“I think… I think I like the you kind.” I remember my face getting hot and taking a long sip of my latte.
She smiled and nibbled her lip a little. “Huh,” her grey-green eyes were all soft and sweet, “what a coincidence.”
We didn’t say anything else. We didn’t have to. We went to the movies after coffee. When the lights went down, I tipped my head over the armrest between us and… our heads collided. She’d been coming towards me too. We both laughed. Feeling silly. Rubbing our heads where’d they bumped. Then each other’s heads.
But then nothing was funny. I couldn’t breath anymore. All I wanted was to kiss her big soft lips. So I did. I’d never kissed a girl before. Not once. Not even spin-the-bottle. I’d just never even considered it before Stacey. She kissed me back and I barely managed not to moan out loud. She didn’t just smell like strawberries – she tasted like them too.
We never saw a minute of the movie. We were kissing the whole time. When the lights came up, we pulled apart quickly – scared we’d be seen. Still, we held hands when we walked out to the parking lot and while I drove her home.
When she went to get out of my car, she just sort of naturally leaned over and kissed me goodnight. Like she would have kissed a boy who was dropping her off after a date. Then she smiled kinda funny and said, “G’night Bubblegum.”
“Bubblegum.” She started calling me that when we were alone. And I started calling her “Berry.”
~~~** Part II**~~~
We had our girlie sex talk after school one night later that week. Stacey and I were hanging out in my room. We alternated between doing Calculus and smooching. My door was closed and locked. I checked it a million times – paranoid that someone would walk in on us.
When I came up for air between kisses, I finally asked her, “Have you ever kissed a girl before?”
She frowned, “Yeah, but just one.”
“Who?!” It was a small town. I probably knew the bitch. I mean her.
“Relax, you don’t know her. I went to summer camp with her. We were junior counselors together.”
“What did you guys do?”
“Everything.”
“Like…”
“Everything,” she looked at me steadily, not blinking. “We had a cabin to ourselves and half a summer.”
“Oh. But you still went back to boys?” I asked, feeling silly. I think some part of me was worried. If I went lezzie – full-on, carpet-munching, screw the dumb boys lezzie and not just kissing and snuggling my cute best friend – would I ever come back to guys?
“Yeah, I went back to boys. I kind of figured it was a one-time deal. I didn’t think I liked girls. I just liked her.”
“Huh. That’s kinda how I feel about you.”
She smiled and nodded then kissed me. Then she got up and went over to my dresser. In this funny, sort of theoretical way, Stacey was fascinated by the size of my breasts. Frankly, I don’t know why because hers were almost as big. When we hung out in my room, she’d dig through my underwear drawer for a pretty bra then hold it up to her chest. It was part of our routine.
~~~** Part III**~~~
It was later, about a month after we had our short, girlie sex talk and she was into my underwear drawer again. That time she was holding up a satiny dark gray bra. I finally told her, “You can borrow that if you want to.”