We had our girlie sex talk after school one night later that week. Camila and I were hanging out in my room. We alternated between doing Calculus and smooching. My door was closed and locked. I checked it a million times - paranoid that someone would walk in on us.
When I came up for air between kisses, I finally asked her, "Have you ever kissed a girl before?"
She frowned, "Yeah, but just one."
"Who?!" It was a small town. I probably knew the bitch. I mean her.
"Relax, you don't know her. I went to summer camp with her. We were junior counselors together."
"What did you guys do?"
"Everything."
"Like..."
"Everything," she looked at me steadily, not blinking. "We had a cabin to ourselves and half a summer."
"Oh. But you still went back to boys?" I asked, feeling silly. I think some part of me was worried. If I went lezzie - full-on, carpet-munching, screw the dumb boys lezzie and not just kissing and snuggling my cute best friend - would I ever come back to guys?
"Yeah, I went back to boys. I kind of figured it was a one-time deal. I didn't think I liked girls. I just liked her."
"Huh. That's kinda how I feel about you."
She smiled and nodded then kissed me. Then she got up and went over to my dresser. In this funny, sort of theoretical way, Stacey was fascinated by the size of my breasts. Frankly, I don't know why because hers were almost as big. When we hung out in my room, she'd dig through my underwear drawer for a pretty bra then hold it up to her chest. It was part of our routine.
