Eve & Lucy Ch. 02: Cast

"Cool, thanks."

There's a pause. I fidget nervously.

"So, what are your plans tomorrow? Could we, like, hang out? Maybe get lunch? Or just study buddy in the library?"

"Errr, sure. I was going to go straight to the gym tomorrow, then I've a lecture at 11. In the afternoon I'm helping out a friend with an experiment... actually maybe you'd be willing to be a test subject? If you're free?"

"Um... ok! Like, what do I have to do? Are there going to be, like, electrodes?"

"No, nothing like that. I can't really tell you as that compromises the results, but it's just answering questions."

"Yeah, sure, what time? I mean, I've got a lecture at 11 too, but then, like, nothing until 3. Do you need more people for the experiment? I mean, I could, like, ask my flatmates?"

"Oh, yeah, that would be great! We're running it from 2 until 5 in Psychology, second floor. The more people the better."

"Sure, thing, I'll ask them. Sarah's in Sociology and Louise is in History, so I'm sure they can pop over."

"Awesome, thanks!"

How much do I push it? "So, would you be free for an early lunch beforehand?"

"Yeah, guess we could do that. If we met at 12, we'd have time."

"Perfect!" I'm about to suggest meeting at the Hawthorns but then I remember Samantha's advice. "Where do you want to go?"

"Hmmm, what's your budget?"

"Honestly? Like, if I wasn't meeting you, I'd probably come home and eat, but, you know, I can afford to eat out. Maybe 15 quid?"

"Hang on... let me check the weather... ok, looks sunny and warmish tomorrow... how about a picnic in Royal Fort gardens?"

"Sounds great! Like, where do you want to meet?"

"Can you come to Psychology after your lecture? We can walk up together?"

"Yeah, of course. Um, are you, like, allergic to anything?"

"Nope, you?"

"No. Not fond of shellfish, but, like, I'll eat it."

"Damn, I was gonna bring oysters."

"Tease!"

She laughs.

"Aw thanks Carrie. I'm, like, really looking forward to it. I'm, like, 90% sure I'm staying in Bristol next year, but, like, so many of my friends are moving on, you know? So, I mean, I don't want to, like, get ahead of myself here, but, like, I hope I'll at least have one friend still here next year?"

She doesn't reply. Oh crap, too much.

"Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow Carrie. I'll let you get back to, like, big sistering."

"Yeah, cool. Thanks for calling."

"Anytime."

I end the call.

Phew! I think that went ok.

Will friendship be enough? Well, it's definitely better than nothing.

* * *

Amanda - Monday

"Thanks for letting me, like, tag along Carrie."

What with lunch on Thursday, then her Psychology experiment, studying with her on Friday, then sharing a coffee on Saturday after rehearsal, I've managed to spend big chunks of three out of the past four days with her. She's definitely making an effort to let me in, and I've been trying really, really hard not to get my hopes up. Still, I'm worried I might be pushing it by inviting myself along to her Monday morning work out session.

"No worries. Are you sure your ankle is up to this?"

"Oh yeah. I mean, It's been fine all weekend. I've got a, like, tubey-grip support thingy just in case."

"Thingy?" She looks at me doubtfully as the gym's doors slide open.

"Are you, like, a regular gym bunny?"

"Um... I guess so. Maybe 3 times a week. It depends on how under control the reading and essays are. I try to make time. You?"

Shit! Three times a week? I'm going to die! Best be honest.

"No. Normally, it's not, like, my thing at all. I do some yoga, like, when I remember. But, you know, I'm gonna be, like, naked in front of a shit ton of people in like 6 weeks, next to Mr Marble Abs, and I'm, like, thinking I ought to tone up!"

"Yeah, Haile is ripped, no doubt."

We head into the locker room. We're both in gym clothes, so it's just a question of shedding outer layers and stowing our bags. I'm sort of both looking forward to and dreading showering after.

"We used to play badminton, like, once a week - me, Lydia, Louise and Sarah - back in our first year, but then, like, Louise got really good - I mean, she's in the Uni team - and so we stopped because we just couldn't keep up, you know?"

She nods.

"Oh, look, speak of the devil," Carrie says as we enter the gym. Haile's working on his legs across the room. He gives us a little wave. Mmmm. Even though I've seen him naked, like, three times now, at close proximity, he somehow looks even hotter in that wife beater and basketball shorts.

"You mean, like, speaking as the devil," I grin.

"That was poor Amanda."

"Yeah, you're right. So, where do you normally start?"

"Bike or treadmill?" Err, I don't know! Both sound intimidating. Still, at least on the bike I can sit down.

"Bike?"

"Ok." Phew.

I follow Carrie over to the exercise bikes. We stretch off, focusing on our legs. Bikes, I can do this. "Do I just, like, pedal or....?"

"Well, you need to pick a setting."

"Can you do it? Give me something, like, gentle? To warm up, you know?"

"Sure."

I don't know what she does, but it isn't too bad. I mean, Carrie is seriously going for it: I can see on her screen she's going at least twice as fast as me, and on an incline no less. And she still has enough breath to chat.

"I think Haile's flexing for you," she grins.

"Really?"

"No, don't look!"

I laugh. He definitely was.

"So?"

"So...?" I ask.

"Well, is he your type?"

"Are you asking that 'cos, like, I'm black?"

"What!? No!"

I laugh at her embarrassment. "Just messing with you! Nah, he's hot but... to be honest, he kinda... not, like, intimidates me but... look, yeah, I'm black but I'm not, like, black with a capital b, you know what I mean?"

She shakes her head.

"Like, I'm from Redruth. You know, in Cornwall?" I supply as she looks at me blankly. "I mean, I was, like, the only black girl in my class. Like, when I got to college and there was another black girl in my Drama class we were both like that scene from that high school film - like "no, get outta here, I'm the token black person!" - she was cool though. But, so, like, I'm not, like, really into Black culture. But... Haile, man he's, like, really into it. Have you seen the stuff he reads?"

She shakes her head.

"Like..." I try to remember this book he was raving about during Twelfth Night rehearsals, "Franz Fanon? Oh and that rapper... Akala? He's, like, well up on it all."

"So? You're smart too? Don't tell me you're intimidated by smart guys?"

"No, like, that's not it. It's just... like, I don't feel black enough. Seriously! Don't laugh! Like, it was one of the reasons why I picked Bristol, 'cos it's, like, really diverse and stuff, but, like, when I went down St Paul's I felt like a tourist! You know, being black in a white town, I had to learn to, like, tone it all down, to not be the angry black girl. That's, like, why I sound like I'm on Scooby Doo the whole time."

"Oh my God, you do! It's so true!" she squeals, "No, stop, don't make me laugh while I'm cycling, I'll get a stitch."

"Yeah, I'm, like, a textbook example of Communication Accommodation Theory. So, I mean, when it comes to guys like Haile, like, I know it's stupid, but I feel, like, either they're gonna judge me or be, like, disappointed when they realise I don't like saltfish and ackee or dancehall or, you know, that I listen to white people's music."

She sideyes me. "So how do you know it's white people's music?"

"Duh! 'Cos, like, white people are playing it?"

"Oh. Yeah. Fair point."

Haile is now benching what looks like a stupid amount of weights, while two gym bros spot him. Yeah, he's hot. Maybe I am being silly about this.

Carrie leans forward and rises on the pedals, puffing. I look at her screen and see she's doing a serious incline.

Trying not to notice her physique, I cast my eye around the gym. There are some hot bods. For purely research purposes, I try to surreptitiously check out some of the girls. Yeah, I mean, objectively I can see that many are beautiful. Toned limbs, curvy figures, flat stomachs, pretty faces. (Though, I hear my English teacher's voice in my head asking me if I need to judge women by a man's standard.) But none of them cause a twinge in me, not like the guys. Was it just because it was Carrie? I mean, again, I could acknowledge her beauty before, but I'd never lusted over her like that. But it was amazing! Maybe I'm just gay for her?

Carrie seems to have managed that incline, and sits back down on the saddle again.

"So, is he, like, your type?" I tease.

"What? Uh, no! Strictly women."

"How did you know?"

She puffs. "Annie on my Mind. It's a book. The librarian at my school recommended it to me when I was in Year 8. I guess she could see something in me that I hadn't realised. I stayed up all night reading it, went back in break the next day and asked if she had anything else like it. That was it. Never a question for me. It's funny, I was out before my Mum was. I think it kind of made it easier for her, having a gay daughter."

"Uh huh." I have to bite my tongue not to ask more. She'll tell me when she tells me.

We cycle on a bit more. I've managed 4 ks so far, to Carrie's 9.

"So, were you out in school?"

"Nah. I wasn't stupid. And school was hard enough anyway. I mean, I think some people would have been cool with it, but it wasn't worth the hassle. There was no need anyway: I was barely there for much of it, and nobody was going to go out with me. College was different. I managed to have a girlfriend there for a bit. Ok, I think I'm warmed up."

She dismounts and I follow suit.

"Like, what's next, coach?"

She gives me a distinctly unimpressed look. "For that, we're working on the core."

I hold her feet while she does a ridiculous number of sit ups on a mat. I take my turn and manage 20 before collapsing.

"20 seconds, then give me 20 more."

"What?"

"Come on, Richards! You wanna be on the team or not?"

"Oh, we role-playing now?"

"Yeah, come on, channel your inner hockey player!"

"Could you, like, be more clichéd?"

"Stop stalling Richards! Gimme twenty!"

All right! Role-play it is. Amanda Richards, wannabe hockey star, here we come. I visualise making the team, scoring the winning goal, then find the strength to power through another twenty reps. We swap over, go again, Carrie cheering me on. Then it's planks, then squats. This is going to hurt tomorrow, but it'll all be worth it to secure my starting spot.

"That all you got coach? Come on, test me." In the back of my head, Amanda's cursing me out.

Carrie raises an eyebrow at me. "Ok, Richards. You think you're tough, huh? Let's see how you manage pull ups."

I manage two. It's quite pathetic. Poof, like that, the character is gone and the pain I pushed aside has come back with a vengeance.

Carrie rips off ten like it ain't no thing.

"Come on, you can rest while you spot me."

Phew.

Carrie stacks up 50 kilos on a bar. "I could do more, but I don't really want to bulk out."

"So, like, do you really need me to spot you then?"

"Safety first."

So I stand there, trying desperately not to admire her and to keep focussed on what I'm meant to be focussing on. But it's hard. She really doesn't need me and she really does look hot in lycra.

Yep, definitely gay for her.

"Ok, come on, you try. We'll put it down to 35, ok?"

"Sure."

It's fine. I can do 15 reps no problem. I take it slow, as she suggests, to build the resistance. After the first few, I watch her watching me. Maybe I'm being hopeful, but I think she's checking out my boobs. I try to squish them together as I push up the bar each time.

We take turns on a few more machines before Carrie decides it's time to warm down with a gentle jog on the treadmills. It's impossible for me to run, breathe and talk at the same time, but Carrie cheers me on, encouraging and motivating me, seemingly unbothered by her own exertions. It's endearing how she's looking out for me. Samantha was bang on the money.

Then we're done, stretching off, and heading for the showers. I tense up. I both want to preen and tease for her, but also really not be obvious about it. I'm not sure I'll be able to balance it out. Ok, so let's own that.

"You know Carrie, you don't have to, like, pretend you don't fancy me. Like, it's totally cool if you want to check out my ass in the showers."

"Shut up you twat!"

"Yeah, you can, like, totally check that out too!"

"Aw, no, that's awful!"

"Nah, like, you totally deserved that one!"

The showers aren't open, so I shower quickly, then stick on my bra and pants - I mean, I don't want to overdo it - but then take a while sorting my hair out, making sure Carrie gets a good view of what she's missing as she gets dressed.

"So, like, was I ok? I mean, can I tag along again?"

"Mmmmm. Why don't you wait and see how stiff you feel later before you ask?"

"Yeah, but, like, that'll fade."

"Well, maybe. I was going to come early Wednesday if you're up for it."

"What's early?"

"8:45."

"I'm sorry? What's 8:45? I'm, like, an Arts student remember? I haven't seen 9am since, like, 6th form."

She gives me a look.

I snap to attention, deliberately making my boobs bounce. "Yes, coach! I'll be there, coach! You can count on me, coach!"

She starts giggling. "Oh my days, you're just so good at totally inhabiting roles so quickly. I can't do that."

"A* in Drama A level, innit?" I lick my finger and make the "tsst" sound as I hit the imaginary hotspot.

Carrie unwraps her towel, and starts pulling her clothes on, sadly facing away from me. Though her back and boyish bum are very sexy. Yep, totally gay for her.

Right, I've really got no reason to still be in my underwear, so I start pulling my tights on. I'd normally wear jeans, but I thought I'd go for something more feminine. Or should that be femme? Still learning.

She turns, clad in a sports bra and cargo pants, and rummages in her bag for her polo neck. "But, seriously, we could do Thursday instead if you like. I have a 10am, so we could go after that."

"Mmmm, thanks, but... I might not be, you know, up for much on Thursday. Me and Sarah, like, are going out.... Not, like, "going out" going out, but you know what I mean. I mean, we're not planning on getting wasted, but, like, it might be a late one."

"Where you going?"

"She's gonna take me to gaybar! Gaybar! Gaybar!" I yell, doing a little dance. Her eyes go to my chest. Result.

A few heads turn to look at us. "Sorry!" I call, then drop my voice for Carrie as I finish buttoning up my blouse. "Yeah, she's, like, taking me to the Queen's Shilling. You see, this really hot chick, like, took me to heaven and back, so now I want more, but she's, like, not up for it, so what's a girl to do? I gotta go fish!"

I see her face fall. Oh, too much.

"Sorry Carrie, that was low. Hug?"

"Yeah."

I wrap my arms around her, carefully keeping my hands on her back and my chin up so it's not in her boobs. "Sorry," I whisper. I try not to linger in her arms.

"Anyway," I carry on as we pull apart, "in all seriousness, like, this is a new thing for me, but I wanna, like, lean into it, so Sarah suggested I come out with her, explore that scene, see if it's, like, for me. I'm not really planning on pulling, just wanna see what it's like, you know." I don't mention that I bugged Sarah for ideas that might just make Carrie jealous and possessive. I look into her eyes. I don't know her well enough to know what she's feeling. Besides, she's a good actress too. "Are we cool?"

"Yeah, of course." Hmmm, she doesn't sound it.

"You know, I was gonna, like, ask you if you wanted to come too, like, as a friend, obvs, but I was worried you might think I was, like, trying something on..." I bite my lip and shrink into myself, looking small.

"Aw thanks, but nah, it's not really my thing. I'm not one for bars and clubs. Anyway, I'm babysitting. Have fun though." She grabs her bag and makes to leave. I quickly grab mine and follow. She holds the door for me (good call Samantha!) and I pass through ahead.

I turn my head back to her. "So, like, thanks again Carrie. I need to head to the library now, but I'll catch you at rehearsal later, yeah? Do you wanna, you know, walk there together?"

"Actually, I was going to head to the library too."

I do a mental fist pump, but put on my most innocent face. "Oh, ok, well you, like, can tag along if you like Carrie. But, you know, I've got to, like, get some work done, so keep it professional. No flirting."

She slaps me on the shoulders.

"Hey! I said no flirting." She looks puzzled. "I like it rough, ok?"

She rolls her eyes. "Come on."

Carrie - Tuesday

"Lucifer, can you just.... When you say that line, can you really point to it and get a lot closer? Is that ok, Adam?" Keke asks.

"Yeah, sure," Haile/Adam shrugs.

"Ok," I agree.

"Great, fantastic. It's really good people. Eve, back with us?"

"Yep, yep!" She bounces back from the window, her beautiful bare breasts bouncing up and down. How is Adam not just fondling them constantly?

"Ok, from Lucifer's line: You know why the Lord put you in this lovely garden. Ok, places, and go!"

"You know why the Lord put you in this lovely garden," I hiss insistently.

"To praise everything!" Adam yaps.

"Right." I cover my eyes with my hand and fidget in frustration. I speak slowly, as if talking to small children. Which, in a way, I am. "Now. What if I told you that there are a number of things you've been leaving out?"

"Oh no!" Adam claps his cheeks in shock. "I praise absolutely everything!"

"Oh yeah?" I slink forward. "And what about this thing here?" I grab his massive flaccid trouser snake and give it a shake. "Do you praise Him for that?"

Eve has come right up to us and is standing opposite me peering very closely at Adam's stiffening cock, her eyes wide.

There's a pause. Keke gives us a curricular "keep going" motion. Adam looks down, looks at me, looks down again, looks at me, then says, "Well, not in particular, but I include it in."

Eve covers my hand with hers and shuffles them up and down as I say, "But how can you when you don't even know what it's for?"

"He pees that way," Eve adds brightly.

"Pees!" I shout, waving my hands in the air. Eve leaves hers where they are. "That is so incidental it's not even worth mentioning." I stare at him, look down at where Eve's hands are, look back at him. "You have no idea, do you?"

"Well...ah...."

"Yes?" I tap my feet.

"Ahh... ahhh.."

"Oh, that's not pee is it!" Eve giggles.

There's a thin line of something drooling down from the tip of Haile's now erect and frankly ridiculous penis. Eve is still stroking away.

"Huh? That's not in the -"

"Ok, cut, cut!" Keke calls. "Eve. Eve! Amanda! Stop!"

"Oh, like... oh shit, like, sorry Haile!" A blush spreads from behind her hands as she covers her face.

"Nah, babe it's all safe yeah."

"Sorry, that was my bad," I hold my hands up in apology.

"Haile, do you want a break?" His cock is still rigid and looks like it could serve as a load bearing buttress.

"Uh, yeah, man. I'm a gonna go cool off, innit?" He pulls his jeans and t-shirt on, and then, barefoot, pads out into the corridor. Probably going to go splash some water on his face. Or find a hammer to hit it with.

Amanda catches my eye, and suddenly we're both collapsing with laughter.

"Oh my God, Carrie! Like, I can't..."

"I know, I know..." We're hysterical, leaning against each other to stay on our feet.

"And when you..." she starts again, but can't finish as the giggles take her again.