Becky Loves Christie

Becky sat on the cracked red plastic of the coffee
shop’s last booth and glumly stared into her cup. Her
whole life seemed, at that moment, to stretch out as an
unending source of boredom. Two weeks out of High
School, two weeks for the excitement of graduation to
wear off, and she had to face the reality that High
School was going to be the absolute best time of her
life. It made her want to cry.

“Damn it! It wasn’t even that good!” She told the salt
and pepper shakers, “I don’t want that to be the best
there is.” Angry tears, the same angry tears she’d been
fighting for days, welled up and threatened to drop.
One day she’d let them fall. She hadn’t already because
she’d a good idea it wouldn’t help.

And on top of everything else, she hadn’t gotten that
lousy job she’d applied for. Becky suspected that it
was because she was black. The successful applicant had
been a pretty young white girl. Life just sucked so

Suddenly a voice intruded into Becky’s misery.

“Um, Hi, Becky.” It was Christie, The Most Popular Girl
in the School. The Head Cheerleader. The Homecoming
Queen. The Prom Queen. Becky had always been torn
between hating Christie’s guts and envying her
everything. “Hi, Christie.” What does she want? Becky

“Can I, uh, can I join you?” Christie was nervous about
something, it was plain from the hesitancy and the way
she shifted from one foot to another. Her big,
cornflower colored eyes stared anxiously into Becky’s.

Intrigued, Becky nodded and motioned to the bench
opposite. “Go ahead.”

Christie slid into the booth and smiled brilliantly at
Becky. “Thanks. So what have you been doing since

Becky knew she was staring, knew she should stop, but
it was so strange to have Christie even talking to her,
let alone making conversation. At school Christie was
the center of the in-crowd, and they almost never mixed
with the black kids.

“Nothing, much. I’m trying to figure out what I’m going
to do.”

Christie hesitated then looked at her hands as she
said, “I sorta thought you were going to marry Richie.”

Did she want Richie? Was that it? “No. I’m not getting
married. I don’t think I’ll ever get married.” Why did
she say that? Becky didn’t want Miss Popular knowing
she wasn’t wanted; even if she didn’t want any of the

“Really? I… Me either. I mean, it’s such a dead end,
you know?” Christie started to relax. “I didn’t want
that and it seems like everybody pushes you to do it,
all the guys, my friends, my family… I just don’t
want to. I think it’s great that you don’t want it
either. It’s like a validation of what I’m feeling,

“You don’t need validation from me!” Becky snapped. It
made her angry, whatever little game Christie was
playing was not something she wanted any part of. She
looked around for the rest of Christie crowd, wondering
when the laughter would start, wondering what the joke

“I know.” Christie nodded, “But I really like having
it. You’re always so together, so self-contained. I
really envy that. I’ve always felt like I had to
perform for people, like I was always on. I can’t tell
you how often I wanted to flip them all off. I used to
notice the books you read and I’d go check them out of
the library and, you know, they were almost always
things I enjoyed. I usually wanted to be reading your
books when I was supposed to be doing committee things.
I..” Christie looked at her hands and her words came
out in a rush, “I’ve always admired you. I wish we
could be friends.”

Becky’s mouth hung open in shock. “What?”

Christie smiled. “I know what you’re thinking. I know
why you always looked at me like I was after something
when I said Hi to you. I didn’t really approach you in
school because it would’ve made life Hell for both of
us, but I always wanted to. Now that we’re out of
school, though, we can do anything we want. What I want
is to be your friend.”

Becky swallowed at the obvious sincerity in Christie’s
voice. “Oh.”

Christie’s smile laughed at her, just a little. “Yeah.

“Well,” Becky, hesitated, then cast caution to the
winds. “Well, I guess that would be okay.”

There was an awkward little silence and then Christie
smiled ruefully. “Would you like to come to my house?”

Christie lived in the richest side of town. It would be
something to see. “Sure.” It figured that the Prom
Queen would have a little red convertible.

Becky felt vaguely ridiculous getting into it, but the
warm summer air that blew into her face as they sped
down the street felt great and almost instantly she
started to relax. “What kind of music do you like?”
Christie motioned to the glove compartment. “See if
there’s anything in there.”

CD’s but some surprises. Christie, it seemed, liked
funk and metal in equal doses. Becky pulled out some
James Brown and Christie nodded. “Crank it up! I love
it loud.”

As they drove, Becky had a few moments of evil
satisfaction as they sped across town, the wind in
their hair and music leaving an almost visible trail
behind them. They passed several of Christie’s friends
who waved and looked surprised at who she had with her.
Christie just looked happy. Just as Becky expected,
they turned into the drive of a home that just missed
being a mansion. Christie bounded out of the car.
“C’mon, c’mon, you gotta see my CD collection. You like
J.B., you’re gonna love some of the others.”

Her good humor was infectious and Becky was smiling as
she got out of the car. “Okay.” They went inside and
Christie turned, suddenly formal.

“Do you want to see the rest of the house?” It would be
a showcase, Becky knew, in fact she was pretty sure it
had been on one of those charity home tours at one time
or another, but there was something about the way
Christie asked her.

“No.” She replied, “I’d rather listen to music.” She
was rewarded by the gratitude in Christie’s eyes and
she began to have an inkling that the Prom Queen’s life
wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“Okay. C’mon upstairs.” Christie led the way.

Her room was a little girl’s mixed with a wanna-be-wild
teen’s. Posters of leather clad rockers vied with the
pink country check and eyelet lace of the curtains and
spread. The sound system of the gods covered one wall
and another was full books and CD’s. The third wall was
closets and the fourth was the window and posters.

Becky blinked. “Wow.”

Wrinkling her nose, Christie nodded. “My mom just can’t
face the fact that I’m eighteen. I leave the cute stuff
up to make her happy.” Christie sat Becky on the bed
and put some music on, loud. “Do you want anything to

Becky shook her head. As eagerly as the child she
scorned, Christie started showing Becky her treasures.
Little things, like the handmade candles and the
perfect clamshell that had more meaning than monetary
worth. Everything Christie showed her made Becky look
at the other girl in a slightly different way. Christie
became, in the next half hour, someone Becky wanted to

Finally, Christie brought over a little wooden box.
“This is all my important jewellery.” She said.

Becky was expecting diamonds, instead there was only a
silver pendant and a little silver ring. Becky stared,
not quite able to believe her eyes. The pendant was the
double axe, the ring was two of the alchemists symbols
for Venus, entwined through the circles.

“These are me.” Christie said softly. A chill went down
her spine as Becky looked up into Christie’s blue, blue
eyes, at her golden hair, at her peach-perfect skin and
saw the unthinkable suddenly, almost, become

“Do you know what they mean?” Christie’s eyes were wide
and anxious.

“Yes…” Becky could only stare at her.

“Oh…” Christie blushed to her hairline. “I’m sorry,
you’re not into it, I guess… I…”

Becky stopped her by reaching up and cupping her face.
“It’s okay. I didn’t realize, that’s all. It’s really
okay…” Then in one, graceful move, Becky stood up and
kissed Christie.

It started out gentle, hesitant, and then abruptly
turned into mouth-grinding passion. It seemed to last
forever as they explored with lips and tongues not only
each other’s mouths but their faces, throats, ears.
Becky had never done anything so wonderful and her
excitement was tinged with a little fear, just enough
to heighten her arousal past anything she’d ever
experienced. Almost without conscious effort, her hands
were moving over Christie’s amazing body, cataloguing
by touch each curve and hollow and swell.

Christie was soft, full breasted, wide hipped. She had
a slender waist that emphasized her woman’s figure. And
under her softness was firm muscle that meant fitness
that couldn’t be faked. Becky explored with delight,
wondering what Christie thought of her own tall, lean
body with the small, firm breasts and boyish hips.

Christie’s soft, happy moans seemed to mean approval.
Christie moved away, just a little bit, and kissed
Becky sharply in a promise of more. “God, you’re
great!” She laughed happily, “This is just the way I
imagined it would be.”

Becky smiled at her, drunk on passion. “Really? You
thought about it with me?”

“Since Junior High. You look just like all my dreams.”
Christie turned and went to the door, locking it
quickly. “None of my family’s home, but the maid might
decide it’s time to vacuum.” She walked back to Becky
and started unbuttoning her new love’s blouse. “I love
your hair. I’ve never seen such beautiful hair. And
your eyes… the color of bittersweet chocolate.

The blouse was undone and Christie slid it off by
running her hands over Becky’s skin under the cloth,
over the shoulders, and down the arms. “What beautiful
skin you have. So dark and creamy, I love it.”

Becky squirmed with delight and reached for the hem of
Christie’s tank top. She peeled it off and touched
Christie’s breasts through the lacy bra. “This is so
amazing. You’re so beautiful. I feel like any minute
I’m gonna wake up. How did you know?” Christie cupped
Becky’s breasts. “I wish I didn’t have to wear a bra. I
wish mine would stand up like this.”

She rubbed over Becky’s big, hardened nipples, and
Becky moaned.

“I didn’t know, exactly, but I saw you reading ‘Lifting
Belly’ so I thought you wouldn’t hit me if I asked.”
She bent and kissed one breast, laving her tongue over
the swell, sucking lightly at the peak.

Becky reached behind her and undid the bra, letting
Christie’s full, cream colored breasts free. They were
round, already swollen with passion, the pink nipples
standing out asking for caresses. She held them,
squeezed them, loving their weight in her palms. Becky
brought Christie back up to meet another, passionate
kiss and they stayed that way awhile, the shock of hot,
bare skin against skin breathtaking.

Finally, Christie took her mouth away. “Let’s get the
rest of our clothes off, okay?” In answer Becky reached
for the blonde’s jeans and undid the top button. “One
for one?” She asked huskily. “Oh, yeah.” Christie slid
her knuckles along Becky’s flat stomach, under the
waistband of her shorts, and rubbed gently before
working the first button. “Do you wear panties?”

“Uh huh.” Becky undid the next one. “You?”

“No.” The gentle, sliding touch over her belly, down
into the open fly of her shorts was making Becky crazy.
That Christie didn’t wear anything under her jeans was
both unsurprising, for some reason, and terribly
exciting Christie moved the zipper of the shorts down,
just a little. “I don’t want to rush anything.”

Becky had gone back, momentarily, to the full breast,
bending to love them with her mouth. “Mmm.”

Christie sighed, “I really love that too.”

Becky was barely listening. She couldn’t get over how
the satiny skin seemed to be stretched to bursting
under her hands and mouth and yet it gave so easily.
She rubbed her face over Christie’s breasts like a cat,
marking her territory and learning the taste, scent and
feel of her lover at the same time. She could make love
to Christie and then never see her again and her memory
would always keep those sensations fresh. She hoped, in
one small rational part of her brain, that making love
with Christie would be a continuing pleasure, but she
wasn’t going to worry about it.

“Beck, come up here, I want to kiss you again.”
Christie brought her face up and kissed her; slowly,
hungrily, tongue taking possession again and again.
While they kissed, Becky finished undoing Christie’s
jeans and slid her hands along the moist, creamy skin
of Christie’s ass, easing the jeans down as she went.
She began kneading the firm curves with her strong
hands and Christie made a sound deep in the back of her
throat that sounded a lot like a growl.

Christie broke the kiss, finally, and gasped, “You got
ahead of me. No fair!” Her hands shook as she pulled
down the zipper of Becky’s shorts and yanked them down.

Suddenly Becky was laughing. “You’re so great! Oh God,
this is so great!”

Christie grinned at her. “Yeah, and it’s gonna get so
much better.” Christie went down to her knees and eased
the shorts off one foot and then the other. Then she
pulled Becky’s bikinis off slowly, running her tongue
down Becky’s long, brown legs just ahead of the cloth.
Once the panties were gone, she bent over and kissed
Becky’s knees, licking and sucking until Becky giggled
and danced away.

“Come back.” Christie ordered, “I want to kiss the
backs too.”

“Not until your jeans are off.” Becky came back and
pulled Christie to her feet. “Then we can get serious.”

“Do we have to?” Christie complained. “I really think
our lives are too serious already.”

“Really?” Becky felt crazy.

She felt like she could do anything that moment and
nothing would ever hurt her for it. She yanked the
jeans down and shoved Christie back on the bed. Eyelet
and pink checks bounced and Christie giggled. “Come on,
you butch thing.” Their laughter might have dampened
desire, in any other circumstance it would have; but
for them, it was a release of mistrust, that last
little bit of suspicion held against someone of such a
different background. When the giggles died they looked
at each other as equals and something new, and so
precious they wouldn’t examine it, kindled between

“You can kiss my knees now.” Becky offered generously.
Christie’s full mouth curved, almost laughing again,
and she held out her arms. The shock of their skin
coming together was like snuggling furnaces, it was
ridiculous that it should feel so good in the heat of
summer; but Becky wouldn’t have ever wanted to be
anywhere but there.

Their arms around each other, pressed together from the
collision of their noses to their entwined feet, it was
where Becky had always wanted to be from her first
glimpse of Christie six years earlier on their first
day at Johnson Jr. High. That the realization of her
fantasies was everything, more, than she’d imagined
surprised her.

They rolled as they kissed, first Christie was on top,
then Becky was. Their hands moved sensuously over
backs, sides, buttocks, thighs. Christie was on top
again and she wiggled and pulled until Becky’s knees
moved apart, cradling her between them. At that point,
Chris began kissing Becky’s throat, from up under the
dark girl’s chin, down to the collarbone. She tongued
the soft hollow there before working her way to one
shoulder. “You taste yummy.” She murmured dreamily.

Becky loved the weight, the heat of her lover. She was
breathing hard and each kiss, each lick, each little
nibbling bite, fanned her arousal hotter. “Do you know
where I’m going?” Christie asked softly as she left
Becky’s other shoulder to move to the space between the
small, sweet breasts.

“Yeah.” Becky moaned. “Hurry.”

That made Christie chuckle. “Oh, no way, Babe. It’s
gonna be so slow, you’re gonna die.” She started to
suck on one thick dark nipple and Becky shuddered at
the sudden shot of pleasure deep in her guts.

Becky ran her fingers into Christie’s silky hair,
letting the surprisingly heavy strands slide through
them like water. Along the scalp the hair was damp,
either from the heat of the day or, more probably,
Christie’s desire; but out along the ends it was cool.
Becky brought a handful up and ran it over her face.
Christie move lower, taking little licks and bites at
Becky’s firm, flat belly. She would nuzzle hard, for a
moment, then graze her lips over the skin with a barely
felt motion. Becky’s hips moved, pushing up against
Christie demandingly. Christie took her time.

The hot tickling between Becky’s legs was making her
crazy. She couldn’t get at it, Christie wasn’t getting
at it, she didn’t know what to do. She was breathing in
sharp, hard gasps and soon the gasps were interspersed
with moans. She reached back and grabbed a pillow,
crushing it to her face in an effort to hold back a
scream of frustration. Christie moved down. She began
to comb her fingers through Becky’s pubic hair, pausing
in her kisses to remark, “It’s so soft. That’s so neat.
I thought everybody’s was crinkly like mine.” She
buried her open mouth in it and blew gently.

The moist, heated air made Becky pull the pillow away.
“God, don’t tease!”

Christie sat up with a laugh. “Oh, Babe, teasing is
what it’s all about.” She ran her fingers lightly up
the insides of Becky’s thighs. “That and making sure
it’s okay in the end. Don’t you worry, I won’t let you

She shifted so that Becky’s legs were forced further
apart and she leaned on one arm, half across Becky’s
belly. Her wandering fingers trailed up and down
Becky’s thighs. She ignored the demanding movements of
Becky’s hips, her own weight holding the other girl
pretty much quiet. “You have to know,” she said softly,
her eyes on her fingers, “that doing this to you is
making me crazy too.”

“Then let me at you.” Becky demanded.

Christie looked up then. “Want to? I don’t want it over
too soon.” She warned.

“Nothing’s gonna be over, Chris.” Becky held out her
arms. “Let me show you how good I am.” Without a word,
Christie went back up into Becky’s arms.

They kissed for a while, maintaining the heat between
them but not fanning it any higher. Then Becky bit
Christie’s lower lip. “Let me up.” She said. Christie
released her and watched her climb up to her knees.
“Now,” Becky ordered “On your stomach.”

Christie giggled as she turned and looked back over her
shoulder at her lover. Becky looked at the beautiful
body before her and suddenly found it hard to breathe.
Christie’s skin was such a lovely color, all peachy
golden except where it faded to cream where the sun
never saw it.

Slowly Becky reached out and ran her index finger down
Christie’s backbone, from the nape of her neck where
the hair was thick and tawny, down to the nub of the
backbone, just inside the split of Christie’s firm,
round ass. Then she bent over and began licking and
chewing in her finger’s path, pausing here and there to

Christie squirmed sexily at a tongue sweep just under
her shoulder blades, and Becky tried it again. Same
effect. She grinned to herself, saving that information
for later. A nip at the curve of the waist brought a
sharp protest and a giggle. A lingering swab at the
hollow of the spine got a moan. Lower got even more
moans. Becky finished the trail and the scent of
Christie’s arousal was sharp in her nose.

She moved down and began a journey from the heel of
Christie’ began a journey from the heel of Christie’s
foot, up. About the time she reached the back of
Christie’s knees, her lover was quivering and the moans
were steady and steadily louder. She reached up and
began massaging the perfect cheeks, while her mouth
continued its slow journey. “Beck! Beck!” Chris begged,
“Oh, please?”

“I thought you wanted this to last?” Becky laughed

“Becky!” Christie moaned back. Becky sighed, she wasn’t
finished! But Christie was obviously at the end of her
endurance. She sat back up and gently turned Chris on
her back.

“Okay, Chris.” Becky eased Chris’s long legs apart and
spread the labia gently with the tips of her fingers.
The clitoris was swollen, standing with delicate pride
in its nest of pink flesh. Becky touched it softly and
Christie jumped as if she’d been shot. “Hurts?” Becky
whispered, in awe of its beauty.

“No. Never.” Christie gasped.

“What about this?” Becky carefully eased her middle
finger into the wet furnace of Christie’s vagina. “How
does this feel?”

“Don’t stop!” demanded the blonde. “Don’t you stop!”

“No.” Becky promised. Her finger began to move, in and
out. “I won’t.”

Christie writhed at the digit’s movements, her
breathing hard, in short, gasps. She tossed her head
from side to side and her hands crumpled the gingham
under them. Becky gently inserted her forefinger too
and Chris’s sharp cry pleased her.

Finally she bent and touched the bold little nub with
the end of her tongue. Salty, musky, sweet all in one,
Becky played with it; little tickling touches, almost
rough swathes, sucking, flicking, teasing it. She
teased it until Christie stiffened and cried out and
her rhythmically moving fingers were seized in a
pulsing vise. Becky waited until the pulsing died away
and then started in again.

“Oh, Beck! Wait. Don’t you want…” Christie’s fingers
pulled distractedly at Becky’s hair. Becky ignored
them, eagerly working for a repeat that was not long in
coming. Christie moaned and relaxed slowly as her body
recovered. With delicate care, Becky eased her fingers
out of their tight cocoon and slowly spread the
moisture covering them across her own belly, leaving a
glistening trail.

She was desperately horny at that point, quivering with
her own need, but she managed a saucy smile to answer
Christie’s dazed one. “My turn.” She whispered.

Christie held out her arms and Becky fell into them.
“You’re so amazing.” The blonde whispered. “I’ve never
felt so good before.”

“Good.” Becky replied smugly. “I don’t want you ever to
forget me.” Christie suddenly turned and Becky was on
her back.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Now I want to be
unforgettable to you.” She started with a long, lush
kiss, exploring Becky’s mouth so thoroughly Becky knew
she had no secrets there. Slowly, Christie moved away
from Becky’s mouth. “You taste of me.” Christie said
huskily, “It reminds me of what you did. I’m gonna do
that to you, but different. Just a little different.”

Becky wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was eager to
find out. She ached and each thought of what Chris was
promising sent sharp, little tickling jolts of
sensation through her belly, and down between her legs.
It was all she could do to keep from touching herself,
though the release that would give her was so good. It
was like flying, she thought, like she was soaring and
there was nothing else in the world but her body. She
knew Chris would give her that, she hoped Chris would
give her more.

Using just the barest whisper of a touch, Christie ran
the pads of her fingers along Becky’s collarbone, to
her shoulders and back. It nearly tickled, nearly
itched. She did it again, then let that spot to move to
the other side. Both hands moved, so lightly they
almost weren’t touching, over Becky’s neck and
shoulders, back and forth, in circles, triangles, other
patterns, until Becky was mad to rub the sensitized
skin. She started to move her hands and Chris shook her

“Hang on to the spread if you have to, but don’t
touch.” The maddening patterns continued and worked
their way down to Becky’s small, perfect breasts. There
the touches caused the nipples to harden to crinkled
points, nearly reaching themselves for the cause of
their arousal.

“Chris, this is making me crazy.” Becky moaned. ”

I know. But you’ll like it when I’m through. I

She wasn’t sure. Each bare touch was like a brand, she
wanted, needed to rub it away, it seared into her
conscious and it was all she could think of until the
next touch. She felt on fire and she felt like she
couldn’t stand it. After a long exploration, Christie
moved to Becky’s waist and stomach. Becky could feel
the muscles there contracting under the delicate

Her whole body felt alive at that point, more alive
than it had ever been before and part of her wanted to
see how far Christie would take it. Another part, the
greater part, wanted it to be over, wanted release from
the gentle, maddening torture. “Chris, please… please
do something.”

“Not yet.” Chris replied, gently. The fingers detoured
to Becky’s arms, even to the palms of her hands, then
left them to go to the feet to begin a slow journey
back up.

Becky suddenly realized that the ache between her legs
had become a raging fire, that each itchy, tickly touch
was translating to her clitoris and as soon as she
realized that, it became the focus of all her
attention. So caught up in desire, Becky didn’t hear
herself begging her lover for relief until she was
nearly shouting for it. Her legs opened, her knees
bent. The touches trailed fire up her thighs. She
didn’t hear herself moan, “No! Touch me! TOUCH ME!”
until the sound rang in her ears.

The fingers reached their goal and teased, touching
everywhere but her aching, reaching nub. Becky thrust
her hips up in demand then again, trying to get real
pressure on her needy body. Christie bent and sent her
tongue tip to following her fingers, around and around
where Becky most wanted the tongue to be, never quite
reaching the goal. Becky grabbed for Christie’s hair to
force the confrontation but Christie only laughed and
drew away.

Becky’s moans had come to resemble sobs at that point
and finally, finally, Christie took pity on her. It
took only one, hard swipe of the tongue across the
rigid clitoris and Becky’s body exploded in orgasm. The
throbbing, tingling, all consuming feelings surged
through her, taking all her attention, demanding it. It
didn’t end there.

Christie began licking and sucking in earnest and the
first orgasm was quickly followed by another, and
another, and another, until Becky’s moans changed to
pleas; her body pleasured way past anything she could
stand. The stimulus finally slowed and stopped and the
mini explosions died away. Becky gradually became aware
of other things besides her own body.

Her heart slowed, her breathing calmed, she blinked at
the ceiling and wondered how she would ever again feel
something so wonderful. Christie’s head was pillowed on
Becky’s abdomen, her fingers sliding through the silky
pubic hair. Becky reached down and rubbed the blonde
strands across her belly into her dark skin.

“Oh, Chris, that was so great,” Becky sighed. “It was

“Yes,” Christie didn’t move. “I think so.” There was a
wistful sound to the blonde’s voice that Becky suddenly
didn’t like. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you think is the matter?” Christie sat up,
turned away so Becky couldn’t see her face. “That was
the greatest thing and this might be the only time we
ever do it. I don’t want it to be the only time.”

“I don’t either.”

“No?” Christie turned and looked into Becky’s eyes.
“But we can’t stay here and do it. We’ll be caught and
our families will ruin it for us. God, could you
imagine the Hell that would be?”


Becky could imagine it. It would be the worst thing to
ever happen to her. And to have it arise out of
something so wonderful would make it worse. “I don’t
want that to happen, not to you or me. But Christie, I
don’t know how I could live with you here and never be

“No. Well, I won’t be here.”

“You’re leaving?” That gave Becky a pain like a blow.

“Yes. My Aunt in New York is in the modeling business;
she’s promised me a job if I go. My parents want me to
stay and get married, but I can’t. I couldn’t stand
that.” Chris’s eyes were pleading for Becky to

She did understand and she envied her lover that
opportunity. She took a deep breath and said, “Well,
that would be wonderful. You’ll be a great model,

Christie smiled. “Oh, I’m not going to model, silly, my
boobs are too big. No it’s a gofer kind of job while I
go to school. She’s going to help me with that too. I’m
going to be an engineer.”

Becky’s eyes got wide. “Really? Wow.” She knew Christie
was smart, they’d both spent High School in honors
classes, but that was a field she’d never thought of.

“I wish I could go to school.”

It was Christie’s turn to look startled. “What? What
about the scholarships you won?”

“What does a girl need with college?” Becky replied
bitterly. “There still wasn’t enough for four years and
nobody in my family is going to help me. They aren’t
even going to let me go the year I got funded.”

“I’m supported though, we could get an apartment
together and study together and always be together.
Come with me? Please?” Becky saw the sincerity in
Christie’s eyes and swallowed. It would be an
irrevocable step. Their families would never forgive
them. She imagined the conversation with her parents,
“Mama, Guess what? I’m a dyke and I’m going to college
in New York with my white girlfriend.” But it would be
the best thing to ever happen to her, she knew, except
for the moment Christie sat down in front of her that

“What if your Aunt finds out about us?” She asked.

Triumph blazed in Christie’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
She said as she fell into Becky’s arms. “She’s like us.
Her lover works there too. It’ll be great. Oh, Beck,
we’ll be so happy.”

Becky, as they kissed, sealing the deal, thought they
might be too.

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