have felt a little bit guilty, as I ended up giving him a blowjob in the pub car park when I dropped him off and actually swallowed! Yuk! I didn't mind the blowjob bit, but sperm in my mouth?! Urgh! (I usually let him spunk on my tits. I don't know why, but having my tits covered in cum always turned me on. Cameron fingered me to a few orgasms that way, bless him.)

Poor Cameron. He was such a great boyfriend. I mean, it all worked out for him. He ended up being signed by Bristol City, but then got immediately sent out on loan to Cheltenham FC, so even if I'd stayed in Bristol we wouldn't have seen each other. Last I heard, he was back in Bristol, now on the bench for the first team and managing to complete his Engineering degree part-time.

In the end, we broke up a month later. It was quite sweet actually. We made a big deal of it: lots of sex; dinner with my family two days before to let them know; then dinner with his the next day, so I got to say "goodbye" as it were. I was really very fond of them. Then we gave each other gifts and made silly and tearful speeches at a friend's party. I made sure to big him up to all the girls there and even managed to set him up with Chloe, who was rebounding from a disastrous fling with Sean, to console him that evening. By Christmas he was dating Jess, which was super convenient. We stayed friends, and I helped him a lot with Computer Science: he always said he got a B because of me.