Date: Fri, 03 Oct 2003 22:37:21 -0700 From: RC in Sacramento Subject: Becka the Beast, Chapter 4 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 4*** The next day Gia waited for Becka out in front of school, carrying the bag with Becka's treasures from the night before. They hurried into the girl's room, where Becka quickly changed into her new clothes. She posed before Gia awkwardly, who frowned for a moment in thought, and then reached into her purse and pulled out her hairbrush and makeup. By pure force of will she got Becka to hold still while she fixed her hair and applied blush and lipstick. When she was finished, Becka asked her nervously, "How do I look?" Gia grinned, "Delicious, little girl. But I should never have put that lipstick on you. Now I can't kiss you as hard as I want." Becka grinned, moving in to take hold of the other girl. "So just how hard can you kiss me?" Gia tried to show her, but the kiss was interrupted before it could happen by a group of chattering girls coming into the bathroom. Becka hastily pulled away, and the two girls picked up their things and left for their individual classes. But as they were going out the door, Gia poked her in the ribs and whispered, teasingly, "You pulled away first." Becka grinned all the way to English Lit. * * * It was a surprising day for Becka, a day of firsts that left her feeling more than a little off balance. She still felt the weight of eyes on her wherever she went, but it definitely wasn't the same. There was no sense of fear or hostility, or as if she was a freak on display. The new clothes and the makeup, and the fact that she wasn't glaring at everybody who looked in her direction, made her seem like an entirely different person. In fact, she got the distinct impression that nobody who saw her had any idea of who she was. And all the looks that passed her way seemed to be approving. 'Oh my God, some of those boys are actually checking me out!' By the time lunch rolled around, Becka felt like a thrumming base string, she was so excited she couldn't wait to see Gia and the other girls. A sudden bout of nerves stopped her at the door to the cafeteria, and when she finally made it through the other four girls were already sitting at their usual table. Gia saw her first, but other than a smile she didn't do anything to acknowledge her. The others only looked puzzled when Becka pulled up a chair and sat down. "Hi." Jaws dropped, as the other three girls recognized Becka. Suddenly they were on their feet, surrounding her, touching her hair and her clothes and exclaiming in wonder about them. It was more than a little overwhelming, but Gia grinned at her, and soon she was grinning back, totally enjoying the attention. Pretty soon though they settled back into their seats, and began to question Becka about her transformation. "God, Becka, don't take this the wrong way, but I never realized before that you're so pretty! How come you've never worn a dress to school before?" "Hell, Kelly, I've never worn a dress before anywhere, this is my first one. I'm still getting used to the draft." The other blonde girl blinked, not sure she had heard right. "Did you just say you've never worn a dress before? Do you mean, like, ever?" "Well, no. I mean I don't have any dresses, and it's been about five years since I last wore one." "Five years? Wow! What did you wear it too?" To bury my mother. "Umm, I had to go to a funeral. It was a long black one, with lots of lace." "Oh, wow. I mean, like, five years. Why did you stop wearing dresses?" Her old man after the funeral, grinning at her, telling her how cute she looked. Ripping the black dress off of her, throwing her down, taking her for the first time, there on the living room floor. She screamed, but this time Mommy never came. "Umm, my old man. He, uh, he doesn't like them. Uh, hey, do you want to see what Gia got me?" Nobody else seemed to notice the nervous change of subject, but Gia did. She kept quiet though, and even insisted that Becka bring out her old notepad to explain the purchase of the sketch pad. Becka handed it over shyly, and soon the three girls were huddling over her notebook, exclaiming at her talent and subject matter. On impulse, Becka took out her present from Gia and selected a black conte' crayon, and started to sketch the three girls. She worked rapidly, and by the time they were finished with her old sketches, she had a new one almost finished for them to see. "Ohmygod, I cannot believe this, that looks just like me! Becka, this is amazing!" "Yeah, that is so cool! Hey, I read this story once, about a girl in high school who could draw like you, and she used it to make a whole lot of money. Girls would like hire her to draw a picture of them with their favorite famous guy. You know, like walking with Justin Timberlake, or singing with Travis Barker, or like dancing with Tom Cruise. What, he is so not too old!" The laughter and the approval and the physical act of drawing had their effect, to drive out the ghosts of her father and her past. It was a good time, hi lighted by the look of pride in Gia's eyes. In fact the five girls were having so much fun that they almost missed eating their lunch and had to wolf it down as they hurriedly made their way to their next classes. In the hallway, Gia stopped Becka and pulled her aside. "I've got something to tell you, but we don't have time right now. I'll see you after school, okay?" With that she shoved something into Becka's hand, and disappeared into the crowd. Becka looked down in her hand and grinned. A Ziploc bag with two chocolate chip cookies. * * * After school they met down in the girl's locker room, so that Becka could change before going home. Gia smiled, but refrained from making any 'scene of the crime' comments. While Becka was changing, Gia told her about that weekend. Becka was stunned by the enormity of the idea. "You mean ... we'll be alone. Just you and me. For the whole weekend?" Gia grinned, she couldn't help it. Becka looked so cute, standing there with that look of astonishment all over her face. That, and she was only half dressed, wearing nothing more than a bra and panties. Gia pulled her into her arms and held her close. "That's right, little girl, two days and two nights. Just you. And me. And a big, soft, bed." Gia punctuated the last sentence with kisses, her hands running up and down Becka's naked back, and over her cotton clad bottom. When the little kisses became one big one she squeezed Becka's ass cheeks, pulling the bigger girl in tight, grinding her hips against her panties. Becka groaned, her desire for Gia, her beautiful lover Gia, making her want to make love with her more than anything she had ever wanted before. The cheerleaders chose that moment to come in for practice. The two girls broke apart quickly, with Becka turning away and pushing into her open locker, so that the other girls wouldn't see the frustrated lust on her face. She dressed quickly, carefully hanging her new clothes inside. By the time she and Gia walked out the locker room door, she felt like she had finally regained the ability to breath. "We have got to stop making out in places that have plumbing," she muttered. Two cheerleaders glanced up, wondering what Gia was laughing so loud about. * * * They made they're way to Becka's house, chattering excitedly all the time about the coming weekend. Gia told her all about her new home, extolling the virtues of the swimming pool, Jacuzzi, and the fenced in quarter acre of backyard with it's three huge oak trees. Becka only half believed her, not because she doubted Gia's word, but because such luxury was so foreign to her that she had nothing to compare it too. She finally asked Gia how they could afford such a grand place to live. "I didn't think there was that much money in teaching people how to fight." "There isn't. But there is that much in auto mechanics and custom detailing. My Dad started out as a detailer, worked hard and is now part owner of two garages and a detail shop. By the time I came along he was able to turn the auto places over to his partners to run, and start his first school downtown. Karate and Aikido were always his hobby, and now he can afford to do what he likes best. Hey, here's you're house." "Okay, you better wait here while I check it out." While Gia waited nervously across the street, Becka slipped into her neighbor's yard and peered through the overgrown hedge at her own home. She sighed when she saw that her old man's truck was still gone. With a quick wave she summoned Gia over, and then led her around the back to the detached garage. Becka produced a key and unlocked the door, then raised it open on squeaking hinges. The garage contained a dusty and dirty clutter of objects, from old power tools to a tarp covered motorcycle. In one corner was an old lawn mower draped in cobwebs which, judging from the lawn, hadn't been used in at least three or four years. And at the front was a shiny metal shopping cart from a nearby grocery store. Becka pulled out the cart and then closed and locked the garage, pocketing the key somewhere in her baggy cargo pants. She wheeled the cart down the driveway and up the street. Gia followed, her eyes asking a silent question. Becka explained. "My old man went out of town, but he left me some money and a grocery list. I've gotta do the shopping before he gets back, and since I don't know when that will be, I've gotta do it now just to be sure. They know me at the store, so they let me take this cart home, just so long as I bring it back and don't take another one." Gia just nodded, but otherwise didn't answer. She was too caught up in the thought of a parent who would leave their child alone for days at a time, and the daughter who seemed to think there was nothing unusual about that. But then, neglect would be the least of his crimes, if what Gia suspected were true. At the store, Becka surprised her again by pulling out a roll of discount coupons from one of her voluminous pockets. Becka took off the rubber band that held the coupons together and slipped it over her wrist for safe keeping, and then carefully began matching the coupons to the items on her father's shopping list. With a stub of pencil she marked down amounts on the margin of the list, tallied them up, and then grinned at Gia. "Great, we've got about fourteen dollars extra. I can stock up." And with that she took off down the aisle, leaving a bemused Gia to catch up. Later, as they pulled items from the shelves to match those on Becka's list, the older girl explained her earlier remark. "See, my old man eats out a lot, or else he brings home a bag of tacos or something, so we usually don't have much around the place to eat. Except maybe some chips or stuff. But my old man doesn't know how much things cost, so sometimes he gives me too much money like today. With that and with the coupons, I can get a lot of good stuff for me." "Like what, Becka?" "Well, like this. Like soup." Becka had stopped at the Campbell's Soup display, and was busily rooting around in the back of the shelves, like a French pig searching for truffles. "I eat a lot of soup, 'cause my old man doesn't like it, and he leaves it alone. They give you a discount if you buy a dented can. Alright, Chicken Noodle-Os!" Becka pulled a badly dented can from the back and placed it in her cart, then went back to her search. She eventually collected four more cans, and then moved on, checking out the other shelves for more damaged goods. The haphazard method ended up filling the basket with a truly exotic mix of dented canned foods. They included one can of green beans ("gotta get my vitamins"), some lemon pie filling, two cans of chili, two cans of stewed tomatoes ("if you mix them with the chili it tastes good"), and some frozen orange juice ("if there's no Vodka in the house, he won't touch it"). There was also a bag of pasta noodles and a bag of dried beans, which Becka said were easy to cook and would fill her up. From her scribbled notes on the margins of the shopping list, Becka confidently told Gia that she'd have a whopping three cents left over. Gia shook her head in wonder. How could Becka, how could anyone, possibly live like this? Becka had acted in awe of Gia's shopping expertise last night, but it was nothing compared to the lesson she had just gotten from the other girl. Last night had been for fun, but today had been a matter of survival. As they made their way to the checkout stand, Gia asked what food item was Becka's favorite. "Eggs. I like eggs. But they're too expensive." Without a word Gia turned around and ran to the back of the store. She came back a minute later with an eighteen count carton of double A grade large eggs. She placed them in the cart and said, "My treat." Becka grinned broadly, then bit her lip and dropped her head. If she only knew what the sight did for Gia's heart, she would have known that she had been paid back in full. At the check out counter she had Gia go ahead and pay for the eggs separately. After she had paid, Becka had three cents due in change. * * * On the way home the two girls took turns riding on the front of the cart, making a game of hitting every crack and pothole to try and through the one in front off. Gia was mostly quite, thinking about the things she was learning about the other girl. If Becka noticed her silence, she didn't seem to mind. She was more than willing to fill it with her own chatter. It had been a long time since she had had anybody to really talk to, and now the dry spell was being ended by the breaking of the dam. Gia learned that Becka's grocery trips for her father weren't her only source of food or the money to buy it with. In fact, she seemed to have her finger in quite a lot of pies. A couple of times a week she helped out at the local bakery, sweeping up and stocking shelves for the owner, Mrs. Funicello. She paid her in day old baked goods, and sometimes even a box of fresh donuts. Mrs. Hughes, an old lady who lived down the street, paid her five dollars a day to feed her cats when she made one of her frequent trips to the hospital. And Miss Willoughby, a fifth grade teacher who had once taught Becka's history class, paid her ten dollars a week to mow her lawn and trim her hedges. The list went on. Gia soon noticed a pattern with Becka's list of employers. They were all women, every one of them. The odds of that were too high to be coincidence. It was a bit more proof that Becka was terrified of men. "Sometimes, though," continued Becka, "When my old man or one of his friends are passed out, I can go through their wallets and get some real money. I once got a whole fifty dollars like that! But I gotta be careful not to take too much, 'cause if he ever found out, he'd really rip me a new one." "Becka, it sounds like you're making enough to get by on. Why would you take that kind of a chance, when you don't absolutely need to?" In a moment all the play seemed to vanish from Becka's face, to be replaced by a look of grim determination. Her gaze seemed to be fixed on a far and distant goal. "Because I do need to, Gia. I need to save up. I've got over four hundred dollars saved up, but I'm gonna need as much as I can get. The day I turn eighteen, I'm out that door and I'm never coming back. I'll get my own place, and I'll get a job, go to art school, too, I'm gonna learn how to really draw, and I'm gonna be a famous artist someday, and I'll - oh, shit!" Becka turned white, cutting off her flow of dreams in mid sentence, staring at something past Gia's head. Gia, who had been riding on the front of the cart, looked over her shoulder to see what had so disturbed her friend. They had just come within site of Becka's house. In the driveway was parked a battered old Ford pickup truck, covered with dust and badly in need of a new paint job. "My old man's home," Becka said, her voice gone small. (continued)