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Radioactive Femininity
Chapter 68 - Kats Outta the Bag

Chapter 68 - Kats Outta the Bag

7ilZZua.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/7ilZZua.jpg]

Chapter 68 - Kats Outta the Bag

Yeah but some random nobody doesn't just have an amazing and inexplicable thing happen to them that changes their entire world and perhaps the larger world too.

...I was probably the worst person to make a point of that though.

Pinching my forehead, I settled, "Fine. But that's all still setup. I did plot setup and you did character setup. That doesn't make a story. That just begins one."

She stretched out a slim, narrow hand and challenged, "Then continue it from there. What happens to Sasha?"

My mind was a vast, wind-swept expanse of desolation. Like an area not far away and seasonally splattered with poppies and shrubs. I hated being there. It was like an oppression of absence on all sides. I had no stories. I had only myself. I resigned to this.

Callie scoffed, "What about all those tales of your stuffed animals from other worlds? The nefarious Dr. Mitten Hands with his body replaced with fabric patchwork and a heart of sand. Mister Black claiming to have created the different species of the universe and seeking ultimate control of their destinies. And the civilizations of animals building their way from one star to the next with self-assembling machines of ships that span the light-years, made of dark matter and stranger materials from other universes. And the dark energy creatures that ravaged them and forced former foes to work together. The forbidden love between different species. The ingenuity. All that. You have a spark for stories. You hide it, but it's always there, to light even your darkest moments. So...tell me a story..."

I could've pointed out that her account of my childhood tales was an absolute mess of continuity and details, but it was no worse than any version I'd worked through to make sense of the cacophony of images and adventure that spewed from my head. But...fuck it.

So yeah, Sasha started by frantically dashing through her father's vacant apartment, unaware that a signal from the stars was already turning heads. The silence was more haunting than any creepy noises could ever be. The mood of the moment was spoiled by chatter, laughter, and volleyball grunts, but I didn't mind.

I'd begun to unfurl a delightful mood when coach discovered our little island. I shed the delirium of my story and followed Callie to my feet.

Still, whispers of it stayed with me. Even in her spot on the court, I knew Callie was eager for more. The ball went back and forth, and I relaxed every time it was far from me. I could see Callie surging forth with energy and determination, always there for the ball, diving when needed, keeping it in-bounds.

As for me, I stretched my hands above my head and willed with all my hope there wouldn't be a painful or glasses-smashing ricochet. Mostly, I held out my arms and watched as the ball dove beside me for a point. Why go for a ball when you can't be sure you can do anything with it? However, I did manage to find the net on several occasions. Callie sliced through the air, her body jiggling with speed and enthusiasm. I was sore after a few minutes in, mostly from holding my hands up for so long.

I could see Callie spiking hard on the opposition and clapping to rally our team. I could see it but no one else could, because Callie was only inside my head.

She didn't mind and neither did I. I had a dense history of imaginary friends. The most recent ones trended towards human. Callie was pretty much perfect, as everything about her testified. She gave a clever little smirk to that notion.

Surprised? These were the kinds of things I tended to keep to myself or in the past. At a certain age, you have to do your best to appear as normal as possible. Not that anything in my life of late was helping but adding stuff certainly didn't. I could keep Callie under control when she showed up though. She didn't interfere that much, and I could manage when she wasn't really there. Same couldn't be said for those shadows and whatever the heck happened on Friday.

She made every play like an all-star as I let as many shots as possible tumble off my arms. She got all the high fives and I clapped gently to myself.

Returning to my side when class was over, Callie nudged me and noted, "You still owe me the rest of a story." Really though, I didn't. I wasn't beholden to her. I could've poofed her away with a thought, but she persisted.

I fed her mental snippets. A secret facility. A hidden cabal of people charged with the most ancient of secrets. I wasn't even sure if this was meant to be from the same story as Sasha's, but I dumped my buffer. It placated her as she moved like a spirit without regard for obstacles or the ground.

I didn’t spare the mental processes to imagine her changing clothes with me, but she did wind up in a different outfit. A familiar one for her. A lime green tank top and a matching skirt with icy-blue sandals. Sometimes it took on a more formal appearance, but this made sense for the dress code. She’d gone through a phase where she had glossy nails and eye shadow the same tone as those sandals. Green suited her better.

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While it would’ve been fun to keep up a pretend conversation with Callie through the waning moments of the period, my mind shifted to Lea’s Spanish class. Callie faded from a tangible presence to a ghostly reflection. No words of parting. She never really left. I just didn’t need her for now.

I needed to know that Lea had a good first period. Even though we made no promises, I would make every effort to at least walk beside her for a few seconds between Spanish and Chemistry.

Clutching the straps of my backpack like a lead parachute, I shuffled down the small slope at the edge of the blacktop. I traced around where Nats had stood. The long grass was still bent. I pushed it the other way with my trudging steps.

I circled the edge of the last classroom and made my way down the row. Nats was already there, pacing between buildings, her attention on the barred, tinted windows to Lea’s classroom.

Stretching my back, I stepped cautiously towards her. She didn’t notice me till she started to turn around for another loop. Nats leveled her head and dropped her arms at her side.

With sullen but calm words, she reacted, “Hello…again.”

I offered only a quick nod and a quicker, “Yeah.”

Turning her attention back to the window, Nats stated clearly and methodically, “Now go away.”

I made no move but to gaze at the same window. “Can’t. I’m waiting for someone.”

She gave a rough sigh and a pained breath through the words, “…Fuck you.”

But she didn’t come swinging at me or with her claws bared. She kept her laser focus on the window.

“Not interested. And I’m not interested in Lea like that either.” There were definitely better and less smart-ass things I could’ve said.

Nats made her fists again. “I don’t care. I don’t care about you and whatever the fuck you say. I care about Wes. And that’s why I haven’t slammed your fucking bitch ass into the ground…” That was enough to get a few nearby early escapees from classes to pause and turn our way.

I had plenty I could’ve said in response, but it was interrupted by the long, charging elephant trumpet of the period bell. We both stepped aside with the surge of students. Towards the middle of the stream, Lea’s pink rays poked through the otherwise dull colors.

She waved over the rail and called out, “Nats! Kenzie!” Bounding down the ramp, she snagged both of us into a sudden, eager hug. Being pressed to Nats gave me the feeling of being taped to a volatile, feral cat which might go off at any moment. I didn’t look at her expression but I could only imagine revulsion would be too kind of a description.

Lea finally released us and asked, “Did you both have a salutary first period?”

Nats sidestepped away from me and answered first, “I got through it, despite some stuff.”

“We smacked a ball over a net. Sometimes.” I rubbed my hands for emphasis. Nats didn’t send me a look. She just asked Lea, “How was your class…babe?”

Covering a slow yawn, Lea edged out of the way of traffic and remarked, “I felt exculpated about returning my loaner back to my teacher. Still was a bit lonely. I didn’t have the gumption to unmask myself to anyone.”

Pouting, Nats noted, “Well, I’m here for you.” I chimed in, “So am I.”

Smiling warmly and equally on us, Lea shifted and said, “Thanks but I need to take a restroom sabbatical before passing…uh, period…passes me.”

Nats leaned forward to offer, “I’ll go with ya.”

I waved to Lea and conceded, “I gotta go, but I’ll see you third.” I could’ve stayed. At least for a few minutes but the tension and energy required to deal with Nats, well, it wasn’t quite as challenging as dealing with my mom, but it was just one more thing.

It was Lea’s turn to pout. She darted over to give me a quick hug and affirm, “See you then!” I avoided Nats’ gaze. I couldn’t rule out that she might still try to slam me to the ground.

Slipping through the strings and strands of people, I made my way to Biology. A new week. Maybe Ben wouldn’t be so afraid of me. At least I could hang out around Rebecca or Kats.

Shaking off worries about Lea and fears about Nats, I slipped into the room and ambled towards the teacher’s office. Kats stood over by the door with her dirty-blond hair pulled in a neat bun. She raised a hand with a smirk. Probably eager to have my aura clear out her pores again.

I greeted her and didn’t get far before she blurted out, “You’re like totally famous now.”

Curling my lips back, I asked what she meant.

Her gaze was radiant and proud.

“I got you on the news. Isn’t that awesome?”

I stood there silently as she continued with an excited hush, “My cousin works at a station over in Burbank. I told her all the cool stuff you can do and they’re gonna put you on TV!...Eeee! So cool, right???”

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Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist