Rachel's Tutor

I was sad to see Rachel go. She had introduced me to a whole new life, one I knew I was going to embrace. 

Well…not out in the open. God, if my parents ever found out what I was, they’d probably disown me! Hard-core conservatives. If only they knew that their only daughter now found women incredibly sexy. HA! 

Well, they came home late from my aunt’s wedding, but neither looked like it was any fun. As they walked in my dad just kept going up the stairs, and my mom just looked stunned and appalled at the same time.

"So um…how was it?" I asked, meekly.

My mom just looked over at me. "I am so glad you are normal," was the first thing she said. "I am SO glad I didn’t let you come, your aunt could’ve- OOH!" She sat down in a huff on the couch, wiping her nose and looking just all pissed off. "You know what my sister did? Do you? Seems this-this Alex-" and she just drew that name out, like a disease, "-that she was so full of gusto over…is, is a woman! My sister married a woman! She’s this, this, this dyke! Oh, she looked like she was in love, oh did she put on an act. I tell you, she’s just lazy! Never tried to go for a real man, had to settle for something less." She sniffed in the air, like loving a woman was up there with having AIDS or something. This only further convinced me to keep my choices private.

My dad stomped his way down the stairs, taking off his tie and opening his jacket.

"Hey, Dad, is it true Aunt Sheila mar-"

"I don’t want to talk about it. You don’t talk about your aunt in this house, is that understood?" He eyeballed me, digging in his disgust over the whole incident.

"Um…sure, yeah," I quickly agreed, as if I hadn’t changed over the last week and a half. "I already ate dinner, so I’ll head on to bed, okay?" Both parents just waved me away, both seeming to want to continue to rave about my aunt without my presence interrupting. I half ran to my room, shut the door, and just fell the floor. My breathing was fast, and I was half-scared/half-overjoyed. Their reaction to a lesbian in the family was more then what I had expected; gay bashing was like drinking coffee for them, it sounded like. I knew that, if I wanted to be loved by them, I couldn’t let them ever know. Ever. But at the same time, I was just jumping inside. Aunt Sheila was like me (or I was like her). I wasn’t completely alone! 

The news of the wedding was kept very terse; either we never spoke of it, or whenever the topic was even brushed somebody got the evil eye. And we never, ever, dared say anything to anyone we knew. I kept to myself, continuing on with life. With a few minor changes

The first thing I did was toss-out (well, burn really) the Playgirl magazine I had hidden. I knew I wouldn’t have use of it anymore. Second, I dumped Nick like a brick (which he seemed all broken up over for about point-two seconds before hitting on the girl at the McDonald’s drivethrough). I knew being boyfriend-less couldn’t last, but I knew what I had to do.

My parents would worry if I didn’t have a boyfriend; they thought that despite never allowing me a real social life, I could, and should, pick up boys like picking flowers. Not to brag, but while it wasn’t easy, I didn’t struggle too much. I planned on just going through the guys at school; never really staying with one and just letting them think I was over-selective. 

School continued on, and my plan went off without a hitch. Within a month I had "dated" two guys and just as efficiently broke up, acting like they hadn’t tried to woo me at all (they hadn’t, they’d only tried to get in my pants). I lived day by day; trying to find a girl who I thought would understand where I was coming from. This wasn’t easy, as most girls, I’ve found, are excellent actresses when they want to be. The very few I thought could handle it I took out on a "girl’s night out" type deal, to see how they did. Both Becky and Celia were either hid their feeling really well, or they never caught any of my subtle hints of desire. 

For a time I just gave up, staying with one boy, Dustin, for a while. I was bored, and wasn’t enjoying it. My body was slowly starting to mature; my breasts were now the size of grapefruits, and I could fill out a bra with the best of them in the locker room (and I made sure of how well I measured up). I was getting harder for me to have hope; finding a woman like Rachel could take me ‘til I got into COLLEGE. And I refused to hold my lust back that long, I honestly didn’t think I had the will power. 

The soccer season ended (and we sucked, winning only two games, and one of those was against another school’s C-squad), and I was left to only school, home, and Dustin. None of those options were appealing, and I was starting to get desperate. School was nothing to giggle over, my friends not having my same "special interest", and having to move into a higher English class only added to my workload. Dustin kept dropping open hints he wanted more then a cheek kiss at night. And at home my parents, still fresh from the wedding fiasco, made sure whatever I saw didn’t have a hint of women liking each other and hung around me when I was at home like ghosts; the only place I could have any privacy was in my room or in the bathroom.

I did manage to sneak a few delicate items past their notice, however. I replaced my Playgirl with a Penthouse special featuring all lesbians, added a long, thick vibrator to the collection, and dumped my old teal thong and bra at the dumpster at the mall, while buying myself a new, sexier, set. I was all set with no woman to go to. 

Things changed come that December. My advanced english teacher, Mr. Steinreld, asked me to stay after class. Knowing that I had to meet Dustin after the bell, and that he ‘really’ wanted to see me, I was more then happy to stay after. Steinreld explained that, as I was really getting a grasp of what we were going over (Shakespeare…ugh, don’t get me started) and as I was a class higher then I should’ve been, I might be willing to help out a slipping student. I was unsure; I knew the kids in school, and while I wasn’t an outsider, I wasn’t always invited to big parties on the weekends. Helping out someone may just be that seventh plate at Thanksgiving I didn’t need. 

Mr. Steinreld said I’d be tutoring Amanda Grace. And at that, I brought a complete blank. Who the hell was Amanda Grace?

Seeing this balding teacher’s eyes practically begging me to help this girl, I sighed and said I’d do it.

Great, he said, and I could meet her tomorrow. Giving a false cheery face, I walked away. Outside the school, I saw Dustin looking pissed over by his car. As soon as I was within sufficient distance, he went off, yelling about loving me, thinking I loved him, and waiting for a fucking half-hour, that he was through with this shit, and blah blah blah blah BLAH! 

He got in his Chevy piece of shit, slammed the door, and spins his ass out of the parking lot. I grinned as I watched, glad I was rid of the asshole, but then groaned out loud. He had been my ride home. Disgusted I hadn’t broken up with him until AFTER getting home, I prepared for a long walk. I then saw this girl getting into a beater of a car just a few spaces away. I think she lived up past my street, up in the private estates on the hill. She was dressed in heavy Goth clothing, and would’ve been quickly overlooked by anyone who thought they were better then her. She had pale makeup on, and I could see she dyed her hair that jet black; the blond roots were easily seen on top. Taking a breath, I walked over and put a smile on my face.

"Hi!" I greeted, trying to sound warm, "um, you probably saw, but my boyfriend just…" I pointed the way out and giggled, like I saw my friends do. I was puking inside, not believing I was actually using their tactics for free stuff. 

The girl just looked up at me. Her nose was piece, and she easily had three or four pieces up along her ear. She just gave me this real ugly look, like I was breathing smoke into her face, revved up her beater and pulled away. I was leaning against the door, so I nearly fell when she did this.

"Bitch!" I yelled as she pulled out the lot. Brushing snow off my jacket, I trudged home, and didn’t make it back before it started to get dark at four o’clock. My day was shot to hell, but I knew that whoever this Amanda Grace I had to deal with tomorrow couldn’t be as bad as the bitch I just met.

The next day, Friday, passed and I was once again in the English room with Steinreld. He said that Amanda was in his second period class, and she’d be just a minute. I nodded, took a seat far from the front desk and opened a book in front of me. (Steinreld had a small rep of seating the big chested girls closest to him in, and as I was the only female in there, I wasn’t about to be ogled)

The door opened, after what seemed like too long, and I looked up to see this Amanda Grace.

AHH! It was the Goth chick from yesterday! (Yeah, I know, you saw that coming, but life is stranger than fiction)