25.)
When Blossom came back inside, she was holding something behind her back. Her heart was racing, and Blossom wasn't sure that she wasn't making an awful mistake. But Blossom was no stranger to taking leaps of faith, and the tall girl held out a purple leather-bound album in both of her hands, for Amanda to take.
"Here."
She continued to hold it out and bounced up and down on her toes.
"Take it so I can sit down alreadyyyyyyy!"
"Uh... okay...?" I had no idea what this was about, but it sure wasn't what I had expected. She wanted to level the playing field, right? What did that have to do with a photo album?
I took the album out of her hands and she sat down next to me on the couch, probably a little too close. The depression of the cushion made my diaper crinkle and I tried to focus on the book instead.
Blossom had been in front of thousands of people for cheerleading, but that didn't make her even half as nervous as this. But it was a good nervous, right? It was an "I'm doing a good thing" kind of moment. Blossom felt like it kind of fitting to share childhood-ish pictures of herself with a girl who was sitting here, in a diaper, as kind of child-ish herself.
"Now babes, I gotta warn you, what you're about to see is something nobody ought to ever see; it's Blossom Kryptonite and I'm trusting you with it."
Without further hesitation, Blossom leaned over and opened the album for her new friend.
Blossom Goes to Arizona! was arched across the top of the page, in old MS Word clip art. Pasted right in the middle of that page was a photo of a gawky looking brunette girl with long hair down most of her back, in two braided plaits; her smile was adorned with very prominent braces. She was short, dumpy, unremarkable. And she was wearing a Supernatural shirt and an awkwardly fitting pair of faded jeans.
"Woah..." I mean, Blossom had made reference before to her being kind of a dork in middle school, but I sure underestimated it. Everyone was kind of a dork in middle school, right? But the girl in the picture... she really didn't look like Blossom at all. And the album was more of a scrapbook, clearly put together by a kid. By Blossom.
I was quiet for a moment as I leafed through the pages. At first it was kind of funny. I smiled to myself, seeing my tall busty bully in the form of... well, something closer to me at that age. Awkward. Flat-chested. Oblivious. But as I saw pictures of her with the Grand Canyon and sipping chocolate milk at a restaurant and different sundresses she was wearing, it was a lot less funny. Actually, Blossom seemed... a lot more like Blossom than I originally gave credit. It was something about her eyes, or her smile. She was so... radiant. She still looked like that nowadays, like everything was still right in front of her.
"You look happy," I finally said. It was the first thing I said other than some light laughter. "You went here with your dad?"
Blossom wasn't sure if she expected Amanda to ridicule her, but that was honestly more of a Blossom thing to do anyway. Maybe it wasn't all that surprising that she didn't, but it caught Blossom off-guard all the same. She felt a warmth in her chest and smiled, nodding softly.
"Yup, just me and Dad. He wasn't often home because you know, single parent and all, and his work is a pretty serious thing. He'd always try to make time for me, but vacations? He lived for vacations. We'd sit and plan them out together - we'd always drive, always - and every little stop we made was decided on together."
"That's so sweet." I flipped the page, a picture of Blossom in front of a large wooden carving of a bear. She was wearing an expression of mock fear, like the bear was attacking her. It made me smile.
"My mom and I don't really do vacations," I admitted, flipping the page again. "We usually don't have the money. But when I was growing up, she was really pushy about always having dinner together. Sundays we would go out somewhere. We don't really do that anymore though."
"That kind of weekly tradition is super wholesome."
Blossom wanted to ask Did you grow out of it?, but given that Amanda was in a diaper, maybe that wasn't the most apt approach. The topic actually brought a bit of a guilty look to Blossom's face for a moment, but she shook it away hopefully without notice.
"I guess love finds ways to shine in every situation," I said. Blossom had money and a busy dad, so she got to go on long vacations. I didn't have money and a mostly-present mom, so we got dinner together every night. Adaptation at its best, I supposed.
The photo album had all sorts of cute touristy stuff, including a very happy looking Middle-School-Blossom on her hands and knees in the dirt, creeping up on a pair of squirrels as though she were one of them.
"This is a part of my life I don't let people know about, and when I got hit with the puberty stick and people started to notice me... I overcorrected pretty hard, and that's why I was such a megabitch in high school. I got bullied and picked on all through middle-school, because hey what the hell does an only child with a single father know about being a pretty girl, right? So I swung waaaay out in the other direction, and it was super sucky of me... I was a total bitch to my Dad during those years too, and it totally broke his heart."
"How are you guys nowadays?" For as little as I hung out with my mom, we were still pretty close. She didn't know about my baby stuff, but why would she? It was more of a kink, right? You don't usually share kinks with your parents.
Blossom thought about it for a moment, pursing her lips as though she were trying to figure out the best way to word it.
"Nowhere near as close as we used to be. When I started college, he took a higher responsibility role with Boeing, and he's only even in the state a couple of days a week. And don't misunderstand; we love each other! But I'm not his little girl anymore, and I wasn't subtle about making that known back then - it was one of the only times I've ever seen him cry."
"Teens make stupid mistakes," I said, which was a little more meaningful than I had intended. In high school, Blossom made a lot of stupid mistakes with me too. I sighed and closed her photo album, leaning back on the couch a little. "I'm sorry if I don't trust you sometimes. But I want to. And I'm going to try. So... thank you for showing me this."
Blossom smiled and exhaled, relieved that her gesture hadn't been taken the wrong way, and she leaned back on the sofa next to the crinkly girl, neck arched back to look at the ceiling.
"Thanks for giving me a chance, babes. You're... pretty remarkable. I haven't really gone after anyone before, not like this. I don't know if that makes you feel special or not, but it's something unique to you."
"I guess so?" I didn't really chase anyone either. I guess I was quick to write people off. Lin and I were only friends because she was so chill about everything. I sunk into the couch and played with my fingers. If I was going to trust her, then...
"Wanna read the new chapter?" I asked nervously. I hadn't even heard back from my editor friend. It was such a raw draft...
"...for real?"
The offer caught Blossom completely off-guard, and when she realized it wasn't a joke she sat right on up and nodded her head.
"Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to! Holy shit."
I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks were pink. I had only ever shown my drafts to one other person, and never in real life. Not like this. I wasn't sure I could be in the same room...
"Lemme get my laptop," I muttered, getting up from the sofa. I crinkled as I rose from the couch, but it didn't seem to bother me as much. Right now, I had bigger things to worry about.
Blossom wanted to slap Amy's diapered butt as she stood - it was so tempting! - but the two were still pretty nascent. Besides, getting early access to Academy from Mia Moore herself? It was like Christmas.
I came back with my laptop in my hands and sat down with another crinkle beside Blossom. I opened up the laptop and typed in my password. I was a good typer, so it didn't matter if Blossom was watching: there was no way she could follow my fingers. Academy A popped up, since it was the last thing I was doing. I scrolled to the start of the chapter.
Chapter Seven
Earlier That Day
Wendy St. James fumbled with her hair ribbon, trying to tie her short black hair up into a ponytail. Strands kept falling out, framing her face, until she finally gave up.
***
(If you are following Academy Works, please read Ch.7 [linked above] and return here to continue the story. If Ch.8 has been released, it is recommended that you DO NOT read it at this time.)
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