The Girls of Manchester Pt. 01

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Sam asked.

Hope nodded again, barely able to look up.

Sam felt the frustration build up. She wanted nothing more than for Hope to give her an excuse, any excuse not to go inside. She wanted Hope to fight for her. Obviously, that was not going to happen. Sam huffed and started to walk off.

"Samantha."

Sam turned around and looked at Hope. The girl who had seemed so strong and sure of herself looked completely vulnerable, as though a lot weighed on her mind. She stepped forward, closing the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. She could see the conflict in Hope's baby blue eyes, the uncertainty etched on her face.

"Don't do that..." Sam said.

"Do what?" Hope asked.

Sam raised her hand to Hope's forehead and slid it downward. Then she signed," Don't wrinkle your forehead like that. It will give you premature wrinkles. You have such a lovely face."

"I'm worried." Hope said.

"About?"

"I don't know what I am doing." Hope said, lowering her face.

Sam picked up Hope's chin, looking the confused girl in the eye and smiled.

"When do we ever?" Sam asked.

Hope leaned forward suddenly, her eyes closed. Samantha felt as though she must be in a dream, a fantastical dream. Plush, soft lips made slight contact with hers, and Sam closed her eyes. She didn't dare move. If she did, she was afraid everything would vanish. Long after the contact ended and the running footsteps receded into the distance, Sam kept her eyes closed. She wanted to etch that moment into her memory forever, even if it was some fluke. Hope had just basically acknowledged that she felt the same way about her as she did Hope.

Sam opened her eyes to a deserted street, the light fading quickly. Sam smiled, wrapping her arms around her abdomen as she continued to savor the memory of the kiss. Every feeling, every small quiver of Hope's lips against hers was now as unforgettable a part of her memory as her own name. Sam walked slowly towards the front door, smiling to herself as she let her mind reach beyond the subtle frustrations that hope and desire provide to the wonderful realm of possibility. Her heart was almost dancing with joy in her chest,

Sam opened the front door and paused, looking back down the street. She gazed towards where she had seen Hope earlier that afternoon. She tried to imagine the sight of pink highlighted golden locks, no longer walking away from her, but toward her. She could see the figure of Hope waving, details coming into sharper focus as she approached. She could see the lucid, watery quality of Hope's bright spring green eyes, her bright white smile greeting Sam in anticipation. Sam leaned against the doorframe closing her eyes to shut herself entirely within the beauty of this dream. Hope was jogging, no, sprinting towards Sam her arms outspread. She could feel Hope's arms wrap around her, the warmth and safety she felt was the same as before- like she belonged there. She could see Hope's face getting closer. Sam's heart was racing now, the anticipation fired in her every nerve. Only seconds and inches separated Sam from feeling Hope's lips against hers again. So close, so near.

"Wow, Sam. Can your nipples get any harder?"

Sam was broken out of her trance and startled by the sight of her sister, arms crossed and leaning against the opposite doorframe with a wide grin. Sam blushed, guessing that her sister had probably seen the entire thing.

"Yes, Sam. I saw everything. Didn't know you would make the move so early." Bridget teased, laughing.

"Shut up, you pervert." Sam signed quickly before pushing her sister.

"Aww, she's embarrassed. So cuuuuute." Bridget teased.

Sam blushed an even deeper shade of crimson, motioning for Bridget to quit.

"Why? This is so much fun! It's not often I get to tease my perfect little baby sis. What was it like? Was it good? Was she good? Must have been, your nipples have probably busted through your bra by now." Bridget giggled.

Unconsciously Sam looked down at her breasts and realized that her nipples were actually very stiff, more than she could ever remember. Bridget laughed.

"Why are you letting all of the flies into my house?" their mother demanded, rounding a corner and startling both girls out of their conversation.

"Not all flies, mom, geez," Bridget replied teasingly," only one fly who decided home was worth coming back to after all."

"Be nice to your sister."

"Okay, mom." Bridget replied with a roll of her eyes.

Suddenly, Bridget got an idea. Bridget grabbed a hold of her sister's hand and literally dragged her away from the door. Sam was taken completely by surprise. She tried to tap her Bridget's arm to let her go. She couldn't even protest, but Bridget persisted, dragging Sam by the hand past the bewildered gaze of their mother. Bridget continued to lead Sam up the stairs which led to their bedrooms and pulled Sam into her room. Sam had rarely ever been in Bridget's room before, only when she felt especially down and needed someone to talk to. Frequently, Bridget was the one coming over to her room to hang out or talk.

Bridget let go of Sam's hand and motioned for Sam to sit on her bed. Sam complied as Bridget quickly shut and locked the door behind them.

"Sign only. I don't want mom hearing our conversation." Bridget gestured.

Sam nodded.

"Sam, I do not think you have been telling me everything."

Sam's head dropped.

"What are you hiding?" Bridget asked, as she walked around the bed and laid down, staring at the ceiling. She knew that Sam would have to lay down next to her in order to have this conversation. After a few moments she heard Sam huff and move around on the bed. She heard a pair of shoes drop and the sound of Sam sliding up the bed to settle in next to her.

"I am hiding nothing." Sam replied.

"That was your first time kissing a girl, wasn't it?" Bridget asked, watching Sam's blush return.

"That was your first kiss, wasn't it?" Bridget asked, a moment of clarity about her sister's reactions hitting her like a bolt out of the blue.

Sam nodded again, blushing even more.

"You look cute when you blush." Bridget teased, giggling.

"I could not stop it." Sam signed. "I was scared and happy and nervous and tingling all over. It was so many things all at once. Is this what it feels like, Bri?"

"What?" Bridget asked, intrigued by the conversation.

"I think I am in love with her." Sam responded, a slightly confused expression on her face.

"That is great!" Bridget responded. "Why are you so upset over it?"

"I am not upset about it- not like you think."

"Okay." Bridget replied.

"Up until today I haven't been kissed by anybody. I am not sure I could have even considered myself a real lesbian."

"Why not?"

"The most I've ever done is hold hands. Like I said, today was my first kiss, and I have certainly never- you know." Sam had a hard time forming the words.

"Given another girl carpet burn, you mean?" Bridget asked, laughing hysterically.

Sam looked down towards the foot of the bed, ashamed.

"Hey, Sam. None of that." Bridget signed after lifting Sam's chin. "You have saved yourself because you want your first to be special. I understand. There is nothing wrong with that choice."

"I know. How many chances will I get in life, though? The two girls I have dated decided I was too much maintenance for them, and that was back in middle school. My need for love has grown, but nobody seems willing to give me a try. I mean, you can speak whenever you wish, you don't have my insecurities, and you are beautiful."

"Sam-" Bridget sighed in frustration before getting up off of the bed. Sam began to feel vulnerable under Bridget's angry stare until she could see Bridget's mind spinning furiously. She seemed to hit upon an idea and motioned for Sam to stand up.

Bridget began removing her shirt and Sam turned away. The dull thud of the cloth hitting the floor was followed quickly by another. Footsteps approached her and Sam was in shock that her sister was down to only her underwear in front of her.

"Take off your clothes, Sam." Bridget commanded.

"What!?" Sam replied, bewildered over such a request. They had not been in front of each other only in their underwear for years.

"Take them off, ALL of them. Now." Bridget demanded.

Sam started to comply, however hesitantly. She watched out of the corner of her eye as her sister blushingly removed her bra and panties. Sam took a lot longer, but completed the task. That finished, Sam jumped when she felt Bridget grab her hand and lead her towards the standing mirror in the corner of her room. Sam kept her eyes on herself, not comfortable with the idea of ogling her sister's nude body.

"What do you see? Anything strange?" Bridget asked.

"About?" Sam asked.

"You're not going to be able to see this if you don't look at my body, Sam."

Sam looked at her sister in the mirror, and then herself. There was no difference between them except that Bridget had her labia shaved completely smooth. Sam, however, kept a small tuft of hair on her pubic mound neatly trimmed.

"What am I supposed to be looking for?" Sam asked, her blush now permanently affixed to her face.

"Precisely. You cannot find it, can you?" Bridget asked.

"Find what?! That is what I do not get!" Sam was starting to get frustrated with the riddles, nervous about being naked in front of her twin, and confused that her body was starting to react to being naked in front of Bridget. How strong was her reaction? Sam mused that Bridget would be able to sniff out the answer to that question in the not too distant future.

"We are exactly the same in every respect except that you choose to keep a little hair on your privates. Other than that, there is no difference, Sam. If I am beautiful, so are you. If you are trying to suggest you are ugly, however, then you are saying I am ugly. I do not appreciate being called ugly, baby sis. You are cute as a button, and a damn hot little button at that. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

"I don't know, sis."

Bridget sighed and walked off leaving Sam to appraise herself in the mirror. A few seconds later she felt Bridget approaching from behind.

"These are sopping wet, girl." Bridget said aloud, and Sam's eyes widened when she saw Bridget appear in the bra and panties that she had just stripped out of. "That kiss really got to you, huh?"

"What are you doing? Those are mine!" Sam asked.

"No, duh!" Bridget responded before switching back to sign. "I am trying to make a point here while trying to ignore the fact I have my sister's girl cum all over my cooch now."

"What point?" Sam asked, her body rapidly heating up with the extremely personal twist this conversation had taken.

"Think of this as looking at yourself in the mirror, just pretend you're wearing these." Bridget responded, indicating the underwear she had on. "Do you see anything different-"

"Okay! I get it. I'm sorry. Can I have my panty and bra back, now?" Sam pled, causing Bridget to grin.

"Fine. Although I'll admit they're comfortable. Would probably be more so if it didn't have ten gallons of your cum soaked up into it." Bridget replied, stripping out of the undergarments. Sam chanced a glance at her sister's pussy, it was shining with juices.

"That was because of me?" Sam asked after slipping her panties back on.

"I think it is partially from me. Wearing your wet panties, for some reason, had me gushing a bit as well." Bridget admitted, turning her head away.

"I guess we're both a little worked up." Sam said, trying to justify the situation for the both of them.

"Yeah."

"Besides, I should be starting my period soon. I always get worked up around this time." Sam said, offering up an excuse.

"Me too." Bridget signed as she watched Sam finish getting dressed.

"Bridget? I trust you, and love you. And thanks for putting up with my craziness. Although, I think that stunt with my underwear just put you nearly on my level." Sam signed when she was sure Bridget was paying attention. Bridget seemed kind of distant, out there.

"I think I have finally beaten you on that one." Bridget said, forcing a smile.

"You always do." Sam replied before unlocking the door and stepping out into the hallway. Bridget barely registered the door closing as she plopped onto her bed.

"What am I doing?" her forlorn voice entreated of the empty room around her.

Ch.07 What Does It Mean to Love?

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the true meaning of life by ourselves alone -- we find it with another."

- Tim Merton

"So, baby girl," the large boy said," I hear you are making new friends already?"

"What do you mean?" Hope asked, ambling along.

"Word is you were having a good old time with a couple of twins in English. Word is they are pretty stunning, too."

"Your point?" Hope responded after a moment's hesitation and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing." Mark said dismissively, but Hope could see through the feint.

"Yes, I met a couple girls in class today. Bridget and Sam. What is it now, Spike?"

"Were they nice?"

"Bridget seems like she is a bit of a troublemaker. She reminds me of Kittie a little too much. Sam- I, uh. She is very outgoing when you get to know her. She has a beautiful smile, though she is a bit jumpy. And- what, Mark!?"

"You sound like a love-sick teenager." Mark replied laughing. "Ow! You know, this could be termed child abuse."

Hope smiled, feigning to draw back for another punch to Mark's arm. Laughing, she dropped her arm back to her side and thrust her hands in her pockets.

"You're 18, you've lost your 'child abuse' privileges. Besides, you look like you should be in the NFL instead of squalling over every time a girl half your size hits you in the arm."

"Yeah, but- not every girl your size has that mean of a right hook. Do you know how long it took for that last bruise to go away?"

Hope laughed hysterically.

"Besides, you do sound like a love- sick teenager. Is there something there?" Mark asked.

"You tell me, Dr. Phil." Hope challenged.

"You wouldn't listen to me anyways." Mark retorted.

"Probably not," Hope replied daintily, pointing to her ears," in one ear and out the other."

"How grown-up of you." Mark joked. Hope stuck out her tongue and laughed.

"Case and point." Mark said, rolling his eyes.

"Either way, tell me." Hope replied. "You know me better than anyone besides Kittie."

"Yeah, but I'm not freaky psychic like she is. Either way, I'm not sure how you would take certain things."

Hope already knew where this was going, but she knew he was wrong. Or, at the very least, she could make a plausible case for why it just was not so.

"You already know where this conversation is headed. Why do you continue to deny the possibility?" Mark asked.

"I'm not lesbian, Mark. Not at all, not in the slightest." Hope stated adamantly.

"You've never been a very good actress, baby girl." Mark said, unenthused.

"Well, what else do you expect me to say or do? How many times have we gone guy hunting together? I mean, it's not like I could jump your cock to prove my point. You're gay."

"Now that the obvious is out of the way, pay attention to the subtleties." Mark said.

"Pay attention to the subtleties? What the heck is that supposed to mean anyways? When you're done going all psychologist on me, let me know." Hope huffed.

"You've got feelings for her." Mark stated, Hope gave no indication of a reply to come.

"Something has already happened between you two, hasn't it?" Mark asked, his tone suggesting it was more of a point made than a question to be answered.

"What are you trying to accuse me of?" Hope asked, trying to find a way to divert the topic.

"No accusation." Mark replied, not at all fooled by Hope's diversionary tactic. "Merely making observations."

"Like you know what's going on every minute of my life." Hope replied defensively.

"No, but your reactions are a dead giveaway. You seem to like to forget sometimes we have known each other for nearly our whole lives."

"So?" Hope asked, her stomach becoming a churning mess. She wanted this conversation to be over.

"So, you don't go an entire lifetime with someone and not learn a thing or two about them. You just happen to be a horrible liar."

Hope finally caught sight of her house and started sprinting for the front door. Behind her, she heard Mark calling out that he would see her in the morning, but she refused to respond. Hope flung open the door and slammed it behind her, practically sprinting through the house until she reached her room.

She cursed her bad fortune of having run into Mark on her way home. She cursed the fact that she had kissed Sam, another girl, and then run away without a seconds' thought or explanation. She had no kind of experience with the feelings or emotions that drove her to make that kiss. It wasn't a thoughtless act on her part, either. She could not say that it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, or some thoughtless action brought about by some mental crisis or personal insecurity towards boys. She wasn't desperate in that way.

*Knock, Knock*

Hope jumped, completely startled by the sudden intrusion into her thoughts.

"Hope? Are you okay?"

"Yes, mom."

"Are you sure? I am here to talk if you need me to. You just seemed to breeze past everybody is all I am saying. You scared-."

"Mom! I am fine." Hope said.

"Okay, honey. I'm just worried about you."

Hope listened as her mother's footsteps faded down the hallway and Hope was left in the middle of her room. Her thoughts completely interrupted, she plopped onto her bed with a loud sigh, the only sounds to penetrate the thick silence that was growing around Hope. That was a situation more intolerable to Hope than listening to Mark doing his damnedest to convince her she was a closet lesbian. She got up off of her bed, furiously pacing the space between her bed and dresser when she came upon an idea. Remembering the conversation with Mark may have had its uses after all. Kittie would know what to do. Hope went to her book bag and plucked out her cell phone. She hit the speed dial and waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello, Gonzales residence." a thickly-accented voice answered.

"Mrs. Gonzales?" Hope asked.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Mrs. Gonzales interrupted before Hope could continue.

"Sorry, mom." Hope smiled as she corrected her error. Mrs. Gonzales was Kittie's mom. She was a rotund woman in her late 40's with a quick mind, and an even quicker temper. However, she was also the sweetest woman you could ever meet. She was always jovial and inviting. Any friend of the family was practically considered family especially when it came to Kittie's friends. She always insisted on being called either Juanita, or mom. Hope was among her favorites because Hope had been practically a lifelong friend to her daughter. She had stopped just shy of demanding Hope being adopted into the family, always fussing when Hope didn't come by often, which in Juanita's terms was every day. To try to understand the elder Gonzales woman was an exercise in futility. Juanita Gonzales was a force of nature all on her own, by sheer force of will commanding immediate respect and obedience. Hope had a very big soft spot for her because she never failed to make Hope feel right at home.