Date: Tue, 9 Jun 2009 01:39:14 -0400 From: Rochelle McPherson Subject: Rain chapter 1 Warning: This story contains may contain (I haven't decided yet) sexual relationships between women. If it is illegal in your country to be subjected to this kind of material or sexual relationships between women offend you leave now. This story is property of the author permission from the author must be given for reproduction of this story. Big Thanks to my new editor Steph, the ultimate spell check. "Rain, have you ever thought about.girls?" Her voice pulled me out of my murky trance. Her words don't mean much to me. Five seconds.ten seconds. sixty seconds go by until she speaks again. " Rain, where you be?" `Here now thanks to you.' For some reason I believe she's telepathic and for some reason I can't seem to keep from floating. Before I know it, I evaporate. I can literally feel the molecules in my body turn into miniscule bubbles. "Rain?" Less of me remains in this lawn chair with each passing breeze. "For Heaven sakes Rain open your eyes I'm trying to talk to you." I pop. Silently, and land back in the lawn chair. "They are open." I murmur as I shade my eyes. The summer brightness nearly blinds me. "Now they are, look I'm trying to talk to and I would appreciate if you remained in the real world-" "Okay okay, just let me get used to all the backyard colours." She sighs and hands me the sunglasses she was using to hold her flaming hair out of her face. "I'll just say it now before I lose you again.." "Wise choice amigo." Instinctively, I know she's rolling her eyes. Dylan inhaled deeply. "Haveyoueverthoughtaboutgirls." The words are a jumbled mess. After five slow sentence analyzing minutes I recognized her muddled oration as: Have you ever thought about girls? I turn to her, because Dyl values eye contact and for some reason this conversation now seems important. "Yes." "Really?" I take of the sunglasses and watched her features relax drastically. "Yes it's a fairly normal thing." I said reassuringly. "It's inevasible to not think about girls." She arches an eye brow. Today her hair is comparable to cherry kool- aid. "Inver-huh?" "Inevasible, think unavoidable. It's not really a big deal, even when you think about your mom your thinking about girls." It was fascinating watching her face adapt a shade similar to the colour of her hair. "No rain, I meant.sexually." "Sexually? O that's different. No sorry I've never thought about girls sexually. Ever" She deflated. "Are you hungry? I'm kinda hungry. I'm thinking. Mcflurries maybe." "I think I'm gay." I almost didn't hear her whisper but I did and I'm not surprised, not really. "That's cool." "That's it.that's." she was on the verge of panicking but then she smiled, because she finally realized that were cool and nothing will change that. "Same `ol Dyl. Now, let's go get some McFlurry's." ************************************************************ ************ "There's no fucking way you're handing this in." Dyl tossed my story like a frisbee and it landed on my stomach. She was pacing, something she does when she's freaked out. "How bad is it?" I pulled myself up and sat yoga style in the centre of my bed." "Story's alright," She said in a tone that that totally means it's good, " but," she paused for dramatic effect, "the content is so inappropriate." "Well.not really." I thought she was referring to the stoned state the narrator, a.k.a me, is in. "Hello, you wrote about me! Coming out!" She threw her hands in the air clearly exasperated. So that's her deal, I should have known. "And my hair colour does not look like Kool Aid, it's strawberry blonde." I snorted. Dylan's hair is fiery red period. It's a colour many people attempt but can never imitate she should be proud of that but unfortunately she's insecure about her red hair and ivory skin. "Look the assignment is to write about a real or fictional gay/lesbian/transgendered/bisexual experience. I think writing about my lesbian best friend coming out is very appropriate." "But my name is in it" She shrieked. "I'll take it out. You know that's just the rough copy." "Why don't you write about your own lesbian experience, huh?" "Weren't we just talking about appropriate content? And besides your experiences are always more interesting." I unfold myself and lie back down on the bed. "I beg to differ." I close my eyes. I hate how we always kind of gravitate towards that subject, It was such a long time ago, two years I think, but she still tries to bring it up. I know she had her doubts when I told her, I mean prior to that I never had any interest in girls or guys, so I guess it's kind of shocking. "Jeez what happened to the standard, `how was your summer vacation' essay? Mr. Biffus just has to be different." Dyl read my mood and changed the subject, proving once again just how well she understands me. "I guess it's his way of weaning out the homophobes." "The whole school's gay." Dylan threw herself on my bed. Her knees were hanging over the edge of my bed and from the ceiling we formed an upside down T. "Hey, are you prepared to face the repercussion of making yourself look like a stoner." "Who says that's me.' "That's so you, remember that summer it was awesome." She sighed fully lost in nostalgia. "That was like what two years ago?" "Three." "O yea, that was before." She wanted to say more but she stopped and for a while the room was painfully silent. I tried not to think about the summer I had three years ago. I pushed all those happy memories back down inside me. I have this theory, happy times lead to bad times, happy memories lead to devastating ones. Trust me it's proven. "I'm an idiot. Shit. Sorry." "It's okay." I lied. Sometimes she forgets so easily, but I don't blame her. It's my tragedy not hers. "Let's go, Joan is waiting." I got up off the bed. "Oh man, what do you think she has to tell us?" Dylan's voice was suddenly animated. "Who knows." I shrugged, leading the way through my room and into the hallway. "How can you be so calm all the time? This could be big." I was already at the front door with my shoes on waiting for Dyl. She took a detour into the kitchen but I could still hear her. The walls in my apartment are paper thin, no need to yell. "Whatever, you exaggerate too much. Meet me there the key is on the kitchen table." "I'm just saying how often do you have Sunday dinner on a Tuesday, think about it." I closed the door and walked across the hall to my aunt's apartment. Thanks for reading my story everyone if you would like automatic updates when I write a new chapter join my new yahoo group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/eatuspleatus_stories/ and this story is also available on gay authors: http://www.gayauthors.org/efiction/viewstory.php?sid=452 Once again thanks for reading guys and thanks Steph.