Lilly Hammett found that gym class sounded a lot like music.
As the 16-year-old cheetah sat on the tilted bench at the side of the gym court and observed her classmates playing basketball, her ears reported the sounds being made:
The sharp squeaking of trainers on polished wood could have passed as some kind of background keyboards; the thrum of many pairs of feet on the floor was perhaps a set of bass drums, working overtime in a death metal song: the bouncing of the basketball in play was a slamming floor tom in action, and the voices of the girls shouting suggested orders and requesting the ball made for a drunk-sounding chorus of backup singing.
It was an utter cacophony, if the cheetah girl was honest, but it was brightened immeasurably by whom she considered to be the lead singer:
“Come on, bloody get stuck in there!”
Next to Lilly sat the source of this noise – and the tilt in the bench, for that matter.
It was Amanda Hamilton, the high school’s resident foul-mouthed, terrifyingly strong vixen, arms folded and glaring at the action on the court.
Lilly smiled – she was fortunate enough to be a friend of this enormous, mouthy terror.
“Fuck sake – that fud’s as useful as Captain Hook’s other glove!”
While it either riled up or outright intimidated most of the student body – and indeed a few of the teachers – the cheetah had quiet appreciation for her friend’s outspoken and curse-laden nature.
She respected the honesty of the incendiary vixen – there was very little chance of falsehood coming from between her lips.
Her steadfastness was also an admirable quality – ready to defend anything she loved and believed in.
Lilly herself had been a recipient of this – when their History teacher Mrs Johnson had had a go at her for misremembering the date of the Battle of Britain, Amanda had told her to go and put more hemorrhoid cream on.
Though they had both ended up in detention, Lilly had been touched by this defence of her person!
Shweeeeeep!
The teacher’s shrill whistle cut the air, signifying the end of the game.
It was their turn, now.
“Right!” Amanda said robustly, standing up to her impressive height of 6 feet and looking around at the rest of her team. “Let’s get right in aboot them, like a fish oot the chips!”
While none of them really understood this odd turn of phrase, the others didn’t dare disagree with her words, standing up after her.
As Amanda strode onto the wooden court, Lilly’s eyes were firmly glued to the vixen’s thick, wobbling buttocks – the one place that all the fat in her body had migrated to.
Not for the first time, Lilly was thankful that she was on Amanda’s side.
