Rites of Spring Break (Part 1)
By Beryl Greenfield

Dana Diamond, a sheltered teenage homeschooler, is looking to experience "the real world" at a sleep-away debate camp. When he mistakenly boards a bus full of co-eds headed for spring break in Miami, he finds himself thrown across the gender divide and into the middle of a bacchanalia beyond his wildest imaginings.

-.-.-

This was it, Dana thought as he loaded his bag onto the bus. He was standing on the cusp of his first taste of real freedom, away from the watchful eyes of his parents. Two whole weeks at a debate camp in Little Rock, and a secular camp at that! Dana could hardly guess at the people he might meet there, the things he might learn... Of course, of course, he'd also enjoy improving his debate technique, and competing in the intra-camp tournament. In fact he'd been up half the night checking and rechecking all his notes on the sociopolitical ties between Lebanon, Syria and Iraq. But he was most looking forward to meeting new people.

Dana's social circle, if one could call it that, had been severely limited for as long as he could remember. When Dana was two, his father was struck by an epiphany, one he often recounted in rapturous detail. He accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior, taking up Evangelicism with a fervor common to converts the world over. So when the time came for kindergarten, Dana's father decided that the nearby schools were sorely deficient and a corrupting influence on Dana's young mind to boot, and that he should be homeschooled. Dana's mother privately doubted the corrupting power of local schools, but she conceded the point about their quality and agreed to take charge of Dana's education.

Having no siblings, then, Dana's only real peer group was the half-dozen kids around his age who went to the same church. They were all perfectly nice, (a few were even fun,) but, being homeschooled themselves, they were just as insulated from the outside world as he was. Dana had gleaned bits and pieces of life beyond the Gospel from his schoolwork, and from furtive internet research during his alotted study time, but it didn't add up to a complete picture. Dana respected his father's guidance, but still he yearned to know: what were they like? The unsaved, that is. He was now just a ten-hour bus ride from finding that out firsthand.

Suffice it to say, Dana had never felt more excited. He had never felt more nervous, never felt more determined, never felt more distracted, never felt... more like he needed to pee. Immediately, if not sooner. There was no way he could hold it 'til the next stop, he would just burst. The bus was scheduled to leave in five minutes. But the passengers had only just begun checking in with the driver and shuffling on board. If he made a mad dash for it, he could return quickly enough that they wouldn't have to wait up for him. Dana really didn't want to anger the bus driver or other passengers, but this was urgent.

The only problem with the plan, Dana realized as he rushed away from the bus, was that he had no idea where the nearest bathroom was. There wasn't one by the open-air bus terminal, and his knowledge of the town's layout was sketchy at best, so he had run off in a more or less random direction. Athens, Georgia was a solid half an hour away from the small town where Dana's family lived. Even though his father taught at the university there, Dana himself rarely set foot in Athens. His father held an even dimmer view of the college town's morals than he did those at the local K-12 schools. His mother took him there every now and again, usually when his father was away at a conference. But he had no mental map of the town whatsoever.

Dana might have appreciated his difficulties in finding a bathroom as funny in a farcical kind of way, were it not for his intense physical discomfort. The first two were singles with no sign of a vacancy anytime soon, the third was closed due to flooding, and the fourth had been converted into an installation art piece. When, at the very end of his rope, he entered a coffee shop whose bathroom was customers only, he considered pulling an example cup off the counter and letting loose. Instead he ordered, sure, whatever the daily special was, yes with milk, regular milk not soy, yes whipped cream, yes grande size, here's the money now give me the confounded key!

Dana's relief at emptying his bladder was almost matched by his relief upon returning to the terminal. Not only was the bus still parked there, but a few people were still lined up to get onto it. His frenzied search hadn't even slightly inconvenienced them! Granted, that meant either the driver was incompetent or some other hold-up had occurred, but Dana wasn't inclined to ask questions at this point. He hurried over to the line and waited for the others to board.

"Last name?" The bored-looking bus driver didn't even glance up from his clipboard.

"Um, Diamond."

"Mmmmmhm. There we go. That's everyone."

As Dana stepped on the bus, the adrenaline from the run started ebbing and his nerves started going into overdrive. What would all these strangers think of him? Dana knew he didn't cut a very confident figure, even when he wasn't sweaty and winded. Puberty had not yet made its presence felt – a few stray pubic hairs and his voice cracking every once in a blue moon gave him hope that it was in the offing, but he had a ways to go. Dana was just past five-foot-one and maybe topped a hundred pounds after Thanksgiving dinner. His musculature could be charitably described as 'developing': he still carried a bit of 'puppy fat' despite being fairly light. That was one reason Dana didn't much mind being homeschooled up through high school – he didn't relish the idea of gym classes with a bunch of boys who'd mostly sprouted up and bulked out already.

Dana was dressed with comfort in mind, knowing he'd spend most of the day on a bus, (not that he prided himself on being stylish anyway.) His orange Georgia hoodie, handed down from his father, was much too big for him, stopping about halfway down his thighs. He thought the hoodie helped make him look a little larger by a kind of transitive property, but in fact it only emphasized how small he was.

His favorite pair of jeans, on the contrary, were a bit small for him now, clinging to his calves and just barely making it down to his ankles. They were still supremely comfy, faded almost to white in some spots after years of constant wear. Dana didn't much care for his powder blue tennis shoes, but it was hard finding shoes he liked in his size. At least they fit well.

Really the only part of his appearance that Dana thought could be called "cool" was his hair. He had been growing it out for some time now in emulation of his favorite musician, John Lennon. His father had objected strenuously, both on the grounds of tidiness and of Lennon's status as a blasphemer and a heathen. Here was a sure sign, the household's over-permissiveness with regards to secular music was eroding Dana's moral fiber! But Dana's mother had supported him, quietly reminding his father of those two traveling preachers with their impressive discourse on Scripture. They both had hair well past their shoulders and it hadn't lessened their commitment to God's Word one whit. His father had begrudgingly allowed Dana to keep growing his hair out, so long as it was kept clean and pulled back.

After his parents dropped him off at the terminal, he'd let his hair fall free. Dana's straight, straw-blonde hair was just at his shoulders now. He hoped the rockstar-inspired look would help him seem like less of a dweeb. The rest of the bus probably wasn't fooled at all though, he bet they'd started judging him as soon as he stepped on board. Okay, okay, breathe, just have to keep calm and collected–

Just a few steps down the aisle, Dana was tripped up by a shoelace that had come loose while running. He only avoided falling flat on his face by catching himself on the shoulder of a tall red-headed girl.

"Watch it, bitch," she spat, then immediately turned back to chat with her neighbor. Dana stammered an apology, fumbled to retie his shoe and hurried toward the back of the bus. So much for calm and collected: his heart was beating out of his chest. At least the other passengers were mostly too preoccupied with conversations or their cell phones to notice him blushing. There was only one open seat left, nearly all the way back. He slid onto the firm but comfortable seat and glanced over at his neighbor by the window.

Dana barely suppressed a gasp at the sight of his seat-mate – in his eyes she was downright intimidating, easily the most secular-looking person he'd ever met. Her wavy black hair was cut into a choppy, asymmetrical bob and was dyed here and there with streaks of purple. She had steel 1/4" plugs stretching her ears, as well as a silver stud above one nostril. Her eyeliner was thick, dark and immaculately smudged. She wore a crimson hoodie with a grinning imp covered in tattoos on the front, a knee-length black skirt and tights patterned to resemble a rusty chain-link fence. She had her feet tucked under the seat as she leaned forward, tapping away intently on her phone.

Noticing Dana's arrival, she sped up her typing to finger-blurring speeds and after a few moments she stuck her phone in her purse. She turned to Dana with a smile so warm and open that it immediately set him at ease, despite his initial impression.

"Hmm, I don't think I know you... first-year, right? Are you one of Jill's friends?"

Dana was at a loss for words for a while. She'd expected to possibly know him? And she guessed this was his first year going to the debate camp? And she knew Jill? That couldn't all just be a coincidence: surely she, too, was going to the same camp! She seemed a few years older than him, but they had campers up through twelfth grade so that wasn't too surprising. Dana had hoped that there would be others on the bus heading to Little Rock for the same reason, if only as something to connect over once they arrived, but to end up by chance next to a fellow camper – that was a stroke of luck! Maybe he'd make a friend before he even got to camp. She seemed nice, even if she was lightyears more hip than he was.

"Uhhhhm, yes," he managed at last. "Well-uh, I used to be, until..."

Jill had been one of his closer friends from church, ever since they were little. But when Dana was ten, Jill's father had a heated falling-out with other prominent church members, Dana's father included. Jill's family had left the church and moved away. Dana hadn't heard from Jill since. But before he could come up with the words to explain, his neighbor had already cut in.

"Ahhh, say no more, say no more, I know exactly what that bitch is like. Fickle as fuck – you're her number-one chick one week and then like, she freezes you out the next over some trifling BS. I wasn't going to say anything, y'know, but no lost love between us, either. And the fucking rumors she's spread about some of my friends..."

His seat-mate went on to recount an expletive-laden list of all the various nastiness that Jill had instigated against her or her friends. Dana, feeling confused and not a little uncomfortable, could only nod quietly as she vented. He didn't understand half of what she was saying, but what he did catch didn't sound anything like Jill. Then again, he hadn't seen her in over five years, so who knew how she'd changed? At any rate, there was no way he was going to raise objections to his neighbor's take on Jill: the bad blood clearly ran deep.

"Anyway, fuck her, forget her. There's like, tons of chill people on the trip, we will have no problem steering clear of her and her fake clique." She let out a long breath, rolled her shoulders, and then broke into a easy grin. "Look at my dumb ass, haven't even introduced myself yet! I'm Celia, Celia Caine, but everyone calls me CeCe."

She put her hand up to shake, but it was at an odd angle Dana had never seen used before. Instead, he ended up grabbing her wrist. His face flushed a deep red, but CeCe just shrugged it off with a goodnatured laugh.

"Um, Dana, I'm um, Dana Diamond, nice-to-meet-you-Cece." He couldn't look her in the face, couldn't look at the rest of her body, so he just looked at the window past her shoulder.

"Ohhh my God, really? Like that is so funny! Dana Diamond: Dee Dee! This is like, seriously fated, I swear..." Without warning, CeCe went in for a hug. Feeling a little light-headed, Dana's arms hung awkwardly at his sides until she broke away.

"And I mean that, Dee Dee – do you mind if I call you Dee Dee? – I truly believe everything happens for a reason, y'know?" Dana nodded; he knew God's hand was behind all that transpired on Earth, though he couldn't begin to guess why He meant for Dana to meet CeCe. She was certainly one of the stranger agents of His Divine Will.

"See, like, one of my closest, closest friends in grade school and middle school was Beatrix Bamford – Bebe. Then she like had to move, we lost touch, y'know, all that, but I've always thought I'd meet her counterpart, right, on the flip side of my name? But I've never met a single Dee Dee in all the years since! And like, it's not that uncommon of a combination, right? And so when you sat down, something clicked, y'know? Like I'd already met you somehow. And like now I know why."

Dana was not following her line of reasoning at all, but she spoke with such breathless conviction that he couldn't help nodding in agreement.

"Oh! Oh! And I just had my tarot read last night, y'know, to see like what to watch out for on the trip, and it definitely mentioned encountering 'a kindred spirit.' I thought maybe that meant like, a guy kind of kindred spirit, hehe, but like now I think that must mean you, Dee Dee."

Wait, tarot? He'd suspected CeCe was 'unsaved,' but tarot was a whole other can of worms.

"Tarot is the devil's instrument," Dana said, almost automatically. But CeCe just giggled and punched Dana lightly on the shoulder.

"You are such a hoot! Yeah, I'm like, totally consorting with demons and vile spirits through the tarot. And Satan's writing my horoscope, too."

Dana was dead serious. But CeCe's amusement was so infectious, he cracked a smile in spite of himself.

"And wait, wait – your last name is Diamond? Are you like, related to Rosie Diamond by any chance? Cousins? You like, kinda look like her, now that I think of it..."

Dana shook his head firmly. His mother was an only child, and his father had only one sister, who had never married (much to his father's disapproval.)

"Hmm, well like maybe you're secret cousins somehow! Like someone was adopted or estranged or something. There's a really strong resemblance, y'know. Rosie and I are are super tight, y'know, like this..." CeCe gestured by crossing her index and middle finger together. "I should like, introduce you two when we get back, actually! Rosie is like, chiller than chill. She was like supposed to come with me on the trip, but like... she got mono. Ugggh, right?" Dana grimaced along with CeCe, even though he didn't know what mono was. It sounded bad, the way she said it.

"Yeahhh, she's been like, completely laid out lately, like she can barely leave her bed." CeCe pulled a slight smirk. "Not that she left her bed that much before, y'know?" She arched an eyebrow and looked at Dana meaningfully, clearly expecting some kind of response.

"Uhhm, you mean... she, um, sleeps around the clock?"

Dana must have said something right, because CeCe grinned and tapped his shoulder. "Yeah, riiight? She 'sleeps around' the calendar, too! Haha, I'm like such a bitch, I know – no though, I like, love that girl to death, really, she's such a sweetheart. It's just like – with all the spit and spunk she's swapping, she's lucky mono was all she got, y'know? No, but really-really, Rosie's the best, the absolute best, you have to meet her." CeCe put her hand against Dana's shoulder to reassure him, as he'd started to look totally lost.

Then CeCe cocked her head and smiled, in a way that reminded Dana a little of his mother. "So like, let me ask you, Dee Dee: what d'you want to get out of this trip?"

Here, finally, was a topic Dana had something of a grip upon. Still he fumbled a bit over his words as he replied, "Oh, well um, I guess just um, to learn and... grow a little, ya know? And uhhh, to meet people, I suppose, too. Ohh, and I'm excited about the tournament also, for sure..."

CeCe scrunched her face up some, then snapped her fingers. "Ohhh, you mean the Beirut tournament?" Dana nodded slowly. The debate tournament wasn't only about Lebanon, but he supposed it wasn't too much of a stretch to call it a Beirut tournament.

"Okay, okay – sorry, I just didn't peg you as into that kind of thing, y'know? Have you like, even been in that level of tournament before?" Dana shook his head ruefully. "No, that's totally cool – I think you could go on a serious hot streak, with a bit of beginner's luck! Just like, maybe I'll give you some pointers before, is all? Not to brag, but like, I've got more than a little experience in that area."

Dana flat out beamed at CeCe: he could barely believe he'd not only met someone going to the same camp on the bus, but also someone willing to coach him through his first serious debate tournament too!

"Haha, woah, you're really set on this tournament, huh? But it's not like, uh, that cool of a prize or anything... are you looking to impress someone, maybe, ehh?" CeCe quirked her eyebrow again and smirked at Dana. He turned his gaze toward the floor and blushed.

"Well um, no-one in particular..." Dana was sure his parents would be thrilled if he placed high in the tournament. And if some (pretty) girl found him cool too – CeCe, even? No, she was cute but seemed a little too wild for him to consider more than a friend – well, that would be icing on the cake.

"Right, so just like, whoever comes along then? Yeah, I see you, Dee Dee. I'm not looking to like tie myself down to anyone on this trip, y'know? But yeah, if you've got like a good eye, a good arm, then like, some guys are bound to wonder how good you are at like, other things, mmm?"

Dana was losing track of CeCe's train of thought again. He tried to smile and nod and seem like he knew what she was talking about, but she clearly wasn't convinced. CeCe didn't seem to mind, though. She just giggled and laid her hand back on Dana's shoulder.

"So Dee Dee, not to ride you or anything but like... you sorta look like shit, honey. Like did you sleep at all last night? The night before?"

Dana blinked and thought, Well... have I? He frowned a little and shook his head. He had caught a couple of hours of sleep two nights ago. But last night, he had been so jazzed that he had more or less been up the whole night, making sure he hadn't forgotten to pack anything and going over his notes for fresh angles on the debate topic. Dana felt tired down to the marrow of his bones, but between the rocky motion of the bus and the caffeine in that peppermint mocha from the coffee shop, there was no way he was getting to sleep anytime soon.

"Um, not really, no, but I can't get to–"

"Hold on: I have just the thing."

CeCe reached into her purse and quickly procured a small plastic baggie filled with blue-green capsules. She tapped one into her palm and held it out to Dana.

"Here, 10 migs of Sonata. You'll sleep like a fucking baby, no problem."

"Uhhhhhh... is it, um, safe?" Dana had very little experience with pills apart from the occasional aspirin. CeCe held it in her hand as though it were a breath mint.

She snorted in response to his question. "Sonata? Like, please. My kid sister's taken it. My 80 year-old granny's taken it. Ever had Nyquil?" Dana had, a few times. "This is like, just a step up from that."

Dana nodded and took the pill from CeCe. He tried swallowing it dry and failed miserably. Then he remembered there was still some peppermint mocha left, and used that to wash it down. CeCe resumed texting on her phone, continuing to chat with (well, more like talk at) Dana. After about fifteen minutes, Dana felt himself sinking into sleep.

-.-.-

"Dee Dee! DEE DEE! Dana? Mission control to Dee Dee: we have reached our destination. So like, wake the fuck up!"

Dana awoke to CeCe standing over him and lightly shaking him. Had he really slept through the whole ten-hour drive? It was dark out now and the bus was empty, so apparently he had. Oddly, he didn't feel all that refreshed. A thick, syrupy fog of drowsiness hung over his head, leaving him slow and confused.

"There you are, sleepyhead. Thought I'd lost you for a minute there! Now like, c'mon, chop chop, everyone else has already checked in and shit. Let's grab our stuff and go!"

Dana shambled off of the bus behind CeCe and went around to the luggage compartment. She pulled a duffel bag, an overstuffed backpack and two pieces of rolling luggage off the bus, then frowned and turned to Dana.

"Ummm, there aren't any more bags here, Dee Dee. You did bring a bag with you, right?" Dana nodded and stared at the empty compartment, baffled but strangely unconcerned. "Ugh, then one of those dumb bitches must have like took yours by mistake."

Dana shook his head slowly. "It um, had a patch with my name on it, big letters across the front. Hard to mistake it."

CeCe pulled a face and nodded. "Plus like, if they mistook your bag for theirs, they would have left their own bag here... fuck, did one of them straight up snatch it, then? Like I know there's some shady motherfuckers on this trip, but like, that's low even for them – or fuck, maybe some rando just walked up and and took it? I've been trying to get you up for like, at least ten minutes and like, it's not like the driver's been watching our shit... fuck! Did anyone mess with my shit?" CeCe zipped open her duffel bag and quickly rummaged through it, then did the same for her other luggage. She seemed satisfied that everything was still in place.

Neither CeCe nor Dana suspected that his bag was, in fact, on a nearly identical-looking bus in another city over a thousand miles away.

"I don't know what to tell you, Dee Dee: that sucks. Look, let me go check in, and then I'll check in with the other girls and see if like anyone saw anything, or like if they did anything. And like, if one of them took it, I will know, and I'll fuck them up, don't worry. But like yeah, my money's on some random jackass jacking your shit. Fuck, like, just chill here, okay? I'll be quick."

CeCe shouldered the backpack and duffel, grabbed one piece of rolling luggage in each hand and rushed into the hotel, (or perhaps convention center,) where Dana presumed the debate camp was being held. From what he could see of the lobby, the building was much glitzier than he'd expected, with a lot of mirrored sculptures and leather couches. But then, Dana hadn't had any experience with big city hotels, so what did he know?

Dana was still too foggy to take much interest in the bustling street around him – or, for that matter, the recent misfortune that had befallen him. The glare of the LED signs and the distant sound of sirens had the unreality of a dream. Maybe he'd wake up back at home, having not yet left for his trip.

The minutes crawled by. Soon enough, CeCe came back outside with just her oversize purse on her shoulder. She shrugged and said, "Yeah, no luck. No-one saw shit, and if any of them did take it, they're like, way too cold-blooded to admit it. Sorry, Dee Dee."

CeCe sighed, then abruptly drew in close and put her hand on Dana's shoulder. He flinched, but CeCe didn't seem to notice. "Look, we're gonna get through this, okay? Losing your shit sucks, but like... it's just things, y'know? Like, what you own doesn't define you as a person, right? It's just there to like help you along 'til it breaks or it's stolen or whatever, and like returns to the earth and decomposes and, y'know, gets swept back up into the universal circulation of energy and all that, you feel me, Dee Dee?" CeCe was starting to get very animated, gesticulating a lot. Dana nodded in agreement, although he was only half-following her.

"And plus really, y'know, if you think about it... this could actually be a good thing for you!" CeCe continued. "Like, now you don't have all that crap tying you to the past anymore – you're like, totally free to do whatever now, reinvent yourself, be reborn. And like this city is the perfect place to experiment, go wild, like there's all sorts of crazy shit going down, y'know?" Dana actually had been planning to go a little out of his comfort zone, but he was definitely not looking for the wholesale 'rebirth' CeCe had in mind. He had to admit though, she made it sound so breezy and natural.

"Oh, and plus: shopping! I was like going to go soon anyway, 'cause the clothes I brought aren't gonna last the whole break, but like now, why wait? I know this great mall, not super far from here, open late, and I swear..."

Dana zoned out completely as CeCe started extolling the mall's many virtues. Questions drifted through his fogged brain: did he have enough money to replace the clothes he lost? He had brought a good portion of his savings with him, a few hundred dollars in cash. There had to be a laundry service in the hotel, or a laundromat nearby, so he only needed a few outfits to make it through the two weeks. Dana puzzled over how CeCe could somehow not have enough clothes packed in her four full pieces of luggage, but he thought it best not to ask.

"... C'mon, let's catch a cab!" CeCe grabbed Dana's arm and pulled him toward the curb. No sooner had a cab pulled over than CeCe's purse began to buzz furiously. She pulled out her phone, flicked it on and let out a long, low breath. "Oh? Ohh. Fuck. Shitfuck. Okay." She waved away the cab. "Look, I'll be like right back, 'kay?" Without waiting for an answer, she dashed back into the hotel.

Five minutes later she returned, a little winded, and hailed another cab. "OK, so, like... something just came up. We... I've gotta meet with this guy like real quick, then we'll hit the mall, cool?"

"Uhhh, shouldn't I go check in with the–"

"Nah, I like already took care of that. You're in the clear, Dee Dee."

It seemed a little odd that the camp directors would let CeCe check Dana in for him, but as Dana was beginning to realize, she could be very persuasive when she wanted to. He nodded his assent and boarded the cab after CeCe.

CeCe gave some directions to the cab driver. He seemed instantly skeptical, expressing his reluctance in no uncertain terms, although because of his accent Dana could only pick up on the tone, not the content, of his response. CeCe fired back heatedly, soon switching to another language that Dana, if he had to guess, would say was Spanish. That would only be a lucky guess on his part, however, as he'd heard little apart from English in his life.

The cabbie remained dubious, but after a couple minutes of CeCe's tirade he threw up his hands and started to drive. Satisfied, CeCe began tapping away at her phone, leaving Dana to stare blankly out the window as the city passed by. The scene meant very little to him: cars going who knows where, people entering or leaving buildings, signs advertising this or that service, the occasional swarm of pigeons or rats. It was all very new and unusual, but Dana couldn't fit it into any kind of coherent picture.

The cars and the people grew sparser, the signs and streetlights grew dimmer, the storefronts grew shabbier and the rats grew bolder. Soon there was no-one around at all except for their cab. They stopped next to an apartment building flanked on both sides by trash-strewn lots.

CeCe asked the cabbie to keep the meter running while she went inside, which he flatly refused to do. She began haranguing him again, calling into question his intelligence, his courage and his mother's virtue, calling him every unpleasant word Dana knew and (presumably) many others he didn't know. But the cabbie was unmovable, coldly repeating his request for their fare. At last CeCe ran out of steam and gave up, handing over just enough to cover the fare. They stepped out into the humid night air.

"So um, Dee Dee: this guy I'm meeting, he's like, kind of private, like shy even, doesn't like to meet new people, y'know? So... just like chill out here while I talk to him and I'll be right back, okay?" Dana shrugged. The weather was nice enough, and even if there wasn't much to see around here, there was no doubt it was very different from his hometown. CeCe gave him a small smile, squeezed his arm, and entered the dilapidated building.

Dana hummed softly to himself as he waited: "All You Need Is Love" by the Beatles. It was one of the few songs by them that his father enjoyed hearing, so long as he reminded everyone that the 'love' in question was that of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. Dana agreed, of course, but he also just thought the melody was catchy.

"Nothing you can know that isn't known / Nothing you can see that isn't shown / Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be / It's easy..."

Dana was distracted by some movement in the corner of his eye. He turned to see that a figure had turned onto the block and was walking in his direction. More like weaving, really, shambling forward with a side-to-side kind of gait. Dana wondered if perhaps this person was also meeting the same guy as CeCe. He resumed humming. "Here Comes the Sun" now, a little ironic he supposed, since the sun had set a couple hours ago.

But the figure did not enter the apartment building. He, (for the figure was a man in a ratty tank-top,) walked right up to Dana and waved a knife in his face. "Gimme the bag, bitch. Now." His breath was the stale stench of malt liquor left to rot in the sun.

Dana didn't respond at first, unable to process what was happening to him. But the man prompted him with "You deaf, bitch? Need me to fix your ears for you?" and Dana pulled off his backpack and handed it over.

"Good bitch. Your phone? Wallet?"

"It's all – everything is in there. Okay?" Dana gestured at his pants pockets, which were too tight to fit anything comfortably and thus were empty. The man nodded and grunted. Then he took Dana roughly by the shoulder, jerked him around, and grabbed at his ass to check the back-pockets. Nothing there either.

"Lucky for you I don't fuck flat bitches. Have a pleasant motherfuckin' evening." And with that, the man stumbled away – with a little more pep in his step, Dana might have noted were he not in the throes of a panic attack.

The adrenaline rush from the robbery mixed with the Sonata hangover left Dana reeling. He lost all sense of time: was it an hour, or only five minutes, before CeCe exited the building to find him shivering in the sticky heat?

"All riiight, Dee Dee, just called us a cab, let's do this thing – what's wrong?"

".... I, I umm, I mean he, this guy um, he, he took my bag."

CeCe had come out of the apartment building with a loose, almost goofy grin on her face. But in an instant, her expression became the perfect picture of crestfallen empathy. She swept Dana up in a close embrace, murmuring softly and stroking the back of his head.

"Ohhh, honey, sweetie, Dee Dee... you got robbed? That's fucking terrible, I'm so sorry, you must be so scared right now, you're shaking like crazy... I am so sorry. You did the right thing, giving it up. It's just stuff, it's not worth your life–"

"But, but the, the bag had all my notes in it," Dana blurted out. He hadn't thought about it in the heat of the moment, but his big binder with all the debate notes for the tournament was in that backpack. It would take ages to replace all his notes, and even then he couldn't be sure he hadn't missed something.

"Notes? Like, school notes?" CeCe laughed in spite of herself, then pulled back some from Dana and kissed his forehead. "Honey.... I could tell you were a little uptight but like, you brought notes on the trip? Look, Dee Dee, when we get back I want you to teach me all your study secrets, 'cause like, clearly you've got that on lock, but right now? Forget your fucking notes, it's time to live, baby!"

CeCe winked and smiled at Dana, but quickly sombered up and pulled him in for another hug. She smelled different, something Dana couldn't quite place: a sort of skunky, smoky aroma.

"But still, ohhhhhh, what a way to start your break, huh? First your luggage gets jacked, then the rest of your stuff? Welcome to MIA, right, where all your shit goes MIA!" She laughed bitterly. "But seriously, this is all my fault. All my fucking fault. I'm such a dumbass! I should never have taken you here, I just thought – well, I wasn't thinking, clearly. Fuck me. I'm so, so, so, so sorry. I've got to be more on top of it."

She loosened the hug to look Dana straight in the face. Her eyes had a look of pure steel to them, filled with a determination little diminished, even enhanced, by how bloodshot they were. They were so red, Dana couldn't help but wonder if she was seriously ill, or perhaps possessed. But CeCe seemed completely calm and in control.

"Dee Dee. Listen to me. Don't worry. I'm gonna make this up to you, okay? And... and..." CeCe took a deep breath and laid her head on Dana's shoulder. Then she straightened up and looked him right in the eye again. "And I never do this – I mean, I've only ever done this when it's really, really, really important. Like... like when I would rather choke on my own tongue than break my word. Like then. Y'know?" Dana did not know. "I swear on the grave of my mother, Maria Camila Caine, I will never let anyone hurt you here. No-one."

A heavy silence hung in the air between them. Dana couldn't say how long they stood there looking at each other. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a black car rolled up in front of them.

"There's our ride! Let's go."

Still a little shaky, Dana climbed into the car after CeCe. She spoke with the driver about their route, then turned to Dana: "Maybe something to take the edge off, hmm? I've got just the thing!" She rummaged around in her purse and pulled out a sizeable steel flask with a mash-up of the Venus symbol and the skull-and-crossbones engraved on the side. After taking a swig, she held it out to Dana. "Have as much as you like, I've got like, gallons more good shit back at the hotel."

Dana took the flask in hand and sniffed at it. "Um, what is this?"

"What, you were expecting the hard stuff? It's schnapps, Dee Dee! You like peppermint?" He nodded.

But what was schnapps? Some kind of soda? Dana didn't want to ask and risk her realizing how little he knew about the world. CeCe had vowed she wouldn't let any harm come to him, and she didn't seem like the type to break her word. So whatever schnapps was, it must be harmless, he reasoned.

Dana took a tentative sip from the flask. It wasn't soda, but it was a syrupy-sweet drink that tasted, as promised, of peppermint. It was actually really tasty! He took a bigger gulp of it, to wash away the bad taste the mugger had left in his mouth.

"Good, huh? – Wait, fuck, you slept through our lunch stop, right? You haven't had shit to eat all day, you must be fucking ravenous!"

"Yeah, um, I guess I am pretty hungry?" He took another slurp of the schnapps.

"Look, don't like drink too much of that on an empty stomach, unless the idea of candy-cane vomit appeals to you. Speaking from experience here." That made sense: too much sweet stuff and nothing else was bound to upset your stomach. "Well fuck, we've like gotta fix that then, huh? The food court at the mall kinda sucks ass – there's a great fucking pizza place not too far though. Does pizza sound good?" Dana nodded. "What toppings do you like? I'll have 'em deliver to the mall, we'll bring it in, no-one'll give a shit."

"Uhhh... sausage, spinach and onion, I guess." That was what his father always ordered when they had pizza.

"Nice picks! I'll call them up now."

-.-.-

An hour later, Dana was feeling much better. The pizza had been terrific, as promised, and nobody batted an eye about them bringing it into the mall. He found it remarkable how many people were still shopping at this hour, since it was almost 8 PM, but it was a Friday after all.

Dana had also made his way through half of the schnapps in the flask. CeCe had recommended mixing it into some cola, and he thought the two tastes did blend quite nicely. He was starting to feel a bit unusual: light-headed, warm and giddy. CeCe had been cracking a lot of jokes, half of which he didn't understand, but he'd laughed at them all anyway. Something about the way she told them was just hilarious. He kept fairly quiet otherwise, but that was fine by her.

"All right!" CeCe said, clapping her hands together. "You ready for some serious shopping, Dee Dee? I mean like, we can always shop more later, but like, let's not half-ass it, y'know? We're not leaving 'til we've got enough fly shit to turn heads and drop jaws for like, at least the next few days."

Dana wasn't sure he wanted any 'fly shit' at all. And turning heads and dropping jaws was more of CeCe's department: he just wanted clothes that would help him fit in with the other campers. "Um, I dunno, CeCe, I uh, just need like some basics to–"

CeCe put a finger up to his lips to shush him. "Dee Dee, listen to me. I get it, you're frugal, and like, I do like that in a friend, but now is like so not the time to be thinking like that. You want to impress people, you dress the part, no matter what your style is, y'know? You walk around in like, just the basics, that sensible safe shit, and like, they'll fuckin' eat you alive out there. I mean, haters gonna hate no matter what, but like, if you're really rocking it and feeling yourself, you're untouchable, y'know? And plus, like, in this town? Just like, strike the word 'basics' from your vocabulary, people don't play like that here. Understand?"

As happened so often when CeCe was making a speech, Dana did not understand. Or rather, he was unable to break her argument down into its component parts and use logic to assess its validity, which was his accustomed mode of understanding. However, the passion behind her words was perfectly clear to him, so in a different sense he did understand her.

"Oh and like, also remember, this is all me, 'kay? I'm the dumbass who let your shit get jacked, so I'm taking care of it. And like, not to be gross about it but like, money is so not even a thing for me right now. I've got stacks for days, you feel me, Dee Dee? So like, don't even look at the price-tag, y'know, if you like it you take it." Dana was glad he wouldn't be a burden on CeCe, but he was also resolved not to take advantage of her generosity.

"Shit, I'm like, such a fucking flake, I just realized: you should cancel your cards like, yesterday, that fucker's probably burning through them like, as we speak. Fuck, did you have a debit card on you?"

"I uh, I don't have any. Cards, I mean, um, credit, debit..." The discussion of credit cards had never even been raised at his house. Dana had never really felt the need: he didn't shop much.

CeCe looked a little taken aback. "So then like, um, you were just gonna use your ATM card to get cash when you needed it?"

Dana shook his head. "My bank's too small to have ATMs in other places."

Now CeCe was the one shaking her head, in disbelief. "That means... you just rolled up here with cash? Straight-up cash. How much?"

"Uhhh, three-hundred twenty-five dollars. And um, fifty cents."

"In bills. Three hundo in bills, and no cards." CeCe threw up her hands and chuckled. "I mean, fuck me, like I'm one to talk, I've got some pants-shitting paper in my purse like right now, but I've also got a fucking g– I mean, I've got a back-up plan, y'know? You were just like, planning to walk around with only cash, for any jackass to snatch?" She let out a long breath. "Stick close to me, 'kay Dee Dee? Like, as you've already seen, this city can be an absolute motherfucker."

CeCe drummed her fingers on the table, thinking. "Okay, no cards then. I'll give you one of mine, for when we split up – hopefully not too often, eh Dee Dee? You'll also need a new phone. There's a good place for them here, like I think they can even switch your number over right in store."

"I... um..." Dana hesitated. "Yeah... uhh, I um..." He knew CeCe would think less of him for this, but he couldn't let her replace a phone he didn't have to begin with. "I didn't, uh, I mean I, I don't own, um, a cell phone."

CeCe made a sound halfway between a cough and a laugh. "Really? No cell? You're not like, fucking with me right now, right? 'Cause you don't sound like you're fucking with me." Dana shook his head and started blushing. "Okay, okay, like chill out though Dee Dee, no judgment here, y'know... but really? Not even like, one of those dinky flip ones? Okay. Sorry, but like I just have to ask: are you Amish? Or like, an anarcho-primitivist or some shit like that? Like, am I breaking your sacred vows by taking you to the mall right now?"

Dana blushed even harder and stared at the table. "Ummm, no, I'm not Amish, but... um, Jesus did say to 'be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of one's possessions.'" That was a passage his father often quoted in arguments about money with his mother.

"Yeah no, like, Jesus sounds like he knew his shit, and like, I totally respect him on that. But," and here CeCe reached out and lifted Dana's chin to look him dead in the eye, "respect me on this: I'm buying you a fucking phone. This is so not up for debate, don't even start, 'kay? It's not about covetousness, it's about safety. Like, what if we get separated or you get lost or something, hmm? Would Jesus want you getting like, dismembered and buried in five different parks? No? Then we're agreed, great!"

CeCe let out a long, slow breath. Then she retrieved the flask from her purse and nonchalantly took a long pull from it. Smacking her lips, she said, "Alright, let's spend some fucking money! One of my favorite spots is like, right over there."

The woman working the register had aquamarine hair and enough metal in her face to fill a shotglass. She gave them the faintest of nods as they entered, then continued fiddling with her phone. Skittering synths and a pulsing beat filled the room, as did racks upon racks of what Dana could only describe as "cool clothes." Too cool for him, really... but there did seem to be some relatively "normal" stuff on the men's side toward the back, hoodies and t-shirts and what looked to be cargo pants. CeCe was busy browsing a jewelry display near the front, so Dana slipped away to that section.

Dana had only just begun considering a couple of t-shirts (one with an angry owl saying "I don't give a hoot," and another with a spikey blue cartoon character he didn't recognize,) when CeCe appeared by his side, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Yeahhh uhh, Dee Dee, I don't know, I mean, like, you do you, right, but like, the whole 'ironic middle-school boy' thing is like, really some next-level shit, y'know, like not that you couldn't rock it but like, I don't know if the rest of the world is really ready, like, you feel me?" She had a somewhat pained expression, so Dana just nodded blankly to reassure her. "Plus like, I mean, like as you obviously, like, know, everything in this stretch of the store is kinda, like, y'know... butch?" Dana wasn't familiar with the term. But it had to mean something serious for CeCe, who used the words "fuck" and "shit" like "the" and "is," to say it so reluctantly.

CeCe's eyes widened and she began gesturing wildly. "Which, oh wait shit, are you gay? I mean, fuck, no like, that's like, totally cool with me, like haha, I like really really so don't even care, like I'm not like, a homophobe or anything, y'know, like, nooo, like I totally know tons of gay people, it's like, not even like a thing for me, it's just, like, umm, like I just umm, didn't think you were like that, y'know?"

Dana felt like all the blood in his body was rushing to his face. CeCe thought he was gay? He had only been looking at some shirts! He was a God-fearing, girl-loving, totally normal American teen. Did his fashion sense seem gay somehow? He didn't even know what gay fashion was – or what fashion was, period, for that matter. Without making eye contact, he stammered out a response: "W-what? Me, g-g-gay? N-no, no, I am not gay, absolutely not. I uhh, I don't even know why you – I just, it's like..." He knew he couldn't say that his mother was still responsible for most of his wardrobe. "I just, uhh, I don't buy many clothes, okay? I don't, uhh, know what's cool, or whatever, that's all..."

He mustered up the courage to look up at CeCe. She looked immensely relieved. Reaching out to pat him on the shoulder, she said, "No like, look, it's okay, Dee Dee. I get it, I totally get it, and you like, so do not need to feel bad about it. Really it's me who, well... I umm, I'm sorry I freaked out on you a little there. I just jumped to conclusions and uh... I was just surprised, y'know? Like, it's like this: I can kinda feel people's auras, right, when I'm around them enough I can like, synch up to their wavelength, catch the vibrations they're giving off, y'know? And so part of that is, like, I have really good gaydar, like I'm basically never wrong. And so, uh, I felt like, totally synched up to you, but I didn't get that vibe from you at all. So I'm like, definitely definitely not homophobic, okay, it's just that I was confused." Dana was confused by the discussion of auras, but he was too relieved that she believed him to ask her about it.

"Love the sinner, hate the sin," he murmured softly. It was a phrase his mother often brought up when his father started ranting about the degeneracy of the modern age.

"Um, yeah! Like Jesus was uh, all about tolerance and shit, right, even if um, certain stuff makes you a little uncomfortable, it's just like, live and let live, y'know?" CeCe sighed. "Glad that's out of the way. But..." Then very suddenly, she gripped Dana by both shoulders and looked at him with a firm gaze. "Dee Dee, you trust me, right?"

"Uh, yes." He trusted her more than he'd ever expected to trust someone he'd known for less than a day.

"You know I've got your back?"

"Yes."

"You know I don't play games?"

"Yes." Dana wasn't sure what she meant by that, but he went along with it.

"Then like, I think I have the answer to your fashion crisis. Which I mean, look, it's NBD, like you were probably too busy studying to go shopping, right, and I respect that, but – you remember what I was saying earlier, about everything happening for a reason, and about misfortune actually being like, an opportunity, and about this being a chance for rebirth?" Dana nodded, for once having an idea of where CeCe was headed. "Well, it's become like, totally obvious to me that we were meant to meet on the bus, and that other stuff that seemed fucking shitty was meant to happen too. I think, no, I know, I'm meant to be, like, the midwife to your rebirth, y'know?" Dana was a little worried by this talk of 'rebirth,' but CeCe was on a roll now, and he didn't see much hope of slowing her down.

"Like, okay, you see me on the street, right, and maybe you're like, I don't know, a fucking prep or a surfer or some shit, like you're not even 'bout that life, y'know, but the point is, you'd still say, 'That is one stylin'-ass bitch,' no question. And plus, okay, not to brag here Dee Dee, but back in the day I used to run this style blog with my bestie Eve – ummm, yeah, former bestie anyway, um, she, well, we –" CeCe cleared her throat and looked away from Dana.

"Anyway that's like really not relevant right now. The point is, we ran this blog, Back Alley Style Surgeons, aka BASS, natch, and it was big. Like, you wouldn't have heard of it, we were like underground, right, but we ran the underground. It's like, we were there before there was even there, you feel me?" Dana made an indistinct sound that CeCe chose to interpret as a sign of understanding.

"All this is to say, when it comes to style, I know my shit, okay? I could write a fucking book, and like, fuck, when I'm done with school I might!" CeCe chuckled, let go of Dana's shoulders, and softly patted him on the head. "So like, don't even stress about not knowing clothes, okay, just leave it all up to me, Dee Dee. I swear, like you won't even believe it's you by the time we're done, you'll be, like, sharp as a fucking razor, y'know?"

CeCe was clearly pleased as punch at the prospect of picking out clothes for Dana. He felt more than a little nervous at the idea – he couldn't look anywhere near as cool as CeCe, could he? Yet another part of him was hopeful, even excited. Maybe it was her enthusiasm rubbing off, (and though he didn't realize it, also the schnapps,) but he felt like everything was going to turn out all right in the end. Besides, he'd already shown himself to be hopeless when it came to choosing clothes, so what better choice did he have?

"Okay, CeCe, I trust you. Um, I leave myself in your hands."

CeCe enveloped Dana in a breath-takingly tight hug. "Yay! Ohh, Dee Dee, I promise you, this is going to be like, so much fucking fun." Dana began to sweat a little, as he couldn't help becoming aware of CeCe's breasts pressing against him. With difficulty, he willed himself to think of anything else. He saw now why his church forbade any contact beyond a handshake between unmarried people of the opposite sex.

Mercifully, the hug soon ended. CeCe stepped back and pursed her lips, giving Dana a close examination. "All right, like we'll deal with your hair first, definitely, like everything sorta has to follow from that. You've got mad split ends, Dee Dee, it's clearly been a while since you've had a trim." This was true; he hadn't had his hair cut since he started growing it out, over a year ago.

"Okay, sure, but um, I don't want it short, y'know?"

"Yeah, not to worry, I'm thinking like, some super minor changes, just enough to make it pop, y'know? A couple inches to even it out, a little shaping and styling and such and, like, some highlights here and there to turn things up a notch, you feel me?" Dana wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, but none of it sounded too drastic, so he deferred to her expertise.

"Great! And the salon on the second floor is the fucking bomb, trust me. If we're lucky, my two favorite chicas in, like, this whole damn city are working tonight."

The salon matched up fairly well to the expectations of Dana, who'd never been in one: a row of chairs and mirrors flanking each side of the sleekly furnished room, and a desk up front with a waiting area. Two chairs were occupied on either side of the room, with three of the four customers getting their nails done and one getting her hair cut.

"And we are in luck!" CeCe effused. "They're the two working on the left side: the Twins. Doesn't look like they'll be tied up too long – I should be able to squeeze you in."

The 'Twins' were in many respects as dissimilar as you could expect two women to be. The one cutting hair was tall, approaching six feet, and lean, with sharply defined cheekbones. Her angular features were softened somewhat by her graceful movements and gentle self-assuredness. She looked as though she wouldn't even blink if a piano were to come crashing to the ground right in front of her. On the other hand, the one giving a manicure was a few inches shy of five feet and quite curvy, with a plump heart-shaped face. She regularly made sharp and sudden gestures as she worked and spoke, suggestive of a restless energy looking to vent itself. Her resting facial expression was the perfect blend of distaste and dissatisfaction.

"But uhh, they don't look –"

"Anything alike? Haha, I know, right? They might be like, fraternal twins, though – or I guess it would be 'sororal' in their case? Anyway, that's like how they were introduced to me: 'Las Gemelas.' And that's what like everyone calls them. Who fucking knows, right? But like, they are the best at what they do, like I'm talking miracle workers, I shit you not."

"What umm... what are their names?" Dana didn't feel comfortable calling them the Twins.

"Thing is, I still don't fucking know. The girl at the desk calls them the Twins, or like, just points at them. And whenever I've spoken with them – 'cause I run into them in like, the strangest fucking places, and like we've had some legit conversations – they've never offered their names. Totally weird, right? I probably could find out but like, I kinda like the mystery, y'know? Anyway, like, in my head the tall one is Una and the short one is Otra, but that's not to their faces, 'kay? Regardless, Dee Dee, I don't think you'll be talking with them much. They're not super chatty when they work, especially if they don't know you." CeCe paused and put a hand on Dana's shoulder. "So like, yeah... at first the Twins may seem a little spooky, but like trust me, they are mega cool people and they know what they're doing. Just relax and let them do their thing." She patted his shoulder and went to talk to the receptionist.

Dana didn't think he would have any trouble relaxing. For some reason, he felt more relaxed and loose than he could ever recall being in the past. Almost too loose, in fact. He was starting to feel a little unsteady on his feet, so he sat down in the waiting area.

CeCe spoke with the receptionist for a little while, then pulled a rubber-banded roll of bills from her purse and passed it to her. By this time Una had finished with the haircut, so CeCe ambled over to talk with her. They shook hands, then CeCe started speaking rapid-fire at Una, who nodded thoughtfully. She said a few words to CeCe, evoking a big grin and a tight hug that Una took with equanimity. CeCe rushed back to Dana.

"Yeah it's like, all set up, Dee Dee! You're in good hands, like, literally: I'm having them give you the works, and Otra's massages are un-fucking-believable, like, wow. You're in for a treat. So like, anyway, this all will take a while. I'm gonna go for a walk and burn some spliffs, 'kay? With fashion, like, I work better when I'm kinda lifted, y'know? Okay, I think they're ready for you, see ya!" She leaned over and gave Dana a peck on the forehead before leaving.

Una motioned to Dana for him to follow her. She led him into a smaller backroom with a massage table, a curtained booth, and some supply cabinets.

"Strip, please."

"Uhhhh..." Did he really need to strip down for a massage?

"Strip." This was Otra, who had come in after Dana and prodded him roughly in the middle of the back. Una smiled and gestured to the booth. Dana sighed and entered the booth, stripping down to his boxers and socks.

"Those too."

Dana slowly pulled off his socks. Then, a little helplessly, he said, "Umm, I... I can't..." Exposing himself to these women was surely sinful, even if they asked him to do it. Not to mention embarassing.

The Twins looked at each other and smiled knowingly. Una retrieved something small and black from a cabinet and handed it to Dana. It was underwear, similar to briefs but stretchier and smaller. "Wear this. For–" here she gestured at his crotch, "modesty. To conceal." She gave him an encouraging nod.

Dana went back into the booth and turned the garment over in his hands. Why was this okay but the boxers weren't? His confusion was compounded by his overall feeling of wooziness. Well, the Twins weren't going to continue with his boxers on, and this thing was better than nothing, so he might as well. He shed his boxers and slid the black underwear up his legs. Wow, these were really tight! Painfully so, even, especially around his genitals. Having not hit puberty, his stuff was still quite small, but even so... There was no way these were the right size.

"Umm, the, I mean, they don't fit," he called from the booth.

"Pull it back, between the legs, then put them on," Una replied.

Dana blushed from her indirect reference to his package. Trying to do as she instructed, he managed to get the underwear on with everything tucked away. It was no longer outright painful to wear, but still very uncomfortable. He looked down at his now-smooth crotch and felt a little odd, though he couldn't say why.

He stepped out of the booth and made a face. "It's, it's still..."

Una nodded. "It pinches, yes. Give it time, soon you won't notice."

Otra tsked and patted the massage table. "Up you go, come now." Avoiding their eyes, Dana walked over and laid down on the table. He'd expected to feel cold, wearing so little, but while the rest of the mall was heavily air-conditioned, the backroom was not. The pleasant humidity made him feel even drowsier. The Twins murmured to each other in Spanish as Otra began the massage.

Having never been given a massage, Dana had no expectations for it. Had he had any, however, Otra would surely have exceeded them. Tension he didn't even know he had melted away at her touch. It was as though she were kneading out all his worries and concerns – untethering him from the world, in a way.

He gradually became aware of a low, melodic hum coming from somewhere above him. The hum was too sustained and too even in tone for a person to make, but also too beautiful and too meaningful to be the incidental product of a machine. Where was the hum coming from? Dana decided it didn't matter.

Warmth started to spread from his ankles up to his thighs. He thought it was just his body responding to the massage until Una ripped the first strip of wax off.

"Aaaugh, what the heck! What–"

"Shhhh. Over very soon." Tearing strips off one after the other, Una removed all the wax in the span of a minute that felt more like an hour. Otra continued the massage as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. His legs felt on fire, but Una rubbed a soothing balm onto them that helped a little.

After a while, Otra prodded Dana, saying, "Get up now." Dazed, he rose and donned the white robe that Una held out to him. Otra scooted him back into the main room and sat him down at a sink. She washed his hair like she was running it through a spin cycle. Then she stood him up and nudged him in the direction of Una, who was prepping her station.

"Have a seat." Dana did. As Una wrapped the plastic cape around him, she locked eyes with him through the mirror. "There is much to be done." Dana nodded, barely suppressing a yawn. Why was he feeling so drowsy all over again? He'd only been up for a few hours. "Would you like me to tell you a story while we work?"

Dana perked up a little. A story? "Umm, yes, um, I'd like that." Una smiled softly, then she began snipping away at his hair.

-.-.-

"There once lived a king who was the most powerful in all the land. Through shrewd bargaining, new trade agreements enlarged his coffers tenfold. With his prowess as a soldier and a general, his conquests expanded his lands tenfold. And by way of an intricate string of deceits, he managed to capture a dragon and free the beautiful princess that they had held prisoner.

"He chained the dragon in his castle's deepest dungeon and tortured them into revealing long-forgotten secrets, which he used to increase his wealth and influence another tenfold. The king took the princess as his queen. She bore him three healthy sons, but died after giving birth to the third. The next morning, the dragon had vanished from the dungeon.

"The king's power grew and grew, and the three princes all grew into capable young men. One day the king decided to settle the question of who was most worthy to succeed him. He declared that the princes would all undertake quests of their own devising. Whoever proved to the king's satisfaction that he was the best of the three would be named heir.

"The eldest son was a brilliant scholar. He decided to uncover the secret of turning lead into gold, so that the kingdom would never want for wealth. The prince scoured all the greatest libraries in the land, but every formula he found was a failure. He sought out wisemen, witches and oracles, but none of their guidance was of any help. Then he broke into ancient tombs and temples, hoping the knowledge was buried within, but all his efforts turned to dust. In desperation, he summoned vile spirits from beyond the pale, but they only gave him dead ends and tortuous paradoxes.

"In the third year of his quest, he collapsed and died in the streets of a foreign city. His body had been so prematurely aged and warped by all the dubious concoctions and foul magicks he had encountered, he was not recognized as the prince of a nearby kingdom. The city buried him in a beggar's grave.

"The middle son was a brave warrior. He chose to go into the foothills with a band of swordsmen, to exterminate the ogres there who stole livestock and menaced the countryside. They slew a dozen ogres every week for months, but there were always more to be found elsewhere. Winter arrived, but the prince resolved to stay put in the hills until every last ogre was dead. Many of his men fell ill and died. Those who remained grew ever more relentless and efficient in their pursuit of the ogres. Just as surely, the ogres who survived grew ever more desperate and inventive, setting traps and ambushes that diminished the prince's band even further. The prince and the ogres played a deadly game of cat and mouse across the foothills for six years, living off the land and scavenging weapons and armor from each other's fallen.

"In the sixth year, the prince's band had been reduced to one man, his closest companion since childhood. All year they roamed the foothills, and all year they found no ogres. Every ogre there had either died or fled deep into the forest beyond the hills. Satisfied that he had completed his quest, the prince and his companion hiked back to the capital. They arrived in the early twilight, their faces twisted with scars and their patchwork armor streaked with mud and gore. The guards atop the city wall believed them to be ogres. Fearing for their lives, they slew the pair with crossbows and left their bodies to the wolves.

"The youngest son was a beautiful singer and accomplished poet. When the king made his pronouncement, the youngest said nothing, but went to the highest room in the tallest tower of the castle and shut himself inside. He refused to see or speak with anyone, not even the one delivering his meals. The king and the rest of the court assumed that, given his natural talents, the prince had secluded himself in order to compose an epic ballad of some sort. But no singing was ever heard coming from the tower.

"After nine years, the king had given up hope of his first or second son ever returning. His kingdom continued to flourish, but he felt himself growing older and weaker. He decided at last to visit his youngest son in the tower to hear what he had composed. Even an unfinished ballad, if brilliant enough, would be enough to secure the prince's claim on the throne.

"The prince did not unlock the door or even respond when the king requested entry. So the king had to summon servants to batter down the door. He found no prince in the room. Instead there was a great serpent, scales encrusted with jewels all the colors of the rainbow. Though the serpent bore no resemblance to his youngest son, the king saw at once that this serpent was the third child of the queen.

"He just as soon realized that his youngest son was not in fact his son. The princess he rescued had not been the prisoner of the dragon, but their lover. The queen had found a way into the deepest dungeon to visit and comfort and make love to the dragon, and likely also to plot their escape. The third prince was the child of that union, but she had suppressed her true form all her life. After locking herself in the tower, however, she transformed into the serpent, knowing that at any moment her discovery could mean exile or death. The king was deeply moved by the serpent's courage and beauty."

-.-.-

A long silence followed. Una had wrapped parts of Dana's hair in foil, for reasons he couldn't begin to guess. Now she was unwrapping the foils. But he wasn't paying that much mind. He was eager to hear the rest of the story: surely that wasn't the end? Minutes ticked by, but Una showed no sign of continuing.

"So... um, then what? The king was so impressed, he made the serpent his heir? But–"

"No. The king could not deny that she had completed a daunting quest indeed. However, his admiration was soon swept away by a wave of shame and helpless rage at his long-dead wife's infidelity. He unsheathed his sword and fell upon it. Filled with guilt and grief, the serpent fled into the countryside. With no heir apparent, the kingdom descended into years of ruinous civil war."

Dana felt a sharp twist in his gut. "Uhhhh... um, really? That's, it's not a very, um, happy story, is it?"

"That was the story of a king's hubris, and such stories are rarely happy." Una caught Dana's eye through the mirror again. "But the serpent's story hasn't been finished." She finished removing the foils and fluffed out his hair with her fingers. "So, what do you think?" She held up a handmirror so that Dana could see his head from the back.

In truth, Dana didn't know what he thought of the haircut. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't this. As promised, Una had taken very little length off, his hair stopping a couple inches shy of his shoulders. But she nonetheless had managed to make it look remarkably different.

The most striking change was that he now had bangs, cutting straight across his forehead perhaps an inch above his eyebrows. In addition, the rest of his hair was subtly layered. The layers added a bit of volume, but more significantly they gave the hair a certain "floaty-ness." The slightest turn of his head sent his hair swishing around, giving off the impression that it wasn't growing out of his scalp at all, but instead was floating just above him and only loosely tethered in place. And finally, the difference that the highlights made was plenty dramatic in its own right. The color she'd chosen blended quite well with his natural color. However, the new highlights often took the place of what had previously been lowlights, such that his hair looked quite a bit lighter than before, more in the range of an ash blonde now.

In his inexpert opinion, Dana felt the overall effect was rather, well, girly. The bangs in particular were something he didn't think he'd ever seen on a man, certainly not his hometown. On the other hand, what little he'd dug up about contemporary rock bands and their followers in his covert internet searches suggested that there were plenty of men sporting some very androgynous hairstyles, so maybe that was the look CeCe was aiming for. At any rate, now that he'd entrusted himself to her fashion expertise there was little to do but see things through and hope for the best.

"It ummm... it looks nice. Very, uh, sleek, I guess?"

Una nodded and smiled a small smile that gave nothing of her thoughts or feelings. "It will grow on you, I think. But, now we must tend to the face. You have good skin, we need not do much – but you must try to exfoliate more." She scrubbed and scraped at his face for a while, then applied one lotion, then another. She told him, "Close your eyes," and rubbed some things onto his eyelids. Then she told him to hold still, and started plucking away at his eyebrows. At last she stopped, smudged a little something on his lips, and said with some finality, "Okay."

Taking a good look at himself, Dana saw that Una had done much more to his face than mere moisturizing. His skin tone had been evened out by some light foundation, accented with a hint of blush. His eyes looked larger and more defined thanks to eyeliner and ice-blue eyeshadow. His brows were much thinner, and arched so as to reinforce the look of shock that his transformation elicited. His lips were now glossy and tinged with pink.

The overall look of the make-up job was subtle and understated, especially when compared to someone like CeCe. All the same, it created the distinct impression of femininity upon the onlooker. Even Dana, who of course knew better, couldn't help but feel that a rather cute girl was staring back at him from the mirror.

Clearly, there had been some kind of terrible misunderstanding. Una must have mistaken him for a girl and thought that CeCe wanted her to give him all the salon's services for women. That would explain the waxing and all the rest. Given how he'd turned out, Dana could see why Una might have made that mistake. He knew he wasn't the most manly of guys but – it was unsettling how unmistakeably girly he looked now.

All the same, there was no way he was bringing the error to the Twins' attention. That would just be beyond embarassing to explain, especially since he hadn't said anything earlier. In fact he'd prefer to leave the salon before CeCe returned: she'd surely say something and he didn't want to cause an incident. Dana would wash off his face and they could have a good laugh about it in private. At least, he hoped so. If CeCe didn't take this mistaken makeover in stride, it would become even more humiliating than it already was.

"Your nails are dry now," Otra said. He had vaguely felt her working on his hands and feet as Una told her story, but he hadn't been paying any attention. His finger- and toenails were now white with a shimmering blue glaze on top. He had to admit they were beautifully done – but men weren't supposed to have beautifully done nails.

"Go and get changed." Dana staggered to the backroom and rushed to put on his clothes, not thinking to take off the underwear Una had given him. He mumbled a quick thanks to the Twins. Una smiled, Otra nodded and waved him away. "She's already paid." Relieved, he stepped out into the mall.

Dana's relief was short-lived, however, as he soon felt quite exposed standing out in the open. Any number of people were coming this way and that: what if one of them realized he was actually a boy, and how ridiculous and wrong his current appearance was? No-one passing by seemed to give him a second glance, but Dana was sure it was only a matter of time. He wanted to go hide somewhere, the bathroom maybe, heck, even a supply closet – just then, CeCe strolled up to him.

She didn't look at all confused or shocked by his feminine appearance: if anything she looked more at ease than usual. Dana was having a harder time reading her, though, due to her puzzling decision to put on sunglasses indoors at night.

"You look fucking perf, Dee Dee! The Twins did not disappoint, right, like I told you they know their shit. Like I swear, lesser beings could work the whole fucking night and not even manage half their results. But like of course, you were killing it before, like chicks like us are fucking flawless no matter what, like 'I woke up like dis,' riiight? But like, I'm always like, why just show up when you can turn up, you feel me?"

Dana mustered something halfway between a cough and a squeak. He was almost certain he heard her say 'chicks like us,' which was fairly unambiguous. But that meant...

"So like anyway, you turned out like exactly as I was hoping, except, like, even better, haha. So I think I'm gonna go with my initial idea for your look, like that first intuition is really vital, more 'of the world,' y'know? And, obvie, feel free to talk shit out or tweak things or whatever if you're not into it, but like, hear me out." She put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm thinking something like, loosely inspired by Elsa – naturally not like, medieval garb or whatever, but your hair's kinda close to hers and you've for sure a winter with coloring and shit. But, but, that's all superficial shit, right? See, I think the affinity runs deeper though, to the level of personality and even like, philosophy maybe. And any style that's like really real, like reality real, it has to mesh with all that. So like, going back to auras: I do pick up a serious Elsa vibe from you. 'Conceal, don't feel,' all that shit – but like in a good way though, no offense..."

CeCe trailed off as she noticed Dana had no idea what she was talking about. "Elsa, Frozen? The movie, Frozen? Like, have you not seen it?" Dana shook his head. "Haha, no like, that's actually really cool, you're like, a Frozen virgin! Someday soon we absolutely have to get baked off our asses and watch it, like the visuals will blow your fucking mind.

"Anyway, okay, where to start, I don't want to like, spoil the movie for you or anything. Um, so think like, an ice queen, right, but not with those negative connotations, well like, okay, actually with those connotations but like, sorta made into positives? Like, she comes off as cold and distant but it's not because she's a heartless bitch, it's like she has all this wild energy and passion that she like has to keep bottled up because like, she's afraid if she lets it loose, she'll hurt someone, y'know? But like also, the aloofness is kinda justified because she is hot shit and could like, kill you with a thought. You following?"

Dana nodded distractedly. He understood her characterization, more or less, but couldn't see how it had any connection to him. He was more concerned, however, by a realization that was, to put it lightly, unpleasant. There could be no doubt now that the Twins weren't the only ones who had mistaken him for a girl. CeCe, his one friend in this town many miles from home, the person upon whom he was abjectly dependent for the time being, believed him to be a 'chick like her.' What would she say, what would she do if he told her the truth? Or worse, if she found out on her own? It was too terrible to even contemplate.

"So like, yeah, that's Elsa in a nutshell. And like to be totally clear, I'm not saying that's like your whole deal. But it seems like a good angle to play up for your aesthetic, y'know? Like, just in terms of playing to your strengths and like, setting yourself apart. I mean you've like, got to consider the mileu a little. This city is swarming with flirty beach-bunny bitches, especially right now–"

"Beach bunny?" Dana cut in. He was only half-listening, but the phrase struck him as odd. People didn't exactly flock to Little Rock for its beaches.

"Uhhh, yeah? Like as in, bronze as fuck, not wearing much, y'know, not looking for names or numbers? I mean like, I know you haven't been before but, hello? I say Miami, you say Beach, like what were you expecting?" Dana shrugged to keep from sinking into the floor. "Well, um, anyway–"

Dana found himself laughing harder than he'd ever laughed in his life, harder than he'd seen anyone else laugh, for that matter. He couldn't stop; he was laughing so hard that he began hiccuping and laughing at the same time. The laughter eventually subsided, but the hiccups persisted.

"Ohhhh-kay there, Dee Dee," said CeCe, shaking her head and patting him on the shoulder. "You're pretty sloppy right now, huh? It's cool, like, at least you're a happy drunk! And you're not too deep in it yet, really – still walking, still talking – at this hour, a lot of the other girls probably can't say the same. But like, note to self, kind of a lightweight. Not to worry though!" She grinned and squeezed his arm. "If shopping and drunk-sitting was a combo sport, I'd take the fucking gold. Like, just lean on me if you have to."

"Lead on hic, o fearless hic leader." Dana decided he was done thinking for the night. Let the chips fall where they may. If this mess was all a bad dream, it didn't matter what he did. If it wasn't, then he'd surely manage to make things even worse – if that was even possible.

-.-.-

Dana was certain CeCe would realize her mistake when she saw that he had no breasts. But then, he didn't have anything in the way of chest hair or muscle definition either. Also the Twins had seen him topless as well and they hadn't been tipped off. But then again, he had been sure Una referenced his package when he was struggling with the underwear. Did they know or didn't they? It just didn't make any sense: another point in favor of the "bad dream" hypothesis.

His confusion only deepened when CeCe led him back to the salon and spoke with Una again. She disappeared into the backroom and returned with a small cardboard box to give to CeCe. They shook hands for the second time that night, then Dana and CeCe left.

The box held two gel pads meant to boost the apparent size of someone's chest. CeCe reassured him that there was nothing wrong or shameful about being underdeveloped, but neither was it wrong to have a little help up top, and all things being equal it would be much easier to find clothes that hung right if they used the pads. Dana silently agreed that all body shapes were equal in the eyes of God. But in his case it certainly was wrong and shameful to use the pads for trying on bras at a lingerie outlet. He kept those objections to himself, however, and CeCe instead took his embarassment to be about his small-chestedness.

Then the real fun began. Although they had a good few hours before the mall closed, there was "a lot of [stuff] to take care of" and CeCe wasn't about to waste time. She shuttled Dana from store to store as fast as his wobbly legs would carry him.

The first shop was a marvel, a shrine to denim: jeans ranging across every cut, style and color imaginable. The variety made Dana's head swim, but CeCe seemed to know exactly what she wanted, plucking a few items here, a few items there, and pressing the pile into Dana's hands. There was no wait for a dressing room; CeCe reimmersed herself in her phone as he went to try on her selections.

If Dana thought his favorite jeans were snug, then some of these were positively a second skin. The first pair he shimmied into were dyed a deep blue as iridescent as a butterfly's wing. Yet, for all the care given to its coloring, the jeans' material had been treated quite cruelly: a zig-zag of gashes ran down the outside of each leg, exposing quite a lot of skin. Dana pinched and pulled at his boxers, but there was no hiding them. Either they spilled out of the uppermost gashes or they rode up over the waistline. Rueful but resigned, he balled up his boxers and abandoned his only piece of male underwear in the corner of the dressing room.

The rest of the night proceeded in like fashion. CeCe intuited which clothes would best suit 'the new Dana' from a panoply of exotic fashions, while Dana obligingly modeled them for her, letting his already attenuated sense of masculine pride slip further and further into oblivion. Somehow, CeCe found the time to gather a considerable heap of clothing for herself as well.

Dazed, half-asleep, Dana waited by the curb with CeCe for their cab. Only his sneakers remained from his original outfit. His top was now a curious kind of blouse – it hugged tight across his (false) chest but grew looser as it neared his waist. The blouse was patterned like a tie-dye shirt except in monochrome: swirling splotches of light blue, dark blue and black over a white base. In lieu of his old jeans, Dana wore a pair of very snug jean shorts. They stopped only a couple inches past his bottom, leaving exposed almost all of his smooth, slender legs. Although he was privately uncomfortable with how much skin they showed, (and they weren't even the most revealing item among the purchases!) Dana had to admit they made the muggy night air more tolerable.

A few choice accessories completed the ensemble. On his right wrist was a single silver bangle bracelet whose twin was on CeCe's left wrist. A small diamond-encrusted crucifix hung around his neck, to match the diamond studs in his newly pierced ears. ("You were born in April so like, diamonds are like doubly, triply your gem, for sure. But like, no need to overdo it though, right?") A black leather purse was slung over his shoulder, filled with a broad-ranging jumble of 'essentials.' Dana was vaguely troubled that he wasn't sure what half the items even were.

CeCe had chosen to remain dressed mostly as she was, only removing her hoodie. Underneath she wore a tight, acid-green t-shirt with "BITCH, PLEASE." upside down and backwards. She smoked a cigarette and hummed to herself while they waited.

"Just wait and see, Dee Dee – today's been like, fucking crazy, but tomorrow'll be chill as all chill, 'kay? We've got nowhere to go, no-one to see, so we can like, just lounge, get loose, you feel me? Don't even have to leave the hotel if we don't want." She nudged Dana's shoulder. "And there's our ride."

Back at the hotel, they found a pair of porters to help carry their purchases. As they waited by the elevator, CeCe explained, "Yeah, like, they couldn't find a room under your name so like, I guess it's under someone else's – Jill maybe? – but like anyway, I figured like why even bother with all that shit, y'know? Like, I was supposed to be sharing a room with Rosie but like, she's down for the count, so I mean why not just crash at my place, right? You cool with that?" Dana murmured his assent. Ordinarily he'd be horrified at the thought of sharing a room with a girl, but right now he didn't have much choice. And he was too out of it to care about much of anything.

As it turned out, the 'room' was actually a suite, and a cavernous one at that. A projector screen, a dancefloor, a long bar snaking around the kitchen – and was that a hot tub in the corner? CeCe let out a low whistle. Dana just shook his head and made a beeline for the nearer bedroom. "G'night!" he heard CeCe call from the other room as he flopped down on the massive bed and surrendered to sleep. His fitful dreams had no hope of topping the day he'd just had.

-.-.-

That same day in Little Rock, the debate camp director experienced a rude awakening in the form of a 5 AM raid and his indictment on thirty charges of possession of child pornography. In an attempt at damage control, the administrators decided the best course of action was to cancel the camp, refund the tuition and pay for everyone's transportation home. An email explaining this decision was hastily drafted and sent to all the campers' parents.

Dr. Diamond's spam filter, much like Dr. Diamond himself, could be not unfairly described as 'overzealous.' It decided the camp's email was suspicious and blocked it from entering his inbox.