Labels Were Our Friends

“Frank!”

“Frank!”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I gotta kill these motherfuckin’ zombies first!”

“You have an unnatural obsession with these games,” I muttered.

Faith glanced over at me with a look of irritation, and then focused her attention back to the video game with which she had become so entranced. Leaning back lazily, I yawned and watched the younger girl slay thousands of virtual zombies.

“Dead Rising is not a game,” she informed me in an uncharacteristically dismissive tone. “Life is a game. Love is a game. Dead Rising is a tool for learning important skills such as strategy and time management.”

“And zombie killing,” I added, smiling.

“And zombie killing,” she repeated, before simultaneously pressing the X and B buttons rather violently. Afterwards she quickly brought her right hand to her face and tapped her index finger against the side of her right nostril.

Faith was not a particularly pretty girl. She had shoulder-length, frizzy, mahogany hair and pasty, acne-ridden skin. Her facial features were plain at best. Not to mention, she played video games and knew how to shoot a rifle. Yet when she was in the zone, she was like a Valkyrie or Xena, warrior princess.

“Are we going to Jericho?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed, tapped the side of her nose, and saved her game. “Just give me a second to get ready.”

Closing down the Xbox, she tossed her controller on the couch. After waiting about five or ten minutes, impatiently for Faith to come back down, I yawned and wandered to the bathroom to fix my hair. Looking in the mirror, I took a good hard look at myself.

It was Monday, March 5th, and today, I was going to see Megan for the first time since January. So, it was understandable that I wanted to look good. This morning I didn’t put my hair up in its usual “cheerleader” style so my almost platinum blonde hair parted in the middle and cascaded down to my shoulders. Wetting my lips, I attempted to make them look a little bit sexier without applying more lip-gloss. Hearing Faith clamber down the stairs, I hurriedly left the bathroom to see my young friend.

“Oh, Faith, you look gorgeous,” I gasped.

An awkwardly surprised expression appeared on the redhead’s face. Her lip curled into a crooked grin. My words were true. In less than fifteen minutes, the gawky, frizzy-haired tomboy had turned into a red-hot bombshell. Her green eyes were perfectly lined and her hair was void of any frizz. It was pulled back into a cute ponytail with her bangs swept to the over her eyes. Even her shirt surprised me. I never recognized that she had such a nice figure. It made my jaw drop, and I couldn’t help but wonder if her reason for looking so good could be for the same reason I did.

“What’s this about?” I grinned.

Looking around to make sure that her crazy aunt wasn’t near us, Faith grabbed my arm and hurried me out the door. Standing on the tall end of the height spectrum around five-nine, the redhead had little trouble getting little five-foot-four me to go where she wanted me to go.

“I’ll tell you in the car,” she hissed. She tapped her nose again with her free hand as she dragged me down the driveway. Since I could drive, but didn’t have a car, Faith, who rode my bus, had agreed to let me drive her older brother’s old car because she didn’t have her license yet. We both got into our separate sides, and I began to back the car out of her driveway.

“So who are you looking all pretty for?” I asked as we left her neighborhood.

“I never said it was a who,” she implied, tapping the front of her nose. She then looked out the window with abnormally unearthly poise.

“You’re just looking pretty for Jericho?” I remarked, skeptically.

She looked over at me with her eyebrows raised and discreetly changed the subject, “So how are you and Joey?”

“Over,” I muttered, insinuating that I did not wish to press the subject.

Nodding, Faith looked back out the window.

“You’re not into Joey, are you?”

“No, no,” she dismissed the bizarre idea. “No, Joey is cute, but he’s hardly my type.”

For some reason that struck me as funny. I wasn’t sure why, exactly. Maybe it was just the idea of Faith rejecting anybody because he wasn’t her “type.”

“You have a type?” I laughed. “What? Women?”

“Yes I have a type!” she countered. “And no, as surprising as this is to you, I’m attracted to men.”

“Oh yeah,” I grinned. “I forgot you were Catholic.”

“Actually, I don’t have the slightest problem with that,” she said simply.

“With what?” I asked.

Faith shrugged. “Lesbianism. Women with women. Basically the whole homosexuality in general,” she frowned. “I don’t have a problem with it. A lot of people figure I do because I’m Christian, but I don’t. You love who you love. I have more of a problem with men and women getting married and then divorcing two years later than I do with same sex couples marrying and actually keeping that vow sacred. It’s death ‘till us part, not until it’s not convenient any more.”

Glancing over at her, I smiled. Though she didn’t know it, Faith’s words were exactly what I’d needed to hear.

“So who are you all dressed up for?” Faith asked, tapping her nose. “Are you trying to show Joe what he’s missin’ out on? Or are you dressed up for a new boy?”

I laughed at the irony of that statement, before wagging my finger at her and telling her, “Nuh-uh, cupcake, if you want to know that, you have to tell me why you completely revolutionized yourself. I would tell you, but I asked first.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I should bother to tell you. It’s not like he’s going to even notice.”

“Believe me, honey,” I assured her, “people who don’t even know your name will notice you tonight.”

Bashfully, she tucked her bangs behind her ear and tapped her nose. “Thanks,” she smiled, timidly. “But he won’t. He’ll just be all-” she lowered her voice to an exaggerated man voice “-‘Nice shirt Red. I really like the whole sexy look you got goin’ on tonight, Stretch.’”

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed, recognizing her imitation. “You like Alec Keeler! Don’t deny it, he’s the only guy who calls you Red and Stretch. By the way, his voice is nowhere near that low. Your voice is deeper than his.”

Her cheeks turned as red as her blazing hair and her hand tensed restraining a compulsion. “I knew I shouldn’t have said Stretch,” she commented. “And it’s not like he has a girl voice. I’m amazed you never caught on to that, though.”

“He’s a little old for you,” I muttered. “Isn’t he? You -what- aren’t even fifteen yet. He’s going to be eighteen in September.”

“November,” she corrected matter-of-factly. “And I’m aware of that. Still, I fell head over heels for him. Like one day he just wasn’t Alec Keeler, Casey’s stupid friend who I’ve known forever, anymore he was Alec Keeler, the boy of my dreams.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” I whispered. Then we both sighed in unison, and I couldn’t help but burst with laughter at this very un-Faith-like behavior.

“What!” she protested, before tapping her nose twice and asking me, “What’s so damn funny?”

“Just you don’t act like this,” I sighed. “You’re never sentimental or even nice to most people. It is like my little sister’s all grown up.”

“Ahh, shut up!” she snapped and punched my shoulder.

x.o

The doors to the community center where Jericho was held were rather ominous on this particular Monday. Of course Faith danced in and I had to follow her. As I entered the gym, I saw Joey waiting in our usual corner chatting with Iris. Once I realized that Megs wasn’t here yet, I quickly crossed over to them ignoring that hardhearted look in Iris’s eyes.

It irritated me that she didn’t like me because I was, had been with a boy who she had rejected. I hated it when girls did shit like that. It was rude and catty. Speaking of catty, I noticed Faith sitting at a table with a bunch of other underclassmen including Maria Kelly, Lyle Christophers, and Louisa Lovewell. For such a witty, intelligent girl, she had the worst friends. Then again, other than me, Faith wasn’t as attached to her Jericho friends in the “real world”.

“Hey, Becks,” Joey greeted me once I got to our corner.

“Joey, Iris,” I smiled. “So is Megan here?”

“No, she’s going to be running late,” Iris answered disdainfully. There was almost a sneer in her tone. This little attitude she was giving was really starting to annoy me. Of course Joey, who thought that Iris was the sun and that all things revolved around her, was consciously overlooking the fact that his best friend and the light of his life obviously weren’t fond of each other.

“Oh really?” I replied, dryly. “Why?”

“She’s not feeling well,” Iris informed me. “She may not come at all.”

“Oh, well, I was hoping to talk to her,” I smiled. But on the inside, I wanted to grab her by the hair and yell, ‘What the hell’s your fucking problem?’

“Yeah,” Joey nodded. “I was just telling Iris that we broke up.”

“Oh, well we’re better off as friends,” I added, trying to make this moment less awkward.

“I know.” Iris sneered, not even bothering to mask it behind an obviously fake smile.

Honestly I think I would’ve strangled her had from behind me somebody not covered my mouth and grabbed my arms. Though Iris looked hardly amused, a small smile formed on Joey’s lips at me being taken captive.

“I’m taking her prisoner,” a familiar voice pretended to threaten Joey and Iris. “Don’t anybody move or you’ll never see your precious Becky again.”

“Hey Faith,” Joey’s chipper voice greeted her, visibly relieved to have someone break the heated tension between Iris and me.

“You’re no fun Matthews,” Faith fake-whined. “Why doncha ever play along?”

At that, the redhead released me and raised her hand to her face to tap her nose, but instead awkwardly wrapped her hand around mouth and chin giving her a somewhat pensive look.

“Idiot,” I muttered, pushing the younger girl playfully, who just grinned at me smugly.

“You’re looking good, Red,” Joey commented casually. “What did you take advantage of the make-up women in J.C. Penny’s again?”

With a goofy-ass look on her face, Faith stuck her tongue out at him. “Is there something wrong with me trying to look nice?” she asked in a harmless voice. I noticed her fingers clench as if she were restraining a nervous habit.

“Not in the slightest,” he replied, with smirk.

“Joey, you have to be the most flirty shy person I know,” I groaned.

Iris’s lips twitched down into a frown. “Joey can I talk to you?” she asked innocently before adding sultrily, “In private.”

With a puzzled look, Joey nodded and they left.

“That girl is a bitch,” Faith frowned as soon as they were out of earshot. “She pisses me off like crazy.”

I laughed, “Well, I think some of that is my fault. She was rather nice when I met her.”

“No, I’ve seen her around since before Seattle,” Faith muttered. “She liked to pretend she was all nice and sweet, but she isn’t. But then again, I have amazing insight.”

“Uh, huh,” I nodded, skeptically.

Crossing her arms, Faith tapped the side of her nose and smirked. “I know your little secret, Rebecca.”

“As I know that you have a weird compulsion to touch your nose whenever you say something,” I countered, not exactly sure to which of the many secrets she knew about me she was referring.

“I did it again, didn’t I?” she frowned, crinkling her nose.

Taking a seat at a table near us, I smiled sweetly. “Honey, you’ve been doing it all day.”

“Are you kidding me?” she groaned and sat down across from me. “God, this ‘quirk’ is going to be the death of me.”

“So what secret of mine does your great insight give you knowledge of?” I asked in a low voice.

“That you and I both got dressed up for Jericho because there’s somebody who we were hoping to see here,” Faith observed. “And that both of them haven’t arrived yet.”

The color drained from my face, and the corner of my lip twitched as I stared at those pale blue eyes. My heart began to beat at a lesser pace. Faith couldn’t possibly know I had feelings for Megan still I couldn’t help but inwardly freak out.

“Who do you think I’m dressed up for?” I asked coolly, trying my best not to let my emotion of panic cross my face.

“Megan Wendt,” she mouthed, so quietly I almost didn’t hear the words on her lips.

And I wished I hadn’t. Because at the nymph’s name, my slowed heart rate amplified to where I could feel it pounding in my chest, pumping red blood through my body at an alarming speed of seventy miles per hour. Cardiac arrest seemed exceedingly possible as I blinked and tapped the side of my nose.

“Not funny,” Faith murmured.

“I hate you,” I hissed.

A dark-red eyebrow rose at that. “So you do have feelings for Megan?”

Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and found myself nodding. Even with my eyes shut, I could feel a self-satisfied smirk burning on Faith’s lips.

“How did you know?” I inquired calmly.

“A couple years back, I was abducted by aliens and they told me that one day I’d meet a Becky Johnson who would be what they called a ‘lauf-kan-ot-ka’ one who was sexually attracted to other women by the name of Megan.”

“How did you know?” I repeated, firmly.

“I have ESP.”

“Faith!” I barked. “Stop being cute.”

There was the quiet sound of Faith sighing. “Megan was my roommate in Seattle,” she explained. “She’s not really secretive about her sexuality, and every time, she came into the room you were all she talked about. Then you never took your eyes off of her on the way home. Plus as I said, amazing insight.”

Exhaling, I licked my lips and brought my hands to my forehead.

“You know what I said in the car I meant it, Becky. I don’t think of you any differently, and I promise I won’t be any nicer to you out fear of committing a hate crime.”

My eyes opened and a small smile formed on my lips. “I swear Faith, if you were a woman, I’d marry you in a heartbeat in one of the states that allow that sort of thing.”

“Oh, ha ha!” Faith laughed sarcastically. “Because I’m actually a man. How original.”

If I close my eyes, I can still hear myself chuckling. I can see Faith tossing her red bangs out of her eyes. But in my recollection of my own life story, that day will always be remembered for the incident to come after this seemingly lighthearted moment.

“Somebody help me!” a frightened voice shrieked. Every head turned to look as the door to our sanctuary flew open and the figure of a beautiful brunette fell in to the building staring paralyzed with terror at a person standing on the other side of the door that had swung back to hide her assailant.

Before I even consciously realized that the girl was Megan, I was already across the room. Kneeling down next to her, I gently held her hand in mine. Others crowded around us but her terrified face was all I could see. Her normally lovely brown hair was sweaty and stringy, hanging in her face. Her chocolate eyes were the size of golf-balls and the liner around them was smudged. Yet as her panicked breathing slowed, she looked like an angel fallen to Earth. A gentle smile appeared on her lips upon recognizing me and I had to return it. I became quite aware of her delicate hand in mine as she brought her other to caress my face.

“Becky,” she choked out. “Don’t, don’t ever, ever tell, anyone.”

As my mind came to a stop, I tried to figure out what she meant, but as she withdrew her hand from mine, Megan let out one last gasp and collapsed on the ground. Her graceful hand slid out from my grasp and fell on the floor like Snow White had after eating a poison apple.

x.o

I know that first bit seems a little superfluous or unnecessary, but I assure you, Faith will be emerging as a significant character so I found it important to properly introduce her. Yes, she plays Dead Rising, which has to be the most addicting video game ever.

I had to stick in that little cliffhanger, just because the chapter didn’t flow right without it. In my original notes, Becky chases the attacker down the street and he disappears, but I’m very, very bad with chase scenes. Instead I decided to put in a little bit more tender moment. It still ends in the same place, though.