"Hey baby," my mother said, when she saw me. She hugged me, "how was your day with your new friends."

"It was fine, they’re really nice. They had shown me around the school and we had lunch together. It was fun."

"Well I had my worries."

"Why mom?"

"Well, new school, different state, I was scared these LA girls would be horrific."

"Mom," I said and laughed, "the stereotypes are not true. The girls at my school are fine and my new friends are cool. No need to worry mom, this was a good move. I enjoy my school, my teachers and my classmates. Everyone is real nice."

"That’s good to know. Are there any cute boys in your class," she asked and smiled, to which I turned red. No, I thought, but there is is one girl, scratch that, woman. Shaking my head no, I run up the stairs to my room to shower and dress for dinner.

We had a nice dinner and we all talked about our days. I talked about my school, the classes and the students. My parents asked me about my new friends and I told them everything I knew so far, leaving out the fact that they were lesbians. My brother made new friends with a group of skaters to which my dad sighed. He got onto them about being in school to learn not to skate. My mother’s first day of teaching at the college was an amusing one. Someone pulled the fire alarm and the first half of her day was cut short. My father, of course, couldn’t talk about his day.

After dinner I helped my mother clean up and I went to my room to start on my school work. It had only been the first day, so not many teachers had given assignments out. But I wanted to get ahead. It was my last year in high school and I wanted to end it on a high note for college. After an hour of reading had passed my phone rang. It was one of my best friends from home, Helena.

"Hello darling," I heard as soon as I picked up. Her English accent making me miss her so much. Helena was from London and had moved to Alexandria after her father made an aquisition of a company from a friend. They were rich, stinking, filthy rich and Helena was as spoiled as they come. She was snobby and big headed, but for some reason when she was around me, that seemed to go away. It was probably the fact that she was a lesbian and she had always been in love with me. After telling her several times it wouldn’t work, she finally gave up, but still treated me like a girlfirend, though we never kissed, she was always taking me out and spending money on me.

Helena was well travelled for a seventeen year old, having grown up in London, visited Paris, Milan, Spain, the Carribean, the States, of course, and Austrailia. She was always one to throw her money around and spend it willy nilly, but she had goals in life. Her parents had owned one of England’s most prestigious movie studios and Helena wanted to run a movie studio. I hadn’t yet told her about my interest in movies yet. She’d make plans for us before I could get a word in. She was pushy and a bit rude, but I loved this girl with my whole heart. We’ve changed each other’s lives and I’m glad she still wanted to be my friend, hundreds of miles apart.

"Helena! Aw, I miss you so much!"

"I miss you too sweetheart. How are they treating you in LA?"

"Great everyone is wonderful here."

"Any cute girls," she said and I hesitated before I said no, "hesitation Tina, who is she? Tell me everything!"

"Helena, it’s nothing, it’s no one."

"You are a terrible liar, spill it."

"Oh well, I don’t know."

"Tina, we’ll stay on this phone all night if we have to."

"Fine! It’s my friend Shane’s sister, well, Shane was adopted but she still considers her to be her sister."

"And?"

"She’s beautiful. She’s got muscular arms, abs to die for, long luscious brown hair and a smile that will melt your heart."

"Tina sounds like it’s time to come out of the closet."

"I don’t know Helle, it’s complicated. Yes this woman turns me on, but I don’t know if this is something I can spill right now. I don’t want my parents to be disppointed."

"You know what Tina, it’s your life, your heart and your love. They have nothing to do with that happiness. Do what you heart tells you," she said and I smiled, of course she’s right, "what’s her name?"

"Bette. Bette Porter."

"Bette Porter? As in THE Bette Porter, artist and gallery curator to the CAC?"

"Um, I guess, how do you know her? Oh God Helle, you didn’t."