Track 15: Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time

The Grace Period -A Definition-

1.) The weeks post Amber’s disclosure of her history to Madaline, but preceding Madaline making a judgment call that desperate times meant desperate (Estelle would say, really fucking stupid, as in: seriously Maddy, you dumb bitch, how was that supposed to help? I can't even... How? How did that idea make it from concept to execution cause... it's not the stupidest thing you've ever done, but that is still really fucking stupid) measures were in fact called for.

2.) A time where the besties increasingly enjoyed each other's company, but the real complications from just how much they enjoyed each other (and indeed just how much they wanted to enjoy each other) hadn’t kicked in yet. Complications such as the cracks in Amber’s precarious, albeit assiduously maintained, psychological facade, making themselves ever more apparent.

What lay behind them was the Grace Period, what lays before them now is how the Grace Period ends.

It goes out with way more of a whimper than a bang, but like every other period of time coming to an end, nothing happens without coffee.

1.

Off the highway, Amber dropped the car down to the speed limit and Madaline navigated her through three more turns.

If Madaline was high from the mix of drugs in her system, then Amber getting to race Madaline’s car off into the remains of the day, with Madaline’s explicit trust and encouragement, had left the slighter woman in a similar state of euphoria, head spinning, giddily buzzing away like the wheels of the car across the pavement, locked in a world of joyful locomotion.

It was jarring for that sense of movement to come to a halt as Amber parked the car and killed the key, cutting off, We Are Your Friends by Justice and Simian, mid-chant.

She curiously inspected the dirty exterior of the building Madaline had brought her too. It was big, but no palace, an ugly; long non-descript cinder block of a place, with several people smoking outside at a picnic table by a heavy metal door that looked made to deflect bullets and battering rams, covered in a tempest of stickers. The windows were black and the only thing dressing it up was a swirling stretch of spray paint announcing its identity as the-

Amber turned back to Madaline, “Wake Up Call Cafe? Is this it?”

“Yep.”

They climbed out of the car, Amber taken by a sense of excitement and uncertainty, but then she was caught by curiosity, she'd missed it driving in, across the road, behind the parking lot, was a line of old rental houses, of the six in sight, four of them had some combination of pride flags, Amber could only identify three but she could see the trans flag was prominent at all four sites, “Wow, I’ve never seen that before, never so many in one place.”

“What do you mean it’s Greenhaven, they’re all over out here.”

“I don’t get out here much,” Amber said, her manner tilting a little taciturn.

“Right, yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s like this all year out here, not just at pride. People don't live in this part of town if they say no homo unironically.”

“Oh. Well... I’ve never actually been to Pride… anything before either.”

Madaline shrugged, “I have my issues with some aspects of it, people trying to take up space who shouldn't be, but there’s fun to be had, especially if you know where to go,” her hand went to Amber’s back as she led her to the entrance. “Anyway, we’ll fix that in a couple months.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.”

They moved closer.

“So what’s the inside like?”

Madaline checked her for nerves, but she didn’t seem anxious, more like she was unable to wait to open a present.

“It’s a cafe, it’s chill, it’s like Zippy Brew just with better coffee, atmosphere and clientele and last I checked business practices, used to be I'd include better staff on that list, but now Zippy Brew wins at that."

“Hey, Madaline,” said a bald, slender man from the picnic table. He had a beard and was dressed like a biker.

“Eddie,” Madaline said cheerfully with a little tip of the head and a wave.

“Funny running into you, I’ve actually got an odd job if you're interested.”

“I’m not, I’m being kept busy.” Madaline threw up her hands to mime punching keys. “You know Cam though?”

“Met her.”

“Them.”

“Scuse me. No disrespect meant.”

“Cool. Ah, Cam is reliable. Last I heard they were looking for extra money, saving up for... something.” Madaline gave him Cam's number, “Take it easy, Eddie, Ciao.” Then she opened the door and guided Amber out of the light of day and into the dark of the threshold.

They meandered down the narrow back hallway, walking a path generated by jaundiced light from a series of small bulbs sealed into the floor, like the isles of old movie theaters, illuminating walls that were gorgeously marred with carved names and graffiti, the stretch at last terminating into a wide open space that felt less describable as an area and more like an auditorium, the air was dense with the smell of coffee and the soft vibrations of low tempo music.

It was two floors, the lower overlooked by an iron balcony draped in more pride flags; the space was brighter than the entrance, but still existed as a perpetual pocket of twilight in the middle of the day, a delightful gloom lit by unobtrusive overhead lamps and vines of multicolored Christmas lights that had grown across surfaces like plastic kudzu, and above it all, the windows were painted black.

The walls of the entrance hall were only a sample platter of the actual space, no carved names that Amber could see, though almost any other surface seemed to be free game, instead these walls were like comic panels without gutters, a frozen explosion of psychedelic art done by masters of their craft:

Melting words crammed in with smilies with eyes half lidded, next to chipper dancing skeletons, abreast with cheerful intoxicated animals, below hovering UFOs, sharing ground with faces; faces with goofy grins, faces sneering with nothing less than disdain, faces with tongues like writhing worms and eyes popping out of sockets, ocular veins jagged and pulsing like strikes of crimson lightning, all captured in an eternal nexus of ultimate revelation or the breaking point of insanity. And that was all just some of the common recurrent motifs Amber’s brain took in at the first look; the same way a rain forest was full of trees, here was an expansive ecology of art, the beautiful, the wondrous and the upsetting, so much more might be found by looking closer, by going deeper.

Posters and notices were reserved for the service station at the center of the room, a wide circle with a short line that Madaline was moving them towards.

For as big as it was, there were seemingly no doors in this place beyond the entrance, just various areas demarcated by thresholds, a long curving recess was defined by the upper floor, filled with couches and shelves of board games, but even more filled with shelves full of battered books, a sequence terminating at the end where a pool table clattered.

Through an open archway on the opposite side sat a space for a small cadre of pinball machines and old cabinet style arcade games, blinking and chattering away. Through another arch next door, was a room full of racks of old records, with several turn tables wired up with headphones, waiting for use.

Behind them was a wide staircase that led to the upper floor, flanked by open hallways on either side marked kitchen and bathroom. Before them, out beyond the service station, were tables and chairs, concluding in vibrant crimson curtains and an unoccupied stage.

They got in line.

Amber turned her head here and there. The scattered clientele were fascinating, their activities were mixed, they were on computers or reading, others talking with friends and playing games and so many of them had an aura about them that Amber couldn't really identify, about a 70 to 30 have vs don't have ratio, and were a few of them... a few of both sets, looking at her?

If Amber asked Madaline about the aura, it wouldn't take Madaline more than thirty seconds to see what she was talking about and automatically giving the aura its name, the 70% were all in one way or another, queer.

“Like it?” Madaline asked, interrupting Amber's ruminations.

“Yeah,” Amber nodded, “No, I see what you meant about it not being Zippy Brew.”

She looked at the service station, at the handwritten menu on black dry erase boards in bright colors, next to familiar espresso machines and carafes of coffee were four handles for draft beer.

“Is this a bar or a coffee shop?”

“This is a cafe, in a kind of European sense, they’ve got coffee, they’ve got food, and between four and two A.M. They serve beer, but only beer. Friday and Saturday nights they move the tables around and do live shows and it's definitely more of a bar then. Rest of the time the place is primarily a coffeehouse, chill out lounge, hang out spot, that kind of thing. If Simon kicked me out before my place was ready I’d probably try to work out of here as much as I could, which isn’t much, but maybe once a week. I like it here, it’s cool, it’s got history, ours specifically.” She waved a finger indicating the flags above them, “But that’s Greenhaven.”

Amber twitched, as Madaline's hands slid onto her shoulders.

“What looks good?” Madaline said, taking a hand away and waving at the menu, “Get anything-” The hand that had abandoned Amber’s shoulder clapped against Madaline’s forehead. “What am I saying? I’m picking and you’re going to drink it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m not letting what you get your first time here be a self-serve black coffee. Hot or cold?”

“Iced please,” Amber sighed, but unable to prevent herself from smiling a little.

The line wound them to the front as Madaline extracted a wad of bills from her coat.

“Hey Madaline,” said the barista, dressed in an apron, hat, and t-shirt, her face had been hit by a close range scattershot of freckles, her hair was the shade of an orange rind.

“Hey Charlotte, give me a large iced Autumn Bomb, and an Energizer Bunny, oh and get her a little self serve. I want her to try a sample of the basic.”

“Sure thing Madaline, you take it easy on her alright.”

Madaline stuck out her lip and planted her hand over her heart, “You are making assumptions, while also wounding me thinking I would behave in any other way.”

Charlotte glanced from Madaline to Amber and back. “Uh-huh.”

Amber felt the slightest flush of heat from her belly, she looked from Charlotte to Madaline, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand what you-”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Madaline, sliding a few dollars into a jar, “She’s being a smart ass, she thinks it’ll get her a bigger tip. Sorry, Charlie, you’ll have to work a little harder.”

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte repeated, flipping Madaline off in a way that cared little for discretion.

Madaline shrugged.

Amber looked at a second jar filled with change and bills, featuring a print out of an older woman in a prison uniform, labeled: Donate to the Free Aunt Tabby Legal Fund- Trans Community Self Protection Advocate.

Madaline caught the subject of Amber’s focus and slid a twenty in the jar.

“Very generous,” Charlotte smiled.

“I’m cash lucky, if in no other way. You give what you can when you can.” Madaline said, paying for their drinks.

Madaline frequently did this kind of thing when they were out, often quietly, sometimes even sneakily, like it was the one place she didn't want to be seen, her change going into containers for various causes, handing out bills to unhoused people on the sidewalk as she and Amber passed or by the road as she drove.

Here though she did something Amber had never seen before, the money went in, she paid Charlotte, then she turned back to the jar, kissed her fore and middle fingers and pressed them to the pictured woman's cheek.

Normally Amber tried to think through whether or not she wanted to display her ignorance of something to Madaline, but sometimes the words also just leapt out of her:

“Who is she?” Amber asked.

Madaline looked sharply at Amber, not upset, but surprised.

Amber kicked herself internally, glancing at Charlotte who also looked surprised. Each of her ears picked up a little glow.

“Right, ah. Aunt Tabby… Tabitha Lovelace was a… I’m really not the best person to give you a history lesson… ah… but she was a big figure in Operation TRASH,” Madaline paused for a moment to see if Amber knew what that was, then went on before Amber decided whether or not she wanted to pretend to, “They started out as this trans hacker collective before transitioning into a full scale queer rights... advocacy group, the... hardcore variety. When the group really started picking up steam and their ... activities started getting more analogue, South Providence was kind of like their home base.”

“Greenhaven was, she was from Greenhaven,” Charlotte added. “Lived six blocks down. She was in here often enough.”

“You’ve met her?” Amber asked.

“No, she got locked up in like 2011 on bullshit charges, but this place has been around for awhile,” said Charlotte.

“We have a lot to thank her and people like her for, we want her out, she’s a political prisoner. Anyway, it’s a heavy topic, we can chat about it sometime if you want, but like I said if you want anything better than an overview there's way better people to talk to than me, or you can look online or there’s probably books in the library.” She slid an empty cup off a stack, “Here go try the self serve and,” she looked to the shelves of games, “You want to pick out a game to play or we can do arcade stuff, whatever you like?”

Amber nodded and took the cup, walking around the service station. She filled her cup with a sample of steaming coffee and sipped, it was by far one of the best coffees she’d ever tasted, flavorful and complex, it certainly beat what she served at work. She sipped more and thought over the quandary of board games vs old arcade games, and decided she’d prefer to sit at a table with Madaline right now, it felt more… well, no need to put a word on it, they could change it up later if they were here long enough.

She shrugged off her coat and journeyed over to the shelves of board games, looking through them, down, then up, finding the Scrabble set that seemed to have been waiting for her.

Amber chewed her lip and decided as she had earlier that she wasn’t going to let Serpentine’s gibes get in the way of her having a good time. She gave it a moment to see if she’d have anything to say to Amber, but she remained silent, as she said she would. Only problem being the Scrabble set was on top of the shelf, not the top shelf, it was the bottom box of four on the top of the shelf.

Amber looked around for a stool and didn’t find one. She finished the sample in her cup, set it aside, sighed, tied her coat carefully around her waist, and got up on her toes, trying to work the box out as carefully as she possibly could from her disadvantaged position. Madaline’s a human skyscraper, I should just wait, I don’t think she’ll mind.

“Here, let me help you,” said a voice behind her.

Roughly 180 seconds prior, Madaline was waiting at the delivery point of the service station, watching as Amber shrugged off her coat, and placed it under her arm. Madaline continued to watch her, with watch becoming a euphemism for admiring and admiring being a cover for what she was actually doing by that point which wasn’t too distinct from out and out ogling her.

Why didn’t I talk her out of the yoga pants? That's going to be hell, I mean, that skirt is bad enough right now, but seriously… Fuck, I'm so grateful I no longer feel the constant urge to say to her, Amber, stop what you're doing and eat a fucking snack, but... now... goddamnit Amber, stop what you're doing, which is being such a fucking snack, Madaline’s fingers curled and uncurled.

She watched Amber bend over to look at the lower portion of one shelf, the perspective this position provided Madaline was a sight that she thought might kill her on the spot. Unable to silence her own yearnings by giving them an outlet, nor able to repeatedly punch herself in the dick until it went back to sleep, Madaline fell back once again on the increasingly useless song of sublimation.

Bestie, bestie, be like a big sister, bestie, bestie.

Actually at this point, the song might just be making things worse magnifying her frustrations rather than reestablishing control over her thoughts.

She watched Amber look at the top of the shelf, she was standing at an angle now, which allowed Madaline to see Amber chew her lip before twitching her mouth to the side in thought, a cute expression Amber performed when she was considering something without too much static from her anxiety, then Amber looked around before getting on her toes and started trying to work a box out with just her finger tips without dropping the stack, stretching her body, giving Madaline another fantastic view of her ass. Okay, is it the food or the clothes or both or was it always that… plush… jiggle physics... fuck, I should help her.

Madaline took a step to go and offer Amber her assistance, but Charlotte was delivering their order and she turned away for 10 seconds to get the drinks and thank her, before turning back in Amber’s direction.

Madaline’s eyes bugged and her pupils went to pinpricks.

The thing that must be understood about the nature of the situation Madaline and Amber are now in, is that they’re both totally exhausted, their mental states are compromised from constantly spending an increasingly longer time at night hanging out instead of going to bed or you know doing the obvious thing and literally sleeping together… But neither of them can feel just how much they’re being affected by that reality because of the metric ton of natural happy chemicals swirling in their brains, which are primarily and addictively generated by spending time with each other. Call it what you want, they are constantly blitzed in a very particular way, their rational capabilities curbed while also constantly fiending for more.

All of that is to say, it is actually kind of amazing that Madaline’s judgment has been as good as it has been so far.

Madaline’s fingers flexed against the cups, trying to crack something and failing due to her hands being full, as were her eyes: There was a guy talking to Amber, handing her the Scrabble box and the real issue, not only was he not fucking off once he’d passed the box over, he was standing a little too close while talking to her, too close here meaning, he wasn’t on the other end of the room.

Madaline’s self awareness caught the ridiculously unwarranted tempo of her thoughts. Oh wow, I’m fucking nuts. No, I am not fucking nuts, Madaline thought, almost nonplussed and began counting backward from five, her roll slowing.

Jesus. Getting upset like that over a guy, a perfectly…. normal guy, in the middle of the day in a public place, who is standing a little close but... seems to be acting perfectly respectful towards her, just having a friendly hello, getting riled up, going out of control over that would be… what a way to make a fool of myself, it’s… kind of funny. You know what, this is on me, if I hadn’t been distracted by lewdly longing for her ass, I could have been over there getting the box for her, so there’s no reason to feel… jel… Actually, no, when it comes down to it, not to deflect responsibility, but I kind of feel like this is 80 to 90% Simon’s fault. So now I am going to go over there calm and friendly, cause I am not, in spite of what some say, a crazy bitch, and with a few words I will get Amber’s attention and we will leave him behind, which will work cause, all the critics agree, I am better than him.

Then Madaline watched as it became undeniable that, yes, he was flirting with her.

Over two months of accumulated jealousy and frustration rolled over inside Madaline and began to burn, capitalizing on the sleeper agent of possessiveness that had been silently growing, generating a thunder cloud in her head.

She took a step and once more her brain cranked back into place.

Fuck nevermind, this is exactly what E was talking about, I need to cool off, seriously this is not healthy, this is not a reasonable response, she and I don’t remotely have the kind of relationship where I should even be feeling this way and he’s not a threat, there is no justification here for me to feel this way, much less do anything. She and I are friends. I do not have any right to- IS THAT BASICMALE LOSER TOUCHING HER FUCKING ARM!

If the walls of the Wake Up Call Cafe could talk, they'd be screaming, seriously you moron, can't you hear the boss music?

Madaline stalked around, a delightful premonition of premeditation blooming in her head, an architecture laid out: set the coffees on an empty table, ninja sneak, come up from behind, right arm control his free wrist, left hand shoves the back of his neck while kicking out his left leg, down he goes on his face. No more cis-fuckboy flirting with Amber, then stand atop him as the people cheer.

She was actually setting the coffees down on the table, when the tides shifted and her sanity rolled back in.

No! And I mean fuck no, I am horny for her and on a mix of drugs that historically can make me do stupid shit like ruin a perfectly fun date with an assault charge not to mention our friendsh-

Madaline’s brain came to a screeching halt, slipping upon the banana peel of her own thoughts, the inherent contradiction, the logic bomb coded into her cognition .

Platonic, friend date, besties, goddammit, I like her, I want her, but not only am I not this crazy, I am also not this crazy for her, for fuck sake, it’s the middle of the day... No. Okay, I haven’t done anything yet, no harm, no foul, I am not this crazy, I just let shit run away with me for a sec… he still has to go though, as in walk away… untouched by me… because I am in control of my urges... So... subtle terrorizer mode.

She picked the cups back up, counted away from ten and then halted again, caught by… something…

She studied Amber, not checking her out, but actually checking her out, there was something weird.

Her posture, the little smile on her face, small but real, lighting her features, the barest gleam of teeth glinted like the tip of a knife coming through a surface. Did she know him?

Madaline fixed her own posture, squaring her shoulders, standing up straight, displaying her full height and moved forward slow and careful. There was something… her brain was catching something weird that she wasn’t making sense of… either Amber knew him or…

Estelle’s voice popped into Madaline’s head to drop some hard knowledge, You helped her glow up, did you think guys weren’t going to notice? Really, they probably already did, also is it just me or is she enjoying talking to him?

Yes, that was true, which made Madaline feel both relieved and disappointed that she’d caught herself before going some degree of bat shit, but the fact that Amber was enjoying talking to him wasn’t the only thing, there was still something else, but what?

“So what’s your major?” he asked Amber.

And there it was, an answer by way of an absence being filled. The question resulted in the first instance of Amber showing signs of being slightly anxious in the interaction, meanwhile such a question also confirmed that no they did not know each other.

“Oh, I had to take time off, you know,” Amber rubbed at her wrist a couple times and stopped. “I was majoring in English.”

“Sure, I get you, anyway-”

Motherfucker is going to ask for her contact info.

Madaline moved forward, a smile on her face for Amber and thinly veiled violence in her eyes for the fuckboy.

“Madaline,” Amber said, and the little smile turned into a big one.

“Ah, Henry, this is Madaline. Madaline is my very best friend.”

Something in Madaline screamed in fury to walk this asshole outside and kick his ass for having been introduced to her under that term, but the leash remained tight.

Madaline turned her head, looking down at Henry, looming over him, standing just a little too close, not too close for Henry to be able to call out, just enough to be well within Madaline’s reach.

“Hi, Henry, good to meet you,” said Madaline’s mouth. I cannot express how much I hate you, but I do, said Madaline’s eyes. “Here you go bestie,” she said, hating the word as it came out of her mouth, passing Amber her drink without looking away from Henry, smiling.

“Oh, thanks,” Amber said.

“So where do you two know each other from?” Madaline asked, sipping the vanilla goodness of her drink and then going back to smiling.

“We don’t actually know each other, he helped me get the box down, short girl problems,” Amber rattled the Scrabble box. “He said he likes my skirt,” Amber added, beaming up at Madaline.

Unless he wants to wear one he can fuck off. “Right, well what can I say Amber you’ve got good taste.”

She saw the slight tension move into him as he began to pick up Madaline’s mood, it had taken him long enough, the understanding that he would not be chatting with Amber further and that he would not be getting any contact info. Fuck off, chaser.

He pulled his gaze away from Madaline, he smiled at Amber, “Ah, anyway it was nice meeting you, both of you, but I have to get to work,” he held up a satchel. “Enjoy your game Amber, maybe I'll see you in here again some time?”

“Um, yeah, maybe. Thanks for getting it down for me.”

“No problem.”

“See you around Henry, have a good day at work,” Madaline waved. With that I am down to 98 problems because one of them is walking away.

And he was, it gave Madaline a rush of pleasure which then rolled itself back into shame as Estelle popped back up to tell her she’d had no right to do what she’d just done, it was shitty: That guy was not any sort of threat to Amber, at least not in these circumstances and Amber had maybe been enjoying getting flirted with, if he wanted to ask for her info and Amber wanted to give it to him that was their business, not hers.

Now that it was safely over, Madaline switched gears and tried to produce a list of reasons why, while what she’d wanted to do wouldn’t have been the coolest move in the world, what she’d actually done was in fact perfectly okay:

He was a chaser, which was ridiculous, because unless Amber told him that she was trans there was no way he knew, though some of them did seem to have their own radar for girls like Amber, but even then Madaline would be forced to admit she hadn't been paying enough attention to him to make a clear call on that.

Then there was the idea that she was doing it for Simon, which felt both grossly untrue and gross because that was also not her business.

Or that she was doing it to prevent Amber from falling into a situation that might make her uncomfortable, that one had a spark of truth, but once again she knew it was untrue.

No, the reason she’d done that was she was high and exhausted and she’d developed a level of possessiveness towards the smaller woman that could perhaps no longer be ignored.

Although, she considered, if Amber were to dump Simon for… insert that guy, Madaline had already forgotten his name, or really just any other straight-cis guy, that would actually make Madaline’s life so much simpler, to the tune of:

Yeah bro, I'm seeing/ sleeping with your ex, but she’d already gone out with this other guy so, I don’t think this counts as bad behavior and like I know this probably doesn't feel great and you're probably mad at me, but isn't it better if it's me and not some- Fuck, no, I am seriously not this crazy for her, I’m just… I can’t be…. I have to figure something out. That was fucked up, I had no real reason to do that but… but… jealousy. I cannot do that kind of shit again. Maybe after today... maybe it would be best, if I... just put a little more distance between us, if I really can't control myself, it might be best if I just stay away- No, that wasn't a solution, she wasn't doing that, it wasn't happening. She just needed... something.

Madaline began quietly sinking into a sense of shame and desperation, but then Amber was slipping her free hand into Madaline’s and Madaline found herself falling into the dark of her eyes.

“Hey, can we check out upstairs?”

“Ah, yeah, of course.”

And then they were moving, Madaline’s hand finding Amber’s back, headed up the staircase, Amber making it frighteningly easy for Madaline to forget about chastising herself.

2.

The upstairs was surprisingly, totally vacant as though it too had been waiting for them, so they took a table along the railing where they were able to see the entire expanse below, voices traveling upwards, conversations discernible if they chose to tune in. They left the volume down.

Amber took a sip of her drink, it rolled deliciously over her tongue; a little sugar, more spice, rich and tantalizing.

“How is it?”

“So yummy," Amber nodded, pinching the straw just lightly between her teeth.

“Yeah? Good.”

"This is the autumn bomb, right?"

"Great guess."

"Not really a guess, it tastes like an autumn bomb."

"Want to try mine?" She slid the cup over to Amber.

Amber picked up the cup and drank, it was the perfect temperature for a hot drink. "It's good," she slid Madaline's cup back. "But how do I describe that flavor? There's a hint of vanilla, but after that I've never had anything that tastes more like nothing but pure sugar and caffeine."

"I know what I like," Madaline said, her eyes locked on Amber as she sipped.

Amber set up the board, the tiles were black with white letters like Madaline's keyboard when it was off, “You’re good with Scrabble right?”

“Sure. It’s been a long time since I played.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Then Amber blind sided her, “I think… he… Henry, I mean, I think he was flirting with me.”

Madaline kept herself from snorting.

“I mean Ella says guys flirt with me sometimes…”

Madaline felt her hackles rise, but swallowed it. “It wouldn’t surprise me in the least. I would.” Too much, think about what you say before you say it, your brain is too loose right now, don’t let the speed make your mouth run away too, Madaline thought to herself, as though that dictum had not been violated long before now. Which was a fair point, the dictum had in fact long since been violated, but things can always get worse.

Amber laughed and looked away, her ears red. She looked back and shook her head, “You- You're such a..." She shook her head again and leaned forward, grinning, "But I mean… he was like really flirting with me. Right?”

Madaline sipped her drink. “Yes, he was, you’re beautiful Amber.”

“It’s the clothes.”

“Mmmm, no, according to Ella, people were flirting with you before now, it’s just that some people need their art framed before they notice its quality.”

Amber bit her lip, “I look good though?”

“You,” have no idea, “do.”

“Thanks…” Amber glowed, then became just a little cautious, “You didn’t like him did you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your vibe, I suppose, it was a little off. I don’t know, you weren’t angry, not exactly, just, didn’t like him.”

Madaline gave her a soft smile and shrugged, “Ah, well, I am Madaline the Misandrist. I can’t help it.”

Amber blinked at her, “Wait, what?”

“Madaline the Misandrist. You know the term?”

“Of course I know… it means hatred of men.”

“Exactly,” And from there Madaline was going, rocket taking off, chattering far too openly, gate gone down by way of benzodiazepine, her tongue dragged away by dextroamphetamine:

“Now, some friends of mine say that misandry isn’t a real thing, I’m not up on all their terminology, wasn’t my area of study, but I get the idea and I kind of agree with them, when it comes to sex and gender the system that hurts everyone is patriarchy, that’s the name of the game. Nowhere on this planet are women oppressing men the way men oppress woman, the standards that men get held to that hurt them and hurt us even more, you and me and our community, those are because of patriarchy, and misogyny is the thing that maintains it, But in another way I totally disagree with these friends of mine,” Madaline held up her hands, clicked her tongue and gave Amber an exceptionally wicked smirk, “ Systemic misandry might not be real, but me, as an individual, misandry is a good word for what I feel for ah… cis-het men specifically. Queer men, trans men, gay, bi, male gender fucks, ect, they’re fine, I don’t consider them in the same category as cis-het men. So I guess I’m a non-queer exclusive misandrist or however you want to say it.”

Amber laughed, “You’re- What, no you- no, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“No… you- You don’t like men?” Amber laughed in disbelief.

Madaline held up her finger.

“Sorry, you don’t like, I mean, I know you’re not attracted to them, but you just plain don’t like cis-het men?”

“I mean, do you?”

Amber gaped at her. “I’m… I’m dating your brother.”

About 16 responses rolled through Madaline’s head on a range of smart to bitter, and another 16 strolled the gamut of smartly bitter to bitterly smart, in the end she simply said, “Right, well-"

“And there’s Tom, you like Tom, you were talking with him about like drummers.”

“Ah,” Madaline waved her hand, "There's no way that guy hasn't kissed other boys, he is at least 20% bisexual.”

Amber shook her head, “And then there’s all the musicians you love, a lot of them, they’re- and not to mention some of the music you like is really...”

Madaline sipped from her cup. “The contents of some of the music I like is... complicated and another subject, but in regards to what we're actually talking about here, the musicians themselves, musicians get a pass.”

“Musicians get a pass?”

“My tolerance for problematic lyrics is based on a number of factors, but male cis- het musicians that make good music and don’t prove themselves absolute human garbage in their lives, looking at you Marilyn Manson, seriously fuck you, automatically make the list of good ones. I have a long list of such cases, which if I thought Tom was straight, he'd be on that list. That man is a teddy bear, love him, I don’t know what happened with Simon.”

Amber sighed, “I can’t tell if your joking or-”

"Right, listen, here's the situation, I was in a bar one time and had this drunk frat bro yell at me, something like: Hey lady Dimitrescu, step on me. Now what did I do? I flipped him off and went on with my night. I was in a good mood, but, while he didn't find anyone else tall enough to call Lady Dimitrescu, he did it again to two other women within a half hour."

"He did what?"

"Told them to step on him."

"Oh." Amber's tongue slid over her soft pallet, then across the upper right stretch of her teeth.

"Yeah, you know how some people are into that, it's popular, no shame there, but he was somewhere he... he was being incredibly obnoxious, to say the least."

"Right, so what... did you do?"

Madaline couldn't stop herself from smirking, she sipped her drink. "I took him outside and obliged him."

Amber's heart gave a couple of hard knocks in her chest, she pressed the cool cup between her palms. "Not... the way he wanted, I take it?"

"He might have enjoyed some of it."

"Okay," Amber said softly, "Did he... did you... I mean..." Amber looked down at the table for a moment, her eyes flickering, she looked back up at Madaline, "Was he alright?"

Estelle popped into Madaline's head: You shouldn't tell her stories like this, tales of wrestling competitions, boxing, martial arts, fine, but you have to think about the kind of thing she probably went through and what that means, you have to remember not all of those stories are fun for everyone the way they are for you. They could trigger her.

Madaline looked Amber over, once more checking her for signs of anxiety. Amber didn't look triggered, she looked captivated. Actually, did she seem a little- No, that made no sense and was definitely in Madaline's head.

"I'm sure he was fine by the next weekend, but he probably spent the week knowing he'd been stepped on."

"Well, that's... good," Amber nodded.

Madaline couldn't help but shrug, "My point is I don't walk around in a rage, wanting to scream in the face of every cis-het boy I see, I’m a peaceful person,” In Madaline’s head there was the sound of Estelle choking and sputtering. "Hatred might be a bit of a strong term, I didn’t make up the word, but unless they’re a phobro it’s not about hatred.” Okay, my mouth has officially taken off. Shut up before you do actually say something stupid that you can’t take back. “If I worked here, I wouldn’t spit in their coffee every chance I got... unless I was in a really bad mood. All it means is I, like many trans people, like many queer people, like many cis women, start off from a place of quite reasonable caution, plus an understanding of the reality that basicmales insisted on for hundreds of years.”

“Which is?” Amber asked, the Scrabble board between them forgotten.

Madaline drank. “That we’re not the same. That they are not one of us. That they are not in a family linked to ours. Not even close. Now, that said, they are free to transition or kiss some boys or they can learn to make some good music, or find some other way to prove themselves over time and I’ll bump them up into the whitelist. I can’t hate them all, Amber, who has the time? I mean, I have cis-het male friends that I love and respect, Tom like you said, and some of my favorite bar tenders and drug dealers are cis-het men. All it means is that those that aren’t on the whitelist get treated with a little extra hosti- caution. I make them jump through far fewer hoops than cis-het men have historically made us jump through, before they'd bother trying to keep their lunch down when they noticed one of us in public."

Amber opened and closed her mouth, “Well, yeah, I guess I can understand your logic, but how do you know Henry’s not bi or a trans man?”

Madaline drank and answered totally deadpan, “I can tell.”

“Okay, now you are messing with my head.”

“Fine, I’m being a bitch, I can’t always tell, but I've got a great radar for who is and who isn't community, or who is in a community that's with us and those that aren't. Besides if any kind of guy conducts himself in a way that really garners my attention, then it doesn't matter what kind of guy he is, there's a reason that attention has fallen on him and he deserves the distrust and depending on the situation, he deserves whatever way I respond to whatever he’s doing that’s put him in my cross hairs. Look it’s not a perfect system, it just works, but just because they’re not whitelisted doesn’t mean I’m going to cause trouble or treat them unfairly, that guy who wanted to be stepped on... among my preferred outcomes would have been him not being an obnoxious dick so I didn't notice him, right, first and foremost I am lazy, so I don't go out of my lane, unless they go out of theirs."

“Was Henry… getting out of his lane?”

Madaline jammed the emphatic affirmative in her throat back down, “I didn’t do anything, did I? Didn’t say anything either. I just didn’t care for him.”

“That’s… yeah… fair point." A new consideration grew into Amber's head, sprouting out of fertile soil that had been laid soon after she and Madaline had begun properly hanging out, and tended half blind ever since, "What about like... straight t... cis women, though, where do they fit in to this… whole deal?”

Madaline cocked her head at Amber, puzzled by the ask, trying to track back across her impromptu rant and see if she had missed something.

The truth was Madaline hadn't missed anything, the truth was she'd been very clear that cis woman, straight and otherwise were her sisters.

Madaline's discussion of the concept of community could be visualized as a series of interlocking circles, with only cis-het men's circle sitting elsewhere in her model.

Amber had noticed something of a vagueness or fluidity to the way Madaline threw around terms like community, depending on circumstances, it could mean Madaline's group of close associates ( a collection of affiliated queer women, enbys, and other assorted gender fucks) or it could mean trans people, or it could mean queer people, or it could mean all of the above, as well as any and all trans friendly straight-cis women. Borders erased and redrawn depending on the situation.

The topic of conversation was Madaline's "non-queer exclusive misandry" so it was obvious where straight-cis women lay within that framework.

But the reality was, Amber understood perfectly.

Rather what she'd asked was the result of catching and correcting herself in the middle of making a different inquiry: where do straight trans women fit in? Which she also knew the answer to, because even that had only been a cover for the thing she actually wanted to say: Bestie, where do I fit in?

Once more, the answer to that is obvious, she was in the same circle as Madaline, part of the trans community, but that's why she changed it, the very words felt ridiculous, not to mention too needy.

It is telling that Amber, in spite of hearing Madaline say "our community" multiple times in this rant alone, desired so badly to hear Madaline's direct verbal confirmation, that she was with Madaline, that Amber was not somehow outside (even though Amber often felt that way, especially when Madaline was gone)

Madaline could have easily provided that reassurance, but Amber doesn't ask, thus Madaline answers the question Amber gave her:

“What do you mean? They’re my sisters of course, the ones who see us as theirs anyway," Madaline’s tongue flickered over her lips. She could feel the line dropping down her brain stem into her vocal cords, as her higher functions screamed, Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. “I mean yeah, I prefer them to be lesbians, but everyone makes mistakes.”

Amber stared at her for a moment, uncertain how to take that.

Fuck, I've ruined everything.

For just a moment Amber worried at her lip, but then her face crinkled into mirth and her body shook with laughter.

Dizzy relief flowed through Madaline's blood.

“Alright, alright," Amber said, settling down, "I understand your principle, it’s… reasonable from that perspective, I see what you mean, but… now you’re just leaning in.”

“Maybe a little,” Madaline said, planting a wry smile on her face, smarting up and accepting the out that Amber had provided her. “Scrabble?” She asked, waving her hands at the board. Would it be leaning in to say that I want to fuck you in a very homosexual way, preferably right now.

“Sure,” Amber responded, dealing out tiles, shoving down the concern that had at last crystallized into something to be articulated.

Why worry about where she lay in Madaline's model, she wasn't a man and more importantly, she was Madaline's bestie, they were together today, right now, that was what was most important, that was the best.

3.

They each pulled a tile from the bag to see who went first, Madaline won.

“I warn you I can be a little competitive,” said Madaline, her rack containing: M-T-I-L-E-G-N

“Like I said, I haven’t played in a while so I shouldn’t be too much trouble for you.” Amber moved her tiles around, working out possible moves.

Madaline watched her, Satan save me, she’s so gorgeous…

Such admiration was a good reason for why the first word Madaline played was TILE instead of MELTING which she only realized as she watched Amber play six letters on top of hers.

Madaline looked at the word: UBEROUS

She frowned, “No way. That’s not a real word.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s old, but it’s a word.”

“What’s it mean?”

“Bountiful, yielding an abundance,” Amber said, self assured.

“Use it in a sentence.”

“The uberous cow produced milk every day without fail.”

Madaline cocked her head down to look at Amber’s chest.

“Madaline!” Amber giggled.

“Hey, you played the word, you put it in the sentence you did. Is it my fault I’m a sleaze who thinks of that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m also not sure who else’s fault it might be, you know.”

“Alright fine if you insist,” Madaline groaned, yanking her eyes, somewhat reluctantly from the sight of Amber’s breasts and studied her tile rack more carefully this time. Seriously stop it with the thirsty bitch impression: Bestie, bestie, bestie. She sang the song of sublimation as the image of Amber dancing along in a slutty cow print outfit flashed through her head, but then she saw…

“Ah.” Madaline played: MUNGING

Amber looked over the word, thought for a moment, “Now, that, I'm fairly certain isn't a word, Madaline.”

“Yes it is, princess, it’s as valid a word as booberous." Madaline's left cheek was raised to a sharp point.

Amber snorted and covered her mouth.

Madaline watched her, pleased by how at ease she was. She really was just glowing today

“Okay-” Amber snorted again, “Okay, what’s it mean?”

“It’s a term for corrupting data.”

Amber threw up her hands, “You took my word for… booberous,” she began laughing from her belly once more, “So I’ll take your word for this.”

Full Disclosure: Neither of the last two words played would be counted by the Scrabble Ruling Body, arguably Amber had more grounds as uberous was in a proper dictionary, while Madaline’s could only be found in a compendium of hacker slang. Across their game several words would be played that Scrabble would not recognize, slang on Madaline’s part and the archaic/obscure on Amber’s, neither of them bothered consulting anything other than each other, almost like by being alone together they had by instinct agreed that even if it went against the official rules, they were now playing by their own.

Amber was considering her rack.

Okay, so I hit her with it twice now, I wonder if I can do it again, rule of threes and all and this doesn't count as heavy flirting right, at this point it's a psychological warfare tactic, Madaline thought.

“By the way princess, I wanted to let you know, upon inspection a couple minutes ago, I did notice that your body is trending more booberous over all.”

Madaline smirked as Amber broke back into laughter,

“Madaline stop. You… you are such a-” Amber quit laughing, but kept showing all her teeth, dropping five letters building out from the second U in UBEROUS, “VULGAR tart.” She grinned smugly, securing a 2x points square for the word.

Madaline dropped three letters, F-A-R around the I in MUNGING and winked.

Amber refilled the rack and instantly threw down: T-R-A-J-E-C onto TILE to make TRAJECTILE.

It was then that Madaline really thought about Amber’s major and all the books she’d read, concluding, Okay, I'm going to need to think of some new jokes to distract her, cause she is going to wipe the fucking floor with me.

So it came to pass that Amber proceeded to wipe the fucking floor with Madaline, but Madaline given the rules they were playing under didn’t go without a struggle.

The game at last ended with the word: END, giving Madaline a total of 210 points and Amber with:

“306,” Amber crowed, “I win, ha, kneel before me vassal.”

Madaline chewed her lip, and couldn’t resist. “You won, princess, I concede. You bested me in honorable sport or whatever I’m supposed to say.”

Then she was kneeling, one knee up, one planted against the floor, her eyes slightly down. She looked at the shape of Amber's calf, and imagined starting at her ankle and kissing her way up to her thighs, her belly, her breasts, her face. The hand over Madaline's knee gave a single shake.

Amber looked down, unable to stop smiling, “What are you doing?”

“Pledging myself to you,” I’m exhausted and took the wrong combination of drugs for hanging out with you.

Madaline slipped Amber’s hand into hers and at least managed to not caress her. “I’m a bitch who slays so if you’ve got a problem with a dragon you can count on me.”

“Oh, um... so… so you’re a knight now?”

“Always was, if I’m a queen, I’m a war queen… What’s the female equivalent to sir? Is it mistress?”

“Ah, it’s Dame.”

“Yeah, Dame, I’m Dame Madaline the badass, princess. Humbly forever at your service.” Madaline adjusted her line of sight just slightly, from this angle Amber's eyes were absolutely black.

A slew of other knightly dialogue ran through Madaline’s mind, What would you say to uniting our kingdoms, or Even if I’m already holding it, I’ll duel my brother for your hand and the perfectly romantic and courtly (not to mention chaste and platonic) I know I’m not supposed to but I really want to sit between you and the family throne while you ride my gock.

Amber looked away, Madaline's eyes leaving traces of green in her vision when she did, she looked back and bit her lip, “I’ll let you know if… I see... something... a dragon that I need help with." Her words grew to a mutter.

Looking down at Madaline for once was such a strange perspective, it had an odd effect; warm spirals of pleasure, turning, swirling, expanding through her body, her fingertips tingling with the desire to touch Madaline's face once more.

Their eyes locked and held at the same time, captured by one another, both their mouths hanging slightly open. Madaline's eyes burning, projecting emerald heat, casting it outwards; Amber's eyes like collapsed stars, endlessly drawing that luminescence in past an event horizon and swallowing it up

Amber broke the state. Madaline watched her shudder with humor and smiled.

"Will you get u- Rise Dame Madaline the ridiculous... I can’t take it.”

Madaline smiled. After a moment she managed to free Amber’s hand, standing back up and taking her seat.

They sat with the scatterings of their game across the table, drinking coffee and talking, as they tended to, enjoying each other’s company.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve got to say, that trick you pulled at the doctor’s was something else, never had anyone try that strategy before?”

“Um, trick I pulled? You mean...”

“Switching up your voice like that, didn’t know you had that talent. Where’d that come from?”

Amber looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment and Madaline was about to draw the subject back, when Amber relaxed. “It’s just like, another voice I kind of… developed during voice training, it was a good prototype, you know… It’s um... switching into it is useful for getting someone’s attention.”

“A prototype?” Madaline asked with significant interest.

“Yeah, like when I was voice training, that was the first female voice I landed on, but it… then I moved from that to this one… Do you like it?”

“Yeah I do, it’s... cool.”

Amber’s eyes bounced around slightly, before carefully asking, “Do… you prefer it… to this one.”

“Well it’s not really- I haven’t heard very much of it. Let me hear it again.”

Amber seemed to consider something, then “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, something. Come on, let me hear it and I’ll do dumb stoner guy for you.”

Amber looked around, almost checking to see if anyone was watching, “Booberous,” flowed from Amber’s mouth like silk across water.

Madaline hid a shiver. “Goddamn,”before beginning to giggle.

“What?” Amber asked, abruptly returning to her standard manner.

“Nothing, it just, it kind of makes the word sexy.”

Amber turned red. She shook her head, a little perturbed, “So you… do like it more?”

“Ah, it’s enjoyable, but you’re enjoyable, so it’s like kind of… being surprised, learning something new about you, like hearing a song your familiar with in a different key, that’s really what it is, it’s different, it’s sexy, but your regular voice is super cute, always makes me want to-” Madaline came to a hard stop.

“Makes you want to what?” Amber asked.

Madaline shook her head, scrambling desperately for an honest answer that she could use, “Like cuddle with you, watch more anime.”

“Awww,” Amber said.

“Anyway, they’re both good, honestly more than anything I’m wowed by the comparison and how easily you switch. Christ, I thought I was talented but you must have a hell of a range.”

“Thanks Madaline,” Amber glanced around once more, gratefully this allowed Madaline to brace herself for what was coming, the sudden flip of Amber’s voice back to the dark side, “But I think you promised me dumb stoner guy.”

Madaline twitched and put up her hands in allowance for the demand, “Hey man...”

In the other circumstances the conversation might have caused Amber to at least feel terribly self conscious, but here in this place, with Serpentine absent from her thoughts, Madaline had helped turn the voice into a toy for them both to enjoy. Amber knew this sense of ease with the prototype probably wouldn’t last beyond these walls or else it would vanish the next time Serpentine had something to say, but for the moment all was well and Amber was enjoying herself too much, laughing at Madaline’s stoner parody, looking at Madaline’s eyes, to worry about that right now.

It seemed they’d been surrounded by a web of magic, a pregnant unreality, where they felt for the most part separated from the rest of the world.

If Amber had thought things through or perhaps had a little more experience for context, she might have realized that her feelings were very similar to someone's who was having a wonderful time skating closer and closer to a romantic dalliance, but other psychological factors aside, Amber did not have that experience, thus all she really knew was that the last couple of hours from driving Madaline’s car, to the game, even the discussion on the voice’s origin and Madaline’s expression of vigilance around cis-het men, it all felt magical.

All she knew was that Madaline was magical, she exuded it, so to be here with her, it truly felt like a reward for how well she had performed today. That sense of magic surrounded Amber, made her feel connected to it, a part of it.

But then the web of isolation broke, the magic surrounding Amber fell away, a cold bucket of water to Amber’s brain that she could not have anticipated.

Yes, Madaline was magical, but what occurred was a sharp reminder of two things: Madaline was a visitor in her daily life and Amber was herself a visitor to the state of magic which Madaline was naturally a part of.

From below someone exuberantly yelled, “Maddy!”

Out of nowhere, a wild member of the community appeared.

4.

Amber jolted at the yell, then looked over the railing across the space to watch a woman bang her shoes up the steps as fast as she could go.

Madaline stood and wheeled around to catch the interloper rocketing towards her.

Part of Amber, shocked out of her good time reveling in Madaline’s presence and how well this day was going, actually felt a little bad for this mysterious figure. It was that part of Amber that was responsible for the thought, Oh no, honey, sorry, you can’t just call her Maddy. Madaline hates being called Maddy, you must not know her all that well.

Madaline laughed, “Spacecase! Hey girl.”

The Spacecase slammed into Madaline, who immediately crisscrossed her arms over the smaller figure, Madaline’s chin coming to rest on the top of her head.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” the woman said with her face shamelessly burrowed into Madaline's chest.

“It’s been like two weeks, Rikka,” Madaline responded, shaking her head, a big smile on her face.

“Really? Well, what’s time anyway?”

It’s the indefinite and continuous system by which we measure the progression of events within existence. It’s also best to keep track of it, not that it’s my business but that hug seems to be lasting a little long, why not pull your face out of her breasts if you’re going to have a conversation, Amber thought.

The embrace continued, Amber found it weirdly disorienting, she’d never seen it from the outside, not… not with another girl, just that one time with Simon which wasn’t the same. When it still kept going, a new thought occurred, a variation on a theme:

She… she really can’t just like plow into Madaline out of nowhere and hug her... like that, she finished helplessly.

The thought was odd, Amber puzzled over it, trying to work out just why Rikka couldn’t do that, Madaline was a very tactile person, it didn’t make sense that she wouldn't hug someone that she had affection for, which, clearly, Madaline did.

Amber didn’t get much time to work that out, because at last the hug ended and just as Amber experienced a strange ripple of relief, Rikka leaned back slightly in Madaline's arms, got on her toes and pressed her lips to Madaline’s.

It wasn’t exactly making out, but it also wasn’t exactly a picture of purity devoid of passion either. It sent Amber’s mind blank, until at last: No, see, but you- She, you can’t just- Fine. Hugging is one thing, but- People can’t just... like... run up and kiss Madaline… cause… I mean… you can’t do that… Madaline wasn't pulling away, she wasn't bothered or even surprised, But, like, like people can’t do that, Amber’s mind insisted, If that’s allowed then… then...

Amber’s brain tried to right itself, searching for a speck of equilibrium. She’d heard of the idea of time freezing while kissing someone, it had never happened with her and Simon, but she’d heard of it, what she hadn’t heard of though was time freezing or going awfully slow while watching someone else kiss.

Maybe she’s like one of Madaline’s friends from Europe and that’s just how they... But the kiss was too deep and going on too long, so, no, this didn’t seem to be that...

Which left two possibilities, Amber's brain latched on to the less complex of the ideas, she really didn’t want to think about the other one.

This is her girlfriend, Madaline has a girlfriend whose name is Rikka and, Madaline’s mentioned a Rikka before in passing, like once or twice, but she’s certainly never mentioned her before in a way that means that they’re dating, but… this, that has to be it, because if anyone is just allowed to run up and kiss Madaline like that… then… then… then I... Then Madaline would never get anything done, because people would just be kissing her all the time.

That idea generated such a huge mess of feelings it nearly turned her brain inside out, unwilling to deal with all the potential implications of it, she centered back on what seemed the easiest possible conclusion:

Cause really, didn’t it make sense? That Madaline had a girlfriend? Of course it did, why wouldn’t Madaline have a girlfriend? A partner. Madaline was after all a Godd- Popular! Yes of course, it made perfect sense, intelligent, charming, vivacious, talented, stunningly gorgeous Madaline Mellor was incredibly popular, the real question was how could Amber have believed Madaline didn’t have a girlfriend?

Amber watched Rikka and Madaline pull apart, Rikka’s lips shining with a touch of Madaline’s saliva.

This is Madaline’s girlfriend. Amber thought to herself repeatedly trying to ground the fact in her head so that she might get normal and introduce herself if Rikka noticed her.

They were chatting now.

“Heard you went off with Nance and Zuri the other night,” said Rikka at last undocking from Madaline’s arms and stepping a half step back.

“Right, yeah, I did,” said Madaline, trailing her fingers through her hair.

“Naughty, naughty,” Rikka wagged her finger at Madaline. “Spending time with dangerous girls and their dangerous toys.”

“I was only out there for a few hours, just catching up. Why, you looking for an invite?”

Rikka shook her head, “Nah, not really, I love em for the stuff they do for everybody, but I don't think I'd ever want to like go out to their place, the Maggies they’re just so on all the time… It’s stressful.”

Madaline leaned towards Rikka, “In that case, be respectful, they’re not on all the time, they’re on a lot of the time and in shifts, and you should be grateful for that, it’s because of trannies like them that cute little stoner bitches like you don’t have to think too much about the stuff that they think about when they’re on, which lets you concentrate on getting high and dancing instead.” Madaline reached out and flicked a lock of hair from Rikka’s face.

Rikka giggled.

“Speaking of which, did you just wake up?” Madaline asked.

“Yeah, little bit ago,” Rikka showed off her cup, “Just stopping in for a pick me up.”

“Uh-huh, you know what else you could have picked up today?”

Rikka looked curious, then tittered, “My phone?”

“Your phone. Cam didn’t pick up either, but they got back to me over an hour ago.”

Rikka checked her phone, “Oh wow, yeah, “I’m sorry, I was so tired, Maddy,” she stretched both tired and Maddy in a cute, over the top whine.

“Tired right, more like wake, bake and go back to bed and not wake up when your phone was ringing,” Madaline teased.

“Ughh, like I said, I was tired.” She held up her fingers in a heart, “I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you I swear, did you get to your appointment?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Madaline poked her finger through Rikka’s makeshift heart to tap the end of the woman's nose, making her squirm happily.

This is Madaline’s girlfriend. Amber repeated to herself, except the more she said it, the more it became, This? Is Madaline’s girlfriend?

She looked Rikka over, she was very pretty, like all women, a button nose, sweet eyes that were very bloodshot, a sensual mouth, brown hair cut with streaks of purple, dressed in jeans, a wrinkled T-shirt that read ABC MAFIA, under a forest green jacket that was just a little too big on her, a slouch hat sat on her head with a circular pin of the trans pride flag, proud and out in the open, featuring a blot that looked an awful lot like a hand giving the middle finger.

The way she spoke was airy, slow and vapid, which would burst now and then into flights of cheer or moans of over the top exasperation or regret. Valley girl, cut with a transitioned version of Madaline’s stoner impression, almost like by invoking it earlier, Madaline had accidentally summoned her.

The thing was Amber knew, as everybody surely did, that of course no one was cool enough for Madaline, that just came with the territory, but this girl, who was once again very attractive and seemed... nice enough, but, just, no, not really, this could not be Madaline’s girlfriend. Like, no. No. Just no.

“So who took you?” Rikka asked.

Amber struggled between the reality of them kissing and the idea that Rikka just didn’t fit in the empty silhouetted spot in her head that now stood in for the concept of Madaline’s partner.

“Ah,” Madaline waved her hand, turning towards Amber, directing Rikka’s attention.

Rikka’s hand clapped over her mouth, noticing Amber's existence for the first time, “Oh fuck, oh god, I’m so sorry to just like… jump in here.”

“It’s, um, it’s fine,” Amber smiled, “I’m Amber.” It’s really alright, now go away. No… no… if this is Madaline’s girlfriend… really? Really? No stop, just- If this is Madaline’s girlfriend or just a friend, I need to make sure I make a good impression. A pulse of anxiety writhed within her. It’s okay, I drove Madaline’s car today. I did great and I helped her with the blood, I did that and… she’s just one person and she doesn’t… she doesn’t seem like she’ll be hard to be on good terms with. So just be nice, be agreeable, give away as little information about yourself as possible. She isn’t here for me anyway... She's here for Madaline.

“Amber? Amber… Amber?” Rikka considered, scratching at her head through her hat, her eyes rolling up slightly in thought, not looking inclined to vacate the area despite acknowledging the disturbance she'd caused. “I’m sorry, I’m so bad with names and faces.”

“You’ve never met her,” Madaline said.

“Oh, good, I didn’t forget then.” She peered at Amber for a moment, her face sprang into a huge smile, “Oh wow, really… but, are you like... I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you either, are you new?”

New? New to what? What does that even mean? Whatever, best to be safe.

“Yeah, um, I suppose I am. I love your hat,” said Amber. This was true, it was a lovely hat.

“Oh, thanks, it’s a classic,” Rikka laughed. “But like, you’re new and… wow, you’re on blood duty? Damn.” She looked back and forth between Amber and Madaline, smiling. “Well, if you don’t know yet, the rewards are definitely worth the drive.”

Amber nodded and gave the remains of her drink a little shake, “I’m having a very good time.” Was. Would like that to resume.

Rikka laughed and looked back and forth between Amber and Madaline again.

Madaline on the other hand now appeared just slightly irked.

“Oh, right, I need to talk to you about-” Rikka stopped and looked back to Amber, “Ah, like I said sorry to just come running into your day here, but do you mind if I steal her attention for like just a couple minutes.”

Yes. Amber smiled, “No, not at all, that’s perfectly fine, Rikka.”

“Thanks… ah…”

“Amber,” Amber reminded her.

“Amber, right, sorry, I’ll get it, I’ll get it… Wow, you are just so hot by the way.”

Amber's blood warmed just a little at this, but not enough to effect the mildly chilly thought that wound its way through her head, Wow, you are just obviously such a featherbrained simple minded slattern. “Um. Thank you, Rikka, I appreciate it.” Amber laughed.

“You’re welcome.”

Go away- No, I don’t know why, I keep getting, she’s being very nice, I should be happy I’m getting to meet Madaline’s friends, besides, we’re just having coffee and playing games, it’s not like this was a date or something like that… that would make her running up here and interrupting and kissing Madaline…. Weird, it’s just- And if she is Madaline’s girlfriend… I really don’t think she is… cause they just don’t seem... and she’s just… but that kiss...

Madaline retook her seat, which provided Amber a small amount of relief, it left Madaline in a sense with Amber, while Rikka continued to stand, meaning she would, hopefully, not be staying much longer. The act also canceled out an image that had been flickering in Amber's head, one she didn't want to acknowledge, the image of Rikka and Madaline wandering off together, leaving Amber behind, and not coming back.

“So, what did you have to chat with me about, Spacecase?”

“Oh, yeah, ah, me and Raven threw together some cash and we got-” her speech halted.

In the moment Amber felt like Rikka glanced at her, but upon further appraisal of the situation later she would actually remember reality, Rikka didn’t really look at Amber, but rather around, down off the balcony at all the people below, then Rikka looked back to Madaline, "Want to gum shoe?"

Madaline said nothing, but shrugged at her, turned her hand upside down, left her hand open and knocked her knuckles three times against the table.

From there a barrier was erected between Amber and their conversation, a partial lockout, a wall made of words, meaning obscured. Nothing else had ever made the veil between Amber and what Madaline did when she went out on Friday feel more real.

Madaline had a tendency to occasionally use slang that Amber was uncertain of, terms that Amber would have to work her way around by context.

Ones that she was fairly certain she'd worked out and felt safe using if she cared to, included: Egg, hatch, crack, enby, the butch to futch spectrum, phobro, dull, boymode, malefail.

But then there were other terms, one's that Amber was still trying to work her way towards certainty on, they included, but were not limited to: Peasants, sud, en drab, wart, ally cat, pillow girl, badgers, pickme t, blanket case, taggy.

All were used in ways that made even the ones that were otherwise ordinary terms feel odd and uncanny and she certainly wasn't going to ask Madaline what they meant when Madaline so clearly assumed she knew.

The thing was, the instances where these and others were used weren’t terribly common, most were just thrown in here and there, she'd gone a week without having to stop and try to work out any meanings or to try to look it up in her dictionary which usually proved less than illuminating, but now she was listening to Madaline talk to someone who did not have to try to catch up, who understood all of her slang perfectly, who could spin it back to her and accurately expect Madaline to understand.

Thus the wall came down:

“So me, Raven and Louisa got a good vein on something special so we're putting together a little multicellular to start the summer right," Rikka began.

“Little early, but yeah, very cool. How multicellular? What's the point WW? ” Madaline responded.

“This foxy delta at Deadhaus,” Rikka grinned, “It’s opening back up, Louisa’s apple tree is going to be gone all summer, so it’s ours, we figure it’ll be a 1.5 to 2.5.”

To Amber’s surprise Rikka turned to her, she stuck out her thumb and forefinger and wiggled them at her as though Amber not only understood but was included, “Trip phoning.” Rikka nodded her head and gave Amber a big enthusiastic grin, wiggling her eyebrows "Hm? Hm? Yeah?"

Amber nodded and tipped her head down, looking at the scramble of Scrabble letters, it felt like a great symbol for this experience; the analytical part of her brain now faced with this dense use of their vernacular was honestly a little mesmerized, actually interrupting it aside, the feel of it was so odd; an argot that had overtones of theatrical and militaristic elements.

Madaline’s fingers curled and uncurled at the notion of trip phoning, her face going from curious to very curious, almost excited, “Vivid, what kind of trip phoning?”

“Guess.”

“Guess, huh. You are a silly thing.” Madaline tapped her chin and gave Rikka a mean little smirk. “Natty Atomics from outside fort terminal?”

“Eww, does it seem like I’m still in High School? Come on.”

“Let’s see, maybe something out of the Ceecee family or ajax or, no, is it finally the legendary Dommy Mommy Thickness you still owe me?”

Rikka looked affronted, “What. No. It wasn’t my fault, you said not to worry about it.” Rikka turned back to Amber and insisted to her, “ She’s being a bitch. It wasn’t my fault. It really wasn’t.”

Amber looked at Madaline, she had the slightest curve of a grin on her face, and she hadn’t cracked anything in irritation so, “I’m sure… it wasn’t your fault, Rikka,” Amber reassured her.

This was, in fact, a bold faced lie, at this point Amber felt fairly certain that everything that had ever gone wrong in the world ever, up to and including the Black Plague was in fact Rikka’s fault.

“Alright, alright, it wasn’t your fault, I’m just teasing you.” Madaline laughed, “No you don’t owe me, it was a beta test, the beta test failed, that’s why we each only slivered up what we did. Relax, mika charlene, quit being a coy little bitch and tell me who you’ve got.”

Rikka grinned, “High end, looking sexy darling.”

“Oh, Madaline said, her fingers curling and uncurling, “She must be a really special lady for you to make a whole thing about clearing me, haven’t seen really high end in awhile, last I found stateside was our friend from Chicago who wasn’t so kind. Is she kind?”

“Me and Raven each bought a ticket out at the Dub Brothers Ajax a few days ago, I’m telling you Maddy, we’re talking a total gentle giant.”

“Nice,” Madaline licked her lips.

“Mmmhmm, I assume you’re coming.”

“Definitely, what time you thinking the ride starts?”

“We’re thinking about six dark, she lasts so we’ll have all night, and we have the place, so the next delta is no worry. We’re taking reservations and doing a punch bowl.”

“Very cool, very 60s, very classy. I’ll have to talk to work, tell em I’ll be unavailable early and that they won’t be able to call me about anything the day after, but yeah… yeah, this sounds good. It'll be nice chilling around Deadhaus with everyone for a bit. Who's enlisted? You talk to E?”

“Estelle and Meg are both coming. So are Cameron and Ophelia and Em-”

“Em? She’s not bringing her wart is she?”

Rikka smirked, “Why Maddy, would that be a little awkward for you?”

Madaline smiled softly and shook her head, “No, of course not. It would be awkward for him.”

If the idea bothered Rikka she didn’t show it, she just gave Madaline a dopey smile, “You’re bad,” she turned to Amber, pointing to Madaline, “She’s bad. Sooooo bad. Total bitty DK.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Madaline said.

“Taggy cents, Maddy, you're always running around fucking with the warts, terrorizing them, any chance you get. Sneaking into slumming royal’s rooms.”

Madaline glanced quickly at Amber, then away and gave Rikka the finger, “I have never done that and never would, I only go where I have an invitation.”

“Alright, fair, it’s the sneaking out that’s the real problem, right,” Rikka snarked.

“Rikka…” Madaline ran her hand through her hair, appearing half annoyed but also half amused, “Come on, my reputation in this is so overblown and not helped by you fucking slandering me,” Madaline waved her hand, “And terrorizing the warts... is a very strong term, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh yeah, Maddy, what would you say?”

Madaline smiled, shrugged and gave a little sigh, “I guess the same thing I’ve always said, Spacecase,” she reached out and jammed her finger into Rikka’s side just hard enough to tickle her. “She who makes a beast out of herself gets-”

“Rid of the pain of being a man,” Amber finished without intending to.

Madaline looked at her in surprise.

“It’s… a quote by Samuel Johnson.”

“I heard it in Avenged Sevenfold, I’ll take your word for the origins though, but I usually say it as she who makes a beast out of herself gets rid of the pain of being assigned male at birth. More affirming, less gender binary reinforcing.” She turned back to Rikka, “So Em’s wart isn’t invited?”

“Of course not, Deadhaus,” Rikka popped her lips, “Actually, someone said she served him the bad papers.”

“Joy to the world, of course that’s coming from you.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, it’s coming from you, and you, my little Spacecase,” Madaline reached up and tapped Rikka on the nose again, somehow appearing taller than her even while she was sitting down. “Are an incurable gossip.”

Rikka turned back to Amber and once more insisted, “I am not.”

Amber didn’t get a chance to respond.

“Where did you hear that about Emily?” Madaline asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“Well, good for her if so, but I’m going to take that with a grain of salt. Who else?”

Okay, it’s a party, Amber thought, They’re planning some kind of special party, if Madaline has to call to work and tell them she's going to be unavailable early... she might be leaving early, so it's probably Friday. Amber glanced at the art on the walls and fixated on a bird sitting quietly in a cage.

“Mmm Fernanda and Riley, Aiesha, Imani, Jenna probably, she settled but said she might be busy, ah ... Lilith… um Xuan… I think there's two or three camos tagging along... um... I don’t know, I don’t have a fucking sucker book, Maddy. 1.5 to 2.5.”

“Alright cool, ” Madaline reached into her jacket, “You want me to sliver up now?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

"Artisanal, " Madaline pulled out her fold of bills

“Jee-zus, Domfedora,” Rikka exclaimed, “What are you up to that you have the national debt in your pocket.”

Amber looked back to them, What does that even mean, you dumb- That’s not how the national debt works, it isn’t some amount of money.... sliver up, sliver... synonym for chip, like chip in, and an anagram for silver... cute, but the national debt still isn't some amount of money someone has on them- Wait, did she imply she would still be with them the day after, she’s going to be gone even longer? Amber fumed invisibly, just sitting and smiling.

Neither of them were paying any attention to her, they'd locked her out. Amber's heart seemed to twist and squirm in her chest. She glanced down at the table, at the remains of the exploded alphabet before her, her eyes immediately lighting on three tiles, she swept them up, letting them tumble down into her sleeve, then stuck the sleeve end in her pocket. A consolation prize, nine points, if it was accepted, it wouldn't be, it's not a word, it's a sound... I shouldn't have done that... I shouldn't have- Too late. Mine. At that thought her body lit with the tiniest of pleasures for a moment, before she shoved the awareness of the game pieces she'd stolen down.

If she let herself think about it she might get anxious about being caught and then put them back. Madaline wouldn't care, but she and Rikka hadn't noticed, and if they hadn't noticed, then no one would know, and if no one knew then it didn't matter. It was a small thing, she could even make herself forget, except for when she wanted to remember.

“I rob banks of course, call me Jane Dillinger, I’ll die for your sins.” Madaline joked in response to Rikka's question, then looked thoughtful for a moment. “How much did you guys get? Can you spare any extra.”

“Ah we got 2 square miles.”

“Can you spare two extra yards, plus three inches for the multi?”

“You gonna ride all that at Deadhaus?”

Madaline laughed, “No, are you crazy, do I seem like I'm in high school. The three for this multicellular, the two yards for a rainy day, she keeps.”

“Um, yeah, absolutely.”

Good they’ve come to an agreement about whatever, now maybe she’ll go away.”

“What about... amenities? Commissary?” Madaline asked, not paying Rikka yet.

“We got boots on commissary and stuff already. Can you bring that sound system of yours?”

“Sorry, it’s in storage and I don’t have time to get it before call time, but last time I was at Deadhaus they had a nice old sound system in the basement, I'll check with Louisa, if it's still there we can bring that up, we won’t have to go without. So what else can I contribute... You said Lilith and Ophelia are in, right?"

Rikka nodded.

"I can bring a few emergency Kali reapers in case someone gets stage fright, but I need a few left over for my next round of blood work… you know what fuck it, how about I just buy a couple kits of dandy, I'll roll it all up, we’ll set up like a gratuity system . Sexy makes queers smoke like chimneys, so less pocket bleed for everyone, less chance of a piece getting broke too. ”

“Wow. If you do that I’ll just get you for the yards, heck, I’ll let you have them at laces. ”

“Cool, cool. Is that Z four Z or Z five Z ?”

“Z five Z. Sorry, have to bust Broadway to do it again."

“No, no I get it,” Madaline counted out four twenties and passed them over .

“Thank you,” Rikka stuffed the cash in her shirt, took out her phone and texted for a minute.

Amber heard the sound of Madaline’s phone buzzing.

Rikka glanced back at Amber, “Wait, what about your girl?”

A sun burst lit up the inside of Amber's chest, a bliss so overwhelming she wanted to roll into a ball and clutch it to herself forever so it couldn't escape. One thing was certain to Amber now, Rikka was clearly responsible for all the best things that had ever happened in the history of the world, up to and including the cure to Polio.

Madaline licked her lips, “She’s not available, unfortunately," she said simply.

The sunburst was nice while it lasted.

Amber almost cut in with, that she actually was available to go to whatever this was and do whatever they were doing before reminding herself that Madaline was absolutely correct, there was no way Simon would let her go out with Madaline normally, much less be gone the entire night. At minimum.

“Damn, that sucks, you’ll have to come to the next one… like I said the vein is good and Deadhaus is ours, so we should be doing this a bunch this summer,” she looked Amber over. “You seem a little tense all of a sudden.”

Oh no. Amber thought. She forced her body to loosen up, she was still smiling but she’d been rigid ever since the realization that Madaline might be gone even longer this week.

“It’s nothing, I’m good.” She really had to watch that, she shouldn't have slipped so easily. This was her first impression amongst Madaline’s friends and… well actually… How likely was Rikka to remember? Madaline called her Spacecase, and Rikka had almost immediately forgotten her name, so that made it seem like it might not be too much of an issue.

“Huh,” Rikka said, “Well don’t worry about a thing, she is so much fun and she’ll take good care of you.”

“You’re making assumptions, Rikka,” Madaline said, pulling a finger till it cracked.

“Actually, yeah, what am I even saying, you took her to blood work, so clearly you know. Anyway, see you delta oscar, Maddy. Bye Amber.”

In the moment Amber took the concept of Madaline taking care of her at face value, and accepted it as that which Madaline already did, which, if it must be said, was not what Rikka meant, but to Amber the real important detail was: Thank you for at least inviting me, but begone. “Bye Rikka it was so nice meeting you, hope you have a good day, honey.”

Rikka giggled and waved, “Hope to see you some time soon. Enjoy your date.”

“Rikka," Madaline groaned.

“What?” Rikka said, as she pranced away.

“This is not that- It’s not a date, do you get-, do not go telling people it is.”

“Okay, yeah sure. Not a date, gotcha,” Rikka said in a way that made it very clear she did not believe a word Madaline was saying.

But then at last she was gone.

Amber was speechless, the line had been like Rikka had reached out with a hammer and broken a sensitive instrument in Amber's brain, but at least now she had the confirmation that in spite of the kiss, Rikka was not Madaline's girlfriend. Amber couldn't deal with considering what exactly that meant right now.

Madaline held the bridge of her nose, drew in a deep breath and let it go.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, she seems nice…” Amber pursed her lips, “She thought we were on a date,” she laughed.

“Well, you do look very datable.”

Amber grew warm, “She, um, kissed you.” She started to pick up the remains of their Scrabble game.

“Yeah, she’s very friendly and she's a gossip. A total sweetheart, but such a fucking gossip and if she's setting this thing up, she's going to be running around telling everyone about this, by the time she's done we'll have been married since February and this meeting will have included a giant squid."

Amber’s heart thumped hard in her chest at Madaline’s casual declaration. “Um- Oh.” Amber forced herself to laugh. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Half won’t believe her, it’s still going to be such a pain to clear this up.”

Amber felt like her brain had been extracted and someone had replaced it with a big fluffy cloud, “Clear what up?”

Madaline looked at her, “That… we’re not married and there was… no giant squid.”

“Oh yeah, of course, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Madaline chewed her lip. "How much of that did you get?" Madaline had never had to think before about Amber's lack of exposure to South Providence's particular brand of queer slang, because she'd had no reason to ever use a great deal of it around her. She has this realization, but Madaline being Madaline, still misses the fact that Amber has major holes in her knowledge of broader common North American queer terminology.

Amber blushed, swallowed, "Some," she mumbled, unable to look Madaline in the eye. "Somebody's throwing a party, you're going."

"We are, I am."

"Does everyone going to this party talk... like that?"

"Gum shoe. Some one called it gum shoe and it stuck. It's from a military term for cryptography, we just go backwards, IRL encryption, right, its like gumming things up and, ah, not usually, some terms get thrown around more than others, but mostly we only use it like that when the occasion calls for it, most of us anyway, and most people know at least a good chunk, what's needed. It's mostly for when ah," she waved a hand off the railing, "Peasants and dulls and potentially taggy civs are nearby."

Will you teach me?\ Amber thought. "Taggy... suspicious." she said. "Neat."

There's this trick me and my Swedish friends used to use to trade pronunciation lessons, Madaline thought. "That's right. Rikka's a gossip, she's got a taggy mouth. A bunch of it is contextual and it changes, but you pick it up in bits and pieces when you're around it for a bit, once you've got an alright base it's not hard to fill in. I don't think so anyway."

Madaline shook her head, "Anyway, want to play some pinball or something, princess?"

Amber nodded, "Sure." They picked up their cups and headed downstairs.

Over the flashing lights and electronic sounds, Amber couldn't help but fumble over the contradiction between what she saw as reality and the fact of Rikka kissing Madaline. She watched it over and over in her mind's eye, two thoughts careening off each other, trying to solve the contradiction without letting her process lead her to darker considerations, Madaline and Rikka are friends. Madaline and Rikka kiss because Rikka is friendly, so is Madaline really, they’re both friendly with each other. Madaline and I are friends, so does that mean… Not that I want to, but just, it begs the question, if I wanted to, I mean clearly it’s different because… Simon… but if me and Simon weren’t together would that mean, would she and I- would I be allowed to...

The ball sinks and it’s Madaline’s turn.

Amber looked away from the metal ball shooting around the inside of the glass case, up at Madaline’s profile and Amber pictured it, she replaced Rikka in the scene upstairs. Her skin flushed magnesium burn hot, flashes of a dream forced down, fell up from the lower parts of her mind.

Amber shut her imagination down fast; skin prickling, heart throbbing, core tingling, her tuck slightly uncomfortable. She packs everything up and pushes the feelings down, much as she tried to explain to Madaline earlier, an expert in her craft. It made her feel strange this time, creating an almost ache like sensation, though that wasn't quite right.

Not that I want to, just considering things… I guess. Thought experiment. Just trying to understand. And really that's kind of a ridiculous assumption of my own... that it might be okay... there must be something I'm not picking up on, like a special kind of... set up between her and Rikka or... maybe they're not girlfriends but they date on and off and right now they're off, they're definitely off right now, and Rikka just... Madaline could do better, anyway, I hope she knows that. Rikka seems so nice, but Madaline really could do better.

At this point Amber was waiting, this all felt like very good material for Serpentine to jump in on and harass her over. It felt strangely disconcerting that she didn’t seem to have anything to say, that she was sticking to what she'd said earlier, staying out of things while Amber was out with Madaline. It actually made Amber think of...

Like Madaline, Amber had her own dental peculiarities, no cavities, but by way of some incident that had occurred when she was 15, she'd required work on her left front incisor. The change was not terribly visible, unless you were really looking for it and at the right angle, (certainly it wasn't visibly notable if Amber didn't fixate on it) but the work had left the tooth in the dentist's words, abnormally sharp. So much so that she’d had to teach herself to not use it to bite her lip too hard, inside or out, or she risked drawing blood.

She didn’t remember much about the work, only that they gave her gas that had made the pain disappear while they operated on it, using tools that should have made it hurt worse, instead there had been numbness, pressure without pain, but an awareness that pain should be accompanying that pressure, that something was being omitted from her senses.

Serpentine’s absence of needling comments and cruel commentary in this situation felt a little like a psychic version of that omission.

Amber supposed she should consider herself lucky, Serpentine would have a field day with the idea that there was some girl running around telling Madaline’s friends that Amber and Madaline were dating or married.

For Madaline’s part her frustration resumed the level it had been cooking at before Rikka arrived, exasperated by the knowledge of what Rikka was doubtlessly doing. She thought over the conversation, triggering the flippers to bounce the ball up the case, hyper aware of Amber’s presence, she too imagined, or rather remembered kissing Rikka and it’s here at last that the idea that kills the grace period falls into her head.

Lightning strike. Thunder boom. What seems like what could be a band aid on an untenable state of affairs.

It’s a terrible idea, Madaline knows it's a terrible idea, but desperate times and all that.

It certainly can’t make things worse, Madaline thought, hitting the flippers fast repeatedly, as the ball dropped through anyway: Game Over!