Billie's Choice

Billie wrestled with the decision like a badger in a burlap sack. On one paw, Kate, her lifelong confidante, her partner-in-crime through every questionable fashion choice and ill-advised crush. On the other, Laura. Poor, sweet, perpetually-flustered Laura, who’d accidentally broadcast her most intimate fantasies to the entire student body – or at least, to the one student body member who mattered most.

Kate’s logic was, as always, a masterpiece of self-serving manipulation. “Laura’s a *virgin*, Billie. A *virgin*! She’s going to ruin everything. She’ll make us all look like we’ve been living under rocks. And Marcus… he’ll never look at me the same way if he thinks *that* was the best she could do.” The emphasis on ‘that’ was laden with an unspoken accusation, as if Laura’s dream had been a personal affront to Kate’s own, presumably far more sophisticated, nocturnal adventures.

Billie chewed on the end of her pen, the plastic leaving a faint, minty residue on her tongue. She’d spent the last two days in a haze of whispered consultations with Kate, punctuated by frantic, almost desperate, texts from Laura. Laura, bless her cotton socks, was oscillating between wanting to crawl into a hole and spontaneously combust, and a terrifying flicker of defiance, fueled by Marcus’s increasingly cryptic and surprisingly playful replies.