Karyn's bedroom smelled a lot better than a boy's locker room, and as she fell asleep, comforted in her familiar body with her familiar blanket, she too began to dream.
"Scrambled eggs?" she asked her living room as she found herself sitting sideways on the sofa. "Why does my mouth taste like scrambled eggs?"
"Because you're eating scrambled eggs, honeybear," came the voice of Karyn's mom from behind her.
Karyn couldn't remember eating scrambled eggs, but as she looked to the coffee table beside her, sure enough there was a half-eaten plate of them sitting right there. "Why am I eating scrambled eggs?"
"You weren't feeling well this morning," Karyn only realized just then that her mom was actively braiding her hair. "I made you scrambled eggs to help make you feel better." Normally it felt nice for her mom to braid her hair, but right in that moment it made Karyn feel... fidgety.
"Well, I'm feeling better now," Karyn groused, "and I kind of want to get up and move around."
"Not until I'm finished," Bethany punctuated with a small tug of Karyn's hair. "You're going to graduate this year, and then you go off to college, and I want you to be my little girl for as long as I have you."
"Okay, fine," Karyn said with a teenage pout. She didn't want to feel like a little girl, but she supposed that she could play the part just a bit for her mom.
But she had to fight her own restlessness to do it. She focused on the objects along the wall in front of her as a distraction: the hanging family portrait of herself and her parents, the little Mayan statuette that they'd gotten on their trip to Mexico, Karyn's old Junior Varsity football trophy.
No. Wait. Something was wrong.
"Are you done?" Karyn's restlessness was only getting worse.
"Not yet, honeybear." A few more gentle tugs.
Karyn's eyes kept scanning the room, and fell on her set of barbells. What were they doing downstairs? They should be up in her room.
No, she didn't own a set of barbells, did she?
"How long does it take to braid some hair?" Karyn asked, trying to hide the urgency in her voice.
"However long it takes. Just be patient."
Over in the little alcove that held the door to the garage, Karyn saw the basket where her dad always kept his fishing rods. At least twenty slender things poking up from the basket on the floor, almost touching the ceiling. She began counting them as a distraction. One, two, three rods. Four, five. She lost count, started over. Three, four, five six. She lost count again. Four, five, six, seven. A sound, like hollow rubber. The basket next to the rods had fallen over, releasing a dozen footballs rolling across the floor.
"Mom, are you done yet?"
"Almost."
There was a picture on the bookshelf that Karyn didn't recognize. She could tell that she was in it, but it almost looked like she was kissing someone. But she couldn't quite make out who it could--
"Alright, Babe, I'm done. You can turn around now."
That wasn't Karyn's mom's voice. Karyn squinted harder at the picture. It felt extremely important suddenly to know who else was in it.
"What, after all that fussing you're not going to come look and see?" There was a playfulness to the voice that Karyn didn't want to acknowledge. "You were so patient while I made myself pretty for you."
The picture on the bookshelf coalesced. The voice behind her connected. Sarah. Sarah McMillan. And for a moment Karyn felt a panic, but then that panic went away.
Of course it was Sarah. Sarah was her girlfriend.
Karyn turned around on the sofa. No, not on the sofa, on the locker room bench. And she was rewarded with the most beautiful view in Lake Point High School: Sarah McMillan in her cheerleading uniform, her face perfectly made up, her hair in a braid, and her eyes fluttering seductively.
Karyn couldn't take her own eyes away.
"Oh my god, they're so cute together."
There were other people in the locker room. Other girls in the locker room. But Karyn only had eyes for Sarah.
"It's like Karyn just can't control herself whenever Sarah's around."
It was true. Karyn suddenly found that she couldn't control herself. Sarah put a sly finger on Karyn's shoulder and pressed her backwards. Not hard enough to actually move Karyn, but enough that Karyn got the instruction, that she was to lie backwards onto the bench.
"Yeah, she just turns into like this primal, sexual animal. She can't help it."
The back of Karyn's head touched the wood of the bench, and her arms came up almost on their own to reach for Sarah's face and pull it down to meet hers. Karyn was on her back, her legs spread out on either side of the bench, feet on the floor, as Sarah straddled her from above, and both bodies writhed in unison.
A wave of cheers arose from the spectating girls, and it just spurred Karyn on harder. Faster. More desperate. Her hands explored Sarah's bared midriff, even as Sarah tore Karyn's sweater open. It was like there was a button that Karyn desperately needed to press, but she didn't know where it was, and she knew that Sarah was the only person in the world who was allowed to press it. But maybe if Karyn found Sarah's button first, it would force her hand.
Karyn's fingers dove down into the waistband of Sarah's skirt, sliding against skin, slipping under her panties, gripping at her buttcheeks. And Sarah's hands tore off Karyn's top and wrapped around Karyn's back to undo her bra.
And Karyn reveled in the feeling, and she began gasping, and the girls in the locker room started gasping in time with her, and then--
ERRRT ERRRT ERRRT ERRRT
Karyn's alarm clock woke her up. She was in her bed. She was in her body. And she was covered in sweat, and feeling hornier than she could ever remember being. She blinked away the sleep, trying to remember what she'd dreamed about, but it was fading quickly. Something in a locker room. Something about scrambled eggs.
It couldn't have been too important.
