"Well, we don't like her, Mom." I stammered in lieu of an explanation.

"You don't like her." My father said dryly. "Why? 'Cause she's not Beth?" My father's comment took me by surprise. I looked across the table at my brother who seemed to find his meat loaf very interesting. I knew I would get no help from him, mainly because I knew deep down Beth and I were wrong, but would not allow those words to pa.s.s through my lips. I looked back at my mother who met my gaze with her own dark eyes burning into mine.

"I want to see you playing with kids other than Beth. Do I make myself clear, Emily Jane?"

"But-"

"Don't argue with your mother! That girl has got way too many problems. She's a bad influence on you. I won't have my daughter hanging out with that girl. Her parents aren't married anymore, and her mother wh.o.r.es around."

"But, dad, that isn't Beth's fault!" I exclaimed, my face red with anger.

"Don't you talk to me that way, young lady! You are fourteen years old, and are still a child. I don't give a d.a.m.n if you've started your monthly or not." I turned even redder at this announcement to the family. I could not even look Billy in the face terrified of what I'd see there.

"Henry," my mother said quietly to my father, placing her hand on top of his. My father glanced up at me with apologetic eyes for a moment before they became serious again.

"Girls your age should have lots of friends. Right, honey?" he turned to look at my mother. "Didn't you have lots of girlfriends at Emmy's age?" my mother didn't answer, but turned to me instead. She placed her soft, warm hand over mine.

"Sweetie, we're not saying that you can never see or play with Beth again. Only that maybe you should give some other girls a chance. There has been a few new families that have moved into the neighborhood, and I've seen some girls and boys your age with them. Okay?"

"Francis, don't act as if this isn't serious!" my father said sternly to my mother.

"Honey, I will handle this." My mother gave him the 'look'. He shut his mouth and took a drink of his milk, his eyes looking elsewhere.

"Okay?" my mother asked me again.

I looked down at my half-eaten dinner, and plopped my fork into the mountain of mashed potatoes. I simply nodded, feeling a lump in my throat too thick to speak over.

"Good." My mother patted my hand before releasing it.

"So, Billy, how did try outs go? Did you make the team?" my father asked with barely controlled excitement edging his voice. I didn't bother to listen to my brother's answer. Why should I care if he made the stupid baseball team or not? I picked up my fork again and pushed my food around until it was a big pile of meatloaf, mashed potato, and greenbean mush.

I leaned against the counter as I watched the sink fill steadily with billowy suds. My head jerked to the right when I heard a crash. Billy ran into the handle of the oven as he tried to catch the dishtowel that he was throwing up into the air. He drew his brows together as he groaned, holding his stomach. I smiled to myself. Serves him right, the big dope that he was. He wouldn't even stand up for Beth.

"Is that water done yet?" he whined, walking over to stand next to me.

"Almost." I said absently watching the hot water stream out of the faucet.

"Good. I don't wanna be here all night with you."

"Thanks." I said, slugging him in the gut. He doubled over and glared at me. "This is just not fair, Billy."

"Why? We always have to do dishes. It's like a national pastime,." he grinned.

"Not the dishes, you dope, this whole stupid thing with Beth. It sucks! Dad is being so unfair." I looked over my shoulder to the doorway of the kitchen to make sure neither of my parents were in hearing distance. I could hear Captain Kirk giving orders to Spock in the next room. I turned back to my brother. "Why is he doing this, Billy?" he shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I don't know, Emmy. You know dad. He usually has a reason for what he does even if he's the only one who knows the reason." he grinned and slugged me lightly in the arm. "He loves us, and is always trying to do what's best, or something. I think he just worries because Beth has so many problems with her family, and that whole thing with her mom having that fling with the president of that bank she works at." My head snapped around to stare at him.

"How do you know about that?" Billy shrugged indifferently, grabbing the handful of knives that I had just washed and put into the sink with rinse water.

"Everyone knows about that, Emmy. It's no big secret."

"But, they never throw a fit because you and John spend so much time together. And his dad's a drunk, too! And he beats his wife! So what's the big deal about me and Beth? G.o.d, this is so stupid!" I could feel my anger building. It was not fair that my parents were trying to dictate who I spent time with. My blood began to boil. How dare they try to come between me and Beth!

"Come on, Emmy, you know you guys can still play, or whatever it is you do."

"Don't pacifize me, Billy!" my brother grinned.

"That's patronize, you dip. And I'm not." I slammed the newly washed gla.s.s into the hot water so hard that a stream of it fountained up into the air and splashed me in the face. My brother fell against the counter laughing, his hand holding his stomach. "Dang, girl. Calm down." He said through his tears. I just glared at him and wiped my face off.

I made my way into the kitchen, and brewed myself a pot of Ginger Peach hot tea. Sitting with my steaming mug at the table, I opened the photo alb.u.m once again. The year 1981 came in with a bang. My father had just been promoted at the car dealership to sales manager the previous December, and my brother would be heading out to the military after his high school graduation in June. Beth and I would be heading into high school in the fall. Ronald Reagan would be elected president and shot before the year was out, and the greatest of all t.v. Phenomenon's of the eighties would begin, MTV. Two hundred and ninety-six people would die from the short-lived t.i.tle of 'the gay cancer' during that twelve-month period.

I flipped to a picture that immediately brought a smile to my lips. The Polaroid showed me and Beth in the living room of my parent's house, our arms around each other's shoulders, gla.s.ses of red Kool-Aid raised high for the camera. Our young faces had huge smiles plastered on them. In the background my parents could be seen in each other's arms caught forever in a New Year's kiss. Billy had snapped the picture right at midnight.: Mom, Dad, Emmy and Beth celebrate the New Year: 1981.

"That looks like such a rad movie!" Beth exclaimed, staring at the incredible images of the adventures of a new hero, Indiana Jones. Steven Spielberg's instant cla.s.sic, Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark was due out in theaters soon.

"I can't wait!" Billy agreed from the couch behind us as we sat on the floor, as he dumped a handful of popcorn into his awaiting mouth. Beth looked over her shoulder at him with a lopsided grin on her face.

"I bet Harrison Ford kicks as much a.s.s as he did as Han." she grinned, referring to her hero playing Han Solo in Star Wars, and The Empire Strikes Back..

"Beth." I said in surprise. "My parents might hear you. Watch your mouth." She stuck her tongue out at me, and turned back to Billy.

"Not to mention, Karen Allen." he grinned. Beth smiled back at him and nodded before she turned back to me.

"Who's Karen Allen?" I asked, looking from one to the other.

"A really cute chick." Billy informed me with a grin. I shrugged and turned to Beth.

"Hey, ready for bed?" she grinned as she wiggled a brow, letting me know she had something planned.

"Hey, don't leave me down here alone, guys." Billy complained. "It's bad enough I had to stay home tonight."

"You had a chance to go with Sarah and her family, Billy." I chastised with the slightest bit of sympathy.

"Yeah, but her dad hates me. No way am I gonna spend a couple days with that old geezer watching us every minute. Talk about a s.h.i.tty New Years."

"Guess he just doesn't want a bunch a pups left after you leave." Beth said with a wicked smile. "Sorry, Billy boy. Gotta go." she said dramatically, and grinned. I shrugged my shoulders at his incredulous look, and stood to lead the way toward the stairs.

My bedroom hadn't changed much over the years. I still had the pastel blue curtains over the large window, but had talked my mom into letting me paint the room. Now instead of the curtain matching blue, my walls were white. Not a big victory, but life is made up of small victories, I reasoned. Plastered on my walls were posters of Harrison Ford, the musical group Toto, and Olivia Newton-John on one closet door with Bonnie Tyler on the other. Clark Gable and Vivian Leigh graced the wall on one side of my dresser mirror while Judy Garland graced the other side with Tom Drake in a still from Meet Me In St. Louis, forever frozen in the cla.s.sic Hollywood pre-kiss pose. On the wall opposite the dresser wall was a poster with Bogie and Ingrid Bergman from Casablanca. Beth had gotten me into the great cla.s.sics.

"Oh, man. What a long night." Beth breathed as she plopped down on my bed and grabbed her over-night bag from the floor and set it in her lap. She unzipped the largest pocket, and dug around for a few minutes when with a smile she withdrew a small bottle filled nearly full with clear liquid. She gave me a grin full of mischief.

"What's that?" I asked walking to the bed and sitting next to her.

"Rum."

"Rum?" I repeated, my curiosity piqued. "Where did you get it?" I took the bottle from her and began to read the label. "Ronrico silver label. Puerto Rican Rum." She took the bottle back from me and unscrewed the cap.

"It's my mom's."

"Uh, won't she miss it?" I asked, still eyeing the little gla.s.s bottle warily.

"Nah. Are you kidding? She's got enough to last her ten New Year's. She won't know it's gone." Beth put the opening to her lips, and with a deep breath took a drink. I had to grab the Rum from her as she began to cough and stammer, almost dropping it to the carpet.

"You okay?" I asked as I thumped her back, concern filling my face.

"Ugh! Yeah, I'm fine. Try some." she said, her voice low, and rough from the coughing fit and the burning liquid, indicating the bottle in my hand. I gave her one last glance to make sure she wasn't going to keel over, and took a swig. The sweet fire filled my mouth, and I clenched my eyes tightly shut so I wouldn't spit it all over my bed. I managed to swallow it down, feeling the Rum sear my insides as it went to finally land squarely in my stomach with a whoosh.

"Good G.o.d!" I cried after my own coughing fit. I handed the bottle back to Beth. "That stuff is awful! Your mom actually drinks that stuff on purpose?" Beth laughed at me.

"I know. It's better when you have it in something like a daiquiri."

"How would you know?"

"I've had them before. They're really good." I eyed her with a raised brow, then shrugged.

"So what do you think of that new kid, what's his name? Scott something?" I asked looking at her profile as she took another drink. She closed her eyes as she swallowed, not looking at me as she handed over the Rum. She swallowed a couple of times, but did not cough or show any other sign of discomfort. Finally she took in a mouthful of air to cool off her tingling mouth. Something told me that that was not her first time with straight Rum.

"Scott Mathews?" I nodded as I took a drink. "I think he's a dork. Why?"

"Darla likes him. He's all I heard about last week. Scott this, Scott that. Isn't Scott cute, he's got a cute b.u.t.t." Darla Newman had become one of my close friends, completely against Beth's will, but it pleased my parents. They did not get along that great, but Beth tolerated her for my benefit. Darla thought Beth was weird because she did not like make-up, nor did she do anything with her hair. Many of the girls our age wore their hair at shoulder length or shorter, but Beth, as usual, went against the crowd. She wore her dark hair long and straight, though usually pulled back in a ponytail, or smashed down by some hat. Her long bangs were constantly being pushed out of the way by her hand or mine. She did not constantly talk about boys, and she had no interest in clothes. She just did not fit in, and she relished her differences. She said that this made her unique. I thought it just made for hard times with people snickering behind your back, and making jokes about you. Beth didn't mind the names they called her, most of which I really didn't even understand what they meant. One of the favorite names that came from the boys was dike. I mean, what does a water embankment have to do with her? I didn't understand it. Once I told Billy how silly and strange it was for Beth to be called that. He turned bright red, and walked away mumbling about homework. All the same, I thought it was interesting that all the reasons people didn't like Beth, were exactly the reasons I did.

"I think he's a dork, too. I mean, he's not even cute." I said. I looked over at Beth and waited as she took a drink.

"Ahhh!" she exclaimed smacking her lips together with a smile.

"You've got to be joking. That stuff is awful." I took the bottle from her outstretched hand and looked at it with drawn brows making an impromptu decision that I did not like Rum. "What is this stuff supposed to do to you, anyway?" No sooner were the words out of my mouth when I felt a surge of energy run through my body making it tingle from the soles of my bare feet to the end of my ponytail. My eyes opened wide as I tried to stifle a giggle that sprouted straight from my gut.

"You were saying?" Beth grinned.

"Whoa." I breathed, turning to her. "I feel reeeeally strange." I grinned. It felt as though my head were as light as a feather, strange thoughts floating around like billowy clouds in a clear, blue sky.

"Really?" Beth said, trying to hold back her own giggle. "You don't look strange."

"No?" Beth shook her head, her bangs falling into her eyes. I reached out to try and move them out of the way, but my eyes weren't working as well as they usually did, and my perception was off. "Sorry, Bethy, honey." I snickered as I poked her in the eye.

"Quite all right." she giggled, rubbing her red right eye. I would always be a lightweight when it came to alcohol. I couldn't keep my head still so it began to bob on my neck like it was hooked to a spring, which made us laugh even more.

I smiled as I ran my finger over the glossy faces in the picture. We were so young. Then my smile began to turn bittersweet. The year I turned fifteen would also be the year that our friendship would take a severe turn for the worse. But I didn't want to think about that. My thoughts turned back to the first night Beth got me drunk. After many silly attempts at playing cards, acting out scenes from our favorite movies, and singing, we decided to go to bed, the alcohol draining the energy out of us both.

Beth turned off the wall light switch, and stumbled her way back to bed, hissing a curse as she smacked her foot on something. I laid on my back staring up at the ceiling, my mind caught between a state of total exhaustion, and utter clarity. It was a strange feeling. I felt the mattress shift as Beth laid down next to me on her back, her eyes on my profile. She was quiet, but I could hear her breath come in quick bursts. She turned on her side facing me.

"Em?" she asked, trying to whisper, but not quite making it. I grinned.

"Yes, Beth?"

"You're a fun drunk." she giggled.

"I am not a drunk. You're the drunk. You drank a way lot more than I did, you fish." She giggled again.

"Na ah. You did."

"No, you did." I rolled over on my side facing her and stuck my finger in her side. She yelled out and moved her body away from me.

"Shhh," I laughed as I began to attack again. "You'll wake up my parents." I reached out with both hands, groping for her most ticklish parts.

"You better quit," she said through clenched teeth, grabbed my hands to still them and give her aching sides a reprieve. "I'm warning you, Em. You'll be sorry." I giggled as I looked into her eyes that held an evil gleam in the darkness of my bedroom. I stuck my tongue out at her. She raised her eyebrows, and leaned up on her elbow, looking down at me. A burst of heat roared through my body landing squarely between my legs. I swallowed. "Are you gonna stop?" she asked quietly.

"No." I croaked. Why did I say that? I could end this all right now, and get her to stop looking at me that way if only I'd agree to behave. Then we could go to sleep.

"No?" Say yes! Say yes!

"Do you think I'd actually listen to you, Miss Smarty Pants?" I could actually hear a groan come from inside my head somewhere. I shoved it away, and glared playfully back at her. I reached an experimental hand toward her stomach again, only for it to be taken in hers. She pushed me on to my back and rolled on top of me, holding both of my hands now securely over my head. My head was in a daze from the alcohol that still ran though my system, and also from the heat, and weight of Beth's body stretched out on mine. Wherever her skin touched mine, my body flamed. I felt like I had a full-body fever. Our legs were bare, leaving only a barrier of our underwear and T-shirts between our blazing bodies.

"Are you still going to fight me?" she breathed, her lips just inches from mine. I could only shake my head. She smiled vaguely. I'm not sure who finally bridged the gap between our mouths, but the next thing I knew her lips were pressed to mine. She let go of my hands and ran her own down to my shoulders. My hands automatically flew down, and reached out across the expanse of her back, her immense body heat nearly burning me through the thin material of the T-shirt she was using to sleep in. Our bodies shifted slightly, and I nearly cried out as I felt her leg go between mine, her thigh pressed to the throbbing between my legs. I had no idea what was happening, but I was enjoying it thoroughly. I felt wet as if I had peed my pants. I could feel Beth's own strange wetness against my own thigh. I began to pull away from her, but she grabbed me tighter. Then I felt the wetness of her tongue against my swollen lips. I had heard about this from Billy. French kissing. Curious, I eagerly opened my lips to her. Her tongue was soft, and wet, and I could faintly taste Rum mingled with Crest toothpaste. She ran her tongue over mine, and seemed to search for something just out of reach in my mouth. I heard her whimper as she pressed her lower body into mine. I gasped as her thigh rubbed against me, and then she started a slow, rocking motion with her body. She pulled her mouth from mine, and buried her face into my neck. I closed my eyes, my hands reached down to press her more into me, deepen the contact. She reached a hand down and grabbed my thigh that wasn't between her legs, and raised it so it rested near her hip. I sucked in my breath at the intensified sensation. I couldn't help it as a moan escaped my throat. This seemed to affect Beth as her rhythm quickened. I felt hot breath on the side of my neck followed by her lips. I arched my neck in response as I noticed additional sensations coming from my b.r.e.a.s.t.s as hers rubbed against mine. I could feel a tight, tingling feeling, almost painful, throbbing from my nipples that were hard like when I got out of the shower. I reached my hands up and put my fingers between our bodies and onto Beth's nipples. They were just as hard as mine felt. She groaned into the tender skin of my throat at the contact.

"Oh, Em." she breathed.

I could feel a pressure building in the pit of my stomach, and was working its way down with every move of Beth's thigh against me. It moved quickly to spread out like a blanket of warmth spreading into my b.u.t.t and tops of my thighs, and was sailing like a comet through the sky to between my legs. My breathing started coming faster as the wave of heat began to turn into a pulse like a heartbeat. My hips arched up as if they had developed a mind of their own to meet Beth's rhythm. I dug my fingers into the hem of Beth's shirt as I felt that pulsing pressure explode out of my body with a blast of light behind my eyes. My mouth opened as my eyes closed, my breathing and heart stopped. I could feel Beth tense against me, her breaths coming in gasps against my neck, her hands curling into the sheet on either side of my head until her hips stopped all together.

Slowly, slowly the world returned on its axis, and I could again breathe. Beth pushed up so she was above me with her weight on her arms. We stared into each other's eyes, not sure what else to do. She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something when we both started as a knock sounded at my bedroom door.

"Emmy? Beth? Are you two okay?" my mother's voice said quietly from the other side. I swallowed, hard, but managed to bring my voice to its normal level.

"Fine, mom."

"I heard a noise." I looked up at Beth who shrugged her shoulders, her eyes looked as mortified as I felt.

"Uh, Beth fell out of bed. She had a bad dream." I closed my eyes at how lame I knew the lie sounded. But my mother seemed to buy it.

"Okay, sweetie. See you in the morning."

"Night." I heard her soft, slippered steps fade and disappear altogether.

To my doleful relief, Beth moved off of me, and laid on her side of the bed on her back, careful not to touch me in any way. My body felt chill in the cold January night air when she took her body heat from me. I stayed where I was, but looked over at Beth, noticing that her breathing still had not completely returned to normal. She put her forearm over her eyes.

"I am so drunk." she whispered.

"Yeah." I groaned dramatically. "Me, too." I actually had never felt more sober in all my fourteen and a half years. I swallowed as I could still feel a faint pulsing between my legs. What had we just done? Was that normal between friends? Between girls? Darla Newman and some of her friends had told me stories about how they lay down with a pillow or a teddy bear and rubbed against it. Is that why they do that?

I turned to look at Beth expecting to meet eyes made dark by the night, but I met her back instead. Her breathing was fairly normal now, and I couldn't tell if she was asleep or not.

"Beth?" I whispered, barely audible to my own ears. Her only reply was a slight moan as she resettled her shoulder against the mattress.

The light of the morning came quickly, its brightness stirring me out of a restless sleep. I glanced over at my alarm clock that sat on the dresser top across from the bed. It was only eight-fifteen. I laid my head back down on the pillow with a sigh. My head hurt, and I didn't feel like my feet were completely on earth yet. I looked over at Beth. She lay on her stomach, facing me, arms crossed underneath the pillow. She was still very much asleep, her breathing slow and deep. I studied her face as last night came back to me. Her mouth was relaxed with a slight smile upon her full lips. Maybe she was reliving the experience in the land of sleep? I closed my eyes as a now familiar heat shot to between my legs. No, no. Never again. We can never do that again.

I stood at the counter with my hand on the top of the coffee maker as it perked to life, my mind and eyes a million miles and years away. I saw ourselves that morning as we dressed for breakfast. Beth and I joked around as usual, both complaining about our common headache, and shared a giggle or two about getting away with getting drunk. To the untrained eye it would have seemed as if nothing was wrong or different. But I knew. I could not meet Beth's eyes. I thought that if I looked into the ocean-blue depths of those expressive eyes I would see something that would scare me, and that I wouldn't be able to turn away from it. Our usual, easy connection was gone, and I missed it.

I jumped slightly as I felt arms encircle my waist, and warmth along my back, but then relaxed back into the familiar body.