REND

Can we do something else? I thought, going through another photo album. We had passed the high school era and were now unearthing fossil records of the college era.

I didn’t want to continue doing this shit. But what other stuff could we do? Watch movies on TV?

Just sitting on the sofa and staring at a fucking box sounds like a good idea… if I was on my own. As the host, I’d be constrained to engage in small talk so it wouldn’t get awkward, maybe comment on the show or something.

When I stayed at Deen’s house, I mostly hid in my room unless she dragged me out to eat or to discuss lessons. Despite living together, we didn’t see each other often. But then again, that was a huge house.

I had no idea what girls did during sleepovers to entertain themselves. I doubted movies accurately depicted sleepovers.

Gossip about guys? I already gave Deen a juicy fake tidbit, and we just glossed over it. And no way I was going to ask Deen about her love life. Hundred percent, I’d fall asleep while listening to it.

“This was when I took judo for my P.E. units,” I said, tapping a photo showing me in white baggy judogi with a similarly white belt tied around my waist. “Mom was so proud that I was becoming tough—supposedly, anyway—that she forced me to wear this uniform for a picture. She’s on about protecting myself as a woman and all that.”

“You’re plenty tough,” Deen said. “You’ve beaten up many bad guys.”

Her hand returned to my head, slowly combing through my hair with her fingers. I tried to ignore her bullshit. At least she wasn’t toying with my ears.

“I don’t think ‘beaten up’ is the correct term for—” I began to say.

Deen lightly squeezed my head. “Shhh…”

“Huh? I’m just saying—”

“No talking about that, okay? We’re here on vacation. Sort of. Just two girls hanging out in Vegas and, um…”

“Going through photo albums,” I said, snorting. “Like this is super lame.”

“Lame is good. That means nothing bad is happening. We’re just relaxing. Don’t mention anything about you-know-what.”

“What if I do?”

“I’ll bite your ear,” she replied without missing a beat. She said it matter-of-factly, with no hint of a chuckle, that I wasn’t sure if it was a joke.

I didn’t respond to that and went on about my story about a crime happening back in college that convinced my ‘friends’ and me to take judo. Of course, we didn’t get serious about it, just doing the bare minimum to pass the class.

“Wait, I don’t get it.” Deen stopped scratching my head. “How come you’re fine with like wrestling—”

“Grappling,” I interjected.

“Oooh, Ms. Technical Terms. Anyway, why were you fine with grappling people in judo class? I thought you didn’t like physical contact.”

“Well, it really didn’t bother me that much back then. Also, fighting and hugging are different things. Thinking about it, I guess judo increased my dislike of physical contact.”

“So… if we hugged, and you think of it as fighting, you’ll be okay with that?”

“Deen, I’m warning you…”

“Just kidding!” Deen draped her leg over my shoulder, her thigh brushing against my head, and pointed at another picture with her toe. It was a photo of my visit to the Denver Zoo. “You look so cute and happy posing with the hippo. Can you tell me about this one?”

I tilted my head slightly left so my cheek wouldn’t stick to her inner thigh. “Can you tell me about what you’re doing?”

After talking about my aversion to physical contact, this bitch had to do this. It was obvious. The war had restarted. Deen had recovered from her massive defeat during our kiss and was now on the offensive, trying to gain the ground she had lost.

I wasn’t going to let her win.

“I wanted to point at a picture,” Deen explained, “and it’s too awkward to bend down and do it with my hand. But I can easily do it with my foot.” She tapped the photo again with her toe, intentionally scooting her leg across my shoulder to rub it against my neck and head. “Tell me about the hippo. I’m really interested.”

“Interested in the hippo?”

“No. I’m interested in you.”

I leaned my head back, the top of my head laying between her legs, and stared up at her. “Me?”

Deen’s eyes widened. “No! That’s not…” She narrowed her eyes, then raised her brows. It was funny seeing her brows move that fast. “I guess, yes? I meant to say that I’m curious why you look so happy here. That’s what I’m interested in. You’re smiling in most of your photos, but I sense something different here.”

“Are you sure you’re not imagining stuff?”

“How about you tell me?”

I looked back down at the photo.

Deen was right. There was something different with this one—I enjoyed my time at Denver Zoo, observing the animals’ behavior up close and not just through the TV. My smile here was as genuine as it could be; curious how Deen could tell. Maybe we were becoming closer?

“I like hippos,” I truthfully told Deen. Hippos were deadlier than lions and crocodiles and had powerful bites with spear-like teeth. That might be why I liked testing my jaws each time I transformed into Blanchette. “Hippos are super cute, but they’re also scary.”

“Cute and scary. Just like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I looked up at her again.

“It meant exactly that—you’re cute and scary.” She stuck out her tongue at me.

“Are you just going to leave your leg here?” I nudge my head at her thigh. It had a firm bounciness to it.

“Is it bothering you?” she asked, tossing a question to counter me.

If I say yes, she’ll know she got me. I wasn’t going to give her ammunition. “No, it isn’t,” I said. If I was going to bother her back, would I wrap my legs around her head too? And maybe squeeze, and squeeze so everything would be peaceful.

“Reeeaaalllyyy?” Deen placed her left leg on the other side of my head. “How about now? Am I bothering you?”

This fucking bitch. “Nope.”

“Is that so?” She kneaded my cheeks with her thighs.

“Deen…” I said, almost growling.

She spread her legs and let go of my head. “Think of it like we’re having a judo fight. Is that what you call it? Like maybe I’m doing a headlock, or a leglock, dunno which is which.”

“I don’t think what you’re doing is allowed in judo.”

“How about you teach me, Sensei Erind? Wanna play fight?”

“No, thank you,” I grumbled, flipping through the album to find a different topic.

“Let me help.” Deen held the edge of the page between her toes and turned the page. “See? The power of teamwork.”

I ignored her, pointing to a picture of my vacation in Indonesia. While I talked about it, Deen massaged my head with her hands and rubbed my cheeks with her legs. Though she wasn’t chuckling, I could feel her body heaving. She was holding back giggles.

“You like playing with me, huh?” I said, lightly pinching the bottom of her right leg.

“You’re like a doll.” Deen buried her fingers in my hair and scratched my scalp with her nails. She didn’t bother pretending to be clueless or deny what I said. “Of course, I want to play with you. I had plenty of expensive dolls as a kid, and I mostly played with them instead of other kids because my mother didn’t want me to.”

No one cares about your childhood! I raged inside my head. “I’m not an expensive doll, though,” I said. “Just a plain Erind doll you can buy at the mall near you. Nothing special about me.”

“If you’re a doll, I’ll buy you.”

I wasn’t going to try dissecting what she meant by that. I hastily continued going through the album and closed it upon reaching the end.

“That’s that,” I said.

I leaned forward to return the album to its correct spot and escape Deen’s hold. But she didn’t let me, pulling me back against the lower front of her chair as if her legs were car seatbelts.

I rolled my eyes. What would a hippo do in this situation? “Deen, I’ll bite if you don’t let go.”

“Bite? Are you seriously threatening to bite me?” She crossed her legs across my body and hugged me tighter, her toned calves pressing against my chest.

“If you don’t remove your legs, then, yes, I will bite you.”

“I dare you.”

I grabbed her ankles so she couldn’t pull away. “I bet your Guardian Angel is warning you to cut this out.”

“Maybe?”

I opened my mouth and sunk my teeth into her thigh.