Labels Were Our Friends

Labels Were Our Friends
by jericho
x.o
Labels are everywhere in high school. Prep, emo, jock, stoner, vixen, scene, nerd, goth, freaks, or punk, just pick your favorite. Most people claim to hate them. Nobody wants to be stereotyped. All emos are self-carving posers, and all male jocks are cool, over-sexed, secret closet-mongers. All preps are anorexic, stuffy, rich girls. All stoners are classic-rock-listening, rebels heading nowhere. You have to learn to live with them.

It was my junior year of high school and I was a female jock. All female jocks are 'roid-raging lesbians. I am proud to say I've never had used steroids in my life, and before this point, I was never a lesbian. But everything about me screamed jock. I was five foot four with bright blonde hair. I had a cheery, round face, a great body, and strong legs. I played lacrosse for Bellingham High School and spent all my time either working out or chatting with Joey about whatever.

It was six in the evening on a Friday in January, and I was standing with Joseph Matthews, a senior on the Sehome High soccer team. It was back when I was still living in Bellingham, Washington. We were waiting for the bus to Seattle. It was the annual Children Of Jericho trip. Children of Jericho was a small youth group for children and teenagers from broken families. It wasn't really for any kid with divorced parents, but kids who had suicidal parents or fathers in jail or orphans living with their aunts and uncles. For me, it was kid whose mother got a restraining order on her psychotic, druggie of a husband. Children of Jericho wasn't really one of those country-wide things like YMCA or Girl Scouts. It was just one-hundred and fifty of us at a community center downtown. It was mostly Christian kids, but several were apathetic like Joey and I were. You really didn't blame us for being apathetic. Some of these kids had gone through worse than I had. The whole reason Joe was even in Bellingham was because when he lived in Austin, Texas, he hid under a bed while his mother's ex-boyfriend raped and almost murdered his mother. Oddly enough, Joey seemed to be a rather well-adjusted, functioning member of society. The only times he was even remotely dark was during share time at Jericho. That's how I knew Joe. We both went on Friday and played soccer there from six to nine.

"Who is that sexy, little emo chick?"

Please Joseph, she was obviously a scene. Get your labels right.

I had to admit the girl was cute. She had dark reddish-brown hair and a thin, pale face. Over her chocolate eyes, she wore the standard "emo-kid", black-rimmed glasses. The girl was almost anorexic skinny, and to make her look even thinner, she wore skin-tight clothes. There was something oddly familiar about her.

"Holy shnaps!" she shouted as she laid those chocolate brown eyes on me. "Becky!"

Then suddenly, there was this ninety pound, five-foot-two girl hugging the living crap out of me. After nearly strangling me, she pulled away and looked me in the eye. There was a beautiful, giant smile on her face and stars in her eyes.

"You don't remember me do you?" she laughed. It was like an angel singing.

"I'm sorry, no I don't," I admitted bashfully.

"Megan Wendt!" she exclaimed.

Then I suddenly thousands of memories flowed back to me. I had no idea how I could forget her. Meg had been my best friend through out elementary school and most of middle school. In eighth grade, her mother overdosed on painkillers. She didn't die, but Megan couldn't live with her any more. So she went to live with her dad in Chicago. I had missed her so much the first couple of months, but as time went by, I began to forget about her. Not entirely forgot, but her memory shifted to the back of my mind to the point that I didn't even recognize her. To my defense, there wasn't much to recognize. In middle school she had been your average trendy-wendy. Now she had a definate label to her.

"I just got back last month," she grinned. "I'm amazed I haven't seen you at church."
With an embarrassed look, I smiled, "Oh I don't really do church anymore. When my parents split, Dad took religion and Mom took me."

Yes, even chain-smoking druggies have religions.

Megan blinked and a rose-colored tint came to her face. "Jeff and Darlene split, huh?"

"Eh, it's better this way. More presents at Christmas." That wasn't the reason it was better this way, but I would've made her feel bad if I told her the real reason. Any way, she probably figured it was something terrible otherwise I wouldn't be going on a Children of Jericho field-trip.

Feeling left out, like he always did if somebody neglected to speak to him for five seconds, Joey nudged my shoulder.

"Oh Meg, this is Joey Matthews," I told her in a chipper voice. "Joey, this is Megan Wendt."

"Pleased to meet you," Joey grinned with a nod. I could tell that already in his head were fifteen billion and thirty-two ways to win Meg's heart. They'd make an odd couple: tall, muscular Joe and skinny, beautiful Megan. Then mentally, I began to panic. Had I just thought Megan beautiful? Sure, she'd grown over the years, and yes, I understood why Joey would lust after her, but did I seriously think she was beautiful?

Was that normal?

"Hey Megs," a shy voice called.

Megan and I looked to see a tall girl with wavy, honey blonde hair. Immediately, Megan let out a yelp and ran to hug her with the intensity she had just done to me. A deep embarrassment swept over me as I realized that she reacted the same way to everybody and I was nobody special. The girl was one of those people who could be pretty but was too afraid to let guys notice her, and that's what made her gorgeous. Standing at five nine, about the same height as Joe, she could be a giant, but instead bashfully kept her head low and looked gawky which just added to her cuteness.

See I was thinking of this girl as cute. It's just normal evaluation of the people around me. Joe, himself, was rather good-looking. He had dazzling, clear greenish-blue eyes and flippy, dark brown hair. It didn't mean I was attracted to him. Yet, I didn't feel a small envy when Joe went talking to other girls like I did as Megan embraced the blonde girl. Stop it, Becks, it's just because you haven't seen your old best friend in awhile. Still I wondered about the intensity of their relationship as Megan brought the girl toward us. It was odd how this Amazon woman was being lead by spazzy little Meg, like a child showing her weary mother something that was "super cool." The girl was obviously uncomfortable about coming over. Her breath was bated the entire time.

"Hi, Iris," Joey grinned.

"Hey Joe," the girl replied. Even her voice was quiet and shy. "How have you been?"

"I'm fi- I'm good, good," Joey stuttered breathlessly. His mouth opened to say something else, but he apparently changed his mind and turned to me. "Becky this is Iris Malone. We both go on Mondays. Iris, I would like you to finally meet the unsinkable Becky Johnson."

"Joe has only the funniest stories about you," she chimed in a sweet voice.

I cleared my throat. Knowing Joey, she probably had heard of the time that I ran into the men's room and didn't realize it until I came out of the stall and saw Joe at the urinal. Quickly diverting my thoughts from that incredibly embarrassing moment for both of us, I changed the subject back to Megan and Iris. "So how do you two know each other?"

"School," Megan answered for Iris. "We're both in French II."
I could see four-time German student Joey's eyes roll. I giggled a bit at his quirk. As a generic Spanish student, I wouldn't have the same mock-"predjudice" against French kids. Apparently Megan noticed and was about to come back when the bus rolled up to the stop and the other kids began to pile in.

"We should go," Iris spoke up to nobody in particular.

x.o.

"You know what this song reminds me of?" Megan asked me.

"No idea," I laughed.

It was an hour into the trip, and we were listening to Slide by Goo Goo Dolls on Megan's iPod, which was apparently named Clarence. Megan had the aisle seat and across from us was Joey and Iris who were laughing about something.

"That dance at the end of seventh grade," she replied dreamily, "Darren Metcalf asked me to dance during this song. Of course he only did to make Laurie Sykes jealous, but still, at the moment, it was the most romantic points of my life."

"You were thirteen, of course it was the most romantic moment." I shook my head. "Everything's romantic at thirteen."

"Remember the time we showed up at Milo Isaaks house in eighth grade and his mom nearly through a fit!"

Suddenly, I bent over in laughter at the memory of poor Mrs. Isaaks shocked face as we asked if her son was home. The song switched to Iris and my mind went to less pleasant thoughts as Megan tapped her friend on the shoulder.

"Hey Rissy, it's your song!" she told the blonde girl, who giggled in embarrassment and turned back to Joseph.

"So how well do you know Iris?" I asked, trying to be as casual as possible once Megan turned back to me.

She blinked and shrugged. "Pretty damn well, I suppose. She's a sweetheart. I had this girlfriend back in Chicago who was a lot like her."

"Girlfriend?" I repeated, stunned.

Megan's expression went rigid and her cheeks turned bright red as if her grandmother had caught her having sex with her cousin on the couch.

"Not like that!" she sputtered and let out a laugh that sounded almost forced. "In Chicago, that term was always, for the most part, an acceptable term thing for a female friend, person. I forgot back here it meant lover."

"Oh." I replied and tried to smile at the misunderstanding.

"As if I actually swung that way!" Megan added in an awkwardly too-loud voice that got the attention of the girls sitting in front of us. Embarrassed beyond belief, Meg snatched the headphone out of my ear and put it in hers.

For the rest of the trip, Megan didn't really talk. She was texting somebody, and paid little attention to anybody else. It kind of pissed me off a bit. I wasn't really mad at her as I was at myself. After not seeing her in years, I managed to offend one of my oldest friends. Firstly, I had believed her to be homosexual which for most people would be a huge offense. Especially with our history, I think there would've been something that would've hinted she might actually be gay. Then again, when she left she had just gone through a very traumatic life-experience. What if in Chicago, she had done some extensive soul searching and realized that she was in fact a lesbian. I reminded myself that it was a huge if, but even if she was gay, I made her feel uncomfortable. She had been my best friend for such a long time, now she probably thought that I was one of those homophobic people who would actually stop being friends with somebody just because of their sexual orientation.

x.o

We arrived at the hotel and Annie the adult leader lady gave us room assignments. We were in alphabetical order. I was in room 412 with Maria Kelly, Louisa Lovewell, and Iris Malone. In the room right next door was Kenny Luciano, Joseph Matthews, Darren McFarland, and Sean Narmer. Unfortunately Megan was at the far end of the hall. Even worse, immediately after arrival, she headed to her room without saying a single word to any of us.

"Why was she so mad?" Iris asked, once we were upstairs and unpacking.

Just her and I were in the room. Louisa and Maria were down in the lobby chatting with Darren and Lyle Christophers. Maria, Louisa, and Lyle went to Bellingham with me. Darren went to Sehome and played on the soccer team with Joe. Louisa and Darren were had been on-and-off since first grade when Darren picked her a flower and then later the exact same day stole her 96-count box crayons. It was also no secret that Maria had her heart set on being Mrs. Lyle Chrstophers since she first met him last year. As petty and annoying as Maria and Louisa were, I understood them. However, I did not understand Iris, and that made me wary of the Amazon girl.

"Oh just a stupid reason," I muttered.

I really did not wanting to talk about it with Iris, but she apparently didn't get the vibe or ignored it all together.

"Did somebody make fun of her shoes?"

Chuckling at the seriousness of Iris's voice as she asked this, I shook my head no. "I did something stupid. I made a comment and apparently it pissed her off."

"Oh." Iris frowned and walked to the mirror to brush her hair. "What did you say?"

"We were talking about you actually," I admitted. "She said that you reminded her of a girlfriend she had in Chicago, and I automatically and stupidly thought she meant, like romantic lover. Of course, she denied it and now I think she's mad at me."

As I finished this, I heard the clatter of Iris's brush hitting the ground. I turned to see her try to put on a straight face and pick it up.

"Are you okay?" I asked cautiously.

The blonde smiled forcefully and spoke in a frenzied, panicky tone. "Oh, I'm, I'm just fine, fine, fine. Dandy even."

This odd behavior was beginning to greatly vex me. I could tell from Iris's face she wasn't good at poker. She was obviously one of those people who couldn't lie to save their life. She knew it too. There was a secret that she was keeping, and she knew damn well that she was going to spill it.
Crossing my arms, I looked Iris straight in her eyes. "Is there something I should know?"

"No," she lied. Her face was cherry red by this point and I could see sweat begin to form on her forehead. I stared into her eyes until she finally broke down and flung herself on the nearest bed, exclaiming, "Okay! You win!"

I sat down next to her patted her head. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone you told me."

The girl sat up and looked at her feet. "Megan, she's," she started and thought of how to put her answer. Even though we both knew what she was going to say. My longest and dearest friend batted for the other team. Iris's statement would only be confirming it. In fact, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to hear this girl, this outsider, tell me my best friend's deepest, darkest secret. Then it struck me, Iris wasn't the outsider; I was. Megan didn't trust Iris more. She just loved Iris more. How I couldn't have seen it earlier was beyond me. There was no place for "homophobic" Becky in Megan's life. Sighing, I looked to the wall away from Iris, away from my greatest fear.

"You don't have to tell me," I whispered. "I already know everything I need to know, and now, she probably thinks I think she's a circus freak. How could I be so stupid?"

I looked back to see Iris shaking as she cried. It wasn't a loud obnoxious sob, but silent tears running down her cheeks as she choked, "I'm sorry I'm such a bad liar." Suddenly I hated being so rude to this girl. It must be so hard for her living in a world where she wasn't accepted because of who she loved. She wiped the tears from her red eyes and let out a small laugh. "If it makes you feel better, she's going to hate me more for telling you."

"How about we agree that we're both fucked?" I smiled weakly, patting her on the shoulder.

Iris and I talked for over three hours before Louisa and Maria came back upstairs at ten fourty two. We tried to steer away from the topic of Megan, and instead talked about more pleasant things like movies, and Joe, and the bands we liked. Once Maria and Louisa showed up, Iris decided it was time for bed. I knew Annie said we weren't supposed to be out of our rooms past eleven, and most people were heading back to there rooms, but I headed down the hallway to Room 422 and knocked on the door.

A freshman named Faith Yarnell opened the door. "Heya Becks," she greeted me sweetly. Her hair was wet from swimming in the outdoor pool.

"Hey, is Megan in there?" I asked quietly.

"No, she's downstairs in the lobby I think. We left down to go to about two hours ago. About thirty minutes ago, we decided to come back upstairs, but Meg decided she wasn't ready. She hasn't come back up since."

I thanked her as I left for the elevator and headed down to the lobby. Sure enough Megan was sitting on a sofa in tight jeans and a brown hoodie, looking rather out of it. Her auburn hair was still wet from being in the pool.

"Megs?" I called out.

Her head perked up, and a sweet smile came on her face. "Becks! How are you?"

"Good." I walked over to the sofa and whispered in her ear, "We need to talk by the pool."

Reluctantly, she nodded and we walked outside to the deserted pool area. Walking to the pool's edge, Megan took off her hoodie and her jeans to reveal a baby blue bikini that fit her body perfectly. For a short, skinny girl, she had a great figure. Unlike most girls of her stature, Meg had pretty large breasts and good hips. She had these gazelle-like legs that walked with the utmost grace to the deep end of the pool. Her pale skin glowed in the lamp light as she dived into the water. Emerging from the water, she turned to face me.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" she asked, breaking me out of my trance.
I walked toward the pool and sat down to where she was swimming. "Listen, I'm sorry about what I said on the bus. Please don't be mad, but I talked with Iris, and I want you to know, I don't think of you any differently."

There was a silence. I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad silence because of Megan's completely unreadable expression. Finally she sighed. "You really don't think of me any differently?"

"Of course not," I replied with a smile. "I figure half my chick friends are gay any way. You know the whole chick jock stereotype."

Megan laughed and swam to the opposite side of the pool. "Come on in," she beckoned. "The waters warm compared to the air."

"I don't have a swim suit," I admitted bashfully.

She shook her head. "Just go in your underwear!" she teased. "I promise not to oggle you."

Rolling my eyes, I removed my Bellingham Lacrosse T-shirt and my frayed at the bottom jeans, leaving me in only a red bra and panties. Yet I felt naked. It was like I was exposing myself to Megan, but not like she was looking at my breasts or anything. Like she was looking at my slightly too-large thighs or jpw I didn't have perfect curves like she did.

Like I was standing naked in front of the hottest guy in school and I was scared to death, he didn't approve.

"Well are you just going to wait there for Annie to see you streaking or are you going to get in?"

Slowly, I slipped into the water and swam over to Megan. Even with her not-water-proofed eyeliner blurred, she looked positively beautiful in the moonlight.

For the first time since my parents divorce, I was scared to death. Here I stood, well floated, in front of my oldest friend and I found myself thinking of her like I would a cute guy. It didn't help that I had just found out she was a lesbian and that she had to be the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. I knew I wasn't that way. But at the same time, I couldn't notice how as she swam over to the other side, she looked like a natural dolphin, and as she emerged from the water, she looked like a picture-perfect model. I also couldn't help but notice how awkward and pathetic all my movements were in comparison to hers.

As I reached her on the other side of the pool, she smiled and looked up at the moon. "I can't begin to tell you how relieved I am that you're okay with this. That was all I could think about on the bus. Would I have to keep this a secret from my dearest friend."
My cheeks turned a slight rose-color as she said this. "It's getting late," I frowned. "We should go in."

A witchy smile came to Megan's face. "Race you to the ladder?" she offered.

I was never one to resist a challenge. We both submerged and bolted to the nearest ladder. As we neared it, she had a slight edge on me so I reached out to grab her arm and pull her back, but my hand found something rather more squishy. Then I did something stupid as I realized I was cupping her breast. I gasped under-water. We both surfaced immediately. My face was as red as the bra I was wearing and I was coughing from all the water I inhaled. Megan's face was about as red as mine, but she instead was laughing as she grabbed the ladder and climbed out of the pool.

"Did you like what you felt?" she teased and extended an arm to me. Still coughing, I took it and climbed out of the water myself. She rung her hair out and dried off with a towel before tossing me one as well. "Now, you do realize I get to feel yours too?"

"Please Megan," I retorted. "I'm trying not to choke to death, here."

"Whatever, Cups." A smug smirk came to her face as she redressed into the hoodie and jeans. "See you upstairs!" and with that the elusive goddess slipped back into the hotel leaving me drying myself off. Despite my joking, I was still just as scared as before, and even more now. Because I wanted to do it again.

x.o

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed my drabble. It will get more steamier I promise. Sorry it moved a little too fast. It gets much better in later chapters if you'll just bare with me for this.