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CHAPTER 1 Mid March, 1990 “Alix, I’ll be a bugger if I don’t get my way! You know you want a band; you’re too bloody good with that guitar to not have a band.” “Yeah, and so says you. You’re a biased l’il bitch.” “I wouldn’t humor you ‘cause you’re my best friend, Alix. You know I’m a bitch. Why would I tell you you’re good if you’re a total asswipe?” “I’ve heard worse lies outta’ ya’, Kim.” “Never to you.” “Look, I’ve gotta’ get to my classes. We’re already late.” “Eh, it’s an easy way to make a grand entrance. All the boys seem t’ like you.” “All the boys seem t’ like my clothes, you mean. Just once, I’d like to be in an American school. I’m getting bloody sick of this shirt.” “But you’ve got to love the skirt. Add a few leather straps, you’ve got yourself one helluva’ horny crowd of S&M freaks followin’ you around.” “I notice you’ve got yours hiked up today.” “Well, why not? I’m free, Alix. Let’m come and try to get me, I’ll break as many of the l’il buggers hearts as I can.” Alexandra Stark stopped and turned around to observe Kimberly Standen. “First, might I say, you’ve got awesome legs, but if you really want them to see that, you need the skirt even shorter.” “I’m not gettin’ myself tossed out this close to school’s end. I woulda’ pulled that last year, but not now.” “You’re just a wimp!” Kimberly started walking. “Wimpy little Kimberly!” “If you’re tryin’ to rhyme, you’re not gettin’ anywhere.” “C’mon, Kim, show us a l’il skin.” “Should I be worried that you’re the one askin’ for a view?” “Nah, I’ve seen it all before. Nothing exciting.” Kimberly made a face, not wanting to think about last time she’d managed to get herself completely piss-faced with Alexandra. She usually tried her best not to drink, but Alix brought out the worst in her. When she got drunk, she did stupid things. Last time, it had been a game of strip poker with her, Alix and a bunch of guys that ended with her completely losing the game and also getting laid by some guy she’d never see again in her life. “Tell you what.” Kimberly adjusted the textbooks she had held under one arm. “Wha’?” “The skirt’ll go higher and I’ll unbutton the shirt all the way down to my diddies if you promise to start up a band with me.” “I’d think you’d have given up on this band shit by now, what with all the ones you’ve gone through.” “Wha’, you think the Dickless Shits or the Backdoor Cockheads were really bands? They were talentless nobs who had me in the band as the token fuckable front-girl.” “I don’t think Direct Caution or Badly Timed Miscreation would like your new names for them.” “Well, bugger them all. I’m not gettin’ into another shithole like that. I want my own band. I wanna’ call the shots. And I want it to be all girls. Punk, of course, to counter the god awful grunge the Americans are trying to push on us.” “Didn’t we push it on them?” “Look, do you think I really care? We just got ourselves into the ‘90s, and this new decade is promising us shit-for-brains, trash music. What happened to The Sex Pistols? What happened to Siouxsie Sioux? What happened to The Sisters of Mercy?” “They’re still around, luv.” “Yeah, and they’re bloody well hiding their heads in the sand. I want to make something like Bauhaus, only more intense, more punk, and all bloody well girls!” “Well, if you risk getting yourself kicked out of school, you’ve got yourself one girly for your band. Now, I want to see that skirt go higher, and I want to see those tits.” “They’re rather nice, aren’t they?” Kimberly asked as she undid the top three buttons. “I had Robert Finley near fallin’ over last weekend when he saw me in a tight shirt for the first time. There’s no forgettin’ the look on his face. He ran into a tree. Serves the bugger right for staring so hard.” “Didn’t you go out with him once?” “Yeah, when I was just a kid. Not a very good kisser, so I had t’ get rid of ‘im.” Alexandra shook her head. “I would’ve kept him for a while, y’know, just so he was crushed that much more when you let him go.” “I’m a bitch, Alix, not a sadist.” “I have yet to find the difference between.” “I’m sure there is one.” “No, not a difference in the world.” “Oh, do shut up.” “Not until you’ve finished with your look for the day.” “Then hold my books, would you?” She shoved them at Alexandra, dropping them into her hands. After a moment of wondering if her parents would yell at her or just ignore the call home, she hiked her skirt up far enough so that the entire school would see her scanties if she bent over. “You do know this means it might be dangerous to sit down?” “Let it be dangerous. You only live once.” “You know you owe me for this big time, Alix dear.” “Yeah, yeah. I owe you a band.” “You owe me a bloody good band! If we don’t get signed within a year of forming, I’m never speaking to you again.” “Like you could follow through on that one, Kim.” “I can follow through on a lot more than you think.” “I’m just not going there, luv. Now hurry on to class. Give me a full report after school.” “I’ll give you the report now: lotsa’ asswipes makin’ cat calls, me gettin’ kicked out for the rest of the day, then an interesting walk home with every bloke I see on the street tryin’ to pick me up.” “Well, if it goes like that, it sounds like quite a good day.” “Bloody hell, I’m not that much of an attention seeker. I’ll let you be, Alix, but I don’t want to fuck everything with a prick that crosses my path. I just want to torture them all.” “Goes hand in hand with being a femi-nazi, of course.” “Oh, you’re closer to femi-nazism than you’d ever admit.” “Run along to class, Kim. The lads are waiting.” Alexandra flashed her sexiest grin then licked her lips. “Don’t disappoint them, now.” “You realize I’m prob’ly making you do this tomorrow, right?” “Oh sure, sure. I’ll do it without havin’ t’ be asked.” “You’re a l’il slut.” “And you’re a l’il bitch. What a wonder that we’re such good friends.” “Look, I have to go humiliate myself now. Would you bugger off?” “Gladly. Just wish I had a picture of Kimberly Standen in her prime, about to get jumped by everything with a prick in her history class.” “Thank you for the nightmarish image. I’m goin’.” With a deep breath, she left Alexandra behind. She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and made sure that the sleeves puffed out just enough between the roll and the shoulders. She adjusted the collar, so everything was just that much more exposed. Her hand strayed down to the side of her skirt. This was insane; her fingers could almost reach the bottom. “You’re a bloody loon, that’s what you are.” She closed her eyes to compose herself. “A bloody fuckin’ loon.” At least she was getting a band out of the deal. Her oh-so-understanding (as if there could be anything more sarcastic ever said) history teacher did a double take when she walked into the room. The entire class was hollering, and a few of the boys asked her how much she charged. “I’m too much for you, little man,” she said directly to Connor Winston, an old ex of hers, running her hand across his desk as she passed. “Besides, didn’t you have that chance already?” Connor pulled back, blushing. He hid his face, even though none of the students in the class were looking at him. Kim spun around, letting the entire class get a full view. “Any takers?” “You’ll have to specify ‘oo you’re goin’ after.” That was Marcus Stanley, the resident asswipe. He had been after Kimberly until she made it clear she would never go out with him by kneeing him in the groin so hard he thought he was going to die. “I’ve heard you’ve changed streams; what’s it like bein’ a lezzie?” “It keeps you in much better company than bein’ straight, but that’s jus’ a guess.” She dropped her textbooks onto her desk, then carefully slid into her chair. She could feel the skirt riding up even higher. “Awright, what’ve we learned today?” Mr. Carson had finally finished staring, and he pulled himself away from the chalkboard, which he’d had his back firmly planted on since Kim walked into the room. “Kimberly Standen, might I ask what you’re doing?” “Look, I’m sorry for being such a bother, it was just so bloody hot in the halls, I felt like I was melting. I could button everything back up and all, but then I’ll jus’ start sweatin’ like a pig. Not the smartest thing to do with a white shirt, y’know?” The boys in class started making noise again. Marcus told them it wouldn’t be worth it, to which Kimberly turned around in her seat and stared at him. “You want a l’il peak, boy? It might kill you, so that’s why I’m askin’ first.” “Try me.” “Fine, after class. You can see all ya’ want, but no touchin’.” She played with the fourth button, and all the guys were now leaning over in their chairs, waiting to see what she would do with that button. She just let her fingers fall away, then turned around to face the chalkboard and the bright red Mr. Carson. Being a fat, three-months divorced man, Mr. Carson was horny as all hell. Kimberly knew this wasn’t the class that would get her in trouble, since all he would do was look and wish. It was last class, the mandatory language (which she had chosen as German, since the Sisters’ Andrew Eldritch knew a little German), which would get her kicked out of school for a week or so. Maybe that would stun her parents out of their spiteful silence for a little while. She’d like to get into a fight with her dad, just to prove to him which side of the family she took off from most. As history drew to an end, she grabbed her texts and almost ran for the door. She didn’t want Marcus to hold her to that bit of bravado. He caught up with her, though, and so did half the guys from class. “Well, this is quite a crowd. It’ll hafta’ be a quickie, though, ‘cause I can’t be late for my next class.” “You’re talented if you can do a quickie with this many blokes. Being a lezzie must’ve really taught you a few things.” Marcus smiled cruelly. “Oh, do quit bangin’ on about that lezzie thing. Just because I hate you and most other things with pricks attached doesn’t mean I’m all for girls. I could swing both ways, y’know.” “Want to prove that?” “Look, you’re just here for a quick peep show, then I hafta’ get my arse movin’ to German.” “And what a fine arse it is.” “Look, will someone hold my bloody books?” Marcus took them from her. “Now I want to see you bare all.” “Well, if you want my bare diddies, you’ll have to wait for school to be over. I’m not gettin’ myself arrested for something so stupid.” She glanced around the hall to see if there were any teachers, or worse yet administration, around. None. “This is the first time and the last time, awright?” “Whatever you say.” The circle of boys around her closed in tighter. She sighed and undid all the buttons on her shirt, then held it open so they could see. She was in great shape. Not too skinny, because she believed in actually eating, but very well formed from the hour of running she did every day. And, of course, everyone on her mother’s side of the family had big breasts, so that had been passed on to her. “Satisfied?” “I guess I can accept that.” She redid the buttons (except the top three) and took her books back from Marcus. “Now, you’ve gotten what you wanted--” “You said I could see all I wanted, though.” “Not in school, you don’t. I hafta’ get to my next class.” She pushed through the circle of stunned boys and headed off to her German class. That was the one class she had with Alexandra, so it would prove to be at least as interesting as history had been. Upon entering the room, Frau Brenner starting going on a rant in German, probably asking her why the hell she was wearing her clothing like that. Kim couldn’t quite get it all. She stood at the front of the room, feeling the eyes of everyone there on her, and she stammered out the best reply in German that she could. “Es war zu heiß.” It was too hot. “Tut mir leid.” It does me wrong; also known as sorry. “Well, I expect that next time you’re too hot, you bring a little pocket fan. I won’t accept you coming in dressed like this again. Now go sit down.” Kim passed Alexandra’s desk on the way and grabbed her hand in triumph. All the boys were still staring, and many of them remained staring at her throughout the rest of the class. When the final bell rang, Kim was out of her desk and out of the room as quick as she could make it. Alexandra sauntered out after her. “I feel like a bloody slut, Alix.” “You are a bloody slut.” “Why don’t you parade around school like this, then?” “I’m a subtler slut.” “Of course y’ are. Now you owe me a band.” “Granted. We’ll start our search for musicians this weekend.” “And no boys.” “Awright, no boys.” “I hate ‘em all, y’know.” “You don’t hate ‘em all, Kim. No one can hate ‘em all. Even lezzies have their token boys.” “Did ya’ know Marcus accused me of being a lezzie today?” “That’s unfair! Just ‘cause you haven’t gone out with anything with a prick for four years doesn’t mean you’re a full-out lezzie!” “You’re so kind.” “Admit it, you want to experiment with it.” “Depending on who with.” “Hmm, how about Alison Darcy?” “Too blonde.” “Vanessa Wright?” “She has no tits. C’mon, I have more self respect than that!” “Hmm. I know. How ‘bout Gwen Tolden?” Kimberly looked at Alix for a while. “Well...” Gwen Tolden was one of those goth girls that anyone would fuck, be they guy, girl, straight, or gay. Her black hair always looked like it was just a little wet, and it hung around her face with a mystique that only a goth could attain. Her eyes were lined with thick charcoal, making her irises look almost as black. Her skin was naturally pale--almost too pale--and her face seemed to be made out of cold marble. High cheekbones, full lips, small nose. She had a body straight out of the Victorian times; a perfect hourglass figure, accentuated nicely by the black leather corset she wore at least twice a week; the school administration had given up on trying to tell her she couldn’t wear it over her school attire, because she didn’t listen to them. “I guess I’d think about it.” “Oh, c’mon, she’s a hot one. You’ve gotta’ admit that.” “No bloody doubt.” “I heard she’s looking.” “For what?” “For a girl, asswipe!” With wide eyes, Kimberly shook her head quickly. “I’m not gettin’ into that shit!” “Hey, you said you’d think about it.” “Look, if you want to know there’s a girl goin’ with Gwen, you do it.” “You hate guys anyway.” “I wouldn’t know what to do with a girl.” “You can always learn.” “You’re scaring me, Alix.” She started heading for the door, ready to go home to the place of silent hostilities; it was better than having the entire world assume she was some bloody lezzie. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of bein’ called a lezzie?” “No, I’m not. I just don’t want to know right now if I am or not. I’m young.” “We’re both young.” “Well, why does everyone want so badly to prove I’m a lezzie?” “It’s not a shame or anything.” “Well, do you swing that way?” “Sometimes.” Kim stopped walking. “You never told me that before!” “I never felt like it.” “I thought best friends bloody well told all.” “Well, now I’ve told all.” “Fine. I’m going home. We’re hitting the clubs this weekend. I will have a band before the school year’s out.” “Very well, Kimmy-dear. See you tomorrow.” Alix walked down the hall, in the opposite direction from the door. Kim didn’t want to know what Alix was doing, so she just pushed it out of her mind and headed home. |
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