Miranda's First Girlfriend - An Excerpt from my novel Blood, Skin, and Ink

This is an excerpt from my novel Blood, Skin, and Ink.

This excerpt is a flashback to her early days in San Francisco. In her early years as a teenage runaway, she would shack up with various people in order to get places to stay, usually with unscrupulous men who were too chaotic to stay with for very long.

That changed when Miranda runs into scenester Static, a friend whom was not simply another shack up, but a woman who would end up taking her in new directions in her gutter punk life.

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     Miranda was headed for the city square where many gutter punks congregated. She had loaded up her pack and had left the keys behind in the apartment.
     Deemo had taken off a week before, right before an eviction notice had been pinned to his door. As much as Miranda had enjoyed an entire week of living by herself, she was not interested in risking a longer stay and having to tangle with any sheriffs or uptight landlords banging on the door.
     She was starting to get used to jumping ship. Before Deemo she had stayed with Sil, the BSA biker, at his place for a good solid three weeks until he abruptly kicked her out because his girlfriend, the partner that he had previously failed to mention he had, was coming back from her trip to the East Coast. Before that she had shacked up with Gus the doorman for the Ginny Joint Club in his small studio apartment. By the time she was with Gus she had developed the habit of taking her pack with her every time she left, which was fortunate since she showed up one day and found Gus gone, with his studio bolted shut with a padlock and a past-due rent notice tacked to the door.
     They were just the latest in the revolving round of men she coupled with in order to have shelter. It was something that had become routine for her by now. Unfortunately she was running out of people she knew who had viable places to live.
     Miranda ran into a few disheveled gutter punks who basically lived in the park, people who were either not up for squat living or were essentially banned from squats for extremely sketchy behavior. She took to wandering the upper part of Haight Street where oftentimes punks would either hang out, get cheap slices of pizza, and hit up tourists for spare change. She was hoping to run into someone who could help her out with shelter.
     More than anything she was hoping to find a new squat.
     She was unable to find anyone she knew on upper Haight. She started to think about where she might be able to sleep for the night, wondering if she should take a chance on a homeless encampment. She knew a few of the gutter punks well enough that she was confident they would give her a spot in their camps to crash, but she worried they might try to go through her pack while she was asleep, or possibly run off with it altogether.
     She was hoping, most of all, that she would find Sussy again. She had lost track of her when the police had swept through the park, chasing out all of the homeless and busting up their camps. She had not seen her since.
     Walking towards the park to see who she could find, she saw a familiar shock of bleached blonde hair.
     Static walked right up to her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Static had Miranda follow her up a long ladder, up into a crawlspace located on the far end of a long and empty warehouse. Miranda tried to hide her nerves as she made the climb up the long and thin ladder.
Static was a club regular, a short and thin woman who stood out because much of her wardrobe was not black, preferring to wear brighter colors such as white shirts and blue jeans, which was unusual for the scene. Even though she was a very short and thin woman, she carried herself like a much larger person. Her bright bleached blonde hair was always splayed out in all directions, making her look extra wild.
Miranda had talked to her more than a few times at clubs and parties and bars, but she did not know she lived in her own squat until Static offered to bring her back to her place.
Miranda was surprised when she saw her place. Her loft-like room had a long and wide futon that sat on a futon frame. She had a record player, a television hooked up to a DVD player, and a few bookcases crammed with books and magazines. There were shelves built into the walls with all kinds of trinkets, jewelry, and decorations. Stacked milk crates had neatly folded clothes. The old wooden long boards making up the floor of the place were clean and smooth.
Miranda had to slouch to keep herself from hitting her head on the low ceiling as she marveled at Staticʼs place. She had never seen a scenesterʼs apartment look so clean, well-cared for, and organized, much less a room at a squat.
“Sorry the ceilingʼs so low,” said Static as she put her pack down.
“Itʼs okay. Iʼm used to slouching.”
“All Iʼve got is the futon. I hope you donʼt mind sleeping next to me,” said Static as she softly ran her hand along Mirandaʼs arm.
Miranda knew what that meant.
She had never been with a woman before, but the idea of having her first girl-on-girl experience in order to “pay the rent” was not one that concerned her very much.
Lying down on the bed, Static turned towards her as Miranda lay flat and face up on her futon. Static scrunched herself up against Miranda.
Static started to move her hands over her, running her hand gently along her arm and then over her stomach.
“You want me to stop?” asked Static as she started to move her hand under her shirt.
“No,” said Miranda in a flat voice as she kept still.
Static moved a hand on top of her breast and kissed her neck. After a few more minutes Static sat up and slowly took her shirt off. She gently caressed and kissed her breasts, running her hands very lightly over her nipples, which inspired a quick shiver.
“You have beautiful breasts,” smiled Static as she continued to run her hands over her.
Mirandaʼs wide eyes concentrated on the ceiling. No one had ever complimented her breasts before. She thought they were too small and flat, but she never considered the idea that anyone found them to be nice, not even with the ones who had spent a lot of time playing with them.
Static spent some time kissing them and gently sucking on her nipples.
Static lifted her head. “Sorry. I like titties too much sometimes.”
Before Miranda could speak she started kissing her stomach, going lower and lower. Static spread Mirandaʼs legs apart.
Miranda looked back up at the ceiling as Static went down on her. She continued to space out as Static kissed and slowly licked with a soft tongue.
Miranda felt a warm shiver go through her. Then she felt a curious wriggling sensation just below her stomach.
Another wave went through her, a warm, tingling wave.
Miranda let out a moan.
More waves came up through her, starting from down below and spreading throughout her body, her torso, and her limbs.
She slowly rocked her hips and let out another moan.
Suddenly, she seized up, becoming rigid as her eyes popped open and her mouth let out a surprised gasp. She realized what was going on, what was about to happen to her.
Plenty of her male friends had gone down on her before, but she had never felt such sensations from the act.
The waves kept coming, warm and tingling waves that eventually started crashing through her body. They continued building until they were so frequent that she was wildly bucking her hips and panting with quick and high pitched yelps, much to her red-faced embarrassment.
Her body finally shook all at once, as if it was having its own personal earthquake, as waves of overwhelming pleasure made her head spin and her body convulse all at once.
Static put her arms along her side and rested her head on Mirandaʼs stomach.
Catching her breath as her tremors started to subside, she looked down at Static.
“How did you do that?” gasped Miranda.
Static tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Girls know how to work other girls. Especially me!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

     Miranda was sitting back on Staticʼs futon, eating a bowl of pinto bean salad which Static had made herself.
     She had not bothered putting her clothes back on.
     Static was sitting at her desk eating her own portion of her home cooking. She had also not bothered to get dressed.
     Miranda marveled at how comfortable and at ease she felt with Static. She would almost always put some clothes back on after doing anything with anyone.
     This time was different.
     Miranda mused that her very first oral sex orgasm might have had something to do with it.
     “This is by far the best meal Iʼve eaten in a squat,” said Miranda.
     “This shit is so easy to make. I swear people in squats donʼt even try half the time. They just eat crap when itʼs more than easy enough to make something decent and healthy.”
     Miranda set aside her bowl. “Have you been at this squat for a while?”
     Static shrugged. “In and out. I get places sometimes. When I get steady work Iʼll sometimes rent a room in a house, and then Iʼll go back to a place like this if I want to save some money or I fall on a bad work stretch.”
     Miranda folded her hands on her full stomach. “What kind of work do you get?”
     “Sometimes a retail job now and then, but I hate that shit. That kinda work is always fucked up. The boss is always some spastic prick and the pay is always shit. I get more dough from stripping.”
     Mirandaʼs eyes got wider. “Stripping?”
     “Yeah. You should try it out.”
     Miranda held in a jolt. “No. No way.”
     “Why not?”
     Miranda turned her head away from Static. “Who would want to see me naked?”
     “Everyone wants to see you naked,” stated Static matter-of-factly.
     “What?”
     “Shit, guys would empty out their wallets to see you in the buff. Hell, Iʼm lookinʼ at you right now and Iʼm tempted to throw money at you.”
     “Because Iʼm really tall?”
     “Because youʼre a really tall babe. You got a killer body. Nice breasts, and you have an incredible ass! And a tall girl? Shit, youʼd make so much bank just for takinʼ your clothes off.”
     “Iʼve never done anything like that.”
     “Itʼs easy. And honestly, I donʼt find it nearly as depressing as working retail or fast food. Iʼd rather take my clothes off than flip burgers or run a register for chump change.”
     Miranda looked around the room as she thought about it. It was a strange feeling, having someone compliment her body. So many of the men she had slept with had never bothered to tell her that she was attractive. They certainly never complimented specific parts of her body.
     Static tilted her head and gave Miranda a pointed stare. “So what is your story? How did you end up out here?”
     Miranda bristled. Staticʼs question caught her off guard. She was still processing rarely heard compliments.
     Except for Sussy, no one in the scene had ever bothered to ask her why she was out on the street.
     The flashes came back. The clattering desk, the grabbing arms, the sickening thud when she hit the floor, the hands violently squeezing her…
     The blood.
     And the screaming.
     Her eyes trembled at the flashes of memory.
     “My parents. I just… I couldnʼt take them anymore.”
     “Both of ʼem?”
     Miranda nodded. “Yeah.”
     “They lookinʼ for ya?”
     Miranda thought about it for a moment. “I donʼt know. Maybe. Maybe not. I wouldnʼt be surprised if they didnʼt bother.”
     Static slowly nodded. “Yeah. Thatʼs not unheard of around our tribe.” Staticʼs expression softened. “Did your dad beat you?”
     Miranda nodded. “My ma too.”
     Staticʼs eyes popped open. “No shit? Damn. I heard aʼ plenty aʼ dads that beat the crap out of their kids, but mommas usually donʼt do that.”
     “They were always angry with me. Sometimes they would team up and smack me around at the same time.”
     Static stood up, walked up to Miranda, and knelt on the futon, right next to Miranda. “Did your dad molest you?”
     “No. He just beat me up.”
     “Wow. Okay.”
     Static fell silent. Her eyes looked lost as she looked over Miranda.
     “My uncle tried to molest me,” said Miranda. “He was always feeling me up when I was a really small child. I stopped him from doing that though.”
     “No shit? How did you do that?”
     “I bit his finger. Hard. Broke the skin and made him bleed.”
     Static sat back. “Fuckinʼ aʼ.”
     “I got punished for it too. They thought there was something wrong with me.”
     Static stretched herself across the futon and pressed herself against Miranda, putting an arm across her stomach. “If I ever see your parents, Iʼll kick the shit out aʼ them. Both of them.”
     Miranda gave Static a look. “My fatherʼs six foot eight, and he gets into bar fights all the time.”
     Static lifted her head and gave Miranda a hard look. “Fuck him. Iʼll take down that piece aʼ shit if he ever comes near you. Fuck his six foot eight.”
     Miranda felt a warm rush go through her. Staticʼs body heat emanated through her.
     She fought back a tear.
     It was the first time in her life someone had offered to defend her.
     She wrapped her arms around Static.
     She shivered.
     She felt as if she were in shock as her body warmed up.
     Miranda felt an unfamiliar calm go through her.
     She gazed at Static and Static nuzzled her.
     “My nameʼs not actually Elizabeth,” said Miranda.
“Okay.”
     Miranda looked at Static, perplexed. “That doesnʼt concern you?”
     Static turned her head. “You think my parents actually named me Static? Most of the sorry motherfuckers out there go by nicknames or false names. Shit, no one would know who the fuck you were talkinʼ about if you used my real name.”
     Miranda tilted her head. “What is your real name?”
     Static narrowed her eyes. “You first.”
     Miranda was suddenly gripped with a feeling of apprehension. She had not once told anyone her actual name since she had run away.
     Looking at Static, with her light hazel eyes and her bright bleached blonde hair and her soft countenance, she fought against the feeling she got when she gazed at her. She was trying to decide if she was really trustworthy, if she could really tell her such a secret.
     “My real name is Miranda,” she said, having shoved her doubts aside.
     Static simply looked back at her. “Okay.”
     Miranda leaned towards Static. “Your turn.”
     “You canʼt tell anyone.”
     “Sure.”
     “I mean, no one.”
     “Yeah, I got it.”
     Static looked back at her as if she were not sure she could trust her. “So tell me, how come you donʼt tell people your real name?”
     “Didnʼt you say a lot of people donʼt use their real name?”
     “Yeah, but they go by nicknames like Shake or Scream or Stitch. They donʼt usually come up with some plain Jane name. No one does that unless theyʼre hiding something.”
     Miranda looked at Static for a moment.
     “Or theyʼre just really weird,” added Static.
     Miranda tried to sink into the futon. “It could get complicated if certain people found out my real name.”
     “Complicated how?”
     Miranda felt herself squirm. “Like, if the cops ever found out who I really was.”
     Static slowly nodded her head. “Any chance Iʼm gonna hear that story?”
     Miranda paused.
     “Itʼs better for everyone if you didnʼt,” said Miranda finally.
     Static got quiet. She let go of Miranda and stood up. She picked up an old acoustic guitar and handed it to Miranda.
     Miranda looked at Static quizzically as she sat up with the guitar.
     “Lets jam!” smiled Static as she grabbed another acoustic guitar.
     Miranda held out the guitar. “Iʼve never touched one of these things before.”
     “So?” replied Static as she tuned her guitar.
     “I donʼt know how to play!”
     “Itʼs easy,” said Static with a wave of her hand. “Iʼll teach you a few power chords and we can get jamming.”
     Miranda looked at the guitar as if it were some alien object she had just found.
     “Just give it a strum,” commanded Static.
     Miranda dragged a hand across the strings.
     “Okay, now try it while youʼre pressing down the strings with your other hand.”
     She only stared back at Static while letting the guitar fall in her lap.
     “Okay, hang on,” said Static as she got off of her chair and sat cross-legged on the bed next to Miranda.
     She showed Miranda a few simple power chords. Miranda watched carefully and tried to strum a few chords out.
     She was only doing it to humor Static, who had been so kind and generous to her.
     By the time they were done, Miranda was able to play a few simple songs.
     “We should keep practicing and start our own band,” smiled Static.
     Miranda brought her head back. “Get out. How the fuck am I going to be in a band?”
     “You just start one! Donʼt think about it. Just do it. Look at all of those awful bands with crappy musicians who donʼt know what theyʼre doing. They just do it, and they donʼt care that they suck.”
     Miranda looked down at the guitar. “I dunno. It all sounds really weird to me. I just canʼt imagine being in a band.”
     “Okay fine,” said Static as she leaned in closer. “Iʼm just looking for an excuse to spend more time with you.”
     Miranda leaned away from Static. She could feel herself blushing.
     She looked away from Static.
     Staticʼs smile dropped. “Iʼm sorry. Am I embarrassing you?”
     Miranda looked down at her lap.
     “Whatʼs up?” asked Static as she brought herself closer.
     “No oneʼs ever said anything like that to me,” said Miranda in a strained voice, still keeping her head down.
     Static put a hand to her cheek. “Hey Miranda.”
     “Yes?” said Miranda quietly as she looked up.
     “You were naked for your first guitar lesson.”
     Miranda blushed as she smiled.
     “And so was your teacher!” smiled Static.
     They put their guitars aside and embraced.
     Mirandaʼs heart skipped a beat, as a woman half her size melted into her.
     She forced herself to hold back her tears.