Jane Dunway was the perfect lesbian to many LGBT people at University of California, Berkeley. She popped a wheely before sliding her blood red motorcycle into a parking spot. Dunway took off her helmet, revealing her long, silky brown hair as it blew through the wind. Today was her pleather day and she promoted it with her tight pleather jacket and long pleather pants, accompanied by some spiky pleather boots. She was 5’9, tall, sleek like a cat with smooth chestnut brown eyes, a soft face that had never been touched by make-up and juicy rouge lips that covered a perfect smile. She looked like a cross between Angelina Jolie and Liv Tyler.
And she was late for class. Nobody’s perfect. But who needed class anyways? She was sick of wearing heels anyways. “Hey Dunway!” shouted a familiar voice. It was Jane’s best friend and super dyke Becky Bartstron. Becky had just cut her hair very short. Her long dark eyelashes pointing towards Jane. A smile upon her lips. Becky was very attractive in a butch way. She was also wearing an all black- a Counting Crows t-shirt and very baggy pants.
To go chemistry or not to go to chemistry, that is the question.
“Girl, is that another tattoo?” Jane addressed her best friend as they embraced. Jane sat with her friend happily. The day was too beautiful and perfect to be kept in class. Becky started talking about her brand new tattoo, which was an ankh on her left arm. However, in the midst of men running across the field throwing frisbees at each other, Jane saw a familiar face. A face that was so familiar that she didn’t dare try to approach her.
The quiet foreign exchange student was excruciatingly pretty. Jane couldn’t remember her name. It was Sandy or Shampy or something really ridiculous. Despite the ridiculousness of her name, Shampy was gorgeous. She had arrived in Berkeley a year ago and Jane first saw her in the ESL class in which she was a tutor. Jane also saw Shampy at the martial arts dojo that she taught classes in. The woman was not only gorgeous but was also very strong. If only… Jane thought.
“Shampy” or “Sandy”, whoever she was, was lying on a blanket placed on the grassy knoll with the textbook Feminist Theories in Asian American Culture sprawled in front of her. Her long purple hair flowed down everywhere on her tall but curvy frame. Her intense purple eyes looked closely at numberless words across the pages of the book.
“Sandy” put her book down and started running her fingers through her soft purple hair. Her long delicate hands started feeling her shoulder blades and started dropping smoothly toward her chest. “Sandy” sighed and tilted her head up as she let her face glow in the sunlight and her fingers cover the area between her perky breasts. She looked like she was enjoying it.
“Dunway, eyes front!” Becky shouted.
Shit. “Sandy” noticed.
The girl panicked and quickly scampered away.
Boer Hall was crowded as usual. The vast area of faces encircled the Professor and the center of the stuporing crowd. The new freshmen, who had their first bout of overhyped insomnia provided a cacophony of snores as the atmosphere for the droning lecturers.
Jane didn’t mind. Her passion for Women’s Studies kept her coming to this class. She flipped open her textbook “Modern Feminist Theories” and started to follow the professor word for word. In front of her, a gorgeous short haired girl turned and smiled. Jane also knew that Women’s Studies was also a great place to pick up chicks. Bicurious chicks that is.
Jane’s eyes wandered off the pages when a young woman burst into the room. It was the same girl with lusty long purple hair. And she looked tired indeed. “Excuse me,” the girl panted. “Is this Women’s Studies 25?”
“Why yes,” the professor looked up stoicly.
“I’m so sorry!” the girl started to babble. “My class schedule got really messed up. I thought the lecture was located in Bohr Hall. And then I ran to Boer and to Bore..but it turns out there’s no Bore Hall and…”
“Will you please kindly take your seat?” the professor snapped. The overwhelming spell of slumber restarted. The girl, flushed with embarassment sat next to Jane. She twirled her hair a little bit before taking out a tiny pink notebook and a long pink pen with a pink feather sticking out. She started to write furiously.
Jane tried to look away, blushing a little bit. She couldn’t stop thinking how gorgeous the purple-haired girl next to her was. The purple-haired goddess’ hair bobbed softly in the wind as the woman concentrated on the pink pages of her notebook. Jane noticed that the girl wasn’t really scribbling notes. She was drawing the woman in front of her. Jane watched as the pink pen moved swiftly on the paper. Dark black lines appeared on the pink surface, taking curvy forms, swishing with the wind, shading in the hair. She was capturing this one brief moment of the sleeping woman with gorgeous intrinsic detail. It was too sexy to resist.
Jane wrote on her notebook. “Cute picture.” She nudged the girl. A shoulder shook. The head turned around and now Jane was looking into the bright purple eyes. She looked away and started to write again several random notes. The words “penis” and “impotent” were the only few words that Jane had captured. She turned back to the pink notebook, which now also had beautiful cursive written upon it.
Jane smiled. “Have you taken drawing classes?” she scribbled.
“No, I just started doing it out of the blue.”
Finally the spell broke and the students walked out of class, knowing little more than they had entered. “You should definitely do some art for the café,” Jane smiled. “You have great talent and probably could sell it too.”
“Usually, I don’t have a lot of time on my hands,” the girl smiled. “Too much homework, so I just do it in my boring classes.” Jane pretended she didn’t hear the last remark. “Well, if you ever want to try, there is going to be an exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in San Francisco for young artists.”
“Well thank you for the offer, Jane Dunway.”
“How’d ya know my name?”
“Well, I’ve heard many things about you…a lot of people have.” That was when the cute Chinese girl dropped her books on the floor. “Ai yah!” she said “I’m so sorry!” Jane started to help Shampoo pick up the books. “It’s Shan Pu Lao but my friends call me Shampoo,”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you…Shampoo,” Jane said.
“Well, I gotta go,” Shampoo looked around nervously. She smiles for a brief second. “I’ve gotta go.” And she scampered out of the door again, tripping flat on her face, with Jane looking confused.