That alternative lesbian chick would always stare at me in biology. Well, technically she was bi, but when she was staring at me the title of lesbian just seemed more appropriate. Everyone's a little bi, right? Right. They said she was some kind of genius or something--skipped two grades and just kept on going. She was younger than I was, but she didn't really look it. She had these really intelligent, piercing brown eyes and this cute little haircut that made her look kinda like a 1950s flight attendant. She was super petite and looked like she would break if you looked at her funny, but at the same time she was rather nicely stacked. Guys would always drop things in front of her just to get a better view of the back and she was always trying to be sexy to get attention since she was younger and trying to prove herself, so she generally obliged. I really couldn't tell you what ethnicity she was. She looked like a little bit of everything all rolled into one and she wore it well. They also said she was adopted, so her last name didn't really help out with any clues in that department.
She had some issues and I had some issues, so maybe that's what started it all. Her name was Rose. Really. That isn't some contrived metaphor for beauty that I was trying to sneak in there. Promise. She didn't keep her sexuality a secret--in fact she wore it as a badge. Some girls say that they're bi just to get attention from guys and then puss out when it comes down to it, but she wasn't advertising just to get some extra dick; she just liked to be different. And in a school where most of the student body looked pretty damn similar, that wasn't such a bad thing.
Anyway, this chick Rose was always staring me down in class. At first I thought it was because I called her out on forgetting the difference between mitosis and meiosis in front of the whole class, but after a while I could see it was more than that. There was eyelash batting, hair twirling, pencil chewing--even the time that she did that thing where you flicker your tongue inbetween your middle and index finger when no one else was looking. Sakes alive! Subtle she was not. She never hit on me in front of anyone else though like she did with the pretty girls that she made a show of it with, but with them it was more over the top and with me it seemed to be genuine. At least it seemed like it to me. It also seemed like it to this pervy kid Curt that was in a few classes with us. (I was a pervy kid too though, so it was all good.) He said he noticed Rose eye-fucking me from across the room while he was trying to eye-fuck her to no avail. He was a class act that guy. But he was right.
We didn't have any sort of social interaction at any point and while she was smart and pretty, I was just... smart. Sometimes. So it really surprised me when one day after English class she asked me out to lunch with her and her two friends. I mean, I'm not saying that I was totally on board to start lessing out or anything just 'cause a hot brunette wanted in my pants, but I wasn't completely closed for business. So I went out to lunch with them. It was supposed to be super kewl because they had cars and could go off-campus for lunch, but it turned out that her friends were kinda douchy. The guy that came, Brian, made it perfectly clear that he didn't like me and wanted nothing to do with me and that I was only invited because Rose liked me. And the girl that was there... Well I am still not exactly sure what she was doing there. She was some random blonde piece of T & A that was hanging all over Rose. I really wasn't sure what I was doing there either. I guess I wanted to take a break from endless days of lonerness writing emo poetry behind the math wing. I half expected to get ditched and have to walk back to school. But I went and fortunately that didn't happen. It really wasn't even that eventful. We got sandwiches at the local supermarket, ate them and came back. But the whole time Rose was all over Random Blonde and while she was kissing her neck or playfully pulling her hair she just kept staring at me. When we got back to school and we all jumped out of the tiny cab of Brian's lifted truck, Rose offered me her hand and as I took her right hand her left hand found itself somewhere between my thigh and my lady parts as I lowered myself down. And I got the bedroom eyes staredown again. It was disturbing and hot all at once. Dammit.
I already had enough drama in my life, but at least this was distracting drama. So of course I was all in. Like I said before, I was always writing poetry or stories or drawing or something like that because I didn't really get along well with my peers too well. I never claimed to be great at it or even good, but it was something to pass the time. I had been somewhat inspired at that point to write something about Rose and I ended up doing it during English class when I was supposed to be writing something else--because I was such a rebel. It came out rather trite looking back at it now, but back then I totally thought it was hot and edgy:
Rose is Rose by Several Names
Can't wait to gaze into your eyes
Then dive deep down between your thighs -
Don't care what's right or wrong or wise,
Just close your lids and scream.
Can't wait to taste your luscious lips,
To feel the curvature of your hips,
Then lose in you my distal tips -
If you know what I mean.
Can't wait to lay down on you chest
From all that work I'll need a rest
'Cause after all, babe, I'm the best
And you'll know when you've seen.
Like I said, I was a bit of a perv myself and I was a teenager, so of course it was about sex and not about anything even remotely relevant to building a relationship. I specifically remember using the phrase "distal tips" because we had just learned the term in bio and I thought that would be clever. I also remember showing her the poem offhandedly and exuding confidence even though I was terrified inside. It wasn't that big of a deal because I had a small following of people (and I mean really small) who liked to look at my latest works and I was able to play it off like that. I could tell she liked it by the way she smirked and I know I turned beat red on accounta the fact that I am so damn white. She didn't even say anything to me after that, she just kept on with her continual eye-fuckery and went about her business.
My home life sucked and it seemed like her home life sucked too because we both joined a whole bunch of extra-curricular activities to escape it all. I had been in FBLA (Future Business Leaders of America for all of you people who had lives as a teenager) all throughout high school and I was incredibly active. Rose had joined our senior year when I was especially active and had somehow ended up on my Parlimentary Procedure team. (Oh yeah, we were both that cool.) Both of us knew Robert's Rules of Order backwards and forwards and with the dead weight of two freshman newbs we somehow made it to the state competition. And that would mean sharing a hotel room. Gulp.
So I was always kind of shy about changing in front of people in basically any situation: the locker room, casual sex, physical medical exams, etc. I really didn't look that bad, but I had a few people make me think that I did and that made me all self-conscious. (Thanks for that gay friend who wanted to see boobs to make sure that he wasn't straight and asshole super-crush who made me bare it all in a game of truth or dare only to tell me how unattractive I was! Just saying!) So sharing a room with Rose put me in a weird situation. I was attracted to her, yet at the same time I was self-conscious because she looked like she stepped out of a Victoria's Secret ad and at the very best I might have been on page 45 of the Lane Bryant catalog. Good times. So I was being incredibly secretive and changing in the bathroom during the whole thing, trying to avoid... really, everything at that point. I talked a big game, but I was feeling kinda outta my league here.
We had to stay in the hotel for three nights and I had done a good job with my defense for the first two nights. But on the last night we were there I was getting out of the bathroom and I come out to Rose changing out of her business attire. And she looked amazing. I don't know to this day where she got a pinstripe bra and panty set that perfectly matched her pinstripe skirt, but she had it, and that is what she was wearing when I came in the room. I wanted to turn tail and run but she said she was having trouble getting her skirt undone and asked if I could help. I am a sucker for helping people so of course I agreed. And as her skirt fell to the floor and I found out that they did make pinstriped thongs, I started finding ways to keep myself busy and not gawk. When she said my name in that sultry voice of hers I thought it would be safe to turn around and start talking about seconding motions and points of order. But, no.
I turned around to see an incredibly stunning pair of surprisingly large Hershey kiss nips attached to perfect perky breasts. I still to this day cannot look at those peanut butter cookies with the chocolate in the middle without that coming to mind! And as my eyes kept wandering I could see the top of what looked like the infamous "butterfly" pattern emerging between her hips. I was surprised that anyone outside of a porno had time to sit there and actually do that. I dropped whatever the hell I had been fiddling with and just stood there with my mouth wide open like a tard. And then she asked me all sexy-like if I could hand her the nightgown from her bag. Double dammit! I handed it to her but I couldn't stop staring even after she put on the skimpy piece of fabric she called a nightgown. Who buys a sixteen year old a lace teddy? Really?
From there it was perfectly clear what she had in mind but I was so completely out of my element that I kinda made up an excuse and left the room. I felt bad because she had put herself out there just like I had before and got rejected--by me of all people. It wasn't that I didn't want to, it was just that I was all fucked up from other things that had been going on and I couldn't get screwed over again. So what do I do? I go down the hall and try and get in the pants of this Filipino guy who I had been talking to off and on throughout the year. And I get rejected. Because I was overcompensating and acting all desperate and creepy. So then I am feeling all crappy about myself for a few reasons and I go back to the room and Rose is all pouty in her bed watching television. Still in her teddy. (Dammit, dammit, dammit...) I didn't say anything to her and she didn't say anything to me for the rest of the night. We kinda just went to bed and we just pretended like nothing had happened in the morning. And for those of you who are curious, no, we did not win our competition because it turns out that everyone on your team actually has to be good to win. Go figure.
We still of course had classes together for the rest of the year and we still chatted every now and then, but the gazes from across the room gradually diminished over the last few months of high school. She graduated with honors like me and she was one of the few people in our little hick town to actually get into a fantastic college and then drop out later for reasons unknown. She is, was and probably always will be a free spirit. I never really understood her very well and maybe that was a contributing factor to not pushing the envelope there. But that doesn't mean that I don't sometimes regret it. Especially since when I did end up hooking up with a girl for the first time it was not nearly as good as I'm sure it would have been with her. And there were of course other more serious guy issues going on in the forefront, but everytime I pass by a bakery that has those amazing Hershey kiss cookies, I can't help but wonder "what if."
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