Detox

Chapter 08: Stephanie

This used to be my playground
This used to be my childhood dream
This used to be the place I ran to
Whenever I was in need
Of a friend
Why did it have to end
And why do they always say

Los Angeles
Fall 1990

There is nothing to be gained from being me. All that is left is an empty shell in this vast chasm of solitude I have created for myself. I am a walking contradiction; visible yet invisible to everyone who wishes to project their assumptions on me. I give nothing away and refuse to divulge anything that could incriminate me. My silence serves to heighten my sense of mystery (what mystery?), and I could laugh out loud at your curious glances, or spit in your face as you wonder what makes me tick, or I could –

“Yo, Stephanie! Let’s go!”

She slammed the black leather-bound diary shut and slipped it beneath her mattress (no use sticking it under the pillow as prying eyes might tend to stray there) before leaping off the bed to trot after her already chattering classmates. Over the cacophony of grumbles about having to wake up so ‘goddamn early in the goddamn morning for some goddamn jog’, titterings over their latest musical crushes, and girlish squeals over the latest sales at their favorite shopping stops, the quintet of Stephanie King, Celina Johnson, Cindy Jenkins, Cheryl Dawson, and Alicia Madison maneuvered their way to the front of the throng, though they hardly met much resistance as most of the third-years made room for one of the most powerful cliques in the school.

“Damn it,” came the complaint from Celina while surveying the scenery with hands on her hips and an expression of disdain on her features. “There’s no way I’m running around in this kind of weather.”

This kind of weather being a dreary, bleak, slate gray morning with a hint of impending rain in the air.

“I think it’s nice,” Cheryl offered quietly. She was zipping and unzipping her jacket in a nervous manner that was slightly irritating. “Much better than running in humid weather.”

“You would,” Celina replied with a barely a glance at her comrade. “I don’t need to jog. I’m in great shape already.”

This wasn’t a complete lie though Stephanie secretly thought that Celina looked borderline anorexic.

About a hundred juniors stood around in their either black or red shorts and matching tees - though the smart ones had taken the time to wear a jacket to protect them from the chill - waiting for the seniors and Sisters that would lead them for the required ritual. Once a week, they were asked to commune like this in an effort to promote a healthy lifestyle, which was pretty much pointless considering most of the girls did this anyway (no one wanted to be labeled as fat) and there was gym as part of the daily curriculum.

Conversation had fizzled to weary murmurs as the heavy morning weighed on the girls, most of who were still half asleep. However, the sudden piercing shriek of a whistle had them standing at attention, and they watched as Sisters Noel, Tessa, and Margaret came marching down the steps with a couple of seniors in tow. It was the rare times the Sisters were not in the usual skirts or gowns as they were all dressed in black track suits as if about to head into mourning of some sort.

Of the seniors gathered, one of them was Tina McFarland – the most ‘perfect’ girl in the entire school (at the moment at least). It was barely six in the morning, and yet her waist length white-blonde hair was already in that impeccable straight style that was hard to duplicate. Her running shorts were so…well short, it was close to being a hot pant, and yet she ‘hid’ it by tying a jacket around her waist so the Sisters wouldn’t complain. Her legs seemed to go on for miles, leaving many of the girls to wonder when she had the time to even shave them. Her boobs were even perfect too! Not too big and not too small, and she knew they were perfect – why else would she choose to run in a tank top instead of the regular tee-shirts everyone was required to wear?

“She pisses me off so much,” Celina whispered into Stephanie’s ear as the Sisters began to ramble on about jogging routes and the need to warm up for fifteen minutes. “Just look at her. Who the fuck does she think she is? Cindy Crawford?”

“What’s to see?” Stephanie replied as she bent at the waist to begin her stretching exercises. “I don’t give a fuck about her.”

“Really?” Celina smirked as she mimicked Stephanie’s movements. “Considering everyone’s yapping about you taking over her role when she leaves…and you’ve been kissing her ass among other things.”

“Correction,” Stephanie cut in coolly; this time leaning to the side and stretching an arm over her head with the other on her waist. “I’m learning the ropes. It’s my campaign tactic, remember? Butter up those bitches and then win their good graces.”

Celina snickered. “Seems to be working so far.”

Stephanie gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes before bending at the waist again. Though she gave the illusion that she was focused on her warm-up routine, her gaze was trained on the current senior class president; a role Stephanie knew she already had in the bag thanks to her growing reputation. It’s something she had worked on since she had the misfortune of being dumped in this private academy two years ago, and now she knew she was on the cusp of being in charge of everything once the senior class graduated.

The art of ‘sucking up’ took a certain amount of skill and dedication, and goodness knows Stephanie had been doing that without making it so obvious (well besides Celina’s astute observation). It took time and effort, and her decision to take charge began in her freshman year; when she realized that being in power gave you exclusive rights with most things. She had noticed the untouchable aura among those seniors, and Stephanie knew that to achieve that same echelon of invincibility, she would have to surround herself with the right people and involve herself with the right causes.

Oh, and get excellent grades to back it all up.

Try to bury the past behind you...

And now, three years later, she was a member of the most important and recognized clubs in the school. She was in a successful sporting team. She constantly had the highest grade point average at the end of each school year, and her list of glowing recommendations from not only staff but some seniors was just icing on the cake.

All of this should have given her some sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, and yet it all felt…pointless.

What are you working so hard for, Stephanie? Who are you trying to please? Yourself? Doubt it. You’re not happy at all. Your smiles feel plastic even to you, and yet they all marvel at how amazing you are. The compliments pile up like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode in your face to remind you of just how much of a fraud you really are. Why don’t you just admit that you’re really scared deep down inside? That you are afraid of what you might become, and that you need this attention and adulation to make you feel human again. Everything was taken away from you when he left, right? You had nothing to latch on to, right?

Shut up…

Admit it, Stephanie. He was your sanity and when he fucked it all up, he made you go insane and now you are just a mannequin being manipulated by…

Shut up!

“Urgh!”

The pain would come much later, but in the meantime, she was plenty upset with herself for tripping over her own feet and stumbling to the graveled path like a clumsy oaf.

“Are you okay?” came the concerned voice from (she’s probably guessing) Cheryl, and as a hand reached out to help her to her feet, she slapped it aside impatiently and sat up on her own. The other students jogged on, none bothering or daring to stop, though they darted amused or curious glances her way. She had a feeling many of them were enjoying her moment of stupidity; after all it wasn’t often that the student body had an excuse to mock Stephanie King.

“Yikes. You’re bleeding,” Celina observed dryly as Stephanie raised her knee to see the damage. Sure enough it looked as if the road had just about shaved off a layer of her skin and the blood, which was now dribbling down her shin, intermingled with pieces of pebble and sand, looked grotesque.

“Here you go. Wash that out quickly,” Sister Noel’s voice chimed in. Cindy accepted the bottle of water handed to her, and helped to rinse out the wound. Alicia offered her handkerchief as bandage to stop the bleeding, and Cheryl was designated as the ‘crutch’ to take her to the clinic where the wound could be taken care of.

“All right, girls! Show is over!” Sister Noel barked and blew her whistle as more girls were now slowing the pace to observe the events. “Keep going! We’ve got one more hour ‘til Chapel. Let’s move!”

Celina, who was pouting because she wasn’t allowed to escort Stephanie as well, idly wondered if she could fake an injury too to skip out of the rest of the morning routine, but with the glare thrown her way from a senior, she rolled her eyes and obediently led the way with Cindy and Alicia in tow.

“I can walk on my own,” Stephanie admitted several minutes later when it looked like Cheryl had no plans to release her soon.

“But you’re limping-”

“I fell right?” came the impatient reply. “Of course I should be limping.”

“Oh…okay…”

Reluctantly, she removed her arm from around Stephanie’s waist; almost hovering over her friend –like a fussy Mother Hen- as she seemed to wobble a little before getting her footing. A spreading bloom of red was beginning to ruin Alicia’s once cream-colored handkerchief, and Cheryl had to wonder if it wouldn’t be soaked by the time they reached the school’s clinic. She bit on her nail nervously as she walked beside her limping friend, still feeling her stomach give that queasy jump as she recalled the way Stephanie had fallen with no warning at all.

It wasn’t as if there had been some large stone or rock on the path to cause the descent. It was just so sudden and out of nowhere. One minute Stephanie was jogging at a steady pace and the next…wham! Face down as if someone or something had pushed her. At first Cheryl had thought someone was responsible, but considering she was the one directly behind Stephanie, it threw that possibility out the window.

So what could have caused the lapse in concentration? Stephanie wasn’t as clumsy as she was, because goodness knew Cheryl was prone to falling to the ground or doing something silly for no reason at all. She had been teased mercilessly about it anyhow, and was used to it as well. Stephanie was the cool, calm, collected type. She never got upset too often, or when she did, it was the quiet kind of anger; the one that made you want to shrivel into a ball in fear. Celina was the loud one; the one who always wanted to be noticed and liked to get into trouble, and though Stephanie associated herself with her, Cheryl got the feeling that their friendship was of... convenience. There was no depth to their relationship. It was all so superficial and flat; like watching a really bad loaf of bread attempt to rise in the oven.

A lot of hot air. That’s all it is.

Whenever Celina got into her ‘hear-me-now’ moments where she would talk and talk and talk with no end in sight, Cheryl had noticed that Stephanie was almost always willing to let Celina steal the spotlight. It was as if Stephanie was simply observing her…no…observing all of them from a distance…from a pedestal as if far removed from their daily affairs. It was as if she was simply going through the motions of being a high school student despite her obvious positive participation in everything.

Cheryl wondered why no one else saw it. Was she the only one able to tell that this Stephanie before them was not real at all?

Or maybe I’m just reading too much into things.

“What are you looking so mopey about?” came the sudden question that had her squeaking breathlessly in response.

“No…nothing,” she finally managed to reply with a small smile. Stephanie was walking considerably slower now, though her sharp gaze was trained on her companion. “How does the leg feel?”

They could make out the familiar stone building around the corner now, which was a welcome sight to Stephanie. Her leg was beginning to go numb.

“It’s all right,” she lied and tried to straighten up. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

Their gazes met, and this time (and Cheryl would realize it was just the few rare episodes the real Stephanie made an appearance), there was an amused smile on her lips. Unable to control herself, she giggled at the famous Monty Python quote and at Stephanie’s responding chuckle, the tension seemed to roll off their shoulders.

It would require Sister Eve’s application of alcohol (and boy that had hurt like a bitch), a much more appropriate roll of bandages to secure the wound, and a warning to be more careful, before they could head back to their dorm. However, neither girl felt like going there just yet, and settled for sitting on a bench beneath one of the many towering oak trees around the grounds. They were close enough to the dormitory, but out of view of the clinic (in case any of the Sisters decided to get on their case).

“Almost seven,” Cheryl muttered as she glanced at her princess bracelet/watch. She groaned and stretched out her legs. “I can honestly say for the first time that I don’t feel like going to Chapel this morning.”

Stephanie said nothing; her eyes closed as she allowed the cool morning breeze to bathe her skin. Though her leg still smarted from the ‘tender-loving-care’ she had received, she could relate to Cheryl’s feelings right now. She didn’t feel like moving a muscle either. Left to her, she was content to remain out here (probably with a good book), but St. Patrick’s was already roaring to life. It wasn’t a weekend, and at the sight of some students already in their school uniforms heading towards either Chapel or their classrooms, it dampened the illusion of her solace from reality.

“Have you studied for the History exam yet?” Cheryl asked. “I haven’t. No, I mean I have, but I just can’t remember anything.”

“And yet you end up getting an A,” Stephanie muttered and rolled her head to the side, still not bothering to open her eyes.

If she had, she might have noticed how red-faced her friend her become. “I was lucky last time. It was an easy chapter, that’s all. I don’t understand a single thing about the Roman and Ottoman empires or whatever. Urgh. Why can’t Brother Paul just give us an A for even showing up to his boring class?”

Stephanie’s lips twitched a little in an effort to control her amusement. Cheryl could be the biggest airhead on the planet, but every now and then, she did have her moments. Many (read as Celina) had wondered why she kept Cheryl around, and even Stephanie couldn’t really tell you either. She had no idea why her random moment of sticking up for Cheryl way back in their freshman year, would cause her to want to keep this red-haired chatterbox by her side. Cheryl really didn’t offer much…

That’s not true. If anything, you know that she’s the one who offers the most than the rest of your so-called friends. She’s been loyal to you all this time even though you treat her like shit sometimes, and you really appreciate that, don’t you? Deep down, you know she’s your slim anchor to reality.

“…this really cool outfit for the dance next month! Speaking of which, is Jason coming?”

Stephanie nodded absently; ignoring the squeal of delight this elicited from her excitable companion.

“Oh my goooosh! He is such a hunk! I can’t believe he dumped Tara for you!”

“He didn’t dump her. They weren’t even going out.”

“That’s true but…everyone knows she wanted him so bad.”

“Hmph.”

It was a major coup, she wouldn’t lie. Jason Whitcombe was every teenage girl’s fantasy this side of St. Patrick’s. The senior from St. Bart’s High School had first caught her attention during Sunday Mass; and only because it was the rare time when that school actually got to join St. Patrick’s at the cathedral. She knew little or nothing about his reputation as the designated heartthrob, but she could see why most of the girls would go gung-ho for him. He had the typical All-American look; dirty blond hair, startling blue eyes that could look right through your very soul, and a rakish persona that did not betray how polite and well-mannered he actually was.

While performing her solo at the altar between the first and second readings, she was acutely aware of him watching her intensely (didn’t help that he was in the front row), and she had to admit that a part of her was excited at the notion of him even realizing she existed.

It got worse as Mass went on, for though she sat on the opposite aisle, it wasn’t that far from him and every now and then, she would look up from her missal to notice him glancing her way with a small smile on his lips…which would promptly send her cheeks flooding with color.

It had all been innocent, dare she assume flirtatious at times, but once Mass was over, she tuned him out and prepared for another long day of studying for the week ahead. Her final take on it was that he was nothing more than a playboy; someone who enjoyed teasing the ladies before trampling all over their hearts. He was bound to be no different than any other jock, and she had seen her share of those in her other high school.

And yet, despite all of this, she had definitely not expected him to tap her shoulder from behind – once they were outside – with a flustered and almost embarrassed expression on his visage. He had proceeded to compliment her performance and wondered if he wouldn’t mind knowing her name etc. etc.

Stephanie chuckled at the memory of their first meeting. If looks could kill, she figured she would have been dead on the spot at all the glares that came her way from the other girls especially Tara. She would later learn that she had been gunning for Jason for such a long time and apparently Jason had not given her the time of day. It must have been a big blow to her pride to realize that some junior had finally managed to snag Mr. Heartthrob’s attention.

Tough luck.

“What are you going to wear?” Cheryl’s question cut through her thoughts.

“A dirty old sack.”

Cheryl laughed at the blunt answer. “I know, right? I’ll bet the Sisters will be really happy if you showed up in that.”

“It’s going to be a couture dirty old sack,” Stephanie elaborated as she finally lifted her lashes to blink and orient herself back to her surroundings. The sun was finally beginning to poke through the clutter of trees in the woods to their left, and before long…

DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG

“Ah fuck,” Cheryl cursed as the familiar dirge-like sounds of the school bell echoed across the grounds. They could now make out the straggling line of weary students returning from the jog; an extra cue for them to get off their asses and prepare for the day.

“Time to hit the showers,” Stephanie stated as she placed her hands on the bench to heave herself up with a light grunt. She would have fallen over if Cheryl wasn’t there to catch her as she staggered a little.

“You okay?”

“A bit light-headed,” she admitted with a slow nod. “Probably some breakfast, and I should be good.”

“Want me to help you upstairs?”

Stephanie opened her mouth to give a decisive ‘no’, but she figured she might end up flat on her face again if she wasn’t careful (she really was feeling dizzy again), and with a light shrug of resignation, she wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder to lean heavily for support.

“God, this sucks,” she mumbled as they began the slow journey back to the dorm.

Cheryl chuckled and held on fast. “Ah not to worry. I’m sure wearing your couture dirty old sack will cheer you up again. Right?”

Stephanie snickered and gave a nod. “That’s right.”


__

Don't look back
Keep your head held high
Don't ask them why
Because life is short

Except the couture dirty old sack was actually a simple black dress from Donna Karan that stopped just above her knees to show off her legs (now sans bandage). It gave the illusion of being a wool-knit dress, but on closer inspection, it was of light satin and lace with an empire waist and spaghetti straps that showed off her shoulders – though it had to be ‘hidden’ beneath a matching long-sleeved bolero jacket.

The dormitory was abuzz with girls running around in preparation for the Sock Hop tonight. In the communal bathroom, there was hardly any room to breathe as every possible electrical outlet had been taken over by someone with a hair dryer or straighter or curling iron. Girls juggled for space to see their reflections as they applied layers of make-up or padded their bras or shouted over each other’s head to “pass the hairspray” or “can I borrow your lipstick?” or “I chipped a nail, goddamnit!” or “waaah! This ugly zit won’t go away! I need your Neutrogena, please?”

Thankfully Stephanie was spared from that chaos as she was in Celina’s room along with Cindy, Alicia, and Cheryl as they prepared for the party. It was the one night they could be relatively ‘free’ and what made it even better, there was no curfew so they could stay up for as long as they wanted.

“Lucky seniors,” Alicia moaned as she smacked her red-tinted lips together before her hand held mirror. “They get to go home if they want. God, I can’t wait until they graduate.”

“Tell me about it,” Celina agreed as she puffed out her chest before the standing mirror. She was literally wearing nothing. The strapless mini red dress (from Versace she was quick to announce to anyone who cared to listen) was molded to her body like a second skin, and it was just barely past her ass. Her dirty blonde hair (definitely a dye job) was piled up on her hair in a messy tumble of curls, and her make-up easily made her look years older than she actually was. Stephanie wondered who her date would be tonight. Last time she checked, Celina had dumped about five boys in the past few months. There was just no pleasing the girl.

“Girlfriend, please tell me you’re gonna wear a jacket over that,” Cindy said as she fiddled with her microbraids. She was in an outfit almost similar to Stephanie’s, only her jacket was not bolero style and it was of maroon-color instead of black. Stephanie wasn’t sure she appreciated being copied so much, but whatever. Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery after all.

“Jacket?” Celina asked with a raised brow as if asked the most stupid question of all time. “Why am I wearing a fucking jacket? What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“You look like a slut,” Stephanie stated flatly as she helped Cheryl with the zipper of her Anne Klein floor-length gown. She just hoped the girl didn’t trip over her own feet with her decision to wear this dress. It was pretty – if you were going to the prom.

“An expensive slut,” Celina corrected with a snicker as the other girls laughed. “Please. I’ve been celibate for so long; I’ve forgotten what a man’s dick looks like. Tonight, I am getting me some that’s for sure.”

“You are not!” Alicia gasped.

“Oh, I am.” Celina gave a firm nod. “And you ladies better be begging your men too, especially you, Stephanie.” She gave the brunette a pointed glare; a knowing smirk on her lips. “Jason’s been dying all this time, and you’re not putting out.”

This got a collective teasing of ‘ooooooh’ from the others, and Stephanie rolled her eyes in dismissal.

“Well, he can wait for as long as he wants,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders as she reached for her purse on Cindy’s bed (she and Celina were roommates) to smile indulgently at her clueless friends. “He’s going to have to work to get a piece of this.”

And with a snap of her fingers, an exaggerated sway of her hips, a toss of her hair, and a stuck-up expression to complete the performance, she smiled to herself at the cheers of approval (“Preach it, girl!”) this received as she walked out the door.

Although one thought still bothered her a little.

Not putting out? Dying all this time, eh? I wonder…

__

You're feeling old
And your heart is breaking
Don't hold on to the past
Well that's too much to ask

The routine was ridiculous, but for tradition’s sake it had to be carried out anyway.

The girls were to sit or stand around and wait in the dance hall – which in all honesty looked like something out of the fifties with their choice in décor – sipping on weak punch (though Celina had reassured them that her boyfriend was going to be sneaking in some hard liquor later), as the band rocked out some eighties hits to match their tacky hair-band inspired costumes.

(Don’t you forget about me…I’ll be alone, dancing you know it baby…)

Ah, Simple Minds would be envious of such a riveting cover of their classic. It’s 1990 for God’s sakes. Surely someone must have sent them the memo. Would a song from Madonna or Paula Abdul kill them?

“Ooh, here they come now,” Alicia whispered in excitement, causing the girls to sit up a little straighter and adjust/primp up at the last minute. You could literally see the change in the air as teenage hormones kicked into high gear. It was as if the girls were sending out unseen waves of attraction; that inexplicable biological component where opposites were compelled to gravitate towards each other.

Their male counterparts began to drift in as the doors were opened by the Sisters, many in black suits or tuxedos (and a few daring ones had gone with all white ensembles and even pastel blue. Eww much?) Most were quick to find their girls, but you could tell they were a few stranglers (nerds) who were just hoping to score tonight and they were the ones who made a beeline for the refreshment area to help themselves to some food.

Poor saps.

Stephanie couldn’t help smiling a little as she watched Cheryl’s beau of her life, Brandon, approach with a bouquet of flowers for his girl. Cheryl blushed prettily and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a kiss…or at least it would have been a full-blown make out session if it wasn’t for Sister Mary conveniently passing by with a loud ‘cough’ that had the couple stepping back a little.

God, those two were so adorable together, it was sickening.

“Hey, Stephanie,” came the husky drawl that had her turning around quickly with her heart skipping a beat in not just surprise, but in the way her man looked tonight.

Jason was tall and had the build of a football player, though he didn’t play the sport (which was an anomaly considering his reputation). His black tuxedo looked like it had been custom made and fit his body perfectly. He had brought her no flowers, but she didn’t mind. The fact that his attention was squarely focused on her, and that everyone else was now staring at them (Tara included), made this moment all worthwhile.

She accepted his offered hand without saying a word, and as he led her to the dance floor for the opening number, she melted into his embrace and considered herself the luckiest girl in the world.

__

Live and learn
Well the years they flew
And we never knew
We were foolish then

It was official. Celina’s boyfriend must have served at least five to ten in State Prison because there was just no way this … man… was still in high school. For starters, he hadn’t even bothered with a tux or even a suit. His leather pants with excessive buckles squeaked as he walked. The leather jacket with the ‘Hells Angels’ emblem blazoned on the back, had only been taken off because Sister Katherine was this close to having a heart attack, and beneath was a sheer black sleeveless tee that showed off interesting tattoos (one being a very naked woman) on his arms. His only saving grace was that he looked like a cross between Clint Eastwood and Robert Redford in their heyday. Otherwise, the Sisters might have kicked him out at first sight. Ah, and another reason he remained was that he was actually polite to the authorities that be. He was a charmer all right.

And now, here they were all tiptoeing/running across the fields toward the old mill in an effort to really enjoy themselves, and away from the prying eyes of the stern Mother Hens.

Brandon had to carry Cheryl on his back because her dress tended to get in the way. Jason was holding onto Stephanie’s hand tightly, though he looked amused and flushed at what was about to take place. Cindy and her quarterback boyfriend could barely keep their hands off each other; same went for Alicia and her beau (who was some geeky-looking dude from some fancy school in Hollywood).

“Is it open?” Alicia asked as they crossed the nearly wobbling bridge and Zeke (Celina’s boyfriend) tried to nudge the door open with a broad shoulder.

“Don’t break it down, you big lummox,” Celina chided as she pushed him aside to do the honors. The girl was clearly a pro at this, because all it took was a few seconds of tinkering with a piece of wood and the door creaked open to let them into their secret hiding place.

“Don’t forget the shovel,” someone said, and Alicia was quick to hang the official sign of occupation – that way no other girl and their party – could bother them – outside the door before locking it again.

It didn’t take long for the alcohol to kick in (Zeke had produced a couple of six packs and some whisky) and Stephanie watched as a giggling (and clearly intoxicated) Celina and Zeke staggered up the flight of stairs to the upper deck to finish off what they had started. He had practically ripped off her dress while they were down here. Cindy and her boyfriend were in a corner cozying up with one another, Alicia and her boyfriend were probably around second base in another side of the room, while Cheryl and Brandon seemed more content to ogle into each other’s eyes like lovesick puppies, though now she was lying against his chest with her eyes closed as he caressed her hair softly.

They look so peaceful…

“Let’s take a walk,” Jason suggested as he finished up the last of his beer before tossing the bottle aside. “I want to get some fresh air.”

“Sounds good to me.”

No one seemed to concern themselves about their departure, and Stephanie was sure to leave the shovel in place before reaching out to accept Jason’s hand.

Together they walked in silence towards the lake, where they could see other couples taking advantage of the picturesque setting.

So romant -

“Aww man,” Jason whined. “I was hoping we could hang out in the gazebo.”

“Looks like it’s already taken,” Stephanie observed and reluctantly shivered as a sudden gust of evening breeze went past. She would have loved to be in the gazebo as well. It was one of her most favorite spots in the whole school.

“Cold?” Jason asked when he noticed her tremble.

“A little bi -”

Before she could finish, he was releasing her to peel out of his jacket; only to wrap it around her shoulders with such tenderness, it made her heart stir. “There…feel better now?”

She held onto the cloth, now feeling incredibly shy. Her cheeks burned at the genuine concern he seemed to be showing, and the intoxicating smell of his cologne (of him) permeated her senses and made her knees weak.

It’s got to be the beer, she thought quickly. I’m buzzed that’s all.

“Thank you,” she managed to mutter as she gave him a timid glance. “It’s nice of you.”

He said nothing for a long time, and just when she began to wonder what was wrong, he placed a hand beneath her chin to force her gaze on him.

“Sometimes…” he began thickly, as if speaking from a distance though he was close…oh so close and getting closer still. “Sometimes I wish I had met you years ago.”

Huh? She blinked at the statement, wondering what he was talking about. His eyes had darkened to a color of cobalt, and in the relative darkness, this made him look dangerous…the kind of dangerous a girl could easily fall for.

“Sometimes,” he whispered; his lips now barely inches away from her unresisting ones. “I wish you could feel just how much I’ve fallen in love with you, Stephanie.”

Fallen in love…?

Whatever else she might have thought of was lost in the sensation and pressure of his lips finally meeting hers. It wasn’t their first kiss. He had the honor of doing that several months ago after a lacrosse game, but this was certainly the first time she could honestly say she felt something.

It’s got to be the beer…

Beer or not, whatever this something was, it sure as hell was making her feel weird and funny and deliciously aroused at his seeming expertise.

Someone moaned in pleasure, and that little action gave them better access to each other’s mouths. His tongue felt rough yet warm against hers. He seemed to want to explore every inch of it, and the deeper he went, the more light-headed she became. She could feel his body press against hers; the obvious bump/bulge of his erection caressing her midsection and lower regions. There was a sudden rush of heat between her legs and it was only compounded as he slowly thrust a thigh between hers to grind his hips a little.

Oh fuck…what…we…can’t…

Rational thinking was slowly flying out the window, and she could feel her resolve crumbling faster with every stroke of his tongue, with the way his hands were now cupping her nape to hold her head steady, and with the faster rotation of his hips that dampened her underwear. She wanted to breathe…needed to breathe…to stop him from continuing this assault that she knew would only lead to something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. Her breasts felt heavy yet soft against his chest, and when he finally lowered a hand to trail it down her neck…down her shoulder…and to finally cup a feel of one of them…

Oh God…

It was the flicker of his thumb against an already hardened nipple that seemed to snap her back to reality.

Stop…stop…st…stop!

With seemingly every ounce of strength she had left, she placed both hands on his chest and pushed him away, staggering and nearly falling to the ground as she struggled to get her bearings.

They were both breathing hard; his features flushed and slightly dazed, lips swollen and eyes still in that darkened state of arousal. It must have taken him another long minute to realize that they weren’t actually in an embrace anymore.

“Steph…” he began in a voice that sounded drugged. He cleared his throat and tried again, a look of bemusement now on his visage. “What? What’s wrong, Stephanie? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak just yet. She had to get herself together; to think of what she had to say.

Moving too fast, her thoughts raced. We’re moving too fast.

Oh really? Came the mocking taunt. You’ve been dating this guy for almost three months and each time it’s been a little necking here and there and now that he’s clearly asking for permission to get to at least third base, you’re not letting him?! What kind of a prude are you?! Oh, that’s right, as the leader of the Teens against Teen Pregnancy brigade; you want to keep your blemish-free reputation intact, right? Because we all know that simply engaging in a little foreplay sprouts out babies automatically. Oh, spare me the bullshit…!

“I need to sit down,” she gasped out before her annoying thoughts could get in the way again. She tried to flash him a smile. “Can we just sit down for a minute?”

For a moment, his lips tightened with disapproval, but he shrugged and motioned for them to move toward a slab of stone shaped like a bench.

An awkward silence fell, and Stephanie wasn’t sure if she ought to apologize for the invisible layer of thin ice she had erected with her rejection. Jason wasn’t looking at her at the moment. His jaw was still clenched as if trying to hold back his words; his hands clasped tightly between his spread thighs as he stared at the glistening lake in the distance. The soft giggles and muffled conversation that ebbed around them from other couples seemed to mock their companionship, and Stephanie felt even more of a heel for ruining a perfectly good moment.

The least she could do was apologize…right?

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she finally admitted as she fiddled with the button of his jacket. “It’s just-”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Jason interrupted with a quick glance her way. His lips quirked into a small smile. “I was the one who rushed you into it. I should have figured you wouldn’t be ready.”

Okay, what the hell did that mean?

She had a feeling there was an undertone of pity or sarcasm or condescension in that statement from him, and she had to grit her teeth to squelch the bitter taste of irritation that filled her mouth.

“Well sorry I can’t be like Celina,” she muttered. So much for controlling herself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked; a brow raised as if unable to believe she made that statement in the first place. “What’s Celina got to do with anything?”

“What exactly did you mean by ‘you figured I wouldn’t be ready anyway’? What are you trying to suggest? That I’m some…some…”

“Virgin?” he offered with an amused expression on his visage, which wasn’t reciprocated by the furious female beside him.

“Come on, Stephanie,” he cajoled, trying to reach her, only for his hand to be slapped away angrily. “I was just kidding.”

“It’s not funny,” she pouted; trying to resist him wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her against his body. She struggled a little, but eventually caved in with a smile when she felt his lips against her neck and his whispered words of apology.

“You’re ten million times better than Celina,” he murmured into her ear before placing baby kisses against it. “You are a classy, sophisticated, smart, sexy girl, and that’s why I fell in love with you.”

There it was again. Falling in love…but...wasn’t it too fast? They had only known each other for three months, and in that time their meetings had involved him either coming to watch her games or talking on the phone. Their conversations hadn’t even been that thought-provoking either. It almost always involved him courteously asking about her day, and she asking about his, or listening to him whine and complain about something that happened in his class. Unlike her, he wasn’t a boarder at his school and couldn’t relate to anything she was experiencing within the confines of this prison.

He would talk of all the places he and his buddies would go to have fun, and the jealous side of her did have to wonder if he ever hung out with other bimbos when she wasn’t around. In fact…

“I want us to spend more time together,” she blurted out, causing him to still the kisses he had been placing on her shoulder (he had long slid off the jacket to expose her flesh to his hungry gaze and lips).

“Hmm?” he asked in bemusement.

She turned a little, forcing him to stop his ministrations, and meeting his gaze head on, she repeated herself. “I want us to get to know each other better, Jason. You said you wished you had known me for a long time, right? Well…” She reached out to caress his strong jaw and the outline of his lips with a finger. “I think we should start doing that now instead of jumping straight into sex.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” he asked slowly. “I mean you can’t skip school and-”

“I’ll spend the entire summer with you.”

“What?”

It was a rash and sudden decision, but she knew (and hoped) it would strengthen their bond in the long run. “We can spend the entire summer together. You’ll be going off to college when it’s all over, and I’ll be a senior then, right?” She moved closer to whisper against his lips. “I think it would be a great way to explore our feelings for each other.”

She paused when she noticed his expression wasn’t that enthusiastic, and she pulled away a little to eye him in bemusement. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want me to join you?”

“I don’t mind,” he said quickly. “It’s just…well…I usually spend my summers at the Hamptons with some family friends. I don’t know if you’d want to go all the way there just to-”

“I’ve been to the Hamptons before,” she said with a wave of her hand. “It’s not some foreign place to me. But I guess you don’t want me there so that’s fine-”

“Don’t say that,” he groaned; pulling her to him again to bury his face against her neck. “You know I’d want you there no matter what.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I mean it. I more than mean it. If you don’t come then…then I’ll forget the whole thing. I won’t go at all.”

She smirked and rubbed his arm gently. “You’d do that for me?”

“Anything for you, baby.”

She giggled and allowed him to nuzzle her playfully before halting his wandering hands (they had begun to reach for her breast again). “Not tonight,” she warned.

“Stephanie…” he whined, but dutifully pulled away if only to allow her to take charge as she cupped his cheeks to seize his lips in another kiss. Perhaps not as passionate as the one they had shared earlier, but enough to leave him aching for what could possibly be.

Shit. Was it summer already? He just couldn’t wait.

__

We would never tire
And that little fire
Is still alive in me
It will never go away
Can't say goodbye to yesterday

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

Celina, who had been sitting on Stephanie’s bed painting her toenails with some clear polish (so as not to irk the Sisters), stopped to eye her friend with mingled expressions of exasperation and disbelief.

“You mean to tell me that that hunkalicious, bodacious dreamboat tried to make out with you and you said ‘no’?! Oh my God. You sooo need prayers, Stephanie.”

“Do I?” she chuckled and flipped the page of her algebra textbook to get to the next question of her assignment.

“You just don’t know how lucky you have it,” Celina grumbled as she blew on her toes to aid in the drying process. “If I had him, I’d be bumping and grinding that boy until he begged me to stop.”

“It’s good to know your whorish attributes haven’t lessened in the slightest.”

“My whorish attributes make me enjoy life. You have this stick up your ass that you just refuse to get rid of.”

Stephanie gripped her pen tightly and kept her mouth shut, not trusting herself to say anything at this point or she might really lay it on Celina.

“I mean, geez,” the blonde continued; not in the slightest deterred that her audience was seething at the moment. “You have it all. The looks, the hair, the popularity, and then you manage to snag Mr. Hot and Sexy all to yourself and yet you refuse to give him the one thing he desperately needs. Can I have him for a weekend?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s clear you don’t know what to do with him, so let me educate -”

“You leave Jason alone,” Stephanie bit back coldly, now turning around in her chair to face the other girl. “Go find another ex-con to have sex with.”

“Zeke is not an ex-con!”

“Oh? He definitely looks like one.”

Celina’s eyes narrowed. “You are such a bitch, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” came the stilted reply. “Why are you in my room anyway? Can’t you do that shit in yours?”

“It’s called grooming, and I’m doing it here because it’s a free country.” She smacked a little louder on the gum she was chewing and wiggled her toes at Stephanie. “By the way, when’s your prissy roommate coming back? She’s been sick for like a fucking week. Know what I think?”

“I don’t really give a shit what you th-”

“I think she’s preggers,” Celina declared anyway; her eyes gleaming with wicked delight. “Did you see the way she was throwing up…no wait, that was only me, but yeah, she was throwing up like hell in the bathroom-”

“Because she had food poisoning!”

“Riiight. Believe that weak lie if you want, but I know the truth. My sources never lie.”

Stephanie imagined Celina’s sources to be hounds from hell or crazy bitches like her, but either way -

“You’ve overstayed your welcome,” she said aloud. “I have to study. So leave.”

“Hell naw! I haven’t done my nails yet.”

“Fuck your-!”

“Speaking of which, can I come to the summer at the Hamptons with you guys?” she asked with a coy expression. “My parents have this booooooring plan for me to go to France…or was it Greece…but anyway, I just want to spend it with kids my age and this Hampton thing sounds so posh.”

Stephanie drummed her pen on the desk; her patience wearing thin. The last thing she wanted was for Celina to hang around her all summer long, but then again, maybe having Celina around would make Jason realize just how good he really did have it with her. Compared to Celina’s blatant sexual overtures, Stephanie decided she would play it cool and ‘classy’, so whenever their big moment came, Jason would appreciate it even more.

“Will your parents be okay with it?” she queried.

Celina’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Would they? Hell, they don’t even have to know. They just dump me at the airport, say goodbye, and don’t want to know if I exist until I return.”

“Ceeeeelinaaaa…”

“All right, fine. I’ll let them know.” She tsked and went back to eyeing her toes. “God, you’re such a party pooper, Stephanie.”

“Fuck you too, bitch,” came the retort that was surprisingly without much venom in it.

Celina stuck out her tongue at the back of her friend’s head and tried to hide her smile of amusement. “Right back at you, Miss Prude.”

For though there were times when she felt she ought to slap Stephanie a few times, Celina did have to confess that she was the only girl who could put up and deal with her attitude.

And in the grand scheme of things, she would really have it no other way.

__

No regrets
But I wish that you
Were here with me
Well then there's hope yet

Los Angeles
Fall 1991

Should she feel guilty?

No…not really. What was there to feel guilty about?

It had been a spur of the moment thing; a blind moment of passion between two willing parties. Neither of them could have controlled it even if they wanted to, and the end result had been a mind-blowing night she was never going to forget for as long as she lived.

She smiled softly to herself as she brushed her hair, reliving every minute of their frenzied lovemaking in the cabin. She could still feel his strong, steady hands roaming all over her body, the way he had squeezed her breasts and made them deliciously sore with all the kneading, and even better the way he had gone down on her. God help her! Only about two guys she had dated so far had been able to make her come so hard with just their lips and tongue, but Jason seemed to be a pro at it. For a guy who was sorta nerdy (after all he didn’t really play any sport besides a stint in the swim team during his freshman and sophomore years), he definitely did know how to please a lady.

It was just a damn shame Stephanie could not appreciate his other talents.

“She had it coming,” she whispers at her reflection, trying to justify the pang of guilt that refused to go away.

And yes, Stephanie did deserve it. Poor Jason had just about drooled all over himself for the first few weeks, of their summer vacation, as she had teased him with her one piece or two-piece suits. Celina hated to admit that Stephanie’s body proportions were a lot better than hers; it was why she had wanted to get those breast implants so she wouldn’t look so flat. But anyway, Stephanie seemed more content with only playing around with Jason, and Celina would watch as she’d push him away when he became too frisky and wanted to do a lot more than a simple kiss.

What else was a girl like her to do?

Jason needed help, and she had offered her services. That was it.

Okay, so a little alcohol had been involved, and maybe if she was in her right mind she might have considered putting a stop to it, but Jason hadn’t been all innocent either, and she was sure he wasn’t that drunk too.

“I’ve been watching you,” he had confessed as they sat on the deck of the now empty yacht (everyone else had gone back to the house for the night).

“Watching me?” she giggled and took a swig of her beer. “Like what you see then?”

She playfully wiggled her chest at him, allowing him a good view of breasts that were barely contained in the bikini top. She had long taken off the protective tee shirt, so he could really see what he was missing.

“I love what I see,” Jason had almost groaned in desperation. “Celina-”

“Shssh,” she had whispered, placing a finger against his lips as she noticed the darkened look in his eyes. “Don’t talk…show me…love me…take me…”

And boy, had he taken her or what? It was a damn miracle no one had walked onto the yacht to catch them in the act, but she doubted it would have stopped them anyway.

“We can’t tell Stephanie about this,” he had murmured against her breasts as they lay in weary satiation about an hour later.

“Of course not. She’s my friend,” Celina had agreed quickly. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Some friend you are,” Jason chuckled and licked at a nipple, sending a shiver of delight down her spine. “You just fucked her boyfriend, and you claim to be her friend.”

“Shut up, asshole,” she taunted, raising her knee a little to rub it hard against his already stirring penis. His low moan was music to her ears, and she was eager to go for another round. “You’re no saint either.”

“I don’t want to break up with her though,” he whimpered, darting out a tongue to taste the sweat off her skin. He pinched her sore nipple gently and rubbed it between his fingers, ignoring the low hiss this elicited. “She’s one of a kind.”

“Way to make me feel special.”

“You are special…just…different from her, that’s all.”

Celina tried to mask the hurt. She knew exactly what he meant. It was the way most guys felt when it came to Miss. Perfect Stephanie. The girl was as frigid as Antarctica in winter, and yet these men seemed to want to drool all over her. She didn’t get it. What was it about Stephanie that made these men such fools? Here she was…ready, willing, and able to give them what they wanted, and yet, she was treated as nothing more than a pillow to rest their heads on or stick their dicks into.

“Get off me,” she growled, hating her voice for sounding close to tears.

“Hey,” Jason protested; wondering what he had said. “Oh come on, I thought we were just going to-”

“Oh, fine, just use me and then run back to your perfect girlfriend who…mmmphff!”

He silenced her with a hard kiss, pushing her back to the bed and pinning her down so she couldn’t move, though she tried to struggle fruitlessly. Her resolve weakened when his fingers found the moist heat between her legs again, and she pretty much forgot all about her hurt feelings when he buried himself to the hilt inside of her.

She must have come like…three times that night. A fucking record.

“Celina?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of her name; eyes darting towards the door where Stephanie stood ready for Chapel.

“What’s taking us so long?”

Does she know? Does she suspect something? We both did our best to act as if everything was okay, and though it killed me to see you both laughing and smiling, it made it all worthwhile knowing I could have him in the wee hours of the morning. He was mine then, Stephanie. All mine, body and soul – something you’ll never have with him.

“I’ll be ready in a minute, Miss. Senior Vice President.”

Stephanie gave her the middle finger and blew a kiss before leaving with a light wave. “Just hurry up. Sister Tessa’s already beginning to bitch.”

“All right, all right. Gimme five more minutes already.” Though she was talking to the air as Stephanie had already left.

She turned to her reflection again and eyed the girl looking back at her; that girl with the dirty blonde hair and sea-green eyes in a face that would be considered pretty if it wasn’t hardened with the many lives she had lived so far.

I hate myself.

“Urgh.”

And reaching for her lipstick, she did her darnest best to rub out the face that mocked her, leaving nothing but a blood red smear of rough circles –

A weak yet desperate cry for help.

__

Boston, Massachusetts
Spring 1994

“Maybe I was just too stupid,” came the low groan as Stephanie buried her face against her raised knees. “I mean...I suspected something, but I guess I was just trying to hide the facts at the time. Celina would have never dared to do something like that to me, right?”

“We live and learn, Stephanie,” Cheryl replied with a small smile as she reached out to rub her friend’s shoulder gently. “What did we know back then anyway? We were pretty stupid in high school, weren’t we?”

Stephanie chuckled weakly; appreciative of the back rub she was receiving. “You make it sound like we graduated twenty years ago.”

Cheryl giggled. “Feels like it though, doesn’t it?”

She shifted her weight on the lounge chair; her very pregnant belly displayed beneath the pretty Missoni print dress. She was due in another month or so, and unlike her first pregnancy when she was still unsure and naïve, this time around, she and Brandon were most definitely ready to welcome their second child. What was even better was having Stephanie stopping by every now and then from her chaotic schedule to visit during the weekends, and both women enjoyed shopping and doing ‘girly’ things with their little ones in tow.

She smiled softly as she watched Stephanie’s son, David, pushing around a tow truck in the playpen with her son, Brandon Jr., who was busy trying to assemble his toy blocks. Though they were just a year apart, they could almost pass for brothers with their quiet interaction.

“Can I be honest about something?” Cheryl asked as she drummed her fingers lazily on her stomach.

“Sure...what is it?”

The redhead pouted her lips as she thought of how to phrase this without sounding too...well...bitchy.

“I really didn’t think Celina was a good friend to you from the beginning. I mean, I know she had her good parts, but I just seemed to get the feeling she was only using you...as you were using her I guess...”

Her voice trailed off as afraid she must have hurt Stephanie’s feelings, and she darted a quick and concerned glance at her friend to be sure. However, Stephanie hadn’t moved a muscle. Her face was still buried against her raised knees, and if anything, her shoulders seemed to sag a little as if in defeat.

Finally, and after what seemed like an eternity, Stephanie lifted her head to rest her chin upon her knees. Her gaze was distant, but her voice clear.

“I see what you’re saying, and for a while, I did seem get the sense that she was a complete and total waste of my time, but...”

The sudden memory of her impromptu meeting with Celina outside the gates of St. Patrick on that fateful night, reminded Stephanie of what she had really seen in the other girl to begin with. That despite her brash attitude and bratty behavior, was a girl who was only seeking someone to love her; no matter how she went about getting it. Battered and bruised both physically and emotionally from the men she engaged herself with, the stubborn girl had held her chin high in stupid defiance.

From the little Stephanie had seen of Celina’s parents, they were hardly ever around to give their daughter the attention she craved, and being an only child had made things even worse. Celina’s cries for help had gone unheeded because they were all self-centered teenage girls each with their own baggage to carry. Who had time to listen to anyone else’s problems, though the hints had been there all the time; right in their faces:

“My parents are dropping me off at Aspen for the holidays...as usual.”
“My parents don’t give a shit anyway, so they just forget I’m wherever and only want to know when I’m coming back.”
“They won’t care if I’m gone. So can I hang out with you guys instead?”
“It’s okay. I can max out their AmEx and all I’ll get is a lecture and that’s it.”

I’m so sorry, Celina. Now...after all these years, I can finally understand how painful it must have been for you.

“Stephanie?” came the question of concern. “Are you oka-?”

“Cheryl...”

“Hmm?”

“You once said that you couldn’t see the real me when we were high school...at least until Michael showed up, right?”

Cheryl nodded in agreement. “Yes-”

“Don’t you think the same thing happened with Celina? Don’t you think we were just turning a blind eye to her problems as well?”

Cheryl bit her lower lip and toyed with the edge of her dress in thought. Perhaps Stephanie was right. Perhaps Celina had needed the help, but...how could she explain to her friend that a part of her – a very cold and uncaring part of her had actually wanted Celina to suffer? There were other ways to channel one’s loneliness and being a mean girl was not always the way to go. So in a way...

“I’m awful,” she finally admitted with a shaky laugh; unable to look at Stephanie as she said this. “But I swear that a part of me was actually glad she died.”

“Cheryl!”

“I know, I know, it’s terrible of me. but...” She gave Stephanie a sheepish look tinged with determination, though her eyes were too bright. “It’s the way I felt. She made so many people unhappy, wanting to drag everyone else into her misery, and I hated it. I was so glad you two broke up and you finally realized what she had done to you, and what she was trying to do to you and Michael and...and...I was just glad, okay? So go ahead and hate me now if you want. I don’t care.”

Which would not explain why she was suddenly bursting into tears at her impassioned speech.

Without saying another word, Stephanie got off her chair to kneel beside Cheryl’s; her arms wrapping around her sobbing friend’s trembling shoulders as she tried to provide the comfort she so desperately needed.

“I’m...I’m ruining your shirt,” came the hiccuped comment after she was all cried out and emotionally spent. She pulled back a little to eye the wet patch she had created on Stephanie’s tee-shirt, which was cute and corny in a way because it had the face of the man she married on it.

Stephanie glanced at it and shrugged with a smile. “It’s nothing. It will dry...unless you have bionic tears or something.”

Cheryl giggled and blushed as Stephanie reached out to brush away the tears from her cheeks.

“I love you so much, Stephanie,” she whispered shyly as she clasped the other woman’s hands tightly. “...in a completely platonic way I’m saying.”

Stephanie laughed and leaned close to place a chaste kiss on Cheryl’s lips. “And I love you too. Maybe in our next lives, I can come back as a man, and I’ll hit on you.”

The redhead turned crimson and tried to swat at Stephanie playfully. “You wish you could hit on me.”

There was a long companionable pause as they watched their boys play before Cheryl asked again.

“...seriously though, if you were like that, would you find me attractive?”

“What kind of a conversation are we having anyway?” came the incredulous statement.

“I’m just curious,” Cheryl whined. “I would do you. Honestly.”

“Cheryl!”

“Really. I would...if I were a man.”

“Thank God you aren’t then.”

“I’m good in bed...Brandon says so.”

“I really did not need to hear that.”

“Where are you going? Don’t you want to hear about my sex life?”

“No thank you!” came the distant call as Stephanie had dashed into the house, while trying to stifle her giggles. She was sure Cheryl and Brandon could write up several Penthouse books with their active sex life.

However, it wasn’t until she was in the relative safety of the restroom, did she finally pause to eye her reflection in the mirror. The years had been good to her, and perhaps one could even argue that she had not changed much since her days in high school. But only she could know how each barely visible groove on her skin, or the many stories hidden behind the calm hazel eyes that stared right back at her. It was probably the same thing a certain girl must have seen every time she looked in the mirror.

What kind of a woman would you have turned out to be, Celina? Would you have found yourself a good man now, or would you still roam the earth unsatisfied with your lot? What did you see when you looked at yourself? A complete failure? Or someone with so much promise that would never be fulfilled?

Her reflection seemed to shimmer and in its place was now the familiar sight of the vivacious blonde whom she had once considered friend. With fingers that trembled slightly, Stephanie reached out to caress that face, and was unaware of how hard she was biting her lip to control herself though the tears came anyway. Hot, hard, and nearly making her breathless with its intensity.

May you rest in peace, Celina...and though I never got to say this while you were still alive...

I forgive you.