Moon - Bad Dyke

Contents

BAD DYKE Copyright 2014 by AllisonMoon

All rights reserved. No part ofthis book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoeverwithout written permission except in the case ofbriefquotations embodiedin critical articles or reviews. For information contactinfo@lunaticink.com.

Cover and chapter title font is Lemonade byRachel Lauren Design

Print ISBN 978-0-9838309-7-9

Ebook ISBN 978-0-9838309-8-6

Library ofCongressControl Number: 2014915243

Learn more:

Lunaticink.com

Contact the Author:

info@lunaticink.com

Also by Allison Moon:

Lunatic Fringe, Tales of the Pack Book 1

Hungry Ghost, Tales of the Pack Book 2

Girl Sex 101

Smashwords Edition

you know who youare.

-A

the skinny

Iftheres a cleanbody ofwater around, I want to be nakedin it. Unfortunately, growing up in Northern Ohio, the term cleanhad to be taken with a grain ofrust.

Nevertheless, Lakeshore Park was a regularsummer destination. Lake Erie wasnt as bad in the 90s as it hadbeen when its tributaries caught fire thirty years prior. In fact,the water seemed incapable ofconducting chemical fires at allanymore.

The summer of99was also the summer I came swinging out ofthe closet. I had graduated out ofmy dreadfully conservative high school andimmediately made my way to the big city. The Big City, in thiscase, being Cleveland. I joined the LGBT Center and started goingto their weekly teenage meet-up groups. The group was mostly boysin ill-fitting pleather pants and a few girls weighed down withrainbow jewelry. But being a queer kid among others for the firsttime, it all felt like magic.

One auspicious evening we drove to meet someother queer kids at the park: two girls and one boy. Both girlscaught my eye. One was a small white girl with short blond hair, alittle rough around the edges, and with the same rural Ohio accentshared by all my cousins. She had a butch, working classscrappiness that was both familiar and hot. She introducedherselfas Jo and her friend as Tania.

Tania was a tall, athletic black girl. Herhead was shaved, her lips were pillowy, and her skin was dark. Iblushed in the face ofher beauty. Taniabarely spoke, but when she smiled at me, I fell hard.

When our two groups came together, weengaged in the familiar but awkward moment ofclaiming our crushes. This ritual happened withsilent glances, smiles, and subtle attempts to stand near eachother. Tania and I claimed each other. Jo also claimed me, but soonrealized that I only had eyes for Tania.

The sun was beginning to set over the lakewhen Jo suggested we go swimming. Some ofus tittered the usual We dont have swimsuitsline. Jo walked to the rocky shore and stripped offher t-shirt and Dickies, revealing a sports bra andboxer briefs. This works, dont it? she shouted.

Tania and I shared a glance. I wonderedifI was ready to show my nearly-nakedbody to my new crush before Id even kissed her. She smiled andshrugged. Then she stripped.

I would like to think I was charmed brazen,but only barely. Enough to follow, ifnotto strip completely. I unsnapped my cowboy shirt and dropped mydenim shorts to my ankles. I waded across the rocks and into thewater in my bra and panties.

One ofthe boys,Daryl, followed after me; he was getting a perm next week, he said,so he may as well enjoy the water while he could.

The four ofusclumped and giggled, waving at our friends on the shore. Taniaspied a group ofpeople past the rocks,wading offthe sandy beach.

Wanna make friends? she asked me, her grinan impossibly-alluring combination ofshyand crafty.

Swimming was always where I felt free. I wasdisarmed. I followed her. Tania did the backstroke, her wide smilepointed skyward. Jo followed. Daryl stayed back. Uh, guys? hesaid, before his voice faded into our raucous splashing.

I didnt look at the people in the distance,too transfixed with Tanias strong shoulders as she swam. I was onestroke behind her, my fingertips almost reaching her ankle. I timedit so that I would almost touch her with each stroke.

She paused ahead ofus to tread water and watch. Jo and I followed suit.The people stood in a semicircle in the water, twenty yards fromus, everyone wearing matching t-shirts. I watched, unsureofwhat was happening.

Jos eyebrows jumped with the realization.Baptists! she hissed.

What? I asked.

Shit! Tania said. She fled, swimming awayas ifshe spied a shark fin.

Halfway back to our friends on the rocks, westarted laughing. Then leaping. Then splashing.

Baptists! we shouted. Three naked dykesjust crashed a baptism!

Our friends on the shore laughed and lookedat the semicircle ofpeople now paused inmid-dunk, staring at our weird hair and naked splashing bodies.

Tania and I made a date for the followingweek. Tanias school friends, a lesbian couple who had beentogether since freshman year, picked us up in an Astro van withburgundy velour interior. Though they were only seventeen, theirrelationship seemed cozy and sweet. They seemed decades older whenthey glanced at us with knowing eyes and jabbed each other in theribs as Tania grasped my hand. On the way to the movie theater, onthe bench seat in the back ofthe van,Tania and I kissed. Her lips were beyond anything Id ever feltbefore, so full and soft. Her lips were like a velvet overstuffedsofa. I wanted to curl up on them and nap. I didnt know that thiswas what kissing girls could be like. I wanted to kiss her for therest ofthe night, just to make up forlost time.

We went to the CedarLee cinema to see But Im a Cheerleader . The boy working theregister chided us for missing the first ten minutes, which he saidwas the best part. We made out the whole time anyway.

After the movie we went to Subway fordinner. We were the only customers. Tania cuddled against me, but Iscooted away with a furtive glance to the door. I think I wasafraid ofbeing bashed ormore likely forlesbiansharassed and followed.

But the woman behind the countera black,middle aged woman in a green visor and apronsmiled sweetly at us.She stole glances over the sneeze guard as Tania curled into myshoulder and leaned up for a kiss. The only bashers were in my ownhead.

At college I showed all my dorm matespictures of
Tania, and they cooed. I swelled with pride at the beautyofthe woman who let me hold her, asthough by merely choosing me, she had assigned me a greaterworth.

Tania visited me my sophomore year and wehad sex for the first time, our leggy bodies awkwardly navigatingmy single bed.

When I put my finger inside her, I wasshocked at how hottemperature-wiseshe was. It was like putting myfinger inside a freshly baked peach. Though I obviously knew what avulvamy vulvafelt like, experiencing a different persons body,with its unique odor, taste, and feel, made sex a terrifying,thrilling experience.

Tania liked listening to music as she fellasleep, so she put on The Marshall Mathers LP. She driftedoffeasily as I listened, horrified, toStan, the popular track about a stalker who murders hisgirlfriend. Neat. I couldnt sleep for hours, the quiet flowoflyrics teasing my consciousness awakeover and over again.

It was my first small sign that thisrelationship was doomed.

Our romance continued on and offfor another year after that. She would visit me atcollege and I would visit her over the summers.

The last time she visited, she seemeddifferent. Her shyness led to insecurity. Her outward beauty wasinvisible to her.

She often mentioned how smart I was and howpretty, always with a pitiable tone in her voice. She stayed silentaround my college friends, later telling me that she was stupid andhad nothing to add to the conversation. I tried to bolster herconfidence, to tell her I thought she was sharp and smartandjesus, she could go to any college she wanted. She was the onein the private girls school, with the athletic departments liningup to claim her as their own. She was the one who made my heartstop whenever she smiled.