94.)

Changing out of the diaper was bittersweet. I had only been wearing it for a few hours and I definitely felt like I was wasting it. At the same time, I knew we had to get going and the idea of leaving the house in a diaper was the greater of two evils. I balled the diaper up and thought about stuffing it in my backpack. It was dry, and maybe I could get some duct tape to put it back on later. But even if I did, where would I throw it away? Attends were a lot smaller than Megamaxes, and the trash bin in my room wasn't that big. Anyway, it felt kind of creepy stealing diapers from Blossom's beach house. So after I got dressed, I went across the hall and threw it away in the black trash bag. I tied off the bag and brought it downstairs with me, trying to help out.

By the time I got downstairs, I was feeling a little more awake. I had a glass of water from the kitchen sink and tried to shake off the nausea. That was what it felt like: a dreamy nausea. Blossom took the bag outside to the car. There was a dumpster up the road; garbage trucks didn't come to the beach house. She locked up the house, turned off the utilities, and then we were on our way. Blossom had boxes of sugar cookies and soft pretzels on the back seat.

"This has been such an amazing weekend, cupcake. I'm excited to get some food with you as like... the icing on the cupcake. Have you had a good time? You got so much writing done!"

Blossom was good at driving and chit-chatting at the same time.

"Yeah, it was a nice reprieve after finals and all that." I sunk down in my chair and rubbed my eyes. "When do those onesies come in, do you know?"

"Before next week for sure," Blossom answered.

"Hm..." That made me wonder... "What are you doing for break, anyway? I mean, like... you don't have school or tutoring, so maybe we could come back earlier than Friday?" I sure didn't have much going on. Actually, I was hoping to get more Academy Works done now that I could be home while my mom was at work.

"Oh god, I wish I could. I've been neglecting Becky and she's got her panties in a bunch, so I need to make some stuff right there, and I need to help with some Sorority stuff, and then I've also got to grade homework that I gave my Italian tutees, and it's just gonna be such a busy week."

Honestly, these weekend jaunts were just as beneficial to Blossom escaping her obligations as they were for Amy getting a place to write.

"You do sorority stuff over break?" I asked.

"Mostly recruitment talk," Blossom sighed. "Winter recruitment is a lot easier than the fall, since there are less people rushing."

"Are you... important?" I can't believe it took me this long to ask that.

"Yes and no. I'm the VP of External Affairs, which means I network with other sororities and fraternities, manage collaborative events, and send out correspondences. I'm a people person, so it's an easy job. But the beginning of each semester is a total mess. I just got the job last semester and it went pretty smoothly, but I had help. This time I'm on my own."

"Wow..." I admit, I was a little impressed. "So it's not all drinking and partying?"

"Well, there's still a lot of that," Blossom joked. "But no. Sororities are about networking and helping new students feel welcome. It's supposed to be a home-away-from-home."

"So your beach house is kind of like my sorority?" I asked, mostly joking. I'd never had a home-away-from-home.

"That makes sense to me. Only there's a lot less hazing." Although roleplaying out scenes of Academy and diapering one another could probably make for a pretty great hazing ritual in a different context.

"You always seem so surprised when you learn stuff about me, you know that?"

"I guess I just have a certain schema of you in my head, you know? And you're constantly defying it." Actually, I was kind of jealous that Blossom was doing so much with her life. Other than writing and school, I didn't really do much of anything.

Maybe I should get a job. I had one when I was seventeen for a while - retail work at a clothing store - but I quit after having one-too-many panic attacks in the changing rooms. Since then, I hadn't even looked for a new job. It would be nice to buy stuff again... maybe I could eventually get my own car.

"I think it's good to have our preconceptions challenged ~ it's an opportunity for growth, don't you think? I admit there are a lot of the sisters that are less..." She thought hard on finding the right word. "Ambitious? Ambitious is what we'll go with. But yeah, I'm always busy, so it's not all good all the time."

"Maybe we could hang out during the week or something?" I asked. "After you're done with whatever you have to do?"

Blossom gave me a sideways look and turned her attention back to the road. I knew that look.

"We don't have to," I amended.

"It's just... how do I put this without sounding like a jerk..." Blossom paused for a moment. "I just don't want anyone seeing us together."

"Wow. I can't even imagine what it would sound like if you were trying to be a jerk."

"Amy," Blossom pouted. "I just don't want–"

"I know. Spheres. I'm just kidding." I wasn't kidding entirely - her comment upset me a little. But I knew where she was coming from. "I only asked because the first time we talked, you mentioned going out or coming over."

"I was a little desperate," Blossom admitted with a small laugh. "I wanted to talk to you more..."

"Well..." I sighed. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, I really don't. I can still be part of your life without being part of all of it. I know we're friends."

"It's hard to know if you understand me, or if you're just really good at writing a girl who gets me, so you know what to say."

It was both a surprisingly cutting comment, but also a surprisingly vulnerable one. She didn't mean for it to sound so abrasive, but she did have the feeling and she was trying to lead by example. She had to share her feelings and be open with Amy, because Amy needed the good influence.

"Well, can anyone really understand anyone?" I asked rhetorically. "But I think I've got a pretty good idea at least. I know the whole spheres thing isn't personal, so I'm trying not to take it that way." I gave what I thought was my most convincing smile. I really was trying.

"I appreciate you, cupcake; I know between all the lusty gushing I do, and the showing off and all that, I don't get a lot of opportunity in there to gush about how much I appreciate you as a person. As a friend. So I just wanted... to remind you of that."

"Yeah, yeah..." I waved my hand, dismissing her reassurances. It was a little too much for me to handle. "So where are we getting food? Do you have a plan?"

Blossom seemed to brighten up at the change of subject and she nodded her head with a smile.

"Okay, so I have a Safe Option and an Adventurous Option. What're you vibing?"

"As long as it's not fish, I'm up for anything." The thought crossed my mind that where I truly wanted to eat was the place that would take longer. I was stalling. But I didn't let that thought reach contemplation, let alone my own lips.

"Fantastic! Indian Food it is. I looked up places that were rated most authentic and I learned a trick from a boy I dated a few years ago that you wanna look at the menu and see if they call it Butter Chicken or not. If they call it by its proper name, then it's probably an authentic place."

"That's a good little tidbit," I said. Then, reminiscing: "You know, we had Indian the first time I wore a diaper around you. Do you remember that?" Hell, it wasn't even two months ago, sometime before Halloween. "You walked in on me, like a story trope."

"Oh yeah! Eating in the restaurant is a much cooler experience, although it's missing the value of the story trope. Maybe you slip off to the bathroom to save face and then I walk in and you're there just standing inside the door, wetting your diaper, and I'm like oh my goodness, are you wearing a DIAPER?! Or maybe you aren't wearing a diaper and you've gone to the bathroom five times during dinner and I get pissy at you and decide that your bladder is being disruptive, so I decide to keep you in diapers."

"Both of those ideas are significantly worse than anything I could come up with," I laughed. The worst part was, I'd probably read either of those stories.

"Well, what's your idea, smarty-pants?"

"Oh, uh..." It didn't take me more than ten seconds to think of something. "So it would be a first date, maybe blind? In the story I'd be a picky eater. I would fuss about getting Indian food and I wouldn't eat anything I ordered. You'd be annoyed by the whole thing, making passive comments in your head about it like you're on a date with a kid. I'd drink too much soda pop or... maybe beer if they didn't card me. I'd probably Google what alcohol goes well with Indian food. But then when I went to use the bathroom, it would be out of order. Or, hm. Maybe there would be someone in there. I'd try maybe two more times, but someone was always in there. I'd wiggle in my seat while you ate, and you'd notice. Hm, I think I'd make your character into this, like you have a diaper bag in your car or something. Oh, maybe you have a Little, and you were looking for an actual girlfriend? But what you found was a girl at dinner who was acting like a brat? That could work. Then, hm... maybe..."

I paused.

"See, I think just wetting myself is unrealistic. And you following me into the bathroom and diapering me is unrealistic. So maybe... you get me another glass of wine. And you excuse yourself to use the restroom. And then you find that it's open, so you quickly lock the door and close it so everyone thinks someone is in there. When you get back, I hurry after you to find the door locked. I return, whimpering and pouting. After dinner, you ask me if I want to go for a walk in the park or something. I say I need to find a bathroom first, and you kind of laugh at me. Like 'what, you can't hold it?' And my pride gets the better of me, and I'm a little drunk, so I go for the walk. It's unbearable. Then... hm... do you think it's fair to wet myself then? It might be twilight, no one around..."

"I think that's totally viable. Maybe the park has a playground for kids, and we're walking past it, and you're pretty drunk anyway and I suggest you go down the slide. And maybe when you do, that's when you lose control? And I catch you in my arms like a doting Momma at the bottom and so I immediately notice that you're wet. And of course, you cry, and I praise you, and you imprint on me~"

"Yeah..." Sometimes I really wonder if being a writer is very impressive, or if it's even a talent, but listening to Blossom's ideas... it really was an ego boost. They weren't bad ideas, but gosh were they unbelievable.

Blossom turned off the next exit and drove us into a small town. The Indian place was in the back of a strip mall, and there was not a park or a slide anywhere near us. So much for that theory. And anyway, neither of us had any diapers in the car. The misfortunes of reality.

We spent two hours in that restaurant, talking about things that probably wouldn't interest anybody other than Blossom and me. I didn't get wine and Blossom didn't lock the bathroom door. Neither of us wet ourselves, and nobody changed anybody into a diaper. Actually, the whole thing was mundane. The whole thing was really nice.