An Unexpected Friendship
I started writing this story in July 2020, when the outcome of the election was uncertain. (Yes, I am a slow writer. I need to work two jobs to make ends meet, so I can only work on my stories sporadically). And so, I had to change it so that is that it is now set during the 2017-2018 school year (pre-COVID-19).
Warning: This story deals with underage drinking, racism, xenophobia and homophobia. Also, fundamentalist evangelical Christians (if you are one, what are you doing on this site?) and fans of Donald Trump may be triggered.
Standard disclaimer: All sexual activity described in this story is between consenting adults 18 and older.
PROLOGUE
There's nothing special about me. I may be the most average person I know. I'm 5'4", which is the average height for a human female. With diet and exercise, I struggle to maintain a healthy weight, but I still have a bit of a potbelly and a big, flabby butt. My breasts are somewhere between a large B and small C—again, average for someone my age. Like the average person, I'm near-sighted and need glasses. And my glasses have large, square clear plastic frames, which is the most common women's frame these days. On my 16th birthday, my Mom handed down her 2010 Toyota Camry to me. It was the bestselling car in America when it was new, so again an average car. Even my name is average: Maria Garcia, the most common name in the American Southwest, which is where I live.
There are a couple of things about me that aren't average. As you may have guessed by my name, I am Latina. But even then, that's normal where I live. My state is predicted to be majority-Latinx within 10 years. Like many Latinxs born north of the border, I don't speak Spanish. In fact, for my mandatory foreign language class, I chose German rather than Spanish because I thought (wrongly as it turns out) that it would be easier to learn, since it's closer to English than Spanish is.
The other thing about me that isn't average is that I'm a lesbian. I've never told anyone, though, but a few people have guessed. I only wear jewelry, makeup or dresses on special occasions. Not because I consider myself butch (although maybe soft butch would be an appropriate description of my style), but because I'm usually not trying to impress anyone. Plus, my hair naturally grows out in a billion different directions, and the only way I can control it is to keep it cut short and put a bunch of gel in it, so it looks like a cross between Kristen Stewart's and Halsey's (but I'm nowhere near as glamorous as either of them). When people ask me directly if I'm gay, I say something non-committal. But it's not like I'm afraid to come out. My mom is a lawyer for a non-profit that helps poor people with their legal affairs, with its focus on women, racial minorities, immigrants and the LGBT+ community. And my aunt Angela is married to a woman. It's just that I've never seen the need to come out because I've never had serious feelings for anyone. I'm sure if I found a girl to date, I'd come out and my parents would be okay with it.
No, there's nothing special about me. Which is why it shocked everyone—including me—when the most popular girl in school decided she wanted to be my best friend. And it shocked everyone—including me—even more when she revealed why she made that decision.
CHAPTER 1
The summer before I started my senior year, my parents divorced. It was amicable and my mom even kept my dad's last name, but they just couldn't live together anymore. Unfortunately, it took two full-time incomes to pay for the house we had in the city, so Dad moved into an apartment, and Mom and I moved to a cheaper house in the suburbs. Of course, this meant a new school where I didn't know anybody. Since my art and PE electives were both playing clarinet in the marching band, I started band practice a few weeks before the start of classes and made a few friends like me: quiet, shy, sensitive and generally un-cool.
Then, on the morning of the first day of school about a half hour before the start of class, I was shown to the principal's office where the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on was waiting for me. She looked to be around 5'8", with platinum blond hair in soft waves down to the nape of her neck. She was wearing a dark blue floral print off-the-shoulder summer dress that showed off her amazing calves and exposed just a hint of cleavage in her breasts, which were somewhere between a large C and a small D. And with her deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, button nose and bright smile, she looked like a living Barbie doll.
The principal came out and made introductions: "Ms. Garcia, this is Christina Wright. She'll be showing you around the campus this morning before school starts. Ms. Wright, this is Maria Garcia. She's a senior this year and you have a few classes with her, so get used to seeing lots of each other."
"H . . . h . . . hi, Christina." I'm naturally shy, so I was already uncomfortable meeting this new person. The fact that I was a closeted lesbian and she looked like a goddess only added to my anxiety.
She took my hand, gave a charming laugh and said, "Please. Call me Christi. Only my mom calls me Christina. Do you prefer Maria or Mary?"
"Maria. Thank you."
"Okay, let me show you around campus."
I already knew where the band hall was because of summer practice, but she showed me how to find my locker and the various classrooms. As it turned out, Christi's locker was right next to mine.
Due to the large student population, the campus was divided into three good-sized two-story buildings. Math and science classes were in one building, history and civics classes were in another, and English and foreign language classes were in the main building along with the gym, theater, and various music practice halls.
"Oh! I see we both have Ms. Lehrer for AP English in first period. Do you want to sit next to me? I'd really like that."
"Okay." That's about all I was comfortable saying to her at the time.
After first period, Christi escorted me to my calculus class. "We don't have any more morning classes together, but we do have AP history together for fifth period, so why don't we meet up for lunch and go to class together from there?"
"Sounds good. I'll look for you."
"Hey, can I have your phone? I want us to be able to text each other in case something comes up."
We exchanged numbers and then as Christi was walking away, she looked over her shoulder, smiled at me and gave a little wave with her fingers.
Calvin—one of my friends from marching band—looked at us in awe. "Was that Christi Wright you were talking to?"
"Um . . . yeah. Why?"
"Dude! She's like the most popular girl in school! I can't believe she wants to hang out with you. Not, that . . . you know . . . I mean you're cool, too, but . . ."
"Relax. I know what you mean. We've just met. She probably won't want anything to do with me once she learns what a total geek I am."
During the next few classes, I got to know more about Christi from my classmates' chatter: She was captain of the drill team, class president, in the running for valedictorian, and dating the starting quarterback of the football team. Her dad was head pastor at the town's largest church. And her mom was mayor of the town, although probably not for long as she was the frontrunner in the Republican primary this spring to represent our safe red district in Congress. She had campaign signs all over the town with the slogan "Karen Wright: Standing With Trump To Make America Great Again."
By the time the bell rang for fourth period, I was sure Christi would ditch me and I would have to eat by myself. To my surprise, she was standing outside the door when I walked out and greeted me with an enthusiastic smile and wave.
"Maria! Come over here! There's this place across the street that serves way better food than the cafeteria. My treat!"
"Um . . . I'm sorry. People talk around here, and now I know where you stand in the social hierarchy of this school. You're the queen bee and I'm several rungs below you. I'm just some average girl who's in the marching band and a bit of a nerd. If we eat lunch together, it might hurt your reputation."
"Oh, Maria! Don't be like that! I promise, all I want to do is introduce you to some of my friends on the drill team. I swear they're really nice. And I know the next thing you're thinking: No, I'm not setting you up to make fun of you. There's no bucket of pig's blood in your immediate future."
"Oh my God! You're into Stephen King too? I know he's not the most serious writer, but I love him!"
"Yeah. I'm a horror nut. I especially like those low-budget slasher movies from the 1970's like the original 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre' and 'The Hills Have Eyes.'"
We walked over to a nice clean diner, where we sat in a booth with four other girls who were almost as good-looking as Christi was. I sat next to Christi as she was the only person there that I knew. As promised, the food was good. Normally, I try to watch what I eat, but today I followed Christi's lead and had a cheeseburger and fries with a chocolate milkshake. And, as promised, the girls were nice to me. Well, three of them were anyway. One of them—I later learned her name was Charlotte—kept giving me the stink-eye.
Throughout the lunch, the others were talking about the usual girly stuff: parties, boys, celebrity gossip. I hadn't been to a party since my own quinceañera, and boys and gossip didn't interest me. And so, I stayed silent. Finally, when I was about halfway done with my burger, Charlotte spoke up and said, "So Christi, I know you like to be nice to everyone and all, but why did you bring this loser to lunch with us?"
"Because I really like her."
"Really? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like she's just some ugly dyke who's crushing on you. Isn't that right, Ugly Dyke? Do you have a crush on Christi? What do you have to say for yourself, Ugly Dyke?"
Before I could respond, Christi spoke up. "Stop it! It's not true, and I won't stand for you calling her that! Remember that I'm the captain of the squad this year and I can get you kicked off, so watch yourself!"
Charlotte went beet-red with embarrassment, and Christi gave me a big hug and whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry she said those things to you. You're beautiful and I already like you a lot, even though we only met this morning."
On the one hand, this cemented the friendship between me and Christi. We sat next to each other in every class we had together and had lunch together every day, sometimes with the squad, sometimes with her boyfriend Brian, and sometimes just the two of us. And no matter what anyone said or thought about me or our friendship, I knew she had my back. On the other hand, the things Charlotte said were true. I really was gay and average looking at best, and I really was developing an attraction to Christi. And with Christi's emphatic denial of those things in my defense, it meant I could never really be honest with her about my feelings.
CHAPTER 2
We were on the way home from our first away game of the season. While most of the band were riding in their own buses, I was one of the ones picked to share a bus with the drill team. The faculty wanted the drill team in the front and the band in the back, but Christi insisted she wanted to sit next to me. She not only had clout with the students, but with the teachers as well, so they granted her request. I was a little self-conscious about this arrangement myself. Since the game was over, I had taken off my band uniform top and was just in a plain white t-shirt with uniform slacks. She, on the other hand was wearing her drill uniform which was basically a sports bra, booty shorts and thigh-highs covered in sequins and fringe. Her toned arms, flat midriff and perfectly shaped thighs were all on display. In addition to the sexy clothes, she was wearing sparkly makeup that made her look like a fairy princess. Sitting next to that, it was hard for me to keep composed and not just drool all over her.
I was tired out and wanted to nap a bit, but Christi was excited, and it looked like she had something to tell me, so I pretended to be alert for her sake.
"Hey, guess what?!"
"Hm . . .?"
"Brian's parents are away tomorrow and he's throwing a party at his house. Please say you'll come."
"Brian? I don't think he likes me. When we've had lunch together, he keeps throwing me these shady looks."
"Maria, please come! I told him I wouldn't be there unless you were there too. I really want to spend time with you outside of school. Pretty please?"
She looked at me with puppy-dog eyes and I just couldn't say no.
*************************************
The next day, Christi picked me up in her brand-new lime-green Ford Mustang convertible that her parents had gotten her for her eighteenth birthday. We went shopping together and finally found a conservatively cut dress that I didn't feel weird wearing. Then we went back to my house where she and my mom conspired to give me a makeover. Together we decided that a pair of small diamond ear-studs and a simple gold chain around my neck were all the jewelry I needed. And my makeup was minimal as well: just a bit of mascara and some nude lip gloss was all I felt comfortable putting on my face.
It was amazing how well Christi and my mom got along. It turns out Christi was trying for pre-law and had a lot of questions. Her own mom was a prosecutor before she got into politics, but Christi's interests lay outside of criminal law, so she and my mom had lots to talk about. And when they weren't talking about law, they talked about me. They both agreed that I was too hard on myself and were both glad that I was making headway in being more sociable and making new friends.
Sometime in the afternoon my mom got a phone call from work.
"Sorry, mija. I have to go. Will you two be okay by yourselves?"
"No problem."
"Okay, bye!" She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she gave Christi a big hug and said, "It was nice to meet you. I'm so glad Maria has a friend like you."
We went back into my room, and Christi asked "I notice you have a digital piano. Can I play it?"
"No problem."
She flipped on the switch and started playing some chords. Then she started singing, and her clear soprano sounded like an angel. Was there nothing she couldn't do perfectly? The song she sang was "Secret Love" by Riley May. Riley had written it when she was our age about the girl who is now her wife [author's note: for the full story, read "Anna Louisiana"]. I swear, if I didn't know Christi was straight and had a boyfriend, I'd think she was trying to make me fall in love with her. Not that it would be hard.
Then she turned her head slightly to the left and saw my baby: an Epiphone Casino electric guitar with oversized single-coil pickups. It was light blond, and I had removed the pick guard to make it look just like John Lennon's guitar from The Beatles' rooftop concert (I don't care that they broke up before my parents were born and that the two surviving members are both older than my grandparents, I'm obsessed with The Beatles).
"Oh, wow, Maria! Do you play the guitar?"
"Yeah."
"Can you teach me?"
"Um. . ., okay I guess."
I went back to my closet, got my old acoustic guitar out of its case and gave it to her. I tried teaching her a few basic chords, but she was having trouble with the fingering. Seeing an opportunity, I went behind her, reached around, took her hands in mine and placed her fingers where they needed to be on the fretboard and showed her how to properly hold a pick. We were both wearing tank-tops, so there was lots of exciting flesh-to-flesh contact. I felt sort of guilty for taking advantage of her, but if she felt uncomfortable, she never showed it. If I didn't know she was straight and had a boyfriend, I might have been a bit bolder.
After about a half-hour of basic guitar lessons, we took a break and streamed "Re-Animator" on my laptop. At each jump-scare, she grabbed and held me, sometimes even burying her face into my neck. To be honest, that physical contact thrilled me much more than the movie did.
Eventually, we had to get ready for the party, so that meant Christi had to go home to change. But before she left, she gave me a long lingering hug and said, "I had fun today. Let's do this again."
And that became our Saturday routine for the rest of the school year. She would pick me up to go shopping. Then she and my mom would try to get me to wear girly clothes, jewelry and makeup (I would push back if I didn't feel comfortable wearing it). And sometimes the two of them would talk by themselves while I'd be in my room. I'd give Christi guitar lessons (where I would put my arms around her like before if she had problems with learning something). And if we had a major homework project for one of the classes we had together, we'd work on that. Then, we'd watch a horror movie and she'd go home for dinner.
************************************
But anyway, back to that first Saturday we spent together:
After dinner, I changed into the new dress I had bought earlier in the day, and my mom helped me re-apply my makeup. Although I admit that the dress and makeup made me look a little prettier and more feminine, I was still determined to not be comfortable wearing them. Christi texted me the address and I got there a little after 7:30.
Pretty much everyone was drinking, smoking, getting high and/or making out, and I felt a little like that song "Here" by Alessia Cara. (When that song was a hit during my sophomore year, she was my first serious celebrity crush). I wandered around for a few minutes and I figured if I couldn't find Christi, then I'd just leave. I was just about to head out to the backyard when I heard her call my name.
"Maria! I'm so glad you made it!"
She ran up to me and gave me a hug so tight that I almost couldn't breathe. She was really decked out tonight, wearing a low-cut pink crop top with spaghetti straps that showed off her boobs nicely, along with daisy duke cutoffs. This was the most revealing outfit I had ever seen her wear, and to say I was aroused would be putting it mildly.
I was still uncomfortable around all these people, and I guess I didn't hide it very well, because Christi handed me a beer and said, "You look like you could use this."
She was right. I'm not a big drinker, but I needed it to calm me down a bit. And because I'm not a big drinker, I was feeling a pleasant buzz before I was even through with the bottle. Christi ran off and started making out with Brian. He was 6'2", kept his dark brown hair in a buzz cut, had a square jaw with a dimpled chin, broad shoulders and a seriously muscled physique. Together he and Christi looked like the perfect couple. And I'd known they were together since the day I first met Christi. So why was I feeling kind of jealous?
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