Scratch

Fourteen

Freen was usually quite the cool cucumber when it came to her clothes. She just screamed tomboy-chic, straight from the latest street fashion pages. However, this night she was having uncharacteristic problems.

"It's not your clothes, Freen. You look so hot that I'd do you!" Nam bit her lower lip dramatically. "It's your mojo. It's gone."

"My what?" Freen furrowed her brow in confusion while running her fingers down a sheer white blouse left hanging open over a black tank top.

"Your mojo. Your confidence. Your animal instincts. You're used to being in control, but something about Becky makes you lose control. You're used to stalking your prey, but tonight you have to gently sit down and dine with yours." Nam smiled knowingly as Freen's face played a million expressions across it at once. "So who is really the hunter and who is really the prey here, hey?"

"You're...like...really..." Freen grappled for the right word.

"Amazing?" Nam flashed a smile with some flair.

"Fucking annoying!"

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Freen parked her bike curbside at the restaurant where she had chosen to take Becky to. It was a nice little sushi joint, modern but quaint. She shook out her hair and turned some heads her way as she removed her helmet and placed it on the seat. She had kept the clothing she had been wearing during Nam's unsettling observations.

Freen felt so lost, but she had the resolve to see it through. She just had to fake the confidence until she believed it, and hopefully Becky too. Freen even made sure to be exactly 40 minutes early - just in case.

"How fast does she go?" Freen turned her head to find Becky stroking her fingertips gingerly along the metal of the bike. Freen was frozen at the sight of Becky. Her hair had been pinned up in random strands that fell in tendrils down to frame a face that was barely touched by makeup, except to accentuate her unmatched natural beauty. She was dressed in a satin black dress that covered her shoulders with several slender straps that hung over her otherwise naked shoulders and gathered around her bust. More flesh was exposed over her hips in the same way before trailing down her toned thighs.

"Are you sure you're talking about the bike?" Freen found her voice and tried to push through on the confidence that Becky seemed to not have much issue with herself.

"Well it depends..." Becky rounded the motorcycle until she reached Freen and leaned against it beside the taller woman. "Which am I riding?" A wicked smile splayed over the younger girl's lips.

Damn Becky, Freen thought. This girl deserved her A-game for sure! There was just no way she could continue to let Becky be the hunter, as Nam put it. Freen had to take control of the situation. "Only good girls can find out after dinner." She whispered a little sternly in Becky's ear as she grabbed hold of Becky's wrist, then firmly tugged her along by the appendage.

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"You can do this. It's just Freen. She's no better than you. She's a normal person. She's just..." Becky was attempting to give herself a peptalk in the mirror of her bathroom at home. "She's just a goddess..." Her face fell into her hands and she groaned from frustration.

Becky had been having a similar, yet wholly different dialogue on her end of town while she was getting ready for the date. Her dress had been picked out and was waiting while she waffled around in her fluffy white robe, panicking over how to impress the hardcore angel that was Freen. "I'm sure she'll enjoy your nerdy, goofy, geeky personality. I mean, obviously." Becky pulled a face at herself and cried out in frustration. She couldn't even take herself seriously.

Not to mention then there was the little issue of the strip club. Becky dreaded thinking about it and rather avoided it for now. As they say, that's a bridge we'll cross when we come to it, or so she thought and hoped at least. They didn't have to rush into any serious situation or conversation even. It could wait and Becky would play it by ear.

Now the question was once again - how to impress a girl like Freen?

And as Becky pondered the answer to that question, she didn't even realise that the answer was simply: Be Becky Armstrong.