Pipsqueak (BEING EDITED)

Chapter Eleven

"Do you ever wonder what it's like to be straight?" Freya asked, leaning over her bed and looking at Rosie.

"God no, I was straight once, worse night of my life." Rosie looked at Freya with an amused tone. "No, why're you asking?"

"Because I want to know if you're born homosexual."

Rosie groaned dramatically and lay across the floor, "Not everyone pops out of their mother wanting cock or fanny. Some people believe that they were born like it, others went through certain experiences that made them gay, some people just wake up and know that they are."

"Well what's the case with you?" Freya asked, moving her hair from her pink cheeks.

"Experience."

"Well what happened."

"When I was fourteen, I had this boyfriend. His name was Kyle-God he was gorgeous. His skin was dark and his hair was normally in short dreadlocks. He had sharp features and a very chiselled face, his eyes were a golden brown. He normally wore a tank top and a pair of joggers. But, that day he was wearing a Tupac shirt with some loose jeans. I knew something was different by the way he refused to look at me. His voice was lowered and he pulled me to the side of the street. I remember his soft hands feeling rough on my wrists. He had a shadow in his eyes, a dark shadow which told me that something must've been wrong. I remember the tone in his voice as he told it was over."

"And that was it? You turned lesbian because a man broke up with you?"

"No." Rosie said, raising her eyebrow. "I went home to my friend and cried my eyes out for hours. I remember her holding me close and telling me everything would be okay. She cupped my face and drew me close-we kissed-and I felt something just explode. I felt things with her that I hadn't felt with Kyle. I just knew-right then, right there-that women were my thing."

"Do you think I'll get an experience?" Freya asked.

"Dunno," Rosie shrugged. "Are you attracted to men or women?"

"I'm not sure." Freya confessed sheepishly.

"I can help with that."

"How?"

"I know a couple of people; they can get us into a bar just out of town. I think having an experience with women might help you discover yourself."

"A bar?! I'm only sixteen!"

"Yeah? So? I'm only seventeen." Rosie rolled her eyes and got up, taking her packet of cigarettes out of her pocket and going to Freya's bedroom window.

"Hey, no smoking in the house."

"Whatcha gonna do about it? Hm?" Rosie smirked playfully. Freya's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, she lowered her eyes and tangled her fingers with her own. She didn't know what to say.

"Thought so," Rosie said.

"What bar is it?" Freya asked.

"It's called Bejangle. It's a gay bar."

Freya's cheeks flushed again, "Oh."

"Don't worry, you won't be raped or anything. Well, not by me anyway."

"What the hell do I wear to something like this?"

"A dress."

"No way! I refuse to dress like a hooker!" Freya objected.

"If you'd let me finish my sentence I'd be grateful! You won't look like a hooker, trust me, I'll dress you up so you look real nice and that's that. No arguing with me, I don't wanna go to a club and be seen with a prepubescent Christian girl, I need to make you look at least older anyway. Either way we'll both look amazing and pull plenty of women."

"Alright," Freya sighed. "What do I tell my mum?"

"Then you're having a sleepover at mine, okay? Then we'll sneak out."