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English
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Femslash Exchange 2014
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Published:
2014-10-18
Words:
2,069
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
9
Kudos:
189
Bookmarks:
12
Hits:
3,204

new wave mix tape

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Work Text:

I. There is a Light and It Never Goes Out

The music stops and Flaca looks down at the digital display on the Discman and sighs. What the fuck is it with the ancient technology here? She's already been through an eight pack of batteries and it's only been a week. Shit's going to get expensive. She opens her drawer, but there aren't any left, and her commissary isn't for another three days.

She sighs again and gets up off the bed and scans the dorm, when she notices a girl about her age, Maritza maybe? She's sitting at her desk with headphones dancing in her seat and singing just loud enough in Spanish that it could be annoying. But, this also means that she's probably got batteries. Flaca walks over to the other girl's cube and knocks on the wall. What's the protocol when you don't have a door or much privacy to speak of?

The other girl looks up from her People en Espanol and asks, "What the hell do you want?"

Flaca flinches. She knows she's got to put on her best tough girl act, but everyone she knows on the outside teased her relentlessly for how much of a wuss she is. Her primo Javier would always [figure out what to calll her, miedosa maybe? or something about flaca?] Ian convinced her to get the teardrop tattoo before she went in, hoping to give off scary vibes, but he just laughed when he saw her.

Flaca holds up the discman and points at the radio Maritza's got. "You got any extras? I don't get my commmisary until Tuesday."

Maritza sighs and pulls the headphones from her ears. "You're Flaca right? Fitting, you're too skinny. Do you ever eat?” She grabs the front of Flaca’s shirt, and god she’s so glad she’s finally out of that awful orange. She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something that bright on the outside. Flaca reflexively pushes the other girl’s hand away and realizes it’s the first time she’s touched another person in weeks. God, Ian better hop on his moped and get his ass up here soon. She’s so starved for human contact, she’s getting turned on thinking about hugging him.

“I eat plenty usually, but damn, have you seen the food here? My boyfriend fed his dog better than this.”

“Shh, don’t let Red hear you! She’ll have the kitchen workers starve you out. Anyway, I’ll give you some batteries, but then you’ve got to get me something when your commissary comes in.”

“Whatever happened to just doing a favor out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Girl, look around, we’re in prison. Fuck favors. It’s just cold hard goods here.”

Maritza pulls two batteries out of her drawer and offers them out to the other girl. Flaca takes them gingerly, carefully avoiding touching skin again. She isn’t sure how she’s going to take care of things if she gets too turned on.

“What are you listening to anyway?” Maritza nods toward the ancient Discman Flaca had dug up from her brother’s stuff.

“Nobody you ever heard of.” Flaca shrugs as she replaces the batteries.

“C’mon!” The other girl cajoles, going to grab it out of the other girl’s hands. Flaca flinches and Maritza pulls back. “Sorry, I forget sometimes that a lot of people in prison don’t like their space invaded.” She takes a few steps back.

Flaca smiles reassuringly, not wanting to explain that it isn’t fear, but sexual frustration. She’s holds out the Discman as a conciliatory gesture. The other girl puts the headphones on and hits play. She listens with a creased brow. The music is loud enough that Flaca can hear when it gets to the chorus. And if a double decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. The look of surprise and utter confusion on Maritza’s face makes Flaca guffaw. She holds her hands out for the Discman, but the other girl holds up her hand in a ‘wait’ gesture.

When the song is over, she hands the Discman back and says, “Well, there’s actually a lot of lights that never go out around here. The two girls start giggling uncontrollably.

(don’t you want me)

She’s not really sure when this place became ‘home’, but it did. And on Saturday nights, the rec room becomes ‘The Club’. They borrow an ancient boom box from Mr. Healy and pool their CDs and cassettes. (Flaca had never actually handled a cassette until it was her turn to DJ and Gloria came out with a well-worn Lisette Melendez freestyle tape and asked her to put it on. That was an interesting experience, especially when “A Day in My Life Without You” started playing and it made her think of her mother. Then Gloria and Aleida started dancing and she, Maritza and Daya started cracking up.

One night, after playing the same shit as every week, Maritza sighs and asks, “Ay, Flaca, how come we never play your CD?”

Flaca shrugs and says, “I figure you guys wouldn’t be into it. It’s all moody white people music from the ‘80s.”

“Go get it, this shit is getting boring. If I have to watch Taystee and Black Cindy do the Single Ladies dance one more time… “

Flaca’s back in two minutes, and Maritza grabs the CD from her and puts it on. “I think we’ll just skip the first track. Everyone’s miserable enough being in here.” She goes to the second track and lets it play. Recognition dawns across her face. “Oh, I know this one!” She jumps up and grabs Flaca’s hands and drags her out on the floor to dance.

As Flaca realizes what song it is, she also realizes that she’s probably doomed.

When Maritza starts doing what’s supposed to be a ridiculous version of a sexy dance and Flaca’s more turned on than amused, she knows she’s doomed.

“C’mon Skinnygirl! Sing with me!”

As they bounce around singing Don't you want me! at the top of their lungs, Flaca realizes that Ian hasn't visited in three months and she really doesn't care.

(oh l'amour)

Flaca's not sure what the Greek lady puts in her hooch, but damn that shit's really kicking in. She and Maritza were supposed to be helping out with serving the snacks, but they just kept eating all the food instead and between that and the constant giggling, Gloria told them to just go because they were making her work harder. Also, this way if they got caught for being drunk off their asses, she couldn't get in trouble.

They're leaning against the snack table, watching all the white girls dancing to some country song. They're all in a line and clapping their hands, and it just looks ridiculous. Blanca points out Daya and Bennett sneaking back in with guilty looks on their faces. "Good thing she's already pregnant." They all laugh.

The song changes and Maritza pulls Flaca out on the floor to dance. Flaca's an objectively terrible dancer, she knows this. But it doesn't matter when she and Maritza are competing to see who can get closer to the ground without falling over. When they notice that Bennett's alone on the side of the room, they decide to head over to him and try some blackmail. When they start making their demands after insinuating that they know that he and Daya are still hitting it even though she's already knocked up, he gets such an "Oh shit!" look on his face that it's all Flaca can do to suppress laughter as they walk away.

"So, you're asking for more of your old-ass music. Isn't that CD enough?" Maritza snarks at her.

"Most people like having more than one CD to listen to, okay? Besides, it's better than what you asked for. Mouthwash, what's up with that?" She pokes the shorter girl in the shoulder blade, and Maritza slaps back at her noncommittally.

"I just want to be minty fresh in case I actually run into someone in this place worth kissing."

Flaca pulls up short. "Wait, what? Are you talking about going lezzie like all the white girls, or?"

Maritza laughs at the confusion on her face. "No, I thought maybe one day we'd get some hot C.O. around here. A guy with both legs, and well, you never know.

Suddenly, Oh l'amour, broke my heart, now I'm aching for you comes over the speakers, and Maritza pulls her onto the dance floor and says, "Hey grandma, they're playing your song!" Flaca closes her eyes and grabs the shorter girl's hands as they swing and twirl around the room.

Later, in the kitchen, the thought of ACT mouthwash pops into her head just for a second, but then it gets lost in the intensity of everything else.

(somebody)

It's been two weeks since the Valentine's kiss, and Flaca's still turned around. Thankfully Maritza doesn't run screaming every time she sees her, but at the same time they haven't really been hanging out much. Maritza uses needing to help Daya with her pregnancy as an excuse, but Flaca's not a moron. No scratch that, Flaca's a complete moron, an idiota, because she's laying on her bunk listening to Martin Gore singing a ridiculously sappy love song that when Ian first made her this CD when she was just a teenager with a huge crush, would always make her think of him. And now, no matter how hard she tries, she can't get Maritza and her goofy smile and stupid star-spangled paper penis out of her head.

When she gets to the line Though my views may be wrong, they may even be perverted, her breath hitches and she turns toward her wall. Which means that she doesn't notice anyone's in her cube until the bed dips. She turns back around to see Maritza sitting at the bottom of her bed, looking pensive.

"What's up?" she asks, as nonchalantly as possible.

"What are you listening to?" Maritza asks as she holds out her hand for an earbud. They've done this a million times, sat on a bed and listened to music together, but Flaca hesitates. Maritza's looking at her with confusion, so Flaca relents and hands over one of the buds. Maritza puts it in her ear.

Figures you'd be listening to your emo-ass CD from Ian. Did he ever tell you what happened on Valentine's Day?"

This is not emo, idiota. It's new wave. And he sent me a card saying he was sorry, but it was too cold to drive the Vespa all the way up here. But he promises he'll make it up to me when the weather gets nice. He asked about having a fucking picnic like this is camp or something."

Maritza rolls her eyes, mumbles "Cabrón" and leans her head back and closes her eyes to listen to the song. Flaca inhales deeply and holds her breath.

A minute or so goes by, and then Maritza lifts her head up and looks directly at Flaca and speaks, "I'm really not gay, you know. I love guys. I love fucking guys."

"I know! Me too!" Flaca responds defensively. "I'm dating Ian!"

"But it does get lonely here, and I dunno. Maybe those white girls are onto something with 'gay for the stay'." Maritza looks nervous and stares down at the bedspread.

"What are you saying?"

"Well, I mean, I liked kissing you. It was really hot, okay."

Flaca's entire body starts to tingle, she's not really sure what she's feeling, but she just knows she hasn't felt anything this strongly in a long time. "My sister used to practice making out with her friends. I guess being here, we're going to get out of practice. We might as well keep up our skills together. You know?"

Maritza shakes her head wisely. "Sounds like a plan. Soooo... when do you want to have our next practice season?"

Flaca laughs, a relieved burst of air coming out of her lungs. "Don't be such a nerd, wanting to study all the time!" She reaches out to hug Maritza, who whispers in her ear, "Ay, I only want to study because my teacher's really good at her lessons."

Flaca's already trying to remember when the two of them are next scheduled for clean-up and get the kitchen alone.