Inside Straight

Light streamed hot and heavy through the bedroom windows. I opened one eye. I wasn’t dead, but felt as if I could do a remarkable facsimile of it. With a groan, I rolled over. Or I tried to. Ink was asleep next to me. Naked.

I glanced down at her body. It wasn’t covered in its usual tattoos. Her skin was the color of milky tea. There was a tangle of dark hair between her legs, and her breasts were small and tipped with delicate brownish-pink nipples. I tried to remember how we had ended up in bed together. But the throbbing in my head made it impossible.

I sat up. The room tilted for a moment, then righted. Now I felt ravenously hungry, but I knew it wasn’t just for food. I needed to be fat again. I needed to be able to bubble.

“You’re awake,” Ink said, stretching.

“Uh, yeah,” I replied. I wondered if Ink would bail on me when I got back to my Bubbles size. Or if she would bail anyway. I couldn’t remember if we had professed anything other than drunken lust.

“You were pretty drunk last night,” Ink said, making her the Queen of Understatement.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my face. “I don’t remember a lot after we all started dancing.”

Ink stretched again and I wanted to run my lips across her firm belly, then kiss and nibble in the dark thatch of hair between her legs. I had a brief memory flash of musky flesh and sweet, soft hair against my mouth.

“Well, you’d already consumed an enormous amount of champagne before I got to the Discard Pile,” Ink said. “The party was going full tilt, and you dragged me into the middle of the dancing. Then you told me I was your ‘Asian Princess.’ And after that, you carried me up here and we more or less canoodled until we both passed out.”

I moaned and hid my face in my hands. I was mortified. Why on earth had I called Ink my “Asian Princess?”

“I am so embarrassed,” I said.

“Why? I thought it was hilarious.”

“When…how…did you end up here? In Discards, I mean.”

Ink rolled over onto her stomach. Her bottom was a perfect peach shape. I dimly remembered nibbling on it.

“I’ve been lobbying to be the PA for the Discard Pile for a while. I knew you were going to be on the chopping block and I wanted to stay close to you.”

I felt a hot blush go up my face.

“But, but, I didn’t know you liked me…you know, like that.”

Ink laughed, and her bottom quivered. That’s really distracting, I thought.

“You can be kinda dim about some things, sweetie,” Ink said, looking at me coyly over her shoulder.

“Uhm.” Then I blurted out, “You didn’t sleep with me just because I’m skinny now, did you?”

Ink giggled. “No, I wanted to sleep with you even when you had that horrible black hair and that big, delicious ass. In fact, I kinda like the idea of a girlfriend who can be any size. Variety is the spice of life and all that.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that. Come to think of it, a girlfriend whose skin had infinite moods might be pretty amazing, too.

Ink rolled onto her side, then grabbed my arm and pulled me close. I hadn’t expected her to be so strong.

“Let me show you how much I like you.” She slid her hand down my arm. Then she put her hand between my legs and began to stroke me. She leaned forward and rained nibbly kisses on my mouth. “Next time we do this, you’re going to be bigger. I want your flesh—all of it.”

I tried to think of something to say, but I was at a loss. And everything Ink was doing felt so good that soon I gave up thinking at all.

~ ~ ~

“I just don’t know how she could do it,” I said. Ink was pulling her pants on, and I stared at her perfect bottom for a moment.

“Tiffani doesn’t look at it the way you do.” She grabbed her bra and slid it on. “Besides, you can’t dwell on it. You’ve got to think about where you’re going to go from here.”

I flopped back on the pillows. I was a failure. I would never be a hero. I’d wanted to do something good with my power. I’d wanted to make a difference. Now I was washed up.

“Are you wallowing over there?” Ink pulled her tight T-shirt over her head.

I put my hands over my face. “No…yes… maybe.” I knew Tiffani had screwed me over, but part of me still couldn’t believe what had happened. “Maybe DB got to her. Jetman said they had an alliance. Maybe DB lied to her.”

Ink came over and stood at the end of the bed. “Okay, enough of this,” she said, looking extremely annoyed. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

~ ~ ~

“I had a feeling you would be making excuses for Tiffani, so I had this copy made.” Ink pulled a DVR out of her bag and slipped it into her laptop. The DVR clicked and whirled. Then a QuickTime window opened, and I saw Tiffani sitting in the Confessional room. A marker appeared in the lower corner:CONFESSIONAL #30—DIAMONDS—TIFFANI

She was looking directly into the camera, her heart-shaped face framed with a corona of auburn hair. I wanted to hate her, but I couldn’t.

“Of course I’m playing a game,” she said with a slight smile. “Everyone here is playing a game. And if they’re not, they’re just not paying attention.