"Hey, I<i>like</i>Gretchen. She and I have a lot in common...!" Amelia feigned a pout. Gretchen Myers was not really a friend as such, more a friendly rival. The two got on reasonably well, so long as they stayed out of each others' territories. Gretchen was another rich bitch, and they had recognised each other as kindred spirits from the word go. The rivalry was mostly friendly. Gretchen was clearly the more popular of the two, but people flocked to the newcomer's banner because - well, she had a real life banner! Gretchen<i>had</i>said some rather spiteful things about the English aristocracy, but Amy had pointed out that she was a Scot, and Gretchen was absolutely correct about the English. She had then gone on to say some nasty things about the US Congress, to which Gretchen had replied that Congress was mostly Democrats, and she was a Republican, and Amy was absolutely right...<br/><br/>To say she liked the other girl was pushing it a bit, she certainly respected her, and managed an easy camaraderie with her. And she felt a certain sense of duty to defend the girl against a disparaging comment. "Having money doesn't make you a bad person. And I wasn't bragging, merely pointing out a pertinent fact! My family could buy his and still have plenty of change left over! I'm just saying, he doesn't frighten me."<br/><br/>Then MJ changed the subject. It was clearly something she wasn't comfortable with, and although Amy really wanted to ask what it was all about and why he had been threatening MJ, she let it drop.<br/><br/>"Karl? Pheh! He can try, but seriously, that bastard better not touch me again, or I'll break his fingers.... Uh... MJ? You know I'm<i>not</i>gay, right? I mean... Look, er..." There was an arm wrapped around her as they walked out of the restaurant, and a kiss planted on her cheek. Amy tried to pull away but the grip on her waist was tight. "Um... I... I like you, yes, but..."<br/><br/>Confusion swirled in Amy's mind. She had heard the rumours of MJ's sexuality, the fact that she swung both ways, the fact that she had treated one partner almost abusively. Amy treated them as what they were, malicious rumours. She respected MJ's life choices, respected her "don't give a fig" attitude, her independence. Part of her wished that she could<i>be </i>MJ. Or at least share her lifestyle. But ...<i>Girlfriend? Gay?</i><br/><br/>Case in point, though...As they walked across the lot from the diner to the truck, Denise Farrel appeared, with two of her friends. The girl spotted Amy and grinned, waved madly, and raced over, her friends looked at each other and followed at a more sedate pace.<br/><br/>"Your Ladyship!" Denise gave a slight curtsey. Amy rolled her eyes. Farrel was a total sycophant, an Anglophile (and possibly Caledophile, if such a thing existed) and one of Amy's 'loyal followers'.<br/><br/>"Damn it, Denise, how many times have I told you not to call me that, call me Amy, like everyone else!"<br/><br/>"Yes Your Ladyship... Er... Amy!"<br/><br/>Amy resisted the urge to smirk, because it wasn't funny, but it reminded her of Marcie calling Peppermint Patty "Sir" all the time. But worse, she was all too aware that MJ still had an arm around her, and was holding her posessively.  "Did you want something Denise?"<br/><br/>Denise blushed. If the girl didn't have a boyfriend, she'd been steady with for three years, Amy would swear Denise had a crush on her! "Uh... Noooo... No, I just... I heard you and Karl had a fight and... I wanted to see if you were okay?"<br/><br/>"Hmmph. News travels fast," Amy muttered, then said, "I'm fine, thanks. I'm going to crash over at MJ's place until I can get somewhere else sorted. But I'm fine."<br/><br/>She smiled and nodded, then used her best finger-hold to peal MJ's hand off her hip as the walked back to the<s>rust bucket</s>truck.