Chapter 4: Girls Watching Girls

On a weekend morning, free from the demands of a school timetable or anything she needed to do, Katherine would normally take it easy. She’d sleep in, watch TV in her pyjamas with a big bowl of some sugary cereal, and probably not actually get dressed until close to lunchtime.

Which would explain why, at 10 o’clock on this particular Saturday morning, she was struggling to resist yawning. Who was up and about this early by choice? she grumbled to herself.

She was at school. Or, more accurately, she was at the small sports hall on the school grounds. This was available to the public outside of school hours and acted as a normal, albeit fairly small, leisure centre. Katherine had never heard of such a thing but nobody else thought anything strange of it.

The reason why she was in this particular hall, far too early for a weekend, lay in the assorted bits of gymnastic equipment that filled the space. It was all being used by a collection of girls, some young and some her age or older, for a variety of exercises she couldn’t follow.

Gymnastics had never been Katherine’s thing. As the victim of bullying in her previous school, she’d steered well clear of anything that drew attention to herself. She had preferred to instead spend her free time either on her own or with her mother, a woman who appreciated the challenges redheads can often face.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know what gymnastics was, she just wasn’t interested.

“I like your top. It’s very retro.”

This was Yolanda. She and Katherine were sitting, along with some other people, on one of two long wooden benches that had been placed along one side of the hall, far enough away to give the various gymnasts some space.

Katherine’s very first impression of Yolanda had been somebody whose clothes somehow looked smarter than everybody else’s, even though they were all wearing the same school uniform. And this impression still applied. Katherine didn’t know much about fashion but even she could tell how well Yolanda’s clothes fit her, and how well they complimented her dark black skin. Yolanda looked good.

By comparison, Katherine felt badly under-dressed. She had very deliberately chosen the most inoffensive, impersonal, clothes she possessed for this morning. This was the first time her newfound friends would see her in anything other than school clothes and she was determined not to take any chances.

She muttered her thanks and tried to resist the urge to cross her arms thus ‘accidentally’ covering her t-shirt. It was ‘Retro’? What, she wondered, was so retro about it? She’d only got it a few months ago...

“We shoulda have brung popcorn. Anybody bring a snack or something?” came a voice from the bench behind her.

“We’re not at the movies, Fi.” a second voice replied. “You should have had a proper breakfast.”

“Feck.” the first voice grumbled.

These voices belonged to Fiona and Claire. That Irish twang and that sarcastic note couldn’t possibly have come from anybody else.

In the days since Katherine had first encountered these girls she had come to a much better understanding of them. She spent every lunch break with the group and shared some of her classes with them, although not all at the same time.

Yolanda was very clearly the one in charge. She was the one who told the other girls what to do. They often complained about it but Katherine noticed that, more times than not, what Yolanda said was what was done. Perhaps because it was she who hosted the big sleepovers where the bulk of the group’s sapphic shenanigans took place. Katherine had heard a LOT of stories about the girls’ kinky exploits by this point. It did nothing at all to help her sexual frustration.

Fiona, the one who asked about popcorn, was a nice and friendly girl who was more than prepared to hit somebody if they crossed her. It wasn’t so much that she had a temper, Katherine had realised, but more that she wasn’t afraid to stand up for what she believed in. Which was something Katherine found very intriguing.

She was also intrigued by Fiona’s accent. It seemed to come and go according to the strength of her feelings. When Fiona was particularly annoyed or excited about something she was practically incomprehensible.

Claire was an interesting one. Katherine had come to realise that the tall blonde probably wasn’t the cold-hearted monster she first thought. Claire had a fine line in sarcastic, dry, humour. Combining that with having a perfect example of ‘resting bitch face’ made the girl seem far nastier than she actually was.

Probably.

Claire was still a bit of a mystery to Katherine, if she was honest. She didn’t feel like she had really cracked the other girl yet. But the two got on reasonably well and that was a result in Katherine’s eyes.

That just left one person in her new group of friends. The short, irrepressible, hyper-energetic, ball of chaos that was the reason why she was here so early.

“Hey, there she is! Over there!” said Claire, echoing Katherine’s thoughts.

She followed the pointing finger and realised with a shock that she wouldn’t have noticed the last member of her friend group if they hadn’t been pointed out.

Standing by a large mat, talking to an instructor, was Terri. Her long, jet-black, hair was tied into a simple ponytail that exposed the serious and sober expression on her face. There was no hint of a smile about her and she looked somehow fragile and delicate. In fact Terri looked so different to how Katherine normally saw her that she almost didn’t recognise her.

“Feck, she looks nervous.” Fiona observed quietly.

“This is her last one, isn’t it?” asked Yolanda. “After this it’s the next level?”

“If she does well enough, aye.” Fiona confirmed. “If not she’ll have ta rethink the whole routine. Like, the whole thing. Not something I’d want ta have ta do.”

“No, that’s true. I know she’s been practising for ages. That would be really disheartening, even for her.”

“She’s looking for us. Quick, everybody look happy.” interrupted Claire.

Terri was now on her own, the man she’d been talking to having walked off. To Katherine’s mind, she looked scared. Like a little girl lost in the forest in some old fairytale, the wolves slowly circling her. Certainly not the feisty and enthusiastic 16 year old Katherine had come to know.

But then Terri saw the group waving, her face lit up with joy, and she was back to her normal self.

And then she grinned.

“Urgh, dammit. I knew I should have brought my sunglasses.”

“How does she do that? Ya could power the whole town with that face o’ hers, ya really could.”

“Ladies, please.” Yolanda admonished gently.

Katherine said nothing. She wasn’t immune to Terri’s legendary megawatt grin but, now she wasn’t worried so much about her friend’s happiness, she began to notice just what the other girl was wearing. And she felt her pulse start to increase.

Really, it was nothing out of the ordinary. All the other girls were wearing leotards as well. Katherine had owned one herself when she was young. It was a practical item of clothing for any activity that needed free movement of the arms and legs while keeping all the naughty bits hidden away from view.

But there was something about the one that Terri was wearing. It seemed almost like it was painted on. While the other leotards around the hall were clearly designed to draw attention away from what was underneath, clothing manufacturers not being stupid, Terri’s looked like it did the exact opposite. It accentuated her body and highlighted her curves.

Terri’s breasts, not being something Katherine had ever really thought about while at school, were clearly defined by the taut fabric. Katherine could see exactly how small they were and couldn’t help but picture how they’d vanish in her hands.

The material continued over Terri’s flat stomach, bulged over her public mound, and passed between her legs to cradle her small bottom. It was as though nothing was left to the imagination. Although Katherine couldn’t see what was beneath the leotard she had absolutely no difficulty imagining what Terri looked like beneath it.

To make matters worse, the garment was cut high on the hip. Terri was only four foot six, a mere one hundred and thirty-seven centimetres. Despite actually being one of the oldest in the group, she was positively tiny compared to the rest of the girls. But it seemed that most of that height was made up of pure leg. They seemed incredibly, unbearably, long and Katherine marvelled at how, thanks to the leotard, she could see every single square inch of them.

“Are you alright, Katherine?” Yolanda’s voice came as if from far away. Katherine forced herself to look away from the vision in front of her and turn to her neighbour.

“Yeah. Yeah, no I’m fine.” she managed.

“You look a little flushed. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, definitely. Nothing to worry about. Just a little hot, that’s all. It’s kinda warm in here.” Katherine replied, improvising madly, “Besides I’m a redhead. My people blush easily.”

She cursed herself. ‘My people’? ‘My people’? Did she really say that? And did she have to say that to Yolanda of all things?

Yolanda, for her part, simply raised an immaculately trimmed eyebrow and glanced back to where Terri was doing some warming up exercises.

“Rrrrrright...” she said, dragging the word out in an amused tone.

Katherine felt herself blush for real and turned back to face the hall, hoping to bring it back under control. As she did so, she looked back over to Terri and realised with a shock that her friend wasn’t wearing something scandalous. It was just a normal leotard, nothing more or less. The rush of sexually-charged fascination that had torn through Katherine’s mind had been entirely her own imagination. Yes, the garment was close-fitting but no more so than any other in the room.

What was wrong with her? One slight hint that somebody she knew might have tits and she was a mess. Get it together, Katherine! she screamed at herself.

And then the music started.

“Shaddup now,” hissed Fiona, “she’s on!”

Terri now stood, still as a statue, at the corner of the mat. Her arms were straight out at her sides as the sound of a stringed instrument filled the hall. No melody yet, just one long note rising slowly in pitch.

As the pitch grew higher, so too did Terri’s arms, rising higher and higher towards the roof of the hall. Just as her arms reached the top, her fingers pointing straight upwards, the note stopped. Then the bass and the tune kicked in. A fast, intense, track with a beat that got into the brain.

Then Terri moved.

Katherine felt her jaw drop. She had no idea what to expect. She knew that a floor routine involved some rhythmic movement to go along with all the actual gymnastic stuff ... but she never expected this.

Terri moved like a snake, dancing to the music in ways Katherine never would have thought possible. The girl was impossibly lithe. Every single step, every single movement, was perfect. She was graceful yet sensual and, through it all, incredibly agile. And she’d only just started.