Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {g-F i-H Saph Fant}

   Megan {Gf Saph, Teen.  +M Mole Pedo-Pheb Tran}

   "Yeah?" we both answered.

   "Lowrey," she looked over at her.  I lowered my head, but my glasses
slipped down.

   "Still here." the other girl raised her hand, and waved.  Taller then
the other girls, and looked like most of the boys too, I waited for my last
name the second time.

   "Michelle, Meghan?" I waited...

   "It's Mitchel," she checked the clip-board.  "I'm here." Duh.

   The girls giggled, and whispered "Michelle." The balls started bouncing
loud on the other side of the gym while she called the rest of the names.
One bounced closer, and dribbled down until a boy ran to stop it, and
carried it back to where the boys were trying to run around with them. 
Dribbling at the same time, most of them didn't get it right away.

   "Pair-up, girls," she tweeted her whistle, "On either side of the net."

   "You're Megan too?" I looked up, and nodded.

   "Hurry ladies, we don't have all morning, and you don't want to be kept
from lunch." I took the ball, and held it.  "Now, like this:" She threw it
up, bounced it off her fingertips, and it flew high above the net.  "Don't
catch it, I want you to volley it back, and forth..."

   I repeated it, and the ball went right to her, but slipped through her
hands, and bounced off the back of her head.  She ran to catch it before it
rolled under the bleachers, then I had to jump back to bat it over for her
to miss it again.

   "Good, Meghan M." I looked down, and pushed up my glasses again. 
"Kelly, try again with your hands closer together." She took the ball, and
set it up, sideways, but it bounced off one hand, and into the net.  She
caught it, and handed it back to her.  "Again," she watched.

   Megan could "serve" it, but not return from me.  She was kinda clumbsy,
and it never came right back to me, unless she threw it up to herself, and
even then only half the time.  I guess she got better, but coming over the
net, it was more likely to go behind her, when she didn't miss it
completely.

   "Have you played Volleyball before, Meghan?"

   "No," she said the same time I said "Yeah.  We totally had a net at the
beach." The girls giggled, and she had to tell them "Quiet." Great, bad
enough being The new girl.

   "You from California?" she asked.  Good guess, the closer coast, but I
shook my head.

   "Sarasota." I added, "Uh, Florida?"

   The other girls were as likely to call me "Sara," or "Mitch" as Meghan,
on the excuse we had too.  Missus Jackson picked it up, but the girls
started whispering "Mitch the Witch" or "Bitch" once we got down to the
lockers.  Great.

   "Hey," the other Megan pushed one, "ALEX!" the other girls laughed, and
she ran to tell the coach.  "I bumped into her," she lied, "Sorry!"

   "We talked about your acting out, Megan." she warned, and stopped to
write something on her clip-board on her way around the lockers.

   "And she called You 'bitch'?" she made a "Phft!" sound.  "Your good."

   "I like volleyball," I shrugged, "Fun game." How I made most of my
friends, over the summer.  Even older girls.

   "What?" I looked back up at her face.

   "Nothing." That wasn't a training bra.  "How old are you?"

   Her face got red.  "Huh," she reached back, "I got held back a year,"
unhooked it, "Okay?" I looked away, and flushed too.  Not like I never been
around other girls before, they just looked a little out of place, so kind
of surprised me, is all.  "You in 7th grade?" I nodded.  "I was supposed to
be a Freshman this year, but I failed P.E..." The way she left it hanging,
I guessed that wasn't all.

   "Jock."

   She turned, and glared.  "Better wash off this sweat before the bell."
She didn't make it back, but I just put on my class shirt, I wasn't that
sweaty, and was starting to get hungry.  Whenever I got my jeans on, I just
stuffed the rest in my bag, and headded for the caffeteria.

   "Hey," she sat down next to me, "You can call me Megs, if it makes it
easier." I chewed, and opened my milk.

   Gulp, "I don't call myself Meghan" I shrugged, "So like, you know,
whatever."

   She poked at her burger patty.  "You spell it with a H?  MegHan." I
nodded.

   "You gonna eat that?" She kind-of scraped it off.

   "Gravy," she made a grody-face, and shook her head.  They called it
'Salsberry Steak' but it tasted like a rice-cake with some Ramen beef
flavored poured on it.  Whatever, dad would be ashamed of me, letting food
go to waist.

   "You wanna learn?" I tried to cut it with the plastic fork. 
"Volleyball, I mean." Might be nice to make it to Highschool some time. 
She shrugged, and nodded.  "It's fun, once you get the hang of it."

   "Sure," she got up, and dropped my tray on hers.  On the way to the
trash barrels, some guy smacked her butt, and she turned, pointing at him.
She looked mean.

   "What?" he put his hands up.  "Dyke," when she started turning, then
coughed when she curled up her finger, and punched him in the neck.

   "Next time I hit you," she warned, "It's gonna be lower." He gasped
anyway, but backed up.

   "Tyler," some guy, teacher or something walked up.  "Let's not have you
fighting again." He didn't even look at Megs, and we kind-of snuck off. 
She shook her finger again, behind his back.

   "WOW!" I laughed, "I never seen nobody stand up to a guy like that
before."

   'Fucking hormones,' she kinda whispered.  They didn't have a net
outside, but we found a ball.  Okay, she took it from some boys, and led me
back to the middle of the soccer field.  "This allright?" she flipped it
up, and set it over to me.  I returned it, and it bounced high, between us.
I almost had to dive, but she caught it, so I could pick my glasses up, and
wipe the dirt off.  Not like sand, but you don't see a whole lot of green
around here.  Don't get much more inland, and up in the mountains, I guess
it was nice just having a level spot this wide.  She yelled.  "There's
another one, Right There!" She kind of pointed with the ball.

   I looked at her, kind-of tomboyish, I guess.  Not like Overalls, you
could see the bra-strap next to the thin strings on her peach top.  It
don't really poke out in front, but I saw shadows under her arms, like she
shaved them, and then ran to catch the ball.  Way over my head, it didn't
help that it looked like she could tuck my head under my arm, but she just
showered.  It was hot out here, though.

   "I like your glasses.  Uh!" Almost got it, and turned to catch up before
it rolled off the edge to the hill.  I think they bulldozed it, or
something, cut some field out of one side to build up the other, make it
wide enough to play soccer on.  Looked like flat logs, or boards in the
side to sit on, like bleachers.  The bell rang, but we got it to go back,
and forth once before she missed it again.

   "See you later, MegHan." She ran off, tossed the ball in the net on her
way by, and grabbed her backpack.

   "Ritch Mitch the Beach Bitch!  Ahahahahahah!" Someone, I guess from Gym,
I didn't even look.  "She sucks for a Jock!" Like they were any better!

   More laughs, I just payed attention to finding my next class, before I
was too late.  Everything was all in 1 building, with the doors into the
halls, instead of outside, so you couldn't just walk around, and everyone
crowded together.  I planned on doing that for lunch, but I didn't mind,
helping Megs.

   I guess "Later" ment after school, she ran up whenever I was unlocking
my bike.  "Your not taking the bus?" I shifted the straps on my back.

   "My dad, he moved here to be close to the school." I brushed my bangs
away, and set my glasses tight.  "Or over there," I chucked my head,
"Whatever."

   "You sound like California," she laughed, "Go ahead, I'll keep up." She
did, must be those long legs of hers.  I mean, I didn't try to leave her
behind, or burn up my brake down the hill.  "Nice bike." whenever she
caught up.  I actually needed them, which was different.  "Why do you pedal
downhill, though?"

   "I don't," I laughed, "It's fixed gear.  I guess Florida's like Cali, a
lot of the rich kids come there from, there, whatever.  Idaknow, Sarasota's
like Sandiego East, there's even a Venice over there." At least it was
downhill, so I could talk instead of panting.  This late, I'd rather have
the wind from coasting then the climb from this morning.  This thin dry air
took some getting used to, but at least there was some muginess in the
morning, I think.

   "No volleyball net?" she looked around the yard while I checked the
mailbox.  Dad's car was still out front.

   "Think I got a ball around here somewhere." I figured I'd work her up to
the net.  "You play soccer?" I guessed, no hands.  Even if she threw the
ball in the net instead of kicking it.

   She shook her head, "Ran Track, and Swimming last year, but I'm not sure
if I'll try out this semester." Might be unfair, anyway.

   "Hey, dad." He came out the garage in his chef's coat untucked or
buttoned.

   "Hey," he stopped, and flipped his keys.

   "This is Megan, too." I shook my head.

   "Megs," she shook his other hand.

   "Hey," he smiled, "I'll be back after the Dinner Rush.  Got to see the
weeknight crew in action." Kissed my head so I got all embarassed.

   "That's why we moved here," I told her, rolling in the bike.  "He's
taking over the Sage."

   "Ever seen one of these?" he grinned.

   "Daad!" I poked it quick when she looked, and slapped his arm.  The
circle game, low, below the belt, I didn't think he'd punch her arm, and
call her 'Fag' for looking.  Kitchen games, he called them, at least it
wasn't the "Waiting" game.

   She whistled, "Schwankey!" and twirled her hand.

   "Heha!  I guess."

   "You hear about the last chef over there?" She found the ball.  I shook
my head.  "Sexual harassment.  Old creeper guy, big old scandal.  Place
almost got shut down."

   "Dad said they had 3 Stars." I remember, "Job opening!" I laughed, dad
always said that whenever somebody dropped a dish, or whatever.  "The
shade's in back," I opened the kitchen door, so she reached up, and pulled
the rope on the garage door.  I don't know how she could tell the opener
was busted, I mean the cover was off it, but how do you see something like
that?

   "Where's your mom," she kind of hopped a little, "uh!" And grunted.

   "Left," I returned.  "She wanted her own life, or whatever.  It was an
okay divorce, dad doesn't have to pay Support, so there's just the
Alimony." If ever there was a Rich Bitch.  "Tennis Instructor, Pool-guy,
Cuban Gardener, you get the idea...  They fought harder over the pots, and
pans." She laughed, and picked up the ball.  Threw it back, so I had to
jump "Uh!" and spike it down to her.  She caught it on the bounce.

   "It's kinda hot out here." she just tucked it under her arm, "What's
your home-work look like?"

   "Ew!" I made a face, "Just math," the rest of the classes were the usual
first day orientation, or whatever.  "Scientific Notation."

   "Ugh!" she grinned, "I hated that." I grabbed my plate on the way back
through the kitchen.  She set down the ball, and put her hands up on her
head.  "Uh, AC!" She closed her eyes, and I sniffed.  Definitely looked
like she shaved, a little.

   "I," thought, "Didn't get a shower.  Before lunch."

   "I don't mind," she looked over my plate, and grabbed our packs, "Wow,
that looks awesome!"

   "Want some?" I dropped it on the bed.

   She shrugged, and dropped the bags.  "Not hungry, it's just pretty is
all."

   "Dad loves to cook," I laughed, "Watches the Cooking Channel, and Food
Network when he gets home from work.  If you look at our DVR, it's like
half Iron Chef, and Chopped, or whatever.  I guess he wants to go on those
shows some day.  He always kibbitzes when we watch them."

   "Kibbitz?" she laughed.

   "Sorry, he's also a recovering Jew.  Ashknazi, that's where I get the
Ginger from."

   She laughed, "I never seen a redheadded Jew before." She looked down,
just stood there, kind of stared at me.  "I'm," she sighed, "I'll take the
shower after you, if you don't mind."

   "Oh youah," I shook the memory of dad talking about the Metzgers, and
Levantines out of my head.  "You can go first." Mom kept a Khosher kitchen,
dad said he "Couldn't afford it," in a small market, and had a weakness for
cheeseburgers.  I sat down, got out my Math book, and pushed up my glasses.
I saw her pull up her shirt, out of the corner of my eye, but turned the
pages, and chewed on my eraser.

   "In here?" she turned back, and I nodded.  In her bra, and panties, the
former standing out a little in front, the latter pulled tight behind.

   "Mmhm!" I turned, and picked up a crustini with the patte' of duck
confi' from last night's leftovers.  A "Little Salty" he said last night,
but I couldn't taste it over the toasted rosemary.  The water stopped, and
she came out, twisting a towel around her hair.  "How's it coming along?"
she looked over the book.  The other towel rode up a little.

   "Okay?" I guessed, "Mega-" I blinked, "Millions." She sure wasn't shy,
or modest, or anything.  I mean, I saw her, in her underwear earlier, but
she just dropped the towel, patted her crotch a little, and draped it over
the chair.

   "Megah!" she laughed, "What size are you?"

   "Hum?" I looked up.  She did shave, or needed to.  "Uh, dress size?" I
felt my face heat up, and grabbed another crustini.  "Uh, small?" She
picked up a pair of shorts from the floor, "Why?"

   "Jr." she read, "5 uh, that's like" she thought, "Looks like about a
22', so a 7 misses?"

   "IDK," I rubbed my eyes, and put my glasses back down.  "trying to do
math here?"

   "Sorry," she pulled a drawer, "Can I borrow some sweat-pants, or
something?" Slid it shut without taking any underwear, and pulled another
one.  "Dirty clothes, clean body."

   "Oh sure." I put my head down, and looked back at the workbook.  "Kilo-,
thousand."

   "All yours," she picked up a top, and switched it around.

   Her breasts kind of hung in the air, like an uncomfortable pause...

   I stuck the worksheet in the book, and went to see how much hot water
she left.  "Mm!" she crunched, "Where's the Salt?" I just shook my head,
and closed the door before I pulled out my top.  She even ate the garnish,
just the stick from the rosemary left on the plate next to the salt shaker.
"What was that?"

   "Pure' of Duck, some Peckarino, whole wheat Panko for filler." That's
what Dad called Grape-nuts, said it gave more "Body" to dark meats.  "Think
there's some Moroccan olives in there." Tasted like.

   "Well, they was rockin', all right!." We laughed.  She helped me knock
out all the prefixes, since it was all a re-run for her.  My sweats were a
bit tight around her, hips, but she had to tye the drawstring, and they
were like capri lenth on her long legs.  I picked up some underpants, and
made sure they weren't stinkin, or anything.  Felt kinda self-conscious,
bending down to pull them up under the towel.

   "You've got pretty eyes." I paused, wiping my glasses.  "I like how they
bring them out, you wear any make-up?"

   I shrugged "Sometimes." Not much time this morning.

   "Here," she unzipped the pocket on her bookbag.  "If you use a lighter
shadow, or eyeliner, it'll bring out the brown.  How 'bout some green.  Hm,
all I got is blue, with me but green would be better to accent the auburn
hilites in your hair." She sat up, leaned in, and pushed up my glasses. 
"Close this one," I felt her brush the lid with the spongey pad.  "Not bad,
where do you keep your makeup?"

   I looked around, "Uh," hadn't unpacked that yet, "In the closet, maybe?"
She reached up, moved boxes around "That Tackle-box" I grabbed a top real
quick, "It says Plano on the end?"

   "Ah," she looked back in the mirror on the door.  "Here," she turned,
"Lemme have a look at you." She put her hand up on mine, and pushed down
the top I was holding over my chest.  "Don't worry, I used to be about your
size." Her eyes felt hot on my mostly flat chest.  She pulled my arm, and
pushed me in front of the mirror.  I heard stuff rolling around in the
trays, but looked blurry in front of me.  "You don't have any mascara, or
shadow?  Not even a pencil?" Behind me, she dumped lipstick, and blush up
from the bottom to the tray.

   I shrugged, "Mom took all that.  I'm myopic, so I can't see what I'm
doing with my glasses off, unless it's like, way out here." I stepped back.
Of course, that ment my eyes were too small for any detail.  I saw my
glasses on the bed, and picked them up.

   "My hair sun-bleaches," she straightened up, "So I'm more of a blue.  I
think I got some green at home, so if you want to come over tomorrow, or I
can bring it with me?"

   "Sure," anyway, she left, and I put the top on.  My eyes looked, I don't
know, bigger?  Brighter, or whatever.  Weird, cause the line was dark, not
blue, but kind of a light brown, or dark tan, darker then my skin.  I guess
it brought out my freckles a little.  I closed one eye, then the other to
see how it blended up on the lids.  Neat!

   Then, I reviewed the workpage real quick, to get the whole Deci/Deca
thing strait.  That was the tough part, but then dad came home.  "What a
rush!" he grinned, and winked.  We watched Top Chef from earlier while he
boiled water, and I broke up the asparagus.

   "Mega" {Gf NS Nude}

   "Hey," she met me in the locker room "MegHan." She stressed the H, loud
enough for the other girls to hear.  "I washed your sweats." All rolled up,
like socks, the shirt tucked up in the hood, and tied with the drawstrings.


   "I didn't wash yours." She'd taken her underwear in her bag, but her
top. IDK what she was worried about, it didn't smell sweaty, even inside
after 2 showers yesterday, but maybe she was a clean-freak.  Worse kinds of
freak to be out there, mom was kinda like that too, yaknow?  I stuffed them
in the locker, and pulled on my tank top.

   "Thanks," she stuffed them in my bag, checked the locker next to mine,
then squeezed past me to take the other one.  "I brought the green stuff."

   "Stoner." One of the girls skoffed.

   "Rotten twat." She returned.  "Anyway, I'll make you up on lunch, see
how it looks."

   "Lowrey," coach called up in the gym, "Megan."

   "Mega," she saluted, "Here, sir!"

   "Weirdo."

   "Quiet girls," she shushed, "And watch the 'tude, 'Mega'." ... 
"Mitchel, Megan."

   "MegHan, here." I laughed.  She sighed, and marked it off.  "Perry,
Anna?"

   "Here, mam!"

   "Thank you, Anne." She almost cracked a smile.  The bitches parodied
her, calling her "Maam" until she had to tell them to stop.  "A simple Here
will do, otherwise keep quiet." Me and Mega saluted together, but stayed
quiet, she rolled her eyes.  We got a stern lecture later on disruptions,
and how we could see her for Detention if we wanted.

   "No, maam," I said, seriously.

   "Hit the showers, then." All the others were taken, so Mega waited with
her towel, and little shampoo bottle.  I grabbed a sink, and wetted the
corner of mine.  I don't sweat much, especially in the air conditioning.

   So anyway, I was already dressed when she came back out, then sat with
her legs akimbo on the bench so she could do my eyes.  In her towel, up
like a minidress, I closed one eye, and felt her dab at the lid.  First
with the pencil, she licked her thumb, and rubbed the point off, then the
compact with it's spongey little brush, like a q-tip, but with foam on the
end.  Then the mascara brush to pull my lashes out, she picked at them with
her nails, and wiped them off in the edge of the towel.

   I looked at the little mirror in the lid while she took off the towel,
pulled up her panties, clipped on the bra, spun it around, and pulled up
the straps.  Baby blue, like the panties, but the cups didn't look like
cotton.  More like satin, or silk, they pulled her cones into flattened
bumps she dropped a yellow top over.  Made her look even blonder, and her
eyes looked bluer.  "What do you think?"

   "You look fine," I nodded.

   "I know," she huffed, "I mean your eyes, how'd I do?"

   "Idaknow," I flipped open the compact again, "They look like my eyes,
with makeup on them." I raised my glasses, and held the tiny mirror out at
arm's length to focus both of them.  "What?"

   She giggled, "You went all cross-eyed!" and covered her mouth before she
lolled at me.  "Oh, it's cute, but you really look better with these on."
She pushed my glasses down by the arms.  "They also magnify them, which is
why I didn't go too heavy on the lashes."

   "Yeah!" I turned, moved the mirror around, "They do look better, I
guess." Not so black, if I caught the light in them, and I guess I could
see what she ment about the glasses.  Hated them, cause I was always teased
growing up.  Why I just ignored the bitches, they was already off to lunch,
but not like it was new.  I had friends, before, but they got teased too.
Not like I was special, just had to not take it personal.  They were nasty
to everyone, everywhere.  Why I didn't even want them as 'friends', they
could be just as cruel to each other, then laugh it off.

   "Comeon," she took my hand, "You hungry?"

   "Always." I grinned, and followed her.  "Ugh, greazza!" They had sorta a
salad style substance, pre-dressed with some nasty watered down ranch
fluid. At least you didn't have to wring it out.  She took the risk, I
guess that pastey wedge of plastic processed non-dairy cheese flavored food
topping product was as good as anything to look at, and poke around with a
fork.  I ate her pear halves too.  "I really need to start bringing my
lunch."

   "Think your dad could make me one too?" she laughed, and held up the
slice so the tip drooped, and dripped that juice onto the tray.

   "I think he can make some extra." I looked up, at the guy staring over
her shoulder.  Fluttered my eyes at him, and giggled.  "Yeah, I guess they
look all right."

   She twisted, but he looked away nervously.  "Phah!" she busted out,
"Wow, might want to wait 'till there's some grass on the field, or some
balls in play!" He practically ran, she didn't whisper.  "She'll be the
last thing you touch." Her voice got real serious.

   "Fucking Lezbos." Tyler got up.

   "Language, Tyler." Behind him, we both laughed again.

   "Your not," I looked at her when she turned back, "Are you?"

   "What?" she 'laughed' "Gay?  You're new here, but I been here 3 years.
In this school, if your not a 'slut' your a 'Lesbo.' Either your a tease,
or a prude.  Nerd, fag, or both.  Nobody's having any sex around here, hell
most of them are still big kids.  So, they just talk about it, the boys
brag about it in their locker room, the girls accuse each other.  There's
nothing but rumors, and puppy fantasies, like little acorn-dick over
there." She hooked her thumb over her shoulder.  "I like you, but I'm only
14, and I'm one of the oldest ones here.  That makes me the prime target,
because I'm farthest along.  I guess I got a head start too."

   "Oh yeah?" I tried to find a shred of iceburg that wasn't wilted brown,
or soaked in dressing.

   "Well yeah," she rolled her eyes, "I started bleeding in 6th grade!"

   I dropped my fork, and pushed it back.  Hope dad left a big plate this
afternoon!..

   "Your home?" the garage door was closed, so I had Mega pass the bike
over the fence.  Didn't know it'd get stolen, but didn't want to find out.

   "Yeah," he got up from the den.  "Truck day, the preppies need a little
work, so I think I'll be knocking out early 'till Friday.  Hey Megs." He
chucked his head.

   "Hey, mr."

   "Augh!" he waved, "You can call me Gary."

   "Kay, Gary." she laughed, "I started going by Mega to tell her apart."

   "Bitchen!." he high fived.

   "Oh yeah," I laughed, "Dad's from San Jose'." wait a beat, "California?"

   "Van Nuys, but then we moved up to the south bay." he nodded.

   "Is that a flower?" she pointed at his wrist.  He had on his "Civies"
zipoff surfer shorts, and a pattern short-sleeved shirt/jacket over his
usual tee.

   "Yeah!" He turned over his wrist, "Zuccini blossom.  Granola and yoghurt
is all right, but it doesn't make good ink." Okay, that was his downhill
longboard in the garage, and volleyball.

   "We kinda had to skip lunch," I rolled my eyes, "Kinya whip something
up?"

   "Sure," he paused Giada, clapped, and rubbed his hands together.  "You
really should eat more, Mega, you trying to get down to runway weight? 
Kidding, you look perfectly healthy.  whachwant?" She looked kinda lost.

   'your dad is so cool!' she mouthed at me, and shook her hands by her
face while he strapped on the apron, and sucked in a bar towel.

   "Uh," I thought, "She liked the crustini yesterday."

   "Crozeteeeni!" he pinched the air, and shook his fingertips in
exaggerated Italian.  "Leftovers!" he waved it off, and bashed around the
pots, and pans, "You like pasta?  Steak?  Poultry?  Whadawe got here?" He
leaned on the fridge door.  She leaned over the side.

   "Here," she grinned, and pulled it out, "Lemme in here." She practically
pushed him out of the way with her hip, and rustled around.  "You got a
basket or something?  Where's Ted?  What is this, peperoni?"

   "Soprasata," me, and dad said, then looked at each other.  She dropped
it on the cutting board by the fridge.  "Ted who?" I asked.

   "Idaknow, from Chopped, silly!" She tossed half a Bock Choy next to it,
"Uhmmm..." She chewed her lip.

   Dad laughed, "Oh, I like her," and nodded up, and down real hard.

   She sniffed a plastic bag with some cheese in it, and threw that on,
"One more..."

   "How 'bout a starch?" He tapped her shoulder, and swung open the pantry.


   "Oh," she grabbed a soda, and shut the refrigerator.  "Farf..?"

   "Farfalle'!" he kissed his fingertips.  "Perfectissimo!  Thanks sue, you
wanna grate the smoked gouda, while Meghan chops the Bok Choi?"

   "Why'd he call me Sue?" she whispered at me, while he spun off like the
Tasmanian devil.

   "I think that was a pun on Sous chef."

   "I'm a cunning linguist!" he quipped, "You wanna decant the amerone'?"

   "Sure," I went to the wine rack, "Amerone, amerone..."

   "Next to the Chianti, can't miss it." Right, with the basket bottom.

   "He lets you drink?"

   "Yeah," I shrugged, "Since I was twelve, like half a glass.  It really
brings out flavors." I found the caraffe.

   "This," he held it up, "Is a mouli grater."

   "Like at Olive Garden." she nodded.

   "Right, but this is a semi-soft dutch cheese, so let me show you how to
change the drum...  How's that Bok Choy coming along, sweety?"

   I sighed, and reached for the knife-block.  He's insufferable when he
has an audience.

   "Ah!" he smacked his lips, "Reciotto!  Then he babbled on about it being
too young, and sweet, and kvetching about Napa..."

   "Ahahahahaha!" okay, maybe 3/4 of a glass, but it was soo good!  "So
then, he calls her a 'Dyke,' and she socked him, right in the throat!"

   He frowned at the 'D' word, but then his smile broke, "Aggro!"

   She shrugged, "Krav Maga," studied her nails, "3 years." Buffed them on
her top.

   "What's?" I blinked, or that was the idea, but then I had to open my
eyes.  I took a deep breath.

   "Krav Maga," she said again, "My dad's kinda paranoid, read some
statistic somewhere where a third of girls are sexually abused before we
turn 18, so he took me to this self defense guy.  I think it's Israeli."

   "Check," my dad nodded, "Has the dubious distinction of being developed
by Jews for fighting Nazis." No number tattoos in my family, I know about,
but we used to talk about family history a lot.  We're kinda not practicing
Jews any more.  "The IDF trains all their recruits in it, though.  Brutally
effective, from what I hear." He burped, to himself.  "Compliments to the
chef."

   "I think that's the idea." she set down her glass, and crossed her eyes
at me, "This isn't some wing-chung formal dance style like Tai Chi, but a
ball busting kneecapping eye gouging 'attackattackattack!' style.  Master
Markowicz doesn't even call it a Martial Art."

   "What does he call it?" I started shaking my head, then stopped.

   "A 'ballbusting kneecapping eyegouging'..." She stopped, and something
bubbled up silently, "Whew!  Good wine!?"

   "I'll drink to that!" he raised the bottle, but didn't offer us any
more. "Think the preppies should be all right for in the morning.  Uh, I
think I'll sleep in tomorrow."

   Our lunch, 'the un-khosher': shrimp stuffed with cheese, and wrapped
with bacon with a little julianned Mirepoix salad with caramelized unions
was cooling in the fridge, anyway.

   "Yyeeaahh!" she stretched, "Y'mind ifI pass out here tonite?"

   "I'll getcha a blanket," he pushed up on the chairs' arms, and took the
bottle.  "Didn't wanna send you home all drunk anyway." He doesn't reseal
wine, says it oxidizes, so it's 'use it, or lose it.' She mumbled
something.

   I used the wall, heavily on my way back to the room, and don't remember
my head hitting the pillow...

   "Master" {MGf Ecch Mang Loli Yaoi NS}

   "Meganekko!" he laughed.  Just like my grand daddy, or more like Rabbi
Greenfield back in Ybor, I guess.  He didn't have the forelox, but did wear
a Jamulke, and was cleanshaven.  Just looking around, I could tell this
wasn't a place of Goyim.  I was expecting more of a dojo kinda place, but
it could've been a dance hall, or klesmer practice room.

   "Eh?" I blinked.  She kissed at both cheeks, European style, and he let
go of her arms.

   "Sorry," he turned, and clasped his hands, "It's Japanese for 'Glasses
Girl.' Literally, Megane' Ko.  Here." He paced back to his desk, in his
socks, making a swish swish sound on the hardwood floor.  In normal street
clothes, pants, and a buttoned up shirt, he didn't even look all that
Jewish except for his dark curls around the headgear.  "See?"

   He dropped a little book on the calander, it said Meganekko Ecchi!  on
the back with a block of oriental letters, or heiroglypics, might as well
be.  "Hihehuhah!  But you see, you're Meghan, too!"

   "I get it," I nodded, but he couldn't stop.

   "Megan," holding out his hand to her, "Echo!" That rising dry chuckle
that made me smile despite myself.

   "Manga!" I tapped the backwards book.  "I had a friend, Mariko." We
called her 'Mari,' "What does Ecchi mean?"

   "Well" he rubbed his hands together, "You must understand that Japan is
a different culture, with different customs westerners may not understand,
completely."

   "Uhm," Mega interrupted, "He means, some people might consider it,
Erotic.  You've watched Sailor Moon." She knew I had, "Well, the American
version is."

   "They westernized it a bit." He nodded.

   I picked it up, but she looked, maybe 12?  Kinda hard to tell, because
she had that Anime face, eyes larger than her nose, kitty cat ears, and
whiskers, pulling down her eyelid, and sticking her tongue out.  But, she
had boobs, sort of.  Tiny little things, but poking out the front of her
sailor suit, and I mean she even had little dots for the nipples with
wrinkles fanning out like an upside-down sun flag.  It got worse inside,
she ran, bent over, arms akimbo behind her, skirt flaring up, convict
striped panties with full camel-toe.  Not like a little flash, but the
middle half of the page.

   And a creeper, following her, muttering something to himself.  Top-hat,
thin line of mustchache, full on rapeface.  On the other side (the left
page) the obvious bulge of a raging hardon.  Impossibly large, like a
tent-pole, and by the way she was looking back, I could just bet he was
gaining on her.  I dropped it like it was on fire.

   "You have to understand, they also have Yaoi Shotakane' Boys' Love, and
it's extremely popular with middleaged housewives.  They're the ones that
write, and ink most of it." He showed me, but I stepped back.  "I
understand your discomfort," he stepped around the desk "But it's just like
the boys at your schools' fascination with lesbians, only over there,
there's no double-standard."

   "Well," I kept stepping back, "It was very nice to meet you," tried to
imagine him in a top-hat, and trenchcoat, capey, thing, whatever.  I didn't
check for a tent-pole.  "But I really got a lot of homework."

   "WTH?" Mega followed me out.

   "GOD!" I shook my hands, trying to get the invisible ink off, "What a
fucking creeper!"

   "He's not like that!" she swore, "You don't understand!"

   I pulled out my key, and bent over my lock.  "Oh I understand!  You mean
to tell me he never tried to touch you?"

   "Of course, he has to, to Train me!"

   "Un hun," I unhooked the cable, "And that's it?  What about his dirty
not-technically kiddie porn?"

   "He spent some time in Japan," she rolled her eyes.

   "Yeah, a lot of Marines spent some time in Okinawa too." I slipped the U
bar through the ends.

   "What does that mean?" She held my handlebar.  "Look, he told me about
guys like that.  How they'd come at me, try to talk to me.  It's called
Grooming, and why would he tell me about that, and Then make a pass at me?"

   I sighed.  "You know what Passive Aggressive is?" She shrugged, "Jews
are passive-aggressive as a race, kind of how the Germans have an OCD
culture.  Sure, the Nazis killed a lot of people, gays too, but they were
brutally Efficient about it." I didn't want her trotting along after me, so
I walked my bike up the sidewalk, and waited for the light.  "Huh, it's
like Reverse Psychology.  'oh, I'll show you how to spot a rapist,' so
you'll never suspect.  He's clever, or thinks he is enough to be above
suspicion.  But when he's done, he knows exactly how to train you.  Ugh!" I
felt a little sick, "He taught you to find another victim!  How long were
you 'training' with him?"

   "I told you," she started.

   "Yeah, Ha!" I shook my finger, and paced ahead of her.  "I bet he waited
a whole year before he tried to kiss you!?"

   "No he didn't!" she yelled, "He loves me!" And ran to catch up.

   "Koppin drerd!" I smacked her head, "GET your head out of the ground! 
I'm 12!  Going on 13, just like you were 2 Years ago!" I tapped the side of
my glasses with my bunched fingertips.  "Look at the girls in those Manga.
That's what he wants, and You Got Too Old!  When was the last time you saw
him so exited?"

   "Uh?"

   "Megan." I tapped her chest.

   "Echo!" Slapped mine.  "I'm your fucking RePLACEment!"

   It was a pretty long ride back from the Dojo, and I don't guess I tried
to let her catch up too much.  I was pissed, and felt dirty, so I just
tried to pump it all out into the crank, but it was uphill quite a ways. 
So, I wasn't too far ahead, but we couldn't breathe well enough to talk.  I
just wanted those sick images out of my head, and I didn't even see
anything.  It almost made it worse, like those horror stories where they
tell you just enough for your imagination to take it from there?  What
happens when the operaman catches this little girl in the sailor suit with
the stripy underwear?  I don't want to think about it, but how do you not
think about an elephant in a pink tutu when you're trying not to?  You just
get stuck in a loop, "Don't think about, damn it!  Now, just don't
think..."

   So, I pulled up to the house, and the garage was shut, so I had to carry
it around back, and dad wasn't home, and I kept looking behind me until she
trotted up to a stop, panting behind me.  "Huh, wh, uh?" And her voice
changed.  I turned around right before her knees kicked out, and tried to
catch her,.  "Whuhnhnh!" She sobbed.  So, I sat down on the patio, held
her, and just let her cry it out.  "I."

   "No," I just patted her hair, "Don't, just.  Catch your breath." I held
her out.  She looked miserable, her eyes were running, so she had like
Squirrel Girl lines on her cheeks.  "Breathe, then talk.  Can you get up?"

   "Inh?" she nodded.

   "Good," I pushed her back more, "Because my legs' falling asleep." She
kind of half smiled, and sputtered.  "Now it'll be up all night, don't you
know that's what causes restless leg syn.  nH!" Ah God!  "And cramps, ah!
Fgh!  Help me up." I rubbed, and squeezed it.

   "Are you okay?" I bent, and found my keys.

   "Yeah, just a Charley-horse." I panted.  "Thanks," she opened the door,
and bent to get her arm under mine.  "No," I slapped her arm, "Don't try to
pick me up, just help me over to the chair..." I sank carefully on it, and
stuck it out.

   "I'm sorry," she rubbed my thigh for me.  "I just!" She choked up, and
more tears leaked out.  Another seat scraped out, and I tried not to worry
about the floor.  I bent my knee, painfully, but flexing it a couple times
pumped some fresh blood back through it.

   "It's okay." I caught my breath, "Tell me all about it, when you're
ready..."

   "Mega" {G-fM Tran Pheb Mole Past.  Note: Possible triggers.}

   Huh, you were right.  "Mh hm?" she foraged around the fridge.  I uh, I
don't guess he ever Told me not to say anything, but deep down, I knew it
could get him in trouble.  I wasn't as strong as you.  When I started, I
was just starting to, you know, Blossom?  "Yeah?" and dad, I told dad the
boys, they were starting to notice me.  Now daddy, he's like, anal.  German
anal, burn the Jews on a schedule!  Sorry, uh.

   "It's okay," she chuckled, "It was a long time ago, and I'm not really
in denial about it.  Go on..." So yeah, he fired up the internet, thinks
he's an amateur doctor, or something.  Really loves House, you ever watch
that?  "Basic cable" she shook her head.  It's on Fox, oh never mind,
anyway, he adores that guy.  Wants to be him when he grows up, or
something. "He's an asshole." I laughed, yeah, he is, but he's always
right! Dad never got the being right part, uhm, right, I guess.  And
Sherlock, and Elementary, and Perception, and Numbers...

   "I get the idea." She handed me a sandwhich, and pored me some OJ out of
the Karaph.  Mh, thanks!  So he decided Krav Maga was the best thing, he
said like Ziva, "NCIS." Yeah, so he found this guy, "Horowicz." and I
started taking classes.  I set the sandwhich down.

   "You have to eat," she picked it up, "Dad was joking about your runway
weight, but I'm not.  You just run what, a mile and a half, and cried for
20 minutes?  eat!" I took a bite, and set it down.  "So he made you feel
special.  Let me guess, your dad told you Why he sent you to him, and they
agreed to some special training?" I nodded, and took a sip.  "Eat, oy!" She
turned into a Jewish grandmother.  All a sudden, like I couldn't even see
it, thought she was Scottish, or something, and then she was speaking in
half Hebrew, "Yiddish," and gesturing all over the place.  "It's Metzger,
back in Poland.  There's some Rom on my mom's side, and she's half Irish."
It was like her dad, and Italian!  So, I took another bite.

   "So anyway, he probably took you aside of the regular class, or had you
stay a little later." Mh!  I nodded, "And the training got a bit more
physical, I'm sure." I swallowed, How do you?  "Hang on," she put her hand
up, not over my mouth, but in front of it, "I used to have a friend, at
Synagogue.  I guess he was my best friend for a while there, we started
holding hands, and play kissing.  Like 'Mwa!' I was only 10, or 11 at that
point, you understand." I shrugged, and finished the sandwhich.  WTH not,
she wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, and it seemed to help, or maybe
I could listen to it better then say it without crying again.  "You see
that's how these guys operate, he wasn't the Rabbi, but was rabinnical, and
I don't know how much you know about the faith," Wha's Ramini?  "Exactly.
More juice?" Mh hm!  "So anyway, he like watched the kids, and the youth,
for during the teaching for the youth.  Yes, like Sunday school, but Shabos
isn't like Sabbath, we don't go on sunday, we come for council, when we
have questions.  And he had questions, because he was getting to the age of
curiosity, and he told him how he could do it without offending, you know."
She pointed up.

   God?  "Yes, but we're Jews, we can't just call him God, that would be
too familiar.  I'm not even supposed to say JHVH around you, because you're
a Goya woman, and our heads aren't covered.  It's a very sexist tradition,
we can't sit with our fathers, and brothers with the Rabbi, we have to go
with our mothers after, with the door closed, and the lights out, and write
it in Hebrew in our palms.  No, not really, but you get the idea." Okay, I
thought it was the whole Florida thing, then California vaya Florida with
her father recovering from Jewishness to Italian, but I guess she's more
complicated than that, and flashing back to her mother or something.  I
guess if I met her, or at least saw a picture I could piece more of it
together, but.

   "Yeah, something like that.  I'm American, it's a stew.  So Aanyways!"
Back to Cali valley, "What happened was I found all the other boys he was
spending way too much time with, and I blew the whistle.  No chance for a
coverup." What was in that?  "Sandwhich?  Oh, some corned beef, swiss, a
little Dijon, want some more?" I shook my head, Lunch.  My folks never fed
me so good.  "Why what do you have at home?" IDK, something frozen, in a
box.  She made a face.  "Whatever, then my Uncle come out, and I guess 2
sex scandals in the family was too much.  I knew about mom cheating, dad
knew about it, most of her lovers didn't know about each other, but if
Everyone found out, well 3 is a very significant number."

   Your uncle's gay?  "Mh hm?" On your dad's side?  "So?" My dad, I told
you he does a lot of research?  He's basicly an internet amateur expert. 
He doesn't know everything, but he knows where to find it, so it's just a
click over to Google, and then he comes back with a lecture that makes him
sound like an Expert.  He's got Blogs, about the only thing he's never had
is Hypochondria.  "Snort." Yeah, so he's on disability, and IRL he's just
exactly the same, only he doesn't actually have Wikipedia in his head. 
"Whiki?" It's like an Encyclopedia, it's huge.  Yeah, so anyway, he's
always reading me stuff, sending me links, he messages me from upstairs to
bring him a roll of toilet paper.  Why I haven't taken you over there, he's
a terrible bore, and he never leaves.  Anyway, that's where I heard about
this study about fraternal Uncles, and homosexuality.

   "What about them?" There's more gay people with homosexual uncles, on
their fathers' side.  I read the whole thing, and it seemed to suggest that
there might be a genetic link, you're really born that way.  "Well, not me
of course." Really?  "What're you talking about?  Maybe you're gay, and
projecting on me, but that's not a problem.  No, really, my dad's from
Sanfransisco, or right down the bay from there, my uncle's probably
cruising Haight/Ashbury right now, I'm not in denial, I think I'd know if I
was gay or not." Oh yeah?  "Far as I can tell." Shrug.

   Meghan {Gf NS}

   "What kind of guys do you like?" She asked, picked up the caraffe, and
drank the last of it.

   "Eh?" Idaknow, "I."

   "See?" Smug smile.

   "No, that's a falacy.  I'm not attracted to any girls, either!" I'm 12!

   "Oh come on, I saw you look at me, and not look at me.  You get all
nervous whenever I'm naked."

   "Yeah, and that was kinda creepy.  Don't forget your abuser trained you
to seek out a replacement?  Okay, I'm sorry, but there isn't a nice way to
say this.  I like you, you're a pretty good friend, and all.  Even kind of
pretty, but you kinda stand out.  That's what I saw in the locker room,
you're 14, in there with a bunch of middle-schoolers, you don't have a
whole lot of modesty, you kicked a boy's ass right in front of me, and
bully the other girls, and yeah, I kinda liked that.  But as a friend. 
You're different, and that's fun to be around, but I don't curl up with my
stuffed tiger, and sigh myself to sleep at night dreaming about you.  I'M
TWELVE.  Things are starting to get all grody down there, my nipples ache,
and I hate this itchy fucking training bra, that's it.  I don't even want
to think about sex right now, and TBPH, the first boy I kissed turned out
to be molested by our Tinokos.  It's like a Youth Minister, or whatever."

   "So, you're not gay yet?" I sigh, and roll my eyes.  Uncle Danny said he
always knew, or there was something different when he was too young to
realize what.  Not, me, I'd been exposed to gays, I knew them, and that
still wasn't me.

   "I Don't Fucking Know!" I got up, felt like running, but that felt a lot
like denial.

   "Well," she calmed down, "Okay, what did you see when you looked at my
body?"

   I caught my breath, and thought about it.  "Like, you know, Seriously?
Huh, all right, TBPH, I noticed you shave.  I mean other then the boobs,
the thing that really stuck out is you had some stubble yesterday, and
today, you were smooth as a baby again for mister Meganekko Ecchi creepy
pants." Her face fell.  "All right, I'm sorry, again.  But don't you see,
this is exactly my point?  I don't even think about this stuff yet.  I'm
not ready to think about it, boys are still kinda grody, and scary, and
while I guess I feel more comfortable around you, it's because I have a
frame of reference.  Uh!" God, she could be so thick sometimes.  "It's like
foreshadowing, in English class?  Yeah, so I see you, and it's kind of like
looking in the future a couple years."

   Or a couple of years into the future.  "I'll have" I wave up, and down,
"That, or something like it whenever I grow up some more.  Maybe not so
tall, but boobs, and bras, and more then a couple hairs.  Hips, a waist,
I'm like a board right now, look at me." I flop my shirt up, real quick. 
Now I know I'm upset, on account of my grammer and sentence structure are
all shot to hell.  "I'm not going to be a kid much longer, and to tell the
truth, it's scary.  You said you started when you were what, 8?  You
remember what that was like?  You said yourself the boys noticed you, and
you didn't know how to handle it, and I'm a late bloomer, so that's where
I'm at right now.  So yeah, I guess I'm not gay yet, I don't know what the
hell I am, but a scared little girl." And now I wanted to dive under the
covers, pull them over my head, hug Khanny, and cry myself asleep.

   "Ohhh," she stood up, and hugs me, and I stared crying, but it felt a
little better to feel her pet my hair, and sooth me.  "And I really miss my
mom." Muffled in her shirt, I guess there was a little Denial in there.  I
sniffed, I hated her, of course.  The nasty stuff she said about Uncle
Phil, and her leaving us, and cheating on dad, and all those guys, and she
wasn't even a Jew!  She converted, Kind of a Semitophile, I guess.  I was
kind of mumbling all this in her chest, but it was blubbering muffled
gibberish, and I really needed to do this right now.  That's what was
wrong, I hated her, but she was my mommy, and dad didn't have anyone else
in his life, and quite honestly, I don't guess I wanted him to.  To compete
with her for his attention, just having the new store was almost like a
mistress, and no there wasn't any Edopus Complex in there, but I just lost
my mom, and I felt like I was losing dad, and the bare dead ground was
sideways so it felt like I was going to slide off into some bottomless dark
abyss, and I really Really needed this hug.

   "Snh!  And my glasses are all fogged up." I wiped my eyes, and dried
them off on my shirt.

   "Feel better?" she kissed my head.

   "A little." I put them back on.

   "Who's Connie?" she wondered.

   "Khanny," I giggled a little, "My tiger, you know Shere Khan from Jungle
Book?  Well, I got him when I was like 6, so I used to call him 'Khanny'."
And I just slipped back to childhood for a few.  "I didn't have any
brothers, and sisters, or anything." Mom said I had a crush on Mowgli, too,
it was like my favorite movie.

   Megan's Home {Gf NS}

   Okay, dad was getting a little thick around the middle, but like a short
Mario Batali.  Mega's dad didn't look like he could move.  He called
downstairs from the office "That you hunny?"

   "Just me, dad!" She took me up to meet him, and I saw what she ment
about why she didn't take me home.  Or smelled, really, my mom would die,
or her head would explode, or whatever.  I couldn't tell if they were
hoarders, or the maid was just buried in one of the piles, but then mister
Lowrey scooted back, and I expected a little joystick on the arm when he
turned around .  Don't think about Jabba the Hut, damnit!  Don't think. 
"Meghan, eh?" at least it wasn't that "Hohohoho!" laugh, he sounded reedy
and nazal, and would probably be pretty little if he wasn't like half fat.
"Our Megan told us so much about you."

   "Oh dad." She sounded so, disappointed.  So ashamed, and she looked
nervous.  "Come on, she pulled me out by the arm, and he turned back to the
page, or whatever.  Black screen, wall of text, no pictures, didn't look
nothing like Facebook, or Twitter.  We followed the noise to a door that
looked like a serial killer might hack through with an axe, and she pounded
on it.  "Jeremy!" She yelled through the racket, and it got louder when
Shrek opened it up.  Metal Dude, long hair, same light brown as her, but it
looked greasier, and split all the way to his scalp.

   "Hey," he leaned against the door, "Who's this?"

   "MegHan," she hit him, "And she's 12, you perve!  We're going to go
study, so you think you could dial it back so the ceiling don't cave in on
us?"

   "Sure," he gave her the finger, slammed the door, and cranked it louder.

   "What's with the hellboy goggles?" I wondered.  On top of his head, like
he was welding in there, or something.

   "Uh!" I followed her downstairs, "He's going through this 'Industrial
Dance' thing right now."

   "He can dance?" I wondered.

   "No," she scoffed, "On you tube." (Lucky he didn't come out with the
gas-mask on.)

   "Wh?"

   "Movies, a whole bunch of amatures, and re-posts, and lame-ass comments.
What've you been living under a rock, or something?"

   "Yeah, for about 3 days." That got a "Ha!"

   Okay, I didn't go to Bais Jaakov, or whatever, but I didn't explain it
to her.  "Mom thought the internet was of the devil, or something," and I
never really understood it, before.

   "Yeah, well I can pretty much come, and go whenever I want, so I'm here
to sleep, and that's about it, but I got an old laptop downstairs." In the
basement.  the den was like a storage room.  There's like a home-gym in
there, somewhere.  All kinds of stuff piled on it, and anything else level,
some bookshelfs, with jars I have no interest in investigating.  Then the
laundry room, and I mean a carpet of dirty clothes all the way across it, I
wanted to grab that box of tide, bury my face in it, and breathe it in, but
I just closed my nose instead.  "See what you mean" no wonder she didn't
feel dirty, and showered like 3 times a day.  It was a pig stie, except her
room.  It made mine look clean, it had a floor, bed, desk, TV/DvD, and a
computer folded open with some speakers, and mysterious boxes plugged into
it.  "It's a dynasaur," she touched a button in the middle of it looked
like a pencil eraser, and lights came on.  Then the screen started to.  I
hear a fan, or whatever spin up.

   "Uh?" Manga girl.  Not all Ecchi, but close.  She clicked on a little
rainbow circle thingy, and covered it with a Window.

   "Hm," she sat down, and flashed sparks.  Holding up a flame, she lit a
cigarette, and set it down.

   "You smoke?" The ceiling went ThwumpaThwumpaThwumpa overhead.  {SFX:
Ministry - Reload (Filthpig)}

   "Not really," she shrugged, "Just at home.  Don't really have any
incense."

   "Jeremy!" I jumped.

   "Megan's Home!" he yelled down.

   "Megan!" she yelled down the stairs.

   "IN A MINUTE!" over the din.

   "Megan, GET YOUR SKINNY BUTT UP HERE!"

   "IN A MINUTE!" she typed, and clicked real quick.  "Here, found it."

   "Close the door," I took over the chair, and stubbed out the smoking
butt.

   [Fecundy of Homosexuals, and Paternal Siblings: A genetic link? 
(Abstract)]

   I coughed, and tried to wave the smoke away from my eyes.  It was all
way over my head, so I moved the little pointer around with the eraser, and
hovered over the buttons at the top, like in computer class.  It was kind
of like "What kind of Jock sucks at Volleyball?" only it was Nerd, and
Internet respectively.  I get made fun of for my Phone, it's got buttons,
like the usual dozen, and the navigation circle with a couple more to turn
it off, and on.  "It doesn't even have a camera?  Ahahahahaha!" Yes, but
what if you want to dial 4?

   I clicked <Back< and then found History.  That looked good, but a bunch
of, Okay, that didn't look interesting, I didn't care for a lot of words
that popped up, or want to understand them too much.  Like "Gasper," it
wasn't like what's that Japanese "Boys Love" one mister creeper said, but
BDSM was probably an acronym for something.  Noooo!  <Back< Okay,
AnnaNet.org, uhm.  Okay, this was one of these Blog thingies, or whatever,
but they used a lot of code-words, about purging, self denial, some of them
sounded suicidal or talked about hurting themselves.  Then, I hit [Home]
and saw a picture of some skeletal woman.

   Anorexia, and Bulemia Support Network: The long road to beauty.

   Yyeeaah!  <Back<<back<

   The rest of it looked like all porn, only they weren't tied up, or
anything.  Hm, boys, girls, boys and girls, girls and girls, girls with
penises.

   I [x]ed out the window, and went to take a shower.  At least it was
clean, er in there.  It felt good to breathe some moisture in there, I
figured out why she didn't have any clothes stuffed under her bed, or in
the closet.  It was all thrown out her door, which didn't close, nor look
like it had in a long time.  The shower was plastic, but about the size of
the ones in the locker room.  It smelled bleachy, which I didn't mind that
much.

   Don't think about...  Yeah, right.  Okay, so think about the ones that
weren't totally horrifying.  Or not the pictures, I had someone I could
picture, and it wasn't that bad.  In her underwear, headded for the showers
after PE...  I took a deep breath, and, sort of, felt around, or whatever.
Ever since, I started, you know, "Getting a visit from my friend?" as mom
used to say.  I had to clean it out, or wipe after peeing, but that was
pretty much it.  It didn't feel like that, all gross, and scary, and I
don't want to think about.  "Huh." Okay, I rubbed my face.  "Everybody does
this." So I hear.  It doesn't come with an instruction manual.  It took me
months just to figure out how to clean out the.  Eww.

   Focus.  This just wasn't working, and I sure wasn't getting any cleaner.
So, I got out, found a towel, dried my hair, and tiptoed through the
laundry.  At least the laundry room door closed.  I went back to the
computer, brought up History again, and hit down down down until I got past
all the porn sights.  I stopped, put the pointer between 2 links, and went
back, and forth between them.  "Eeny," Molly Millions - Google Image
Search, and "Meenie," So that's how you spelled Wikipedia.

   Age of Consent in North America.

   Down down down to United States...  History, Federal Laws, Rules... 
State Laws.  Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas...  Click, and it jumped
down the page.  "Hm," 17, but.  15-16 with someone no more then 10 years
older, 14, and under less then 4 years older.  <Back< Molly Millions.

   Jonny Mnemonic, Costume, Mirrorshades, Case, Neuromancer, lots, and lots
of pictures.  Down, down, down.  Looked like none of them have any eyes,
which is creepy.  Some of them hold up their hand, and there's knives
sticking out of her fingers.  Here's one with kind of reddish hair, or
Hilites, as she calls them.  Click on it, same dead eyes, but like 8 more
pictures.  There's this one, standing in front of a neon skyline, but
instead of the dead eyes, she's got like frameless glasses, reflecting the
color of the sky.  {Like a TV tuned to a dead channel.  One of the Author's
favorites.  ;} Deviantart, I thought that was another porn site.

   She didn't look like me, at all, the hair was too brown, and short.  But
she had her hand over her chest, above the heart.  Short dark red nails,
and grey blade like daggers sticking out way past them.  "Aggro," as dad
would say.

   Or maybe,

   "Mega."

   "Hey," she appeared at the door, "Sorry, mom went out to Costco, and."
She stopped, put her hand on my shoulder.  It's not like I just stopped on
the photo, I figured out how to make it bigger, and IDK how long I was
looking at it, or in the shower.  "She uh, got a truckload of stuff."

   "Oh?" I clicked back, clicked on the Age of Concent button.  "So, why
were you looking for the Age of Consent?"

   "Go back to the History page." <back< "Okay, scroll right."

   "How do I?"

   "The arrows on the corner, under the Enter key."

   "Okay." >>>

   "I haven't been back in a couple days." Like before we went to visit her
'Master.' Of course he made her call him that.  Huh, when she told me how
her dad was afraid for her, I imagined he looked, well not like grown into
a chair.  Like her, only taller, short light brown hair, and mustache,
tall, and muscley or whatever.

   "Okay." I stood up, and turned around.  She looked at me, and her
eyebrows kind of went together.  I reached up, and took my glasses off,
with the hand that wasn't holding up the towel.  I blinked up at her, and
let it go.

   Mega {GF Saph Hand Cons.}

   I had a scream, it was locked up deep inside me.  Even I couldn't hear
it, just shrink back in fear.  From the creepers, and believers, peepers,
deceivers.  They could see the pain, and fed on it.  My soul, left me
hollow, dead inside.  Couldn't look in their eyes, until I found a pair,
that looked back.  They unlocked me, threw back the chains, and pierced the
door.  Deep within, they found my scream, and it filled me.  Her lips
pealed back mine, and it caught on my teeth.  It became a roar, unleashed,
and the world shrank back in fear.

   They scattered, fled in terror, then fell shattered.  Torn asunder by an
exploding heart.  They looked up, and their eyes fell on each other,
blasted back from mine.  They couldn't face it, choked, on their tears, and
drowned.  I had a scream, but there were none left to hear it, except for
you.  I peeled back my lips, and she smiled back.

   "Okay?" I kissed her head, and put my hand on her chest.  She looked
down, "What did you do to your nails?" I could feel her heart, racing
unbelievably fast.

   I sat on my bed, "Have a seat." but didn't push.  "Huh!" Facepalm.

   "You cut them off?" I scratched my leg.

   "Look, uh." fuck!  "I uh," why was this so hard?  "Hmh, I don't want to
give you the wrong idea, or.  uh." Damn it!  "Let you assume the right, uh
one."

   She sighed, and rolled her eyes.  I looked down, she's TWELVE!  "Can we
just take it slow?"

   "What." Not a question, "What can we take slow?" for me.

   "Uh!" she grunted, "This, us.  Okay, you're right, okay?  I think I'm in
love with you, or starting to, fall in love, and it's scary, but that's
what I think I love.  Ugh."

   Derp.  Okay, you ever think something, that's magnificent in your head,
and then you get there, and it's not.  Now, drop a crater around that.  I
guess there was some "You want to do this here, Now?" in there.  I just
wasn't ready is all.

   "Stand up," I sigh, "Let me have a look at you." Not much to work with.
I always thought about myself as some sort of artist.  Never really Talked
about it, because it's kind of hard to explain.  You know, abstract?

   "Painting?" Yeah, now take away the painting, the canvas, the studio,
the building, the background and the world.  "That's pretty abstract."
Yeah, so I don't know where to start.  "Okay?" she looked around.  "What
are you trying to say?"

   I think I need your help, looking for it.  All right, I don't know what
'It' is.  Maybe it's one of those teenager things, "I wanna be a rock star,
or a dancer, or a florist, or a cook." Your dad's good, I didn't know food
like that existed, much less that I could experience it.  "Nhn?" Look
around, this is what I had.  The freezer's packed with Lasanias,
mack&cheese, chicken encheladas.  Huuuuhn.  I had sex, with Harold. 
Horowicz.  Yeah, he took my virginity, that's it.  It was weeks ago.  You.
Your right.  He took advantage of me, when I was just about where you are
now.  Uh, damnit.  where?  here!  Look.  See what he saw, in me?  I'm
sorry, it's harsh, but look.

   She sat down, "I get it," held up her hand, "The food analogy, your
mirrorshades, but you forgot to mention 1 thing." She made all but a fist.
"Your not him."

   "No." I shook my head, "You don't get it."

   "No YOU don't get it!" she was on her feet.  "I don't want to fuck you.
Okay, maybe someday, but that's not what's important.  I love you, or I
want to.  This is just my body, I'm so over it.  Your whole casual nudity
thing?  Okay, I'm down.  But that's not what I'm offering you.  That's not
what I want from you." She stepped forward, reached out, and put her hand
on my chest.  Then she grinned, bent down, and kissed me.

   Then, it was kinda magnificent.  Her hand on my neck, under my hair.  It
wasn't like, 'Mwalm!' all tounges, and heavy breathing like in the movies.
She just kinda held her lips there, on mine, not tight, but relaxed, and I.
I really need to work on my words, I guess.  I mean, I'm doing good in
English, the second time around, but if there's words for it, they didn't
cover them yet, in middle-school.  She rubbed my neck, and I wanted to turn
into it, like a cat, and maybe start purring.  I remember my first time,
and that felt, like a nitemare, but not one of those where the monsters are
chasing me, or I look down, and I'm naked.  Nothing you can point to, and I
guess I didn't admit it was fear, at the time.

   I know I didn't want to make her feel like that, ever, and that was a
fear I could point to.  This time, I guess I have to think up a simile.  It
was like, I threw a rock down a well, and it just fell, without hitting
anything.  I know I'm no poet, or have any idea what a well feels like, a
'frame of referance' but that's the image it brings to mind.  Some girls
sing about Melting, but that sounds slow, not like falling, so yeah.  It
felt like falling, and splashing in the bottom.  I definitely felt it, down
there, and it was as sudden as a crash.  I think I fell in love with her,
or finally understood what that ment.

   "Mh!" I held her arm, and her side.  Intensely aware of what she was. 
It wasn't stronger then who, but I guess that was the little fear that
didn't go away.  Barely more than a child, not quite a teen.  I loved her,
now I was sure of it, but I couldn't overlook how young she really was. 
Just a couple years, but the important years, between a little girl, and a
young lady.  I didn't feel like a child molester, but I kept waiting for
it, kinda wondered what that felt like.

   And she felt like a child.  Really, kind of pudgy, not fat, but what
little she had, it puffed out her tummy, made her button poke in, and
looked like babyfat, which doesn't help.  Even her chest, she took my hand,
and held it over her heart again, and sighed.  My other hand shook on her
side, didn't want to move down to her hip, or back to her butt, or around
front.  Okay, I did.  But I hesitated.

   She wasn't fat, but besides the pink swollen points, her little cones
were more like pudge then real breast growth.  I moved my hand to one, felt
it flatten from the pinched cone, and the soft nipple.  She gasped a
little. "Sorry," I opened my eyes, "Still tender?" She blinked, and shook
her head.  Pushed her glasses back up.  She has a pretty big nose, but that
was something else the glasses kind of made up for.  Made her eyes look
huge, and she pushed into my hand more, so I felt up from her hip.  They
were pink, like the freckles around her neck, and shoulders.  She felt up
my arms, and pulled me in, kissed the side of my neck, and she sighed
pretty loud.

   "DINNER!" we jumped, "It's ready Everyone!" Dammit!

   "NOT HUNGRY!" But the mood was killed.  She giggled, and I let her go. I
did my chore, so she'd've left us alone all night, but it really hit home
that I was down here, kissing a naked 12 year old girl in my room.  It
broke the spell.

   "Come on," she sighed, and looked for clothes, "We have to eat." She
found some from the basket that weren't too baggy, and borrowed a belt. 
Chicken Enchaladas, my favorite!  or not as bland as the Mac&Cheese, or
Lasagna, or whatever.  I didn't hate it as much.  Famly size, I folded up
the rest, and stuffed it in the fridge.

   Gary {MGf NS.}

   "Hey, Megs!" She cut her hair.

   "Mega." And was starting to get moodier.  My Meghan told me she was,
like 14.

   I laughed, "I ment both of you."

   "Hey dad?" I looked down.  "Can we go shopping?" Not a single fathers
favorite words.  "I need new clothes."

   "What's" They looked fine, but I don't like the way her voice fell.

   "She's getting picked on," Mega' spoke up, "She's in middle school, and
the girls, some of them are pretty Vicious."

   "Okay," I checked my watch, "Kind of have to get set-up for the weekend
rush, what's the timeframe?" 9-5 people, a lot of them don't realize that
what I do is feed them when they're off work, which means not really
Monday-Friday.  "This is the big Under New Management weekend, kinda a big
deal."

   "School's out 'till monday," she looks up at her.

   Mega puts on her sun-glasses, "All right," points at me, "You're from
the valley," cocks back her thumb, "You know how this works." and Giggles.
"Hand-over the plastic."

   "Yeah right!" I can't help laughing.

   "Come on dad," she hopped, "It's been 12 Years!" I'd gotten her new
clothes, "Look at these, I'm like a school-girl, all I need is pigtails for
them to yank."

   I sigh, "I have been dreading this day," pulled out my moneyclip, "This
is $200.00" counted out 10 bills, "And a test." I held them up.

   "Love you daddy!" I had to pick her up so she didn't yank my head off,
Mega' slipped her finger under the bills, and pinched them with her thumb.

   "She get's the money, everything's her call, nobody'd think she'd be
carrying that much." Or, admittedly thinking of fucking with her.  Okay
Anne Burrell hair, looks nothing like her, by the way.  Only brown, shiny
aviator style glasses, cheap gas station knockovs, I'm guessing Hot.  If
you make it out of the parking lot, they're probably not chasing you down
for $5.99, plus tax.  Jean jacket, "Is that a knife?"

   "No, mister Mitchel," so formal!  "It's a chunk of rebar, wrapped in
tape.  A knife is dangerous." So, punk rrRRAW!  She's been wearing mostly
pastels since I met her, like I said, 14.  3 years of Krav Maga.  "Keep her
safe."

   "And out of trouble," she nodded, "No problem, Gary!?" Can't keep up the
act, but I guess I felt a little safer with a wannabe punk that doesn't
have to shoplift this trip, and won't do anything worse to get a ride home
with the cops.  Tonite.

   Mega {Gf Nude Fond, NS}

   I guess I should have been proud of Jeremy, finding a girlfriend. 
Actually got out of the house, and talked to one, without her running,
screaming away.  Couldn't last, so might as well cash in on the discount.
At the "Spa" or a barbershop with a sprinkle of pretention, the halloween
theme is probably the reason behind her irrational lack of fear.  Eyebrow
stud, lip ring, black dye, lips, nails, and eyes.  Maybe she was attracted
to creepers, IDFK, they were perfect for each other.

   So anyway, she did mine at home, down in the bathroom, worked in some
hilites that were almost, but not quite a color found in nature.  In the
Spa, Meghan got up, rubbed the back of her neck, and tried twisting around
to see the back.  "Here," Mona's rings clicked around the handle of the
mirror, but she showed her.  Kind of a high arch, so high she had to shave
a little with the clippers, and low sharp looking wings around her face. 
She picked up her glasses, and put them on.

   "What d'ya think?" Her head tilted, so one of the wings swung out to
brush her shoulder.  I payed the twelve bucks, and stepped out of the AC.
The hot came back, with a vengance.  A little teaser of fall, then Gotcha!
Hell on earth.

   Meghan {Gfff, NS}

   "Pft!" I hear them coming, "Here's little Microbitchel." Somebody payed
attention in math class!  "I didn't know Avril Lavigne had a new album out.
Ahahahahaha."

   "Where's Megaego?" Smarmy.

   "Id." I sighed.  "Right behind you, duh!" They looked, and I was gone.

   "Scared little Brat!" And your little dog...  Whatever.

   Down the hill from the back goal, there was a little, not really a
valley, more of a ditch, and around the corner, we could at least get away
from everyone.  And hear the bell.  I stopped out of site, put down my
backpack, and just stood there, reading Burning Chrome.  Not really as
good, I kind of like the back-story, and see why she's into the whole
cyberpunk think.  No razorgirl nails yet, nor cybersnake, I love it when
she calls me YT.  Not where anyone can hear, take it as "Whiitey," The
cybernetic scateboard would be kinda cool, I'll settle for a fixie, and a
courior bag with RadiKS stensled on in Sharpy.  Still don't know what we're
looking for, but it's as good a place to start as any, secondhand, and army
surplus stores are a gold-mine.  Still got like half the cash he gave us
for shopping.

   I drop the book when I feel the arm across my shoulders, gripping one
tight, and pulling in.  I grab her wrist, drop, and twist, just like she
showed me, and go for 2 points of contact.  Shoulder, hip, try to get her
center of gravity over, and past mine.  "Not bad," she holds me.

   "I knew it!"

   "Damn you, Tyler!" She relaxed, moved closer, "Do it."

   "NhnNH!" I threw her, but she rolled, and popped back up with a
quickness.  Of course, she helped, that time, but still.

   "I'm just teaching her to fight," she started up the hill.  "You stupid,
inbred, jerkass pile of shit.  You really think we climbed down in a dirty
ditch to make all your lesbo fantasies come true?"

   "No?  And don't call me that, Shit!"

   "Here," she held her hand up, took his, and punched him in the gut. 
"Hrn!  Let me show you." He tumbled, down, kicking up a lot of dust, and
jumped out of the way.  Now, I'm a lover, not a fighter, just not all that
into the idea of being victimized.

   "You bitch!" he got up, so I tried to stay behind him, but she was
running, back down the hill.  A lot of dirt, and clods came with her, and
she jumped before the bottom to tackle him.

   "Watch!" she socked him, "Your MOUth!"

   "Get off me!" he threw her aside, but he's a lot bigger then her. 
Probably not the only one held back, and he's a boy.  "Crazy bitch!" She
backed up, but he ran after her, and I backed up the other hill to watch.
He landed on her, but she rolled up on the slope, and grabbed him with her
legs.

   "Oh, I'm a bitch!" She twisted,back, and forth, until he fell over, got
up on 1 knee, "But if you Ever!" and came down on an elbow "Call me a
Dyke!" then kicked him in the side with her knee, "Or Lesbo," he grabbed
her arms, and tried to roll her over, but she twisted around, so it either
had to be uphill, or snap his legs.  "I'll make you a girl." No strikes,
she just held him down.  "You hear me?  That's the deal.  You ever call me
gay again, or her, and your FUCKED!  Now LET go of me." She jumped up, and
backed off.

   And, I guess that's how the rumor really took hold.  Of course, it was
an empty threat, and he was too stupid to realize she was probably capable
of it.  I don't know how much of that was Krav Maga, and how much of it was
rage, but she was getting fucking Aggro.  "Sorry about that," she dusted
off her clothed, checked her elbows, which were pretty bloody, and caked
with dirt.  "He's got a thing for me."

   "I know."

   "No, we go back to like 4th grade together.  He had a crush on me back
then, used to chase me, wrote a shitty poem, and came into My class to give
it to me on Valentines.  It was embarassing all around, and he's been
escalating ever since.  He's got this big "Be a man!" dad, real dick, he'll
be great for football, if he ever gets to highschool.  Not failing PE." No,
probably not.  "Anyway, next time, try to get the side of your foot into
their shin, here.  Let me grab you again, now." She reached down to tap my
leg.  "Kick back until you feel the shin.  Yeah, that's it, but if you want
to hurt someone, you have to kick harder." She let me go.  "If you follow
that down, and get your heel into the top of there foot.  Stomp down as
hard as you can, put all your weight on it, and you might could pop a few
bones loose.  Most people don't know this, but over half of the bones in
the body are in our hands, feet, and spines.  That's a lot of joints, and
you can do a lot of damage the more you fuck up in there.  Then, you might
be able to use that opening to throw someone whose bigger, and stronger,
and knows how to not get thrown.  Tyler's also been wrestling for years in
the off season, for example, but I've been fighting him for years, and he's
pretty predictable.  Also, every time I humiliate him, it pisses him off
more.

   "Now, go to class," She kissed my forehead, "I have to go report a fight
before he does.  Maybe he'll get expelled.  It's a lot worse when a 14 year
old boy attacks a 14 year old girl, and he's got the history of violence,
anyway."

   Statute of Limitation {ff Saph}

   We skipped lunch, whenever I started bringing real food from home.  We
figured there was just no reason to sit around in the Cafeteria, and we
could find somewhere to be alone, together.  What I wouldn't give for some
woods, some leaves for the breeze to whisper through, or a breeze.  Uh, it
was so hot, and dry.

   "I know, right?" She took my hand as soon as the smokers were out of
site.  "I been looking into the Statute of Limitations, and you know there
is none when the victim is under 14?"

   "Makes sense," I shook my head, "You're planning on reporting your."

   "Huh!" I could almost hear her eyes roll, "Not him, uh!"

   "Who?" I stopped her, and took her other hand.

   "Tyler," she looked away, "In 7th grade, he got all hormonal again, and
when he was finally bigger than me.  Well," She looked the other way,
"That's the real reason dad sent me to train."

   "You told him, but you didn't tell the cops?" She shook her head, and I
reached up to wipe a tear away.  "And Markowics, he didn't."

   "He tried." She shook her head, "I mean, yeah he felt me up, and all,
but when he got down there." Her chin wrinkled up, "Hhich!  God, it made me
feel so ugly!"

   "But he didn't," I searched for the proper word, "Deflower you?" She
looked confused, "I mean, you're still a virgin?" She shook her head, and
didn't say anything.  "Tyler?"

   "Uhnhnhnhnh!" It was heartbreaking to see her so, I don't know.  Usually
she's so strong, and confident, and beautiful.

   "You know you're not ugly," I held her out, "Right?" She sniffed,
"You're beautiful, I always thought so, even before my envy bloomed into,
you know I love you."

   "Me to." She sniffed again, "I mean I love you too."

   I laughed, "And I didn't have my heart set on being your first,
neither." A little.  It wasn't funny.

   "But you are."

   I nodded, "I want you to be my first," I took my glasses off.  She
kissed me.  "Not here, now of course, but some day."

   "Do you," she looked down, lower.

   "I think so," I hugged my face on her chest.  Not in it, but above them,
it was remarkably hard, and boney.  "I've been trying, but it's not the
same." As whenever she touched me.  "It's kinda like trying to kiss a
pillow.  Or whatever."

   "Well, what did you try?" She hugged me back, and rubbed my, well back.

   "I don't know, I just, you know, felt it.  And rubbed it.  And my
chest."

   "You are developing," she slipped her fingers in between us.

   "I know," I felt around her sides, "But not like you." I stopped wearing
training bras, though, so they weren't squished so flat.

   "Hn!" I love her sigh.  Where whole voice, really, it's kind deep for a
girl, and sometimes cracks, but not like a boy, and she's still growing
too. I can't wait to see how she turns out.  She opened her lips, and I
opened my eyes.  "Wrlk?" Her tongue was wet, and pebbly, like her nipples.
I sighed through my nose, and felt down to pull out her shirt.

   Maybe, some day.  I don't want to get all huge, like my mom, and hers.
God, she has back problems, but I bet her belly weighs more.  Not like
Mega, her tummy is nice and flat, and her sides curve in over her hips.  I
love her hips.  I pulled back, and took a deep breath.

   "Tyler raped you." She closed her eyes, and nodded, her lips tight, and
her chin wrinkled again.  "I know, but I had to say it, to make sure.  I've
been reading too, but these cases are, statistically depressing.  I don't
know if anyone can promise you justice, or closure, or whatever."

   "I know," she was practically raised on the internet, and says 'Google's
right there.' No wonder she's got so much rage against him.

   "Nhnhnhin!" I felt her fingertips, and my little hairs, tickling in my
panties.

   "Sorry," they dug in a little when she pulled them out.  "Uh, you just
made me real horny." But the bell rang, so we had to run back.  The bad
boys harassed us on the way back, called us the usual names.  Everyone knew
by now anyways.  Denying it's as bad as confirming it.  Mega was late for
class for chasing them until they're out of breath, and so was I for
watching them, and giggling.  "Smokers," she ran back smiling, and kissed
me breathlessly.  I held her hips.  "Now get to class," she kissed my
forehead.

   Mega {F Solo Saph Fant.}

   Oh well, I guessed I was late anyway, right?  And I was so wound up
from, talking to you, and all the memories, and how you felt, and chasing
boys.  LOL, it's funny really.  You know I can't really talk about it,
without crying too hard, but I found I can maybe write about it now. 
Whenever it gets too dark, and scary I can think about you, and it's like
you're right there with me, telling me it's all right, it'll all be good.

   I don't know why they hurt so much, the names?  It's just whenever
someone calls me that, it's like a flashback, to when I was hurt, and it
makes me hurt all over again.  But you said it, you told me you loved me,
and that's like all I need to know.

   I love you.

   And that makes all the other words go away.  Like when I'm with you,
there's now world, or ground, or rock, or dirt or people.  There's just
you, and I, and the sky.  IDK why the sky doesn't go away too, but I
imagine endless blue around me.  I mean us, you're part of me now, I can't
exist without you.

   And I never want you to hurt like that, not ever.  I mean it, I would
die if I just saw you cry a single tear.  Okay, this isn't a poem, Megan. I
need to deal with this, and fuck pre-algebra.  Pardon my french.  Not sure
if I can salvage this year at this point anyway, so it's kinda like being
late.  Fuck it, right?

   Nh?  And now I went and offended myself.  I don't know if I ever want to
feel someone inside me ever again.  I can't imagine being pregnant, I know
you'd never do that to me, but I can imagine you all bulging out, with
child as they say.  I bet you'd be a wonderful mother, and it would be
sooooooo cute if the babies looked just like you.  Why am I even writing
about babies now when you're barely even a teenager?

   Oh yeah, happy birthday.  I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier, but I guess
I was distracted.

   Meghan {FF Roma Saph}

   Oh!  You know, it's funny but I completely forgot too?  Thank you, it's
perfectly arbitrary, but you're hurting, and that's so much more important.
I love how you said, what was it?  I have to read it again, there was so
much wonderful stuff in there amongst the pain, and hate like commercials.
Uh, what a crappy simile, but my Social Studies teacher says I'm getting
better.

   What words?  What's the worst things they can say to you?  It is things,
plural, right?  But anyways, like you said, think of me, and I'll be right
there, so you can write them down if not say them alloud.  Oh, and the
other thing, where you said how the world went away?  It's like that for me
too, I totally feel it, whenever we kiss, or I even look in your eyes.

   You think the Molly Mirrorshades thing is like a defense mechanism?  I
mean I get it, she's a badass, and aggro like you, but the cyberoptic
insets, and her nails.  Thank you for cutting your nails for me, I said it,
so now we're even.  Maybe I can get a nail file after school, mine broke
when we're wrestling.

   Oh yeah, did you report tyler yet?  I'm sorry, I know there's no statute
of limitations, I had to look that one up, but the longer you wait, the
less likely you'll get any kind of favorable outcome from it.  I just want
him to stop, I never want him hurting another girl ever again, but he
sounds a lot like a Stalker, and I read that they're most likely to
re-offend the same victim again.

   Not you of course, you'd kick his ass, but how long can you keep kicking
his ass over, and over?  What if he gets lucky, or surprises you, or comes
up with some evil plan with drugs, or weapons?  Oh yeah, and do you think
he has any more victims?  I don't want to see you hurt again, and I know I
can't protect you.  You make me feel safe, and I love it when you kiss my
head, and shoo me off to class.  Not like my mother, she never ever did
that, but it makes me not miss her any more.  I need to work past that, and
how much I hate her too, but later.  Right now your abuse is more
important.

   Mega

   "Dyke." I hate that one.  Tyler called me that whenever he.  I know,
you're right here with me, it will all be all right.  The first time is
when he tried to kiss me, but I pushed him off.  Then he, when he.  Meghan.
With an H.  I love your glasses.  Huh, he jumped me.  He called me gay
again, but he said he would, he could.

   "There, now your not gay no more." Or something like that, I don't
remember exactly how he said it, but that's what he ment.  He could rape me
straight.  And you know, I always knew?  I never even really wanted to be
straight.  I don't understand them, at all, but they're all over the place.
The whole american dream of getting married, and buying a big house, and
having a whole bunch of straight kids to do it all over again.  o It sounds
like heaven.

   Boring!

   Hell doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun, neither, but it's like
elves, and fairies, and giants, and dragons, and stuff.  Bullshit, humbug,
a whole bunch of made-up stuff.  Or your, I don't understand the whole
Jewish religion, even as well.  But like you said, it's all just a
convenient place for child molesters to hide.

   Oh yeah, and "Slut" is the other one.  That's what he called me, when he
felt I wasn't a virgin.  I'm pretty sure that's what he wanted from me, and
when I didn't have it to give him, he got all mad, and said all these nasty
things, but in a word, a slut.  He didn't beat me up, or ever touch me
again, except in training.  He even stopped feeling me up so much.

   Yeah, we totally need to shut him down.  He's got a whole dojo of kids
he works with.  Adults too, but he probably doesn't do anything to them. 
He could, better send the SWAT team to pick him up, he's killed a lot of
Palastinians, and Hamas, he has the medals to prove it.  He grew up there,
in Israel, mandatory service, but not MOSSAD, or anything.

   I love your dad, he's so great and I can see so much of you in him.  I
wish I had a dad like that, he makes me feel better about the rest of the
Jews.  You're not all passive aggressive perverts.

   I love you, Meghan.

   .

   .