CHAPTER THREE
AMBER

OCTOBER 2003

As October started, I was more than frustrated.

At least I had one outlet--Rosa. And that almost sounds like I was using her. Well, maybe I was, to some degree. But it wasn’t like I didn’t have feelings for her--I did. There wasn’t another girl I’d want as a lover. There were, however, any number of guys I’d love to have as a lover. It’s not that I was actively looking for a relationship with a guy, though I wasn’t opposed to it, either. But, actually, Rosa was really all I needed right now emotionally. That would probably change some day, when I met the right guy. Right now, all I wanted from a guy was to get laid.

That wasn’t happening. So, I was with Rosa. And it’s not like there was anything wrong with sex with Rosa. On the contrary--it was great.

We were compatible in bed, probably because I was more aggressive than she was. Rosa was soft. She wasn’t fat, not at all, but she was curvy. Except for my T and A, which I had, I was all angles and muscles--Rosa was soft all over. Even her kisses were soft.

We were together this day, early in October. We were in my bed, all curled up together, kissing. We were naked--we’d taken the bus home that way as we usually did if it was nice out. We had been nude all day--what was the point of dressing?

Anyhow, we were kissing. And, like I said, Rosa’s kisses were soft. Even when she was sucking on my lower lip--something she loved to do--it was soft and gentle.

Our lips quietly rubbed against one another. She parted her lips, and my tongue slipped inside. She sucked on my tongue lightly, running her own all over mine.

We were in a clench. One of her hands was running through my hair, the other lightly roaming up and down my back. I had my hands cupped around her ass, squeezing her cheeks. Our boobs were rubbing against each other.

I parted her legs with my kness and brough my thigh up between her legs. I bent it up and rubbed it against her pussy. She moaned into my mouth.

We were side-by-side, but I pushed her over so that she was on her back. I climbed on top of her. We rubbed our boobs and pussies together, as our tongues and lips dueled. Her hands held my head, fondling my hair.

I broke the kiss, and moved my lips downward, kissing her neck on the way down. I got down to her boobs and kissed all around her flesh. I circled around, kissing her boobs all over, then finally got to her erect nipple. I took it between my lips and sucked on it, rubbing the tip with my tongue as I did.

Rosa moaned as I massaged her nipple with my lips and tongue. I rolled it between my lips, flicking at it with my tongue. As I did that, my hand roamed down and moved between her legs. I cupped her pussy with my hand, feeling how wet she was, pressing into it gently. Then I moved a finger up and down her slick labia, caressing and fondling her pussy with my finger as I did the same to her nipple with my tongue. After a few minutes of that, I took my finger and slipped it into her.

“Oh, God, Amber,” she gasped. She was wet and ready, and I moved my finger in and out of her easily. As I added a second one, I kissed down her stomach and headed towards her pussy with my mouth.

All right. I guess I am pretty bi, because I love eating pussy. I especially enjoyed eating Rosa’s pussy. When she gets aroused, she has a nice prominent clittie--nice and easy to wrap my lips around. That’s just what I did, sucking on it and gently flicking my tongue at it--she loved that. It didn’t take long, not witih my lips sucking her clit and my fingers hammering away at her pussy. Her hips rose off the bed. She yelped, “Amber!” and I felt her pussy clamp down on my fingers.

I moved my mouth away but kept my fingers buried in her, as she came down. When her breathing settled, I began taking her up again. Slowly moving my fingers, I gently licked my way up her labia. Her arousal returned in a hurry and I zeroed back onto her clit. Her second orgasm was quicker and, if anything, even more explosive.

I crawled up beside her after the second one and just watched her. Rosa was awesome to look at after she came. Her eyes were clenched, her fists were clenched, her cheeks all puffed out as she tried to regain her breath. I loved it.

She opened her eyes to see me leaning over her, grinning. And then she surprised me--before I knew it, I was on my back with her hovering over me. Rosa wasn’t usually aggressive. She leaned over and her lips met mine--and she practically stuck her tongue down my throat!

Before I knew it, her mouth was on my breast. Then she moved down and lapped at my pussy. She lovingly sucked on my clit, as I felt myself start to build up. Then, suddenly, she wasn’t there anymore. I opened my eyes, and saw her in front of me, kneeling between my spread legs.

And she was wearing a strap-on! We’d played with toys before, but never a strap-on. “Where’d you get that?” I asked.

“A little surprise,” she said with a grin. “Amber, I want to fuck you.”

“God, yes,” I groaned. She moved in--and stuck me with one good, long stroke. I yelped--and it was in pleasure.

Like I said, we’d used toys--hell, I’d used them on myself. But that was different. That was a hand, hers or mine, moving it in and out. It wasn’t the same as Rosa’s hips driving it into me.

My Jesus, did she fuck me! I found out later, when she took it off, that it had a couple of attatchments--one that went into her pussy, and one that massaged her clit. So, she was getting something out of this as well. She certainly pounded it in and out of me like one very turned-on girl.

I wrapped my legs around her ass. She leaned over, holding herself up by her elbows. Her tits mashed into mine, which just added to the sensations. Then she covered my mouth with hers. I held on to her waist as she plowed that magnificent fake cock in and out of my sopping pussy.

When I came, it was with one hell of a howl.

And she kept going! I’d barely come down from my first orgasm, and her ceaseless pounding had me headed for number two. She just kept fucking into me--but I could see all those attatchments were affecting her, too. She was panting into my mouth through her kisses. Her erect nipples rubbed against mine.

I felt my pussy clamp down on the latex cock again, as my hips pulled up off the bed and thrust up at hers.

And she still kept going! After that, I lost all coherence. I know I got to a third before Rosa climaxed herself and collapsed on top of me, completely spent, the dildo still deep inside me. She pulled it out after a while and plopped down next to me. I looked over at it. It was slick with my juices. No big surprise--the puddle under my ass was practically a damn lake.

“Oh, my God,” I hissed after I had finally caught my breath.

“You like?” Rosa said with a grin.

“Jesus. I have never cum that hard! And you--when did you get so aggressive?”

“I dunno. It was like I strapped that thing on, and got this incredible surge of power!”

“What made you think of this?”

She blushed, and blinked. “Look, Amber--I know you want a guy. I know it’s going to happen sooner or later.” Her voice dropped. “I wanted to do it first. I wanted your first fuck to be from me.”

“Oh, Rosa,” I sighed, leaning over and taking her in my arms. We cuddled for a bit. “After that--honestly, who needs guys?” I giggled.

“You do. I know this. Hey, so do I,” she admitted.

“I had wondered.”

“I don’t seem to crave it as badly as you do, but I do want guys. I just don’t want us to lose what we have.”

“We won’t,” I promised. “Any guy I meet will have to understand that I’m bi and have a girlfriend. Of course, at Naked High, that probably won’t be a problem. I saw a foursome headed into one of the pods the other day.” Rosa giggled at that. “Which, I admit, sounds like fun. Anyway--at the moment, I have no legs left--but, next time, I want to do you with this thing.” I gripped the dildo. “If you were my first, I want to be yours.”

“I’d like that,” she grinned.

--------------

It’s not that I wanted a guy any less, but maybe it made it a bit less urgent. I vowed not to kill myself trying so hard. Rosa’s magical strap-on was a wonderful substitute. And, two days after that first time with it, I found out I really liked doing her with it. She loved it, too.

But I still looked at the guys, drooling. And I still got pangs of jealousy. Tanya and Connor Enfield were as thick as thieves. And then I had to listen to the exploits of my soccer buddy, Jordan.

Including hand-job lessons with my journal partner, Joe Benson!

She told me about it one day after practice. “Joe Benson?” I exclaimed. “I was under the impression that he was totally hopeless.”

“Nah,” Jordan told me. “He’s just shy, has no confidence, and is inexperienced. Which just means that I get to train him.” She grinned at me. “He’s very trainable!”

“You have a thing for him?”

“Nah, not that way,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, I like him a lot. But, at this point in my life, I am a play-the-field kind of gal.”

“What if he gets stuck on you?”

“That’s why I’ve waited a couple weeks and haven’t taken him in for another lesson,” she giggled. “Next one is oral. Every guy should learn that one.”

“Uh-huh,” I grinned. “That’s why I have Rosa.”

She made a face. “Suit yourself, but not for me. I’m sure I wouldn’t mind receiving oral sex from a girl--a girl certainly would know her way around down there.” She made a worse face and shuddered. “But then I’d have to reciprocate. No thanks. I’ll stick to blowjobs.” I had to laugh at that.

She continued. “Anyhow, as I was saying, I don’t worry about Joe getting stuck on me. Besides which, he’s got a thing for Darcy Iniglia.”

“Ugh. Somebody buy that boy some taste,” I said.

“Yup. Anyhow, we’re just friends. I’m just going to teach him.”

“I need some guy to teach. Or vice-versa!”

-----------

Well, it wasn’t going to happen then. The next day, I got my period. Ah, well. That was one bad thing about Naked High. Don’t get me wrong, I was glad I got to wear panties that week--but that meant everybody knew when Aunt Flo came for a visit. 

And we had a game. Playing soccer when on your period is never much fun. Anyway, I got a nice surprise.

We got drubbed, by Newburgh. We still hadn’t won a damn game. It was getting maddening.

Anyhow, I looked over at the bench shortly after halftime, and I saw a girl sitting there. She was on crutches, a cast on her leg. I looked closer--and realized it was my old friend Tiffany!

After the game, I couldn’t wait to talk to her. “What are you doing here? And what happened to your leg?”

She smiled at me, but it was forced. “I’m going to be going here, starting tomorrow.”

“You’re kidding,” I gasped. “How on earth did your Mother allow you to come here?”

Tiff dropped the smile. “She didn’t. I’m not living with her anymore. I’m living with my Dad in Southport.” She took a deep breath. “I had a guy. In my bedroom. We were just fooling around, we had barely gotten started. Now, I was going to let him fuck me, but we hadn’t gotten to that point. We had gotten naked.

“Mom came home unexpectedly. And she caught us. She chased Tommy out of the house. Then she pulled me out of bed by my hair--and threw me down the stairs. That’s how I broke my leg. Got a concussion, too. I’m lucky it wasn’t worse. I mean I was pushed and went head-over-heels down a full flight of stairs.”

“My God, Tiff!” I hissed.

“Not the first time she’s hit me, though it was never that bad before. Anyhow, after I landed, she finally came to her senses and called an ambulance. The police came with them, and I told them--my mother threw me down the stairs. I think she expected me to cover for her, or something. Anyhow, they took her in, and called my Dad. He got me at the hospital. We had a hearing yesterday and he got custody--my Mother might go to jail, anyway. She’s being charged with felony child abuse and aggravated battery--and they’re considering attempted murder. She’s out on bail, but I got a restraining order.

“I’d have to change schools anyway, and I wanted to go here in the first place, though Mom wouldn’t hear of it. Dad thinks it’s a good idea, though. They usually don’t accept transfers--but they let me in, because of the circumstances, and because I only missed a month.”

“Wow,” I said. “Well, I’m glad you’re here, though I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll tell you what, this team could really use you!”

“Not until next year, unfortunately. The leg won’t heal in time. But next year, we’ll be rockin’ ‘em!”

------------

I was still antsy. I still wanted a guy. But I was beginning to think Jordan had the right idea. Grab a shy guy, and, while he was busy being flabbergasted, drag him off to the pods.

I was thinking of doing just that as my period was about to end. But, a couple of days after it ended and I was again able to go full-nude, I still hadn’t done anything about it. Because I wasn’t sure. It was easier for Jordan--she had some experience. I didn’t. I thought my first time should be with an experienced guy, not a Joe Benson. I’d have to think about it some more, but I didn’t want to get into a blind-leading-the-blind situation.

But, while I was deciding, I lost the chance--and it didn’t look like it was going to come around again any time soon. Because, you see, I became the school pariah.

It had to do with soccer, of course. We were playing Davis-Lycoming. They were historically the conference doormats. And, lo and behold, we found ourselves playing them straight up. A game we actually had a chance to win. In fact, it was 0-0 at halftime, and we were starting to carry a lot of the play.

There was one problem. Jordan grew up in Lycoming, played youth soccer there. In other words, she’d played with some of the girls at Davis-Lycoming High--and they knew how good she was. And they quickly figured out that she was who I wanted to pass to. So, after a short time, any time we moved forward, Jordan found herself triple-teamed. And they were sticking to her like glue.

I still tried to force it into her a couple of times. I even tried to take it in myself once or twice. No go--the ones that weren’t guarding Jordan would swarm to me and close right in before I could get a decent shot off.

Which left Jenna.

And I tried. The first pass I gave her, early in the second half, was good but not great. I could cut her some slack for missing that one. It was slightly behind her when it landed at her feet. Yeah, Jordan would’ve handled it, and gotten something off--especially if she were wide open, as Jenna was. But it wasn’t perfect.

The next two were--perfect, I mean. Absolutely. And they were within a few minutes of one another. Both times, I pulled the defense off to one side, towards Jordan and I--including the goalie. Both times, that left Jenna unguarded and with an open net. Both times, I gave her absolutely picture-perfect passes. I mean, they were things of beauty. Right at her feet, an empty net--all she had to do was kick it in.

Both times, she fucked up. The first one, she feebly waved at it with her foot and whiffed. The second one, she didn’t even try--just watched it roll harmlessly past her feet.

I was absolutely livid. I could’ve strangled the bitch.

Those were the last passes she got from me, I can guarantee you that. I tried to force it to Jordan or force it in myself a couple more times. At one point, I even waved Kendra Corrigan forward. Kendra was one of our wingers, an outside midfielder. I brought her forward and we attempted a little give-and-go. It didn’t work. At least Kendra tried!

Of course, seeing all these wasted scoring opportunities demoralized our defense. Late in the second half, Davis-Lycoming scored.

Another fucking loss.

I tried to control myself--I really did. I clomped off to the locker room in a snit, but I tried to hold back. I had pulled my uniform shirt off--hey, I spent half the day nude, did I care about walking off the field in a sports bra?--and I had it balled up in my hand. I was squeezing it to try to relieve the tension. I walked into the locker room, determined to keep control.

And I think I would’ve been successful, if I hadn’t walked into the locker room and seen Jenna. She was sitting on the bench in front of the lockers, huddled up with one of her little buddies--giggling! That fuck had just cost us the game, and she dared sit in the locker room laughing?

That’s when I lost it.

My shirt was what was in my hand, so that’s what I threw. Hard. I missed her head by less than a foot, the shirt went thwap against the lockers. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I screamed. That wiped the smile off her fucking face.

And I wasn’t done. “What the hell was that out there? You cost us the game! You’re absolutely fucking hopeless! And then you have the audacity to sit here and laugh afterwards?

“You’re worse than useless. You fucked this whole team over today. If you can’t work, if you can’t try, then get the fuck off of my soccer team. You’re a disgrace to the uniform.”

With that, I tore off the rest of my clothes and stomped into the showers, steam still coming out of my ears.

Rosa came into the showers after a bit, followed closely by Jordan. And then Rosa shocked me. “Don’t you think you were a little hard on her?” she asked.

“WHAT?!?” I blurted, incredulous. “ Hard on her? Did you see her out there?”

“Well, not really. Don’t forget, I’m down the other end.” 

“Well, then, you don’t know,” I said.

“Yeah, but, whatever she did--I think you overreacted. I mean, come on, Amber--she’s out there at her locker crying!”

Before I had a chance to say anything to that, Jordan did it for me. “Rosa, don’t you know crocodile tears when you see them? Come on,” she snorted. “Yep, she’s crying, all right. She’s starting right in on her own little pity party.”

Rosa looked at Jordan. “You agree with what Amber did?”

“Hell, yes. I would’ve slugged her!”

Just then Bree poked her head into the shower area. “Amber? Coach came out of her office at the end of the screaming. Jenna gave her a sob story, so now Coach wants to see you.”

I took a deep breath. “Please tell Coach it might be best if we talked tomorrow, after I’ve calmed down.”

Bree nodded, and left. She came back a few minutes later, telling me Coach had agreed to that.

I finished my shower and got the hell out of there.

I thought about it when I got home. Could I have been a little less brutal? Perhaps. But I was so damn pissed at her. I mean, laughing! After you blew the game! I thought I was in the right--but I also strongly suspected I was going to be the one that had to pay for it, and in more ways than one.

-------------

I was right. It was the next day that I became a pariah.

Rosa still thought I had gone too far. And she wasn’t the half of it.

Tanya railed at me. Now, I know where a lot of that was coming from--Connor, her boyfriend. Connor was, I’d thought, a good guy--but being a football star made him one of the Beautiful People. And, though he wasn’t one of Jenna’s fuck buddies--he was loyal to Tan--a lot of his friends were. Tan hung around those people, through Connor. I’m sure she’d already heard Jenna’s Tale of Woe.

I didn’t even try to defend myself. You know what? Fuck ‘em. Tan and Rosa even walked right by me as I sat at our usual table at lunch, snubbing me. Fuck ‘em all.

Jordan, Bree, Gabi and Tiffany joined me for lunch. At least I had some support on the team.

The rest of the day was a descent into hell. Murmurs, stares, even the odd shouted insult. It was official. Because I had dared to cross The Princess, I was now officially The School Bitch.

So be it. I really didn’t care. Of course, any chance I had to get laid any time soon just went right out the window. It didn’t even look like Rosa was an option anymore.

After school, I got set to traipse in to the office and see Alice, my coach.

“Sit,” she said. “OK, exactly what happened?”

“I tore Jenna’s miserable little head off, that’s what happened. Verbally, I mean-not physically. Though I was damn tempted.”

“Amber, what were you thinking?”

“What was I thinking? Come on, Alice. You saw the game. You saw what she did. And I came back into that locker room and saw her giggling with one of her buddies. She doesn’t care, she doesn’t work, and she cost us the game.”

“There are better ways to handle it.”

“Yeah. Yank her out of the fucking starting lineup,” I said pointedly. “But you won’t do that.”

She sighed. “You know how difficult this is, Amber. We barely have a team. I’ve got all freshmen--half the team barely knows the game. Who would I start in her place?”

“Move Kendra up. She doesn’t have Jenna’s speed, but she’s got ball skills. And, more importantly, she’ll work.”

“And who goes in Kendra’s place?”

“That’s easy. Taylor.”

She sighed. “I don’t know. That might make us weaker at two positions--Kendra’s doing well at right midfield. I’ll have to think about it. Anyhow, it can’t be next game--I need Taylor to play your position. Amber, I have to suspend you for a game. I just can’t have these kinds of outbursts.”

I’d expected that. “Fine.”

“And you need to make an apology, in that locker room, to Jenna.”

There, I dug in my heels. “Sorry, coach, that just isn’t going to happen.”

“It has to.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Look, Amber, if you don’t, I’ll have to strip you of your captaincy.”

“Fine,” I spat.

She was flabbergasted. “You’d give up being a captain instead of giving a little apology?”

“You know what? As much as I love soccer, as much as it means to me--I’d quit the team before I apologized to that little snot.”

“You wouldn’t!”

I took a breath. “Alice, let me spell it out for you. I hate that sickening little fuck with every fiber of my being. I cannot possibly overstate my complete loathing of Jenna Zambrano. She makes me ill. Apologize to that? I will not lower myself. No matter what it costs me. My self-respect is more important.”

Poor Alice’s jaw was hitting the floor.  “You know what my little pet name for her is? Knick-knack. You know, that’s just what she is--a knick-knack. Pretty and all--but basically useless and just takes up space. And, what’s worse, the way she’s not a knick-knack is being whiny and manipulative. I have no use for Princesses who bat their eyelashess and turn on the water works when the world doesn’t bow to their whims. Fuck Jenna. I’ll never apologize.”

Alice took a minute to absorb that diatribe. Finally, she said, “OK. But you need to find another way to deal with her.”

“I’ll work on it.”

“Consider your captaincy under warning.”

“Fine.”

--------------------------

Practice that day, and shortly thereafter, wasn’t pleasant. Lines had clearly been drawn on the team. And it didn’t affect just me and Jenna. Bree was incensed that Rosa had shunned me, so they were barely speaking to one another. When your sweeper wasn’t communicating with your goalkeeper, you had yourself a problem--those two positions are very intertwined.

I sat out the next game. Poor Taylor was completely overmatched. She did her best, but she was dealing with a team at war with itself and a forward she couldn’t count on at all. We got hammered.

The next game, I was back in. And, in some ways, you could say that I threw the game.

It was against Sweetwater. They were the biggest school in the conference, and a perennial power. In all sports, but their girls’ soccer team was particularly strong. In other words, we had little chance of winning in any case. So, I used the game to prove a point.

I passed the ball to Jenna. All day long. Hey, it was the smart play--Jordan was costantly triple-teamed again. Jenna was the open forward, repeatedly. So, she got the ball, repeatedly. And she fucked up, repeatedly.

After the game, in the locker room, I didn’t plan to say a word. I’d done what I’d planned. I’d exposed her, for all to see--that was my full intention.

This time, she started it. She saw me sitting there, stormed over to me, and thundered, “You humiliated me!”

“How?” I said with fake sweetness. “All I did was pass you the ball. Isn’t that my job?”

“But you kept passing it to me, even when I wasn’t in position!”

“You’re never in position,” I spat.

“And you never usually pass to me--you did it deliberately!”

“You were open,” I shrugged. “Not my fault you can’t handle the pass.”

“Well, Amber, we all can’t be as good as you.”

Nice of her to admit it, in front of the whole team. Of course that went without saying. And I told her the truth. “I wasn’t born good. I worked my ass off to get this good. Of course, working is a complete foreign concept to you.”

“Some of us have other priorities,” she sneered. “Like guys. Oh, I forgot--you don’t know anything about making time for guys, do you?”

Oh, fuck, did I want to hit her right then. I wanted to pound my fist into her face and shatter those oh-so-perfect cheekbones. But I didn’t. “You know, Jenna, if you’re having trouble keeping up with your social obligations, there’s an easy solution. I mean, practices and games take up so much time. If you quit the team, you’d have so much more time for guys.”

“Oh, I have plenty of time for guys,” she sneered. “And I’m here for every practice.”

“You need more than that.”

“If I cared that much. Listen, Amber, soccer isn’t life-and-death to me. Some people may have no other life, but I can’t help that. You want to spend all your high school years on this soccer field, be my guest. Then again, what else do you have to live for?”

I think that I just might have slugged her that time--but Alice, the coach, chose that moment to make her presence known. “That’s enough,” she spat.

“Jenna, I have to say, I don’t like what I just heard,” she continued. “You’ve just stated your complete lack of commitment to this team. I’ve tried to work with you--but Amber’s right. You’ve made it plain you don’t want to work. So, I’m making a change. Kendra, I’m moving you up to forward. Taylor, you’re starting on the right side of midfield. Jenna, you’re on the bench. I have too many players that want to work. You don’t.”

Afterwards, Alice came up to me and said, “Now that’s the way to handle things.”

-------

Would that it made a difference in the rest of my life. It didn’t. Not even a little bit. Becaue Jenna, of course, put the spin on. I humiliated her and that’s why she’s not starting, blah blah blah. None of it could possibly be *her* fault.

And, I have to admit it--what she said got to me, dammit. Not that I put that much emphasis on soccer. I did, and didn’t have a problem doing so. No, it was the taunting about guys. It really got to me.

I mean, shit. Was that what I had to do? To become phony and fake and manipulative? Is that what I had to do to get a guy? Jesus. I wasn’t a bad person. Really, I wasn’t. And, Jesus, all I really wanted to go was get laid. I had a pussy, didn’t I? I wasn’t the most beautiful girl in school, but I was decent. I wasn’t ugly. And I was shunned like some redheaded bastard stepchild.

In the days after that last confrontation with Jenna, it all came down on my head. It just got all so depressing. The shunning, the whispering, the complete lack of positive attention from guys. I ended up going home a couple of times crying. I did not cry, dammit! 

And I had nobody to talk to. My parents were well-meaning, but oftentimes clueless. My two best supposed friends were giving me the cold shoulder. I’d started a nice frienship with Jordan--but the key word in that sentence was “started”. I didn’t know Jordan well enough to dump all my shit on her. There was Tiffany, but she had enough on her own plate.

Not for the first time in the last year and a half, I missed Lily. My big sister. She was out in California, at USC. There was someone I could talk to. So, I called her on the phone. It wasn’t quite the same, but at least I could talk to her. And she said what she always says--don’t take any shit, stick to your guns, things will work out. It was a good pep talk.

Of course, it was also easy for her to say--she had Mike, her boyfriend. Which meant, not only could she get laid anytime she wanted, she also had someone to lean on. Mike and Lily were true soulmates. Yes, I was jealous! But in a good way--I loved them both. I just wanted to find my *own* Mike.

Or, at the least, get laid.

------

The last week in October, I hit rock-bottom.

School was bad enough. I’d walk down the hall and get taunted. It was worse if any of them ever saw me near the pods. “What are you doing here, Amber? You certainly don’t think you’re going to get anyone to go in there with you, do you?” Jenna taunted me one day. And I was just walking by!

The few friends I had tried to buck me up. Jordan and Tiffany most especially. One of Jenna’s pals was teasing me once about ‘not even being able to get kissed’ when Tiffany walked up to me and laid a good one on me. Made everybody else gasp. I really appreciated it. “I’ll gladly go in the pods with you, I’m still bi,” she told me once that week. I turned her down only because of the confusion I felt about Rosa. Being with a guy was one thing--being with another girl was a completely different kettle of fish. Tiff understood. But I really did appreciate the offer. 

But, except for a few brief rays of sunshine like Tiff and Jordan, everything sucked. Even on the soccer field. We had a game, and it was the worst game of soccer I’ve ever played in my life. And by a lot. I was just horrendous. I couldn’t have played a worse game if I tried.

I was distracted. I was tired. I was sick of trying to be the captain of a team on which half the players hated me. I was tired of sticking to my guns and watching it all collapse in my face. For the first time since I’d started playing it, I wanted soccer to go away. It’s not that I wasn’t trying. It’s that I didn’t have the energy. Soccer had become a source of misery, instead of the solace it had always been. I wasn’t happy, and it affected my play.

Of course, when I got back into the locker room, I heard about it. Not from Jenna herself, of course--she’d already gotten herself in hot water. No, this came from Deb Davidson, our starting stopper on defense and one of Jenna’s pals.

“Nice game, Amber,” she snorted as I walked into the locker room. I didn’t say anything. She kept it up. “Well, look at this--the almighty Amber Woodard, God’s gift to soccer, has a shitty game and can’t handle it!” I just let her prattle on. I couldn’t deal with it. Let her think what she wanted--she was no Pele on the field herself. Even at half-speed, I was better than Deb. I just didn’t care what she thought. Well, normally I wouldn’t care what she thought--but things were just starting to get to me. I couldn’t do this anymore.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she demanded.

I didn’t. I just walked past her into Alice’s office. “Oh, there you go, go tattle to the coach!” she shouted after me. “What a wuss.”

I ignored her. Well, I pretended to. I just couldn’t deal. “Alice?” I said.

“Come in, Amber. Something on your mind?”

“I’m resigning my captaincy. Effective now.” And I turned to leave.

“WAIT!” she yelled. “Amber, get back here! Don’t you think we should discuss this?”

“What’s to discuss?”

“Amber, I think this is a mistake,” she said. “I really wish you’d think about it.”

I took a deep breath. “I have thought about it. I’ve though about it a lot. Alice, I am perilously close to quitting soccer altogether. Resigning the captaincy of a team where half the players hate my guts is a no-brainer.”

Poor Alice--I shocked her into complete silence with that declaration. Before she got her wits about her, I walked out of her office. I sat down at my locker, and started pulling my uniform off, trying to ignore every other person in the room.

Alice came out of her office, and looked at me. I didn’t even look up at her. She sighed. “OK, girls, gather round. We need to have a little meeting.” She took another breath, and tried to look at me again. No, Alice, I thought, I’m not going to change my mind. “Folks, we need to elect a new captain to join Bree. Amber’s given up her captaincy.”

The gasps went around the room. I refused to look up. I didn’t want to look at any of them--especially those that were, no doubt, pleased. I didn’t have to--Deb opened her damn mouth again. “What’s the matter, Amber, not up to being our fearless leader? Can’t take the pressure, huh, Amber?”

“That will be enough!” Alice blasted. That shut Deb up, but I didn’t care.

I just could not take any more. I wanted to cry, and I was not going to cry in front of the team. I couldn’t. I got up off the bench and grabbed my stuff, trying not to look at anyone. I turned to Alice and said, “My vote goes to Jordan.” Then I got the hell out of there.

----

Jordan called me that night. She wasn’t elected captain--Torie Dallas was. That was fine. Torie was an ‘above the fray’ type who didn’t get caught up in all the bullshit. She was probably a good choice, if only for temperament. She was still learning how to play, but she worked hard and was getting better, and got along with just about everybody. I knew Jordan wouldn’t win--she wouldn’t get votes from the anti-Amber faction, because of her friendship with me. Torie was a good compromise.

Then, Jordan dropped another bombshell on me. “I hate to tell you this, but I figured you’d be better off hearing it from me.”

“OK, shoot,” I said.

“Rosa told me about a halloween party she’s having. Actually, her friend Tanya’s having it at her house, but she and Rosa are throwing it together. I was told I was invited. I was also told not to let you know anything about it.”

“Jesus. What did you say?”

“I told Rosa not to expect me. I also told her it was a rotten thing she was doing, and if she expected me to not let you know you were being back-stabbed, she was crazy.” 

“Thanks, Jordan. What did she say to that?”

“Oh, she got all upset. Said she couldn’t invite you, Tan said that if you came nobody else would.”

“That didn’t use to matter to them. We could have fun with just the three of us.”

“Ah,” Jordan said. “Well, you know, it’s Tan, I think. It’s that whole Connor Enfield thing. Listen, Connor’s a good guy, but he hangs around with the Beautiful People--and I think it’s gone straight to Tanya’s head. And I know, because Rosa told me, that she and Tan have been best friends long before either of them met you.”

“Which is true,” I confirmed. “But, still. Jesus. Jordan, there are times I just want to give up.”

“Give up?”

“Quit the team, quit everything--honestly, I’ve considered transferring to Westport High.”

“Amber, you wouldn’t!”

“I don’t know. Naked High’s not working out for me, not like I expected, not at all.”

“Amber.” Jordan took a deep breath. “I hope this doesn’t offend you, but--well, you never struck me as someone who was a quitter.”

“I never thought of myself as one, either. But quitting seems awfully appealing right now.”

“Just think about it.”

“I will, believe me. But if things don’t get better, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

----------

The next day was just torture. People were pointing and staring all through school. Jenna and Deb and some of their friends passed by me laughing. And practice?

I think it’s the first time I’ve ever been on a soccer field that I didn’t say a word. Not a fucking word. I just played my position and kept my mouth shut. No communication, no direction, nothing. They don’t like what I have to say? Fine, then I won’t talk. I wasn’t the captain anymore, anyway.

Afterwards, Rosa came up to me. “Amber, can we talk?”

“I don’t see why,” I snorted.

“Jordan told you. She said she was going to.” I nodded. “Listen, Tan and I talked about this. We couldn’t invite you. If we invited you, the three of us would be the only ones at the party. I’m sorry, but nobody else would come if you were there.”

“You know, there was a time when that wouldn’t have mattered to you!” I burst out. “The three of us was enough! But now Tan’s gotten sucked up into the popular clique, and she pulls you right along with her.”

“Amber, try to see this from our point of view.”

“WHAT?” I lost it then. “Your point of view? How about mine? Do you have any fucking idea how much this hurts? Do you know how many times in the past month I’ve cried myself to sleep? All over a waste of space like Jenna Zambrano? My life has completely fucking fallen apart and you want me to see it from your point of view? I thought we were friends. Fuck that, I thought we were more than friends. The shit I get from the rest of the school is bad enough. But you--you have completely betrayed me. I hope you can sleep at night. Because I’m having trouble.” With that, I walked away, leaving her staring at me, dumbfounded.

-------

Classes were better, but only a little. I did have some support, much to my surprise. One guy who came up to me after class was this guy named Aaron Bielinsky. Everyone called him Moose. I knew he had become friends with my journal partner Joe Benson. However, otherwise he was quiet and shy and had never said two words to me. 

He was in a couple of my classes, including History, my last class of the day. Right after all of this shit happened, he came up behind me on the way out of history and said, “Hey, Amber. Don’t let the jerks get you down.” And then he kept walking. It was actually really nice of him to do.

Another one was Stacia Averbuk, the chubby girl I’d met the first day. Now, I’ve watched, and seen that she had her own problems. But that didn’t stop her from walking up to me on the way into Geometry class and saying, “Hey. I think what’s being done to you is awful. But I know how it goes, so if you need to vent, I’m available.”

Surprised, I thanked her. She just waved it off. But two periods later, at lunch, I waved her over to sit with Tiffany, Jordan, and I. She was very grateful, and I was glad to have her.  Hey, we outcasts had to stick together.

Stacia was in my Biology class, which was right after lunch, my second-to-last class of the day. That was an interesting class. Not just for good reasons, because Jenna and her buddy Deb were in it--as were Rosa and Tanya, who I obviously wasn’t too happy with. But Stacia was in that class, as was Tiffany. 

Ms. T had made some comment about being fondled. You know, in your private parts. This was part of the sex-ed component of Biology--in this school, a big component. And Jenna made some kind of comment about, “Well, don’t ask Amber, she wouldn’t know anything about being fondled.” The little group of them all giggled at that--including Rosa, who knew better.

Before Ms. T could reprimand them, Tiffany did it for her. “Oh, Amber certainly knows what it’s like to be masturbated. Believe me. And she was only 11, which is probably more than any of you can say. And I’m probably better than any boy you’ve ever had!”

The class giggled, and I decided to get my own dig in. “Yeah, and I don’t know why the hell Rosa’s laughing it up with the rest of you over there. She really should know better--since we’ve been lovers for two years.” Rosa turned bright red, as Jenna and Deb looked at her in disbelief. Score one for me!

“Amber, are you a lesbian?” Ms. T. asked. “I should know these things for when we get into future lessons.”

“No, Ms. T., I’m bi,” I said. “I like girls, but I like boys too.” I looked right at Zach Provost, one of the ‘shy guys’ in school. “In fact, I looooove boys.” That cracked everyone up, except for my little knot of detractors, but who cared? It got the rest of the class laughing with me, which was nice. And Zach blushed bright red. It was very cute. But I smiled at him to let him know I was just playing with him, and he smiled back. He really was cute. If I decided to pull a Jordan and take a shy guy into the pods, Zach might be a fine choice.

There were other amusing things that happened in Biology, too. Two of the kids in that class were Trina Christopher and Dylan Lashko. Now, my sister Lily went to school with their older siblings--Ty Christopher and Emma Lashko. Ty and Emma had been going out since Sophomore year in high school. Since they were sophomores in college now, that was four years--and they were plainly headed to the altar. Ty had played baseball with Lily--he was a power-hitting first baseman--and Lily knew them well. So, I had met them quite a few times. They were both good people, and very much in love.

So, I’d also known Trina and Dylan, since they’d been in school with me since I moved here. And the amusing part--for anyone that knew Ty and Emma--was that Trina and Dylan hated one another. I mean, absolute complete loathing. It really was funny if you knew that someday they were going to be related. 

So, one day heading into Biology, they walked in just screaming at one another. I don’t even know what it was about--those two don’t really need a reason--they were just hurling insults at this point. Rosa--who, of course, also knew the backstory through her brother Frankie--walked up behind them while they were yelling. She grinned, and said, “You know, I can’t wait until Ty and Emma get married. You two are going to have a brawl going down the aisle!” I had to laugh. Dylan and Trina looked chagrined, and stopped yelling. 

Another class that could be fun was cooking.

Now, the way the classes at Naked High were scheduled for freshmen were pretty rigid. Electives, the bulk of them, would come in later years. There were only seven class periods. Five of them were reserved for required full-week classes: Biology, English, Geometry, Ancient History, and a language. (The school offered Spanish, French, Russian, German, and Japanese. I took Spanish.) 

The other two class periods each had a required MWF class: gym for one, and computers for the other. Now, for the TTh part of the week, there was some choice. In the gym period, you could take art or music. In the computers period, you could take audio/visual, or cooking. Now, most guys in that period took AV, and most girls took cooking. Gender roles still ruled--but not completely. Honestly, I took cooking because I was good at electronic stuff but not a good cook at all. When I was still friends with Rosa and Tan--who were in that class--some of my feeble attempts got me some good-natured razzing. Two months into the school year, though, and I was getting better.

There was one guy in that class--the aforementioned Moose Bielinski. As I’ve said, Moose was quiet and shy--but wasn’t at all self-conscious about being the only guy in a cooking class. Our teacher, Mrs. Paulson, asked him about it at the beginning of the year. And, he said, “Hey, guys cook. A lot of guys end up living on their own, right? My Dad told me that before he met my Mom, he lived on rice for two years, because he couldn’t cook anything else. Either that or he went broke at the Burger Hut. I’d rather learn how to cook.” Everyone thought that was a cool answer.

Anyhow, Mrs. Paulson teamed us up a lot for various projects. At the end of October, she paired Moose and I up to bake a cake. Moose was actually a better cook than I was at this point, so I let him lead. Actually, I had to prod him into leading--he really was quite shy. But it was going well--until I learned something about Moose.

He’s clumsy. Really clumsy. It was a bowl of flour. He knocked it over, and it went all over the place. I mean, all over the place--the table, him, me. Our whole little area, including the two of us, was covered in flour. I wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to insult him.

That’s when I found out something else about Moose--what came to be known around school as the Polish Joke. “I am so Polish,” he blurted, looking at the flour everywhere. “What a completely Polish thing to do.” Then he looked at me. “I’ll have to get you a tee shirt made up. ‘The clumsy Polish guy spilled flour all over me. Pity me.’” Then he started singing--wildly off-key--a bastardized version of an old country song: “Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be Polish.” It was hilarious. I was laughing so hard I got flour up my nose.

Now, my best friend back in Boston, where I lived up until sixth grade, was Polish--so I knew a little about Polish food. So, after I’d stopped laughing, I looked at Moose and said, “Jeez, Moose, what are we ever going to do if she has us make kapusta? That would be an overload of Polishness, wouldn’t it? I can see it now. Cabbage in the air vents, all over my boobs, up your nose....” He blinked, and then roared. He didn’t stop laughing for five minutes. After class, he walked up to me and said, “Kapusta. That was perfect. Thanks for the belly-laugh.”

So, there was hope. It wasn’t perfect, but if I could make a nice guy like Moose crack up, there was hope. I just had to hope the Jenna shit died down sometime soon.

---------------

I spent Halloween at home. Luckily, Jordan and Tiffany joined me. We gave candy out to the little kids, giggled with one another, ate too much chocolate. At least I had some friends. 

The next day, November 1st, I had to meet with Joe to swap journals. November 1st was actually a Saturday, so I went over to his house. Though I was happy to see Maggie and get to say hi to her, otherwise I was not looking forward to this. Joe’s best friend was Patrick Drouin--and Patrick was one of the ones who was regularly dipping his wick into Jenna Zambrano. I figured Patrick had already poisoned Joe towards me. This wasn’t going to be fun at all, I figured.

I was surprised. I was very pleasantly surprised. 

--end of chapter--