08:10

♫

"There was this one time I kissed a boy, and I was so disgusted I threw up."

Nova laughed. "What?"

"I guess I was thirteen. Last two weeks of middle school. He was my boyfriend for like, two days?"

"A boyfriend at thirteen?"

I groaned. "You know how children were back then – if you didn't have a boyfriend you're either ugly or gay. I didn't want to be ugly and gay, so I—"

"You aren't ugly."

"That isn't the point." I cleared my throat. "So anyway, this boy, he approached me after class two days before that birthday party and gave me this cute flower, I think. He then asked me if I could be his girlfriend, and I guess it kind of made sense because his friends are my quote unquote friends' boyfriends, so I agreed."

I paused. I looked at Nova and hoped to God she was still interested, but she was looking at me intently, waiting for the next words I was going to say. I fixed my posture and looked away, or else I was going to melt under her gaze.

"S-So then we went to this birthday party, and after we all ate, we sat in a circle to play truth or dare." The next scenes were horrifying. "The bottle pointed at me and I said dare."

"And?"

"I was dared to kiss my boyfriend."

"And?"

"They were all looking at me, these excited, growing girls and boys in the height of their puberty. They have probably never seen an actual boy and girl kissing in front of them. The girls pretended to cover their eyes, but they were peeking through the gaps of their small fingers wrapped with loombands. The boys were cheering for my boyfriend, because to them, a girl was a prize. I was a prize," I said. "They were chanting, kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him! I looked at the boy and his lips were still glossy from the roasted chicken we've eaten half an hour ago. There was a stain of grape juice on his chin. When I leaned closer to him, his eyes were shut and his smile was huge. I couldn't believe I was going to kiss him."

"Shit. And then?"

"Then I . . ." I paused. "Then that's it. I shut my eyes tightly and touched his glossy, chicken smelling lips with mine, and I made sure our lips didn't touch for more than a second. When we kissed everyone in the room cheered, including the girls who were pretending not to look. First thought I had? Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting."

Nova looked like she didn't know whether to feel bad for me or to laugh.

"God, I was repulsed. I never would have imagined my first kiss would be in a circle, in a stranger's living room, all because I was desperate not to be seen as ugly and gay."

"You were never ug—"

"Then I immediately stood up and ran to the bathroom. Everyone thought I was just too shy and giddy that I had to run away, but what I was really feeling in my gut was not butterflies, but this giant feeling of nausea. They were crocodiles. I kept thinking of his oily lips, his dirty face, his shut eyes. Oh, god." I touched my tummy, like I had kissed him again. Could it be possible for a kiss so bad it could give you PTSD? "But we were children, and I willingly kissed him. Not for myself, but for everyone that was watching. For people I don't even care about now. So then I ran to the bathroom, and immediately washed my mouth on the sink."

"Sick!"

"It was like no amount of water would wash away the thought that I had kissed a boy. I was horrified that his lips would be permanently marked in mine. I rubbed my lips so harshly my mouth was red," I said. "I didn't know that he was following me, even inside the bathroom. He saw me desperately washing my mouth with tears running down my eyes. He was confused. Like, his eyebrows were so furrowed he looked stupid. Then he left."

"He left?"

"He looked hurt," I said.

"Oh, dang. He must have liked you then?"

I thought of the flower he gave me. "I don't know. But I never liked him. Not to an extent that I . . ." Not to an extent that I liked Nova. I shut my mouth.

"That you what?"

I ignored her and went on with my story. "The boy left the bathroom, and he began yelling something. I couldn't understand, but when I was ready to leave the sink, the girls weren't talking to me anymore. They wouldn't even let me sit in the circle again. I was confused and was still upset about the fact that I had kissed a boy, so I thought fuck you all and left."

"Woah!" Nova exclaimed. "Did you just say fuck?"

"Yes, Nova. Fuck!" I tried not to laugh. "That night was so weird."

"Yeah. I can see it. Almost like I'm there."

"You wouldn't wanna be there," I said. "And you know what? It doesn't end there. The following Monday, I went to school with the word dyke written on my desk," I said. I could still remember wondering what the hell that word was, until I went home and searched it up and felt this whooping sensation in my gut.

My faulty orange lamp flickered, so I reached over to my right bedside table and turned it off. Now the only light was coming from my other bedside table, which was beside Nova. She was still looking at me.

"Did you feel offended?"

"Sure," I said. "I was a growing child. They wrote that because they meant to hurt me, and I was. Their intention of hurting me was more hurtful than the word they'd written."

I drew in a deep breath. I remember sitting in my room after a bad day at school and writing about being perplexed about my sexuality, and how washing my mouth after kissing a disgusting boy didn't mean I was that word, it only meant I was taking care of my hygiene. I can't say I was in denial with myself; I can only say I was still confused. Many girls figure out their sexuality early on, but sadly I wasn't one of them. I was the misfit, the puzzled, the lost, the one that had no idea what it meant to be attracted to someone, and to whom.

"I felt wrong, like something in me was misplaced," I said. "The bullying in those last two weeks was horrible. They'd lock me in a room full of photos with naked women, they'd grab my hand and put it in a girls' chest and accuse me of having a boner, they would call me names behind my back, girls would look at me and accuse me of being attracted to them."

"I thought my middle school was bad."

"Mine was hell," I said. "At least those last two weeks were. But you know the worst part?"

She scoffed. "There's something worse?"

"Day by day, I felt even more and more of what that word meant," I said. "I felt like I thought and felt like a lesbian, and the more I realized that the more I thought I had to change."

"What do you mean, change?" she asked. "How?"

"Well, first and foremost, I transferred schools," I said with a smile. I remember the first time I met Nova; when she burned my dress. "Then I joined the cheerleader team because – well, I thought I would be less suspicious."

"Not to look at other girls dressing up?"

My face burned. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"Sorry! It was just a joke." But she was still laughing. I turned around and shut off the orange lamp. Now it was dark. I didn't want to look at her when I felt so embarrassed.

"You didn't have to do all that," she said. "You can just be yourself."

"That's the funny thing," I said and then sighed. Nova didn't seem to mind that the lights were closed. "I came to love cheerleading. I love dancing, exercising with the girls, running, stretching, jumping, drinking very cold water after a tiring practice session. I found myself in a place where I was only supposed to be hiding. So, this is me."

"You weren't yourself when you were talking to Kent this morning," she said. "You were someone you crafted to be liked. You know it's fine to turn him down, don't you?"

"I did turn him down! He is just so insistent. But still, it's just . . . scary, you know? I love everything I have right now. I love my cheerleading team and my girl friends. If they found out who I really am inside, what if they turn away from me, too? They won't write an insult all over my desk, and they won't terrorize me with cut outs of naked women, but they won't look at me the same way again. And I think that might be worse."

"Hey. Of course it is fine if you're still not ready to be out of the closet." She gently tapped my cheek. "I just don't want you to . . . I mean, it's not very cool to see . . . I mean, it hurts when – well, I hate seeing you do things that aren't you."

I couldn't help but smile. "What do you mean?"

"Living for others," she said. "Kissing a boy for other people. Pretending to be friendly with a dingus in the locker area for other people. Joining the cheerleader initially for other people. It kind of sucks to see, no?"

I lowered my head. "I think so."

"So, then, be Cora Flair," she said. "Be the lesbian you are for you."

I laughed. "That's the nicest way someone has called me that."

"I understand, you know?" she said. "Although . . . well, I didn't really struggle much with my identity. You see, I grew up with gay moms. They were very open and accepting of me and the potential of who I can become. They taught me cool stuff about sexuality too, so it was bearable. Growing up like this."

I think my eyes shone. "Wow . . . I never knew that."

"Yeah. They're pretty cool," she said with a shy smile, although in my dark bedroom it was difficult to see. "I want them to meet you, Cora. I think they'd love you."

"You think?" Meeting my crush's parents? I could die. "I'm just one silly cheerleader."

"And a pretty one at that."

"Shut up."

"Sorry," she suddenly said. "For everything you've experienced. Middle schoolers could be spawns of Satan, huh?"

A chuckle left my lips, a bit louder than I meant to. "Spawns of Satan is going quite far," I said. "But yeah. They could be evil."

She was quiet for a while until she decided to lay her head back on my pillow. Without thinking much, I did the same. For a moment there was just the soft sound of our clothes rubbing against my bed sheets, the low breeze from outside, and the crickets, and our breathing.

I thought and thought of anything I could say. What was she feeling at that moment? What did she think of me? How has her week been? There was a swell in my heart filled with questions because I wanted to know a lot about her. In my dark bedroom, on top of my bed, beside me, what was going on in her mind?

During the loops, this was the most peaceful I've been with Nova, and yet, I was still afraid that when I close my eyes, she wouldn't be there anymore when I open them.

♫