Date: Sun, 26 Oct 2003 01:12:15 -0700
From: RC in Sacramento <sacwriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: Becka the Beast, Chapter 22

This is a work of fiction from a first time author. It depicts acts of sex
and sexuality between two teenage females. If such content disturbs you, or
you are under 18, get out and stay out. As always, this story can only be
reproduced by consent of the author.

			Becka the Beast
			 by Sacwriter

Chapter 22***


	Dinner at the Cameron house was a sober event that evening, and only two
people knew why that was. Gia and Becka's happy chatter had already become a
constant at the evening meal, and it's absence was quickly noted by both
their father and their brothers. Becka was polite but quiet, answering any
question put to her, but not asking any in return, a radical departure from
her usual curiosity. Gia was even worse, her attitude was so withdrawn that
it was almost sullen. When questioned her answers were grunts and
monosyllables, while she stared holes in her plate and picked at her food.
The rest of the family noticed too, and began to tiptoe around her as if in
a minefield.
	Finally about halfway through the meal she murmured an apology to her
father and asked to be excused, and then fled from the table. All eyes
followed her retreating figure, and then in unison turned to look at Becka.
But now it was the blonde girl's turn to stare at her plate, and so the
silence wore on, everyone burning with curiosity, but no one willing to be
the first one to break it.
	Finally the meal ended, and after the table was cleared Becka found herself
alone in the kitchen, rinsing dishes and putting them into the washer. She
wasn't particularly surprised when the door opened and her father came in,
his big frame passing through the doorway in that delicate way he had of
moving, like a big cat, confident in it's power. He stood there for a while,
leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting
patiently while his newest little girl finished her job. When she finally
turned off the tap and closed the washing machine's door, he looked at her
with one raised, expectant eyebrow, and then finally spoke.
	"So you wanna tell me what happened?"
	Becka sighed, then walked over and rested her head on the big man's
shoulder. Just as she knew they would, his arms unfolded and wrapped
themselves around her, his lips pressing briefly against the curly blonde
hair on the top of her head. Wearily, she soaked his presence up like a
sponge before answering.
	"Nothing you can fix, Dad. Gia just got a taste of reality, and she didn't
like it one bit."
	She pulled away from him and stepped back, leaning against the counter in
silent imitation of the older man. Then she told him about the events of
that afternoon, which left her father shaking his head sadly.
	"Damn, I shoulda seen it coming."
	"You couldn't have known, Dad."
	"You did. And I've known her a hell of a lot longer. I know how she
sometimes sees the world the way she thinks it should be, and what happens
when it finally catches up with her. No, I shoulda seen it coming."
	Becka shrugged. "And done what? Gia would have set herself up for this no
matter what we did, just like there's nothing we can do now. She thought
everybody would accept her and me the way you do. Now she's gonna find out
they don't, and that's gonna hurt too."

	Phil Cameron grunted, knowing that she was right. Some things you just
can't protect people from, even the ones you love. You could only watch them
get knocked down, and then step in and help pick up the pieces. But he
didn't have to like it, not one damned bit.
	Phil looked at Becka fondly, and with pride. She grinned when he reached
out and brushed an errant strand of hair from her face.
	"You're pretty smart, you know that? You must get that from my side of the
family."
	Becka laughed out loud, and then once more folded herself into his arms.
She gave him one more fierce hug and whispered in his ear, "Love you, Papa
Bear," and then let him lead her out of the kitchen to the rest of the
family. Phil knew that he needed to tell his sons what was wrong with their
sisters, before they started asking their own questions. He had raised some
good boys, but subtlety was not one of their virtues.

				* * *

	Becka stood outside the door to her and Gia's room, hesitant to enter,
wondering if she should knock first. But that, she decided firmly, was just
ridiculous. She had as much right to be in that room as Gia did, dammit, and
if she wanted to sulk she could go somewhere else to do it. Besides, this
was getting to be way too much. Becka pushed open the door and went in to
confront the little brat.
	Becka stopped as she stepped through the doorway, blinking in the
unexpected gloom. The lights were out, and the only illumination came from
the hallway behind her. She knew then that Gia must have gone to bed
already, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. Besides, she was pretty
sure that Gia wouldn't be asleep yet. She looked over at the bed, and then
felt her anger turn to bile in the back of her throat.
	She and Gia had slept in the new bed ever since the night they had come out
to the family, and first made love on it. But although the carefully spread
cover had been pulled away, not only was Gia not in it, neither was her
pillow. Instead, both were now firmly planted in Gia's old bed, the other
girl's back turned defiantly away from the door, and also from the other
occupant of that room. The message was obvious; Gia wanted to be alone.
	Becka felt her anger turn into a cold fury, which left her with both teeth
and fists clenched. Damn that spoiled little---alright, if it was the silent
treatment she wanted, then Becka would give it to her, in spades!
	Becka flicked the wall switch and flooded the room with light, slamming the
door as she stomped in. She stopped in the middle of the floor and started
to undress, almost tearing her clothes off in her rage at Gia's antics. She
balled them up one by one and hurled them into a corner until she was down
to her panties, and then took one of her brother's old T-shirts from the
dresser to use as a nightshirt, a practice she had copied from Gia. After
she had put the T on, she turned out the light and crawled into her own bed,
pausing to pound the pillow a few times with her fist, and then lay down
with her back towards the other bed and it's occupant. For a long time the
ragged sound of her breath hissing in and out of her nose like a bellows and
seemed to echo in the room, before she finally drifted off to sleep.
	Gia never said a word.

				* * *

	It was hot and stuffy in the bungalow, the way it got during summer when
the old man wouldn't let her turn on the AC. The curtains had been drawn,
making the interior of the house even more gloomy, creating shadows that
seemed to move with their own sinister life. The place looked larger, the
way it did when she was just a little kid, and when she looked down at her
body she realized that once again she was.
S	he was also wearing a dress, a black one with somber folds and lace at the
throat. Black lace. It was a funeral dress, the one Mrs. Hughes, the cat
lady from down the street, had made for her for her mother's memorial
service.
The one her old man had torn off of her the first time he had raped her.
	The fear in her belly suddenly rose to lodge in her throat like a large and
jagged stone, blocking her breath and making her head pound with the beating
of her heart. She heard the sound of raucous male laughter, harsh and cruel,
and yet also like a whisper whose direction she couldn't quiet determine.
She whirled around, panicking. But the laughter and the voices always seemed
to be behind her, just beyond her sight, either miles away or maybe hidden
in the shadows just past the tip of her nose. The shadows that were even now
beginning to move.
	She turned and ran, fleeing down the hallway to the safety of her room, or
even better, the daylight outside in the backyard. But the short hallway was
now stretched impossibly long, fading into the distance, never getting any
closer no matter how hard she ran. Hands seemed to appear in the darkness,
grasping at her, groping her body, trying to pull her down. She whimpered
and cried out as she struggled through the clutching, faceless phantoms,
desperately trying to outdistance them, to escape from the all too familiar
hell.
	She almost made it, the light etched outline of the back door had appeared
just ahead of her. She reached for it, and then saw that it was blocked by
the figure of a man. She felt herself scream in mindless terror as she ran
headlong into Ralph Danning's grinning form...

	The scream shocked Gia out of whatever dreams she had been having, like a
bucket of ice water on her warm bare skin. She sprang up in her bed, her
heart pounding, wasting a few precious seconds trying to locate Becka in the
dark of the room. She finally made out the thrashing figure in the other
bed, and heard her lover scream again as she fell from the bed and onto the
floor.
	Gia fumbled her way out from under the confining covers, frantic to get to
Becka, terrified by that God awful scream. She finally managed to scramble
out of her bed and around the other one just as Becka was rising to her
feet, her back to Gia and her face hidden by her disheveled hair. Gia
reached for her lover as she called out her name.
	"Becka! Becka, are y---," she cried, but her words were chopped short as
the other girl whirled around like an animal. Concern had dulled Gia's
reactions, and she barely saw the fist that smacked into her face with a
meaty sound, sending her spinning to the floor in a stunned heap.

	Becka stood there swaying, confused, her heart still pounding from the last
remnants of the nightmare. She could still feel the hands that had pawed at
her from out of the shadows. Adrenaline coursed through her body like a
drug, it's aftereffects leaving her shaky and drenched in sweat. She blinked
gummy eyes and peered at the darkness, trying to orient herself, to remember
where she really was. She started to rub at her face, and that's when she
felt the stinging pain in her hand.
	"B-b-becka?" It was a small, hesitant voice, that seemed to come from
somewhere down by her feet. She looked in that direction, and finally saw
the crumpled figure with blood drooling down the corner of its mouth. And
like the flash of a camera, memory and realization burst over her, followed
by a guilt riddled horror.
	Gia. She had hit Gia.
	And she had hurt her.

	At that moment the door to the room  opened, and Phil Cameron burst in, a
hulking figure wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms and an anxious look. He
had heard the screaming coming from his daughter's room, even through the
heavy insulating curtain he had put up, his fatherly instincts dragging him
from sleep and pushing him out into the hallway before he even realized why.
Now he stood in the doorway of the bedroom and flicked on the wall switch,
taking in the tableau caught in the sudden wash of electric light.
	Gia was sprawled on the floor and Becka was standing over her, but not for
very long. As he watched the bigger girl let out a choked sob of anguish,
covering her face with her arms and sinking to the ground on her knees. Her
movements were eerie, not as if she had sat down, or had even collapsed. It
was more like she had crumbled, fallen apart piece by piece, like a
sandcastle caught in the rain. Phil realized then who he had heard
screaming, even as Gia scrambled across the rug to wrap her arms around the
traumatized girl.
	Phil stood there helplessly, not knowing what to do. This was his little
Becka, the wild girl who was now as much a daughter to him as his own flesh
and blood. She was rocking back and forth and moaning, saying "I'm sorry I'm
sorry I'm sorry," over and over again like a litany. Gia was murmuring
reassuring words to her, trying to sooth her in a way that suddenly brought
up a long lost memory to Phil's mind. His Lupe, making the same noises to
their daughter, after Gia had woken up from a bad dream. Phil didn't need an
instant replay to know what had just happened.
	Gia finally looked up at him, and for the first time he saw the blood on
her face and the lip that was already beginning to swell. He quickly gauged
the damage with a professional's eye, and realized that it wasn't too bad.
He had seen his scrappy little daughter take much worse hits in the dojo
many times.
	"You all right, hon?" he asked, softly.
	Gia sighed. "We will be, Oso."
	Phil nodded, accepting her statement. He stepped into the room and bent
down, helping Gia lift the other girl off the floor and over to the bed.
Becka had stopped her moaning refrain, and instead was silently crying. Gia
sat down next to her on the bed and held her tight, still murmuring
reassurances and unknowingly doing it in her mother's voice. Phil stood
there, feeling his heart being torn out by the roots, and knowing that there
wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Eventually he backed out of the
room, closing the door behind him. The last thing he did was to turn out the
lights.

				* * *

	Becka sat on the bus stop bench, rubbing at the gooseflesh on her arms,
wishing that she had worn a jacket. She shivered in the chill morning air,
hugging her book bag to her chest, and trying not to look at the figure next
to her. She knew that Gia was doing the same thing, huddling in on herself,
and even though they were less than a foot apart, neither of them seemed
willing to cross that distance.

				* * *

	They had gotten up like that when the alarm clock had rung, pulling away,
unable to connect, or maybe just unwilling. They had showered and dressed
separately, in total silence, and then gone downstairs as if they were
strangers.
	Breakfast had been more of the same, only with the addition of an audience.
Their father had kept his own silence, respecting what they were going
through and willing to let them handle it in their own way. But the boys
didn't know what had happened the night before, they hadn't heard Becka's
screams or seen the blood on Gia's face, and this morning she wore makeup so
they couldn't even see the bruised lip. But they knew that something was
wrong, and curiosity and concern were obviously eating them alive. Only
their father's pointed looks kept them from opening their mouths and butting
in. The girls had finally grabbed their bags and left for the bus stop
twenty minutes early, just to get out from under the weight of their unasked
questions.

				* * *

	The first half of the twenty minute wait for the school bus went by in more
of the uneasy silence, with both girls locked uncomfortably inside of their
own thoughts. Becka didn't know what was in Gia's mind, but her own guilt
and shame could only put one spin it. She had struck Gia, knocked her down
and hurt her. She had woken up from her nightmare like some sort of wild
animal, and hadn't even recognized the other girl before she had beaten her
to the ground. She was still a monster, still 'Becka the Beast'. New clothes
and people caring about her hadn't changed a damned thing. She knew it now,
and after last night Gia had to know it, too. That was what the silent
treatment was all about this morning. The most important person in her
world, the first one who had ever seen any worth in her at all, was now
afraid of her. Becka had obviously been living a lie, and last night it had
been stripped away from her like a stolen overcoat.
	Becka had so wrapped herself in such gloomy thoughts that at first she
didn't hear Gia when she spoke. The small girl beside her finally had to
touch her hand with hesitant fingertips to get her attention. When Becka
finally looked at her, Gia repeated her words in a quivery voice, that
threatened to crack at any moment.
	"Becka, I said...I said I am so very, very sorry!"
	For a second Becka was puzzled, unable to comprehend what Gia had just
said. But then the reason behind the words became apparent, and she felt her
lips begin to thin with resentment. Dammit, she may be an animal, but she
still had some pride!
	"Stop playing me, Gia," she growled through clenched teeth. "I'm not an
idiot, no matter what you think."
	Gia looked at her, hurt and confused, a frown on her face. "What...?" she
began, but the other girl cut her off, her angry words clipped and scornful.
	"I'm the one who hit you, remember? So you apologizing to me is just plain
dumb! I scared you, Gia, just like I scared Justine and Kelly, and everybody
else at school. You saw what I'm really like, and now you're afraid of me,
afraid that I'll go apeshit or something. Just like everybody else is."
	She said the last words bitterly, her self loathing etched deep into her
young face. She was staring fixedly down at the ground between her feet,
refusing even to look at the girl who had been her lover, but who probably
never would be again. Which is why she never saw what happened next.
	Becka felt Gia's body slam into her shoulder with a stunning force that
drove the air from her lungs, and also sent her sprawling off of the bench
and onto the hard ground beside the road. She lay there, gasping, her eyes
bulging in at the force of the attack. She rose to her elbows and blinked
several times, trying to focus on the tiny figure that now stood over her,
glaring down.
	"Damn you, Becka Jackson, sometimes you can be so arrogant!  Do you really
think that this," she said, pointing at the side of her face with it's
makeup covered bruising, "is enough to make me afraid of you? Maybe you've
forgotten about how I kicked your ass the first time we met. Or how I kicked
Toni Brightman's ass a couple of weeks later. Let me tell you something,
Becka, I have been hit harder by the ten year old kids in the classes I
teach at the dojo. And the fact is, that even after all I've taught you, you
still hit like a girl!"
	Becka tried to speak, but the words just wouldn't come out. All she could
do was to gawk up at Gia, opening and closing her mouth several times like a
fish on a sandbank. Only with a great deal of effort did she finally manage
to reply.
	She burst out laughing.

	Gia turned her head away from the girl on the ground, but it was only
because she didn't want Becka to see the smile that she was fighting to keep
off of her own face. It was inevitable that she lose that battle, and when
she did she found herself sharing an identical, face cracking grin with the
woman she loved, who was still lying on her back and covered in the dirt and
grime and dead leaves of the bus stop. Gia thought that she had never looked
more beautiful.
	"You said I hit like a girl," Becka accused, a smirk on her face.
	"Yeah, well you do. You hit like a sissy."
	"Yeah, well, you're a girl, too."
	"Yeah, but I'm not a sissy."
	"So says the one who's wearing makeup."
	"Well, that's only 'cause you marked up my face, little girl."
	"And how could I do that if I'm such a sissy?"
	"Well...it was a lucky shot, that's all."
	"Ha! In your dreams. Face it, Cameron, you're really just a wimp."
	"Hey!"
	"A chicken wimp."
	"You better take that back, Jackson!"
	"Chicken wimp. Buck-buck-buck-buu-ck!"
	"Oh, that does it!"
	With a roar Gia launched herself on top of the other girl, and soon they
were both rolling on the ground in mock combat. They were shouting curses
and making dire threats, having a great time, and getting themselves as
dirty and disheveled as any pair of five year olds after a day in the sand
box. It was a realistic performance, and it truly looked like the two girls
were intent on killing each other. Which was the sight that greeted everyone
on the school bus when it pulled up a moment later.

	"HEY! Damn it, you kids, break it up now, you hear? Don't you make me come
down off this bus!"
	Although the squeal of airbreaks hadn't penetrated their mood, the bus
driver's threat did. That, and all of the catcalls that came from the
students who clustered eagerly around the windows facing the two combatants.
They quickly broke apart and stood up, dusting themselves off and looking
embarrassed. 	Gathering up their bags, they tried to get aboard the vehicle
and take their seats, but were stopped just past the folding doors. The bus
driver, a large and beefy woman of about forty or so, glared up from her
seat, and then spoke loud enough for all the other riders to hear.
	"Now you kids listen to me. I don't care what problems you two have with
each other, but this is my bus, and I won't have any fighting on it! If you
girls can't get along, then you just turn right around and go home, 'cause I
won't have any of that crap here. Do I make myself clear?"
	Becka looked at Gia, and then shrugged, their silent communication once
more kicking in, now that they knew their problems weren't going to tear
them apart. They started to edge towards each other, as Becka looked down at
the angry driver and replied.
	"Yeah, we understand, but you've got it all wrong. We weren't fighting."
	The older woman snorted, disdainfully. She looked back over her shoulder at
the other kids, making sure she had an audience that would appreciate her
wit.
	"Oh, my mistake. Rolling on the ground with your hands at each other's
throats, that just looked like fighting to me. So what do you call it, kid?"
	Becka started to answer, but before she could Gia reached out, standing on
tip toes, and placing her hand behind Becka's neck. Again using that
surprising strength of hers, she pulled the larger girl down into a hard,
wet, and passionate kiss. It was the same scene as they had acted out in
their living room less than a week ago, when they had come out as lesbians
to their family, only now with the positions reversed. If Becka was
surprised she hid it well, and returned that kiss with interest.
	Without a word the two lovers broke apart and started down the aisle, past
the driver who could only look at them in stunned silence. Even as the bus
load of highschoolers burst out into more catcalls and whistles, Becka
grinned over her shoulder and answered her question.
	"Foreplay."

				* * *

	They were still the center of everyone's attention for the rest of the
trip, but it was of a quieter kind. The driver had managed to shout down the
clamor from the other kids before she had restarted the bus and continued
on, but the inside of the vehicle was still thick with the sound of
whispered conversations and muffled laughter.
	The two girls sat in the back of the bus, but they weren't trying to hide.
Far from it, Gia was openly holding Becka's hand, and glaring defiantly at
anyone who stared at them for too long. She also insisted on sitting on the
aisle seat, an obstacle between her lover and everybody else in the vehicle.
Becka couldn't help but grin. Gia was being protective! God, that was so
cool.
	When the bus finally pulled into the school parking lot, the girls waited
in the back until the vehicle was almost empty, before they got up
themselves and filed down the aisle. The driver was giving them a carefully
blank stare, but after Gia had passed, Becka stopped and looked down at her.
After a few more moments of silence, the older woman finally snorted, and
then gave Becka a wry grin. Becka grinned back, and then quickly bounded
down the stairs and out the door.

	As she shut the door behind them, the bus driver watched the two defiant
young lovers until they disappeared into the morning throng of students. She
smiled, reminiscing, about a time long ago and another girl she had known.
Wondering what life would have been like, if she had only been that strong
at that age.

				* * *

	Gia and Becka made their way into the locker room, where they found a sink
in a secluded corner. Gia produced a brush and some makeup from the insides
of her purse, and the two young girls quickly went about repairing their
damaged appearance.
	When Gia finished with the hairbrush she handed it to Becka, who
immediately started to rake it through the tangled mess on top of her head.
While she was doing that, she kept a surreptitious eye on her lover, who was
busy reapplying her makeup. Finally, she asked the question that had been
haunting her since the argument at the bus stop.
	"Gia...what did you mean? When you said that you were sorry, what did you
mean?"
	Gia sighed, as she lowered the lipstick and then capped it and put it away.
She stared down at her hands for a while, as if trying to find an answer
there, but couldn't. She finally looked up at the bigger girl, and Becka was
sure that what she saw in Gia's eyes was shame.
	"Your nightmare, Becka. It was my fault, it was all my fault. I kicked you
out of my bed, turned my back on you, and made you sleep alone. I did it
because I was mad at you, and you hadn't done a thing to deserve that.
	"Becka...I was mad at Justine and Kelly yesterday, because they wouldn't
accept what I am, that I'm gay. But I was also mad because they had accepted
you. So I took it out on you and that was stupid, and petty, and I knew that
it was when I did it, but I just couldn't seem to help myself. And then you
had that nightmare, and from the way you screamed it must have been really,
really bad. And it was all my fault. Becka, I am so sorry."
	Becka looked down at the girl before her, saw the pain on that beloved
face, and felt it tear at her heart. She wanted to comfort Gia, to hold her
tight and tell her it wasn't true, that she wasn't responsible for what
Becka had experienced last night. To take away some of that anguish from her
eyes. But she couldn't. She and Gia had never lied to each other, no matter
what they had faced. Their whole relationship was built on that honesty, and
Becka wasn't about to be the first one to break.
	"You're right," she said, looking the other girl straight in the eye,
willing her to see the truth behind the words. "It was your fault, that I
had that nightmare. This time. But I've had it before, and I'll probably
have it again, and that won't be your fault at all.
	"Gia, do you remember our first weekend together, and that Saturday morning
when you mowed the lawn? Do you remember what I said?"
	Gia nodded, and smiled. "Yeah, I do. That's the first time you said that
you loved me."
	Becka smiled back, also remembering. "Yeah, and you said you loved me, too.
But I mean before that. After I spent an hour pretending that punching bag
was Ralph's face. I was so burned out I couldn't move, and you held me and
rubbed my shoulders until I stopped shaking. Do you remember what I said?"

	Gia thought back, remembering every detail of that moment, felt again the
big girl's overheated body leaning back into her arms. For a while she could
smell the sour odor of Becka's sweat soaked clothes, mixed with the fresh
cut grass scent on her own. She nodded, as she finally recalled the other
girl's words.
	"Yeah, I remember. You said that you were pretty fucked up."
	"Yeah, and I also said that I needed a shrink, didn't I? Well, I guess I
still do. I think Ralph left more on me than just his stink."

	Becka looked away, not wanting to see Gia's face when she told her what was
going to happen.
	"Gia, I think there's going to be more nights like that. More nightmares.
Maybe a lot more. Are you sure you can handle it?"
	There was a long moment of silence, and then Becka felt a touch on her
shoulder, and a strong hand that turned her around to face the other girl.
Without saying a word Gia pulled her into an embrace, hugging her fiercely,
making a promise out of the move. Becka let her own arms wrap around the
other girl just as tightly, trying to pull her inside to fill up all the
many little holes inside of her battered soul. Gia buried her face in
Becka's shoulder, and murmured her reply into her ear.
	"That's the last sucker punch you get, little girl. Next time I'll
be ready for ya."
(continued)