Hell of a Rig

Mom and I sat in the living room to eat the pizza. Pizza is not really a family dinner food. Pizza demands to be eaten while you watch a movie or something. But we aren’t really a TV family. I mean we have a TV… somewhere. I hooked the PS4 up to it so that mom could watch Netflix. But mom watches Netflix while she knits, reads a book, and listens to political podcasts. You can’t really add a piece of pizza to that.

The Basement

That sentence set off a 40 minute conversation among those that were on. And because Discord has a phone app that was everyone except Sarah and Big Davey who just weren’t as connected as they should be. I hedged on the alien thing for a little bit. Yes I really did know an alien, would you all like to meet it because it can happen. No, I didn’t have any proof of the alien. No I was pretty sure he wasn’t running the government. No it wasn’t Q, whoever that was.

Tail

I rolled out of bed, and checked to see if I had a penis that morning. That morning I didn’t. Score. Wait, no. That meant is was still a girl. Yeah, but a girl without a penis.

Out of the shower I stood in front of my closet and stared for a long time at The Outfit. I could have worn The Outfit a long time ago. I had not for one simple reason. Ever seen Lysistrata? That reason. Probably a worse problem in a dress than in a toga though.

Piercing

“So?”

“So what?”

“So are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” This was a text conversation I’m considerately putting into conversation form, between Big Davey and me. I was zoning out and trying not to remember the way his lips closed over the head of my phantom dick, while I browsed instagram. My phantom dick had not made an appearance in the two days since it had been sucked to completion. In the time since I had told no one and while it filled my fantasies I wasn’t eager to talk about it.

Fantasy

Big Davey lead me through the party, a deeply mussed Misty. No one whipped out a camera to show our mutual walk of shame. And in any case my debauching was going to be much less news worthy than the videos that had already been taking.

Like right now through the patio I could see a bunch of people, phones out, shooting the impromptu pool party. As predicted, the casual drinkers and hangers out had gone home, and this was the point where the serious teen aged alcoholics would be blacking out. Best capture the party with your pocket memory.

Drinks

“Then she stabs his hand with a pen and says ‘Trade you, gun for pen!’” Autumn was explaining her costume. It was leather (well, vinyl) and purple and pink. She’d had Rachel’s help adapting it from a motorcycle jacket, a ski mask, and a one piece swimsuit. She was unhappy that she hadn’t got the boots done in time for Halloween, but was looking forward to finishing them over winter break. Or spring break. In time for Comic Con anyway.

Blowjob

Bree was waiting for us when we got back to the stage. She caught my eye and put a finger to her lips. Everyone was looking over Autumn’s drawings on the wall.

“So is that everything we need?” Susan was asking.

I put the tapes and the square back where I found them, while Autumn went over and looked at the list Susan had in her hand. Her cheeks were still a little flushed, and there was dust in her hair and on the seat of her pants. “Are these the miscellaneous flats?”

Susan mmm-hm’d.

Boots

It was called Aldo, only I think it was called ALDO. Hard to be sure, didn’t see it in lowercase anywhere else. I wondered all the company memos looked like the boss was screaming the name of the company.

Mr. Glome’s Follow Up

I made it through all the Monday classes. Worked on what was becoming a full page colored pencil drawing in Design, failed to come up with a monologue in Drama, Played Exploding Kittens (SFW edition on NSFW cards) at lunch, and managed to give as well as I got in English.

I should probably mention something about Intro to Physics. Yeah, I should really get around to that.

Makeout

His lips were a little chapped. Firmer than Autumn’s were. Manly, I guess.

Shaving

I slept in till 3 on Sunday, and then found out I’d ruined the same set of panties twice. Last night mom had handed them to me, “These are the ones you wear to bed on period days now.” They were the blue ones. I loved them much less now.

I thought of the trivial angst of having ruined my favorite panties. Wait. I had a support group now. I texted Autumn, “I ruined my favorite panties with my stupid uterus blood.”

“I like you bare anyway”

Period

I woke up Saturday morning feeling even worse than the day before. And I woke up so wet I could feel it on my thighs. I reached down to touch and found I’d dried flaky. Wait that wasn’t what was supposed to happen, was it. In growing alarm I reached down to touch and brought my fingers to my eyes. There was dried blook flaked on my fingers.

Ohhhhhhhhhhshit! “Mom!”

Cramps

I woke up feeling like death. My head ached, my body was sore, my boobs felt tender to the touch. I could feel them stretch as I got out of bed, stretching my skin from the clavical down to my shoulder blades. It felt like a wire brush had raked my insides.

A shower helped a little bit. I stayed under the water too long, and crinkled my fingers. Washed my hair, and winced when it came time to wash my boobs. I remembered how to tie a towel, realized I was just going to my room, and went naked.

Heavy Petting

“Hey mom, I’m home!” I called as I opened the front door, knowing she wasn't there.

Autumn let go of my hand to take off her backpack. She had held it all the way from Exposition station, cigarette in her other hand. She had only released it to catch a Magicarp (we both got that one).

Makeup

The Loft

Sometime around platform number three I stopped to rest, because everyone else had stopped to rest. I sat, legs splayed in front of me; arms, like a tripod, behind me. Autumn and Sarah were discussing the play we were doing, as if they had both read it. Because they had both read it. The discussion centered around the set design, and had nothing whatever to do with the rest of the play.

Staring

I woke to find my hands pressed in between my thighs. That should have been uncomfortable and wasn’t. It was comforting. I rolled over to go back to sleep and found that everything was wrong with my body.

Not that. That was still wrong, but I had woken up with some of the knowledge permeating my brain.

What was wrong was my breasts. One was half-in, half-out of it’s bra cup in one direction. The other was half-in, half-out at an opposing trajectory. One shoulder strap was on, the other was pinning my arm at my side.

Alien

Joann stood as well and came over to my bedside, “You haven’t eaten for about a week, so I don’t know what the doctor wants to do, but it’ll be at least a day before you’re on real food again. Do you want me to get you a Popsicle?”

“That would be nice. Did anyone find my backpack?”

“It’s in one of the cupboards, would you like it?”

“Please?”

She went over to the cupboards on the wall and fished around until she had my backpack in her hands, and brought it over to my bed. “Do you want cherry or orange?”

“Cherry please.”