Chapter 1
“I’m pansexual.”
I stopped dead in my tracks causing the people behind me to pummel into my back. Jenny skidded to a stop as well, looking completely annoyed. The people that were behind me just sighed and snaked around us to get to the cafeteria.
“Why are we stopping, Mel?” My friend, Jenny, asked, tapping her foot impatiently. She never liked to be late to lunch because there was limited seating, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around what she was telling me.
“What did you just say? What is…plantsexual?”
“No, Mel, pansexual,” She corrected, throwing her arms in the air, she had a flair for drama, “Do you think I like plants? God, you’re an idiot sometimes.”
I just shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t take anything she said in her crazed state to heart. She knew that I was clueless about most everything. Jenny started to tap her foot impatiently, so I began to walk again. As we made our way to the line, I heard Jenny whine and sigh. She always did this when I was not paying attention to her. She was like a little puppy; she always needed to be the center of attention.
“Okay, tell me, what is it?” I said.
“You live under a rock, don’t you?”
“Jenny.” I rolled my eyes. She always found a way to tell me how uncultured I was. Yet again, I tried not to take it personally. She had a way of getting under my skin, but I loved her and her chaotic energy.
“Pansexual,” She spit out each syllable, “means that you love anyone, no matter their gender.”
“Ah.”
As she said this, I glanced above some lockers to find that there was a new poster about the school’s Snowball dance. I could feel Jenny’s eyes burn into the side of my head, but I didn’t know how to respond to her statement, so I avoided her eyes. Maybe she would want to go to the Snowball with me. I mean, she didn’t really talk to many other boys, but also if she just told me that she was pansexual maybe that was her way of saying we would never go to a dance together. I was almost scared to ask. She never really enjoyed school events, but maybe this time would be different.
“Hey Jenny, wanna go to snowball together?”
“Idiot, you know that I hate social gatherings like that. They are so useless and just make people feel uncomfortable. It is a perfect bullying ground for all the asshole jocks, and there is just so much drama that I don’t want to get into. I would never go somewhere with so many emotional and hormonal people, ever!”
“Oh… yeah…right.”
I quickly moved my attention away from the Snowball poster and focused on another more colorful poster. It talked about how “everyone is welcome” at the school. Below those words in bold rainbow font read, “this is a safe place”. I tried to figure out what that meant, but the lunch line began to move, and I couldn’t avoid Jenny’s eyes forever.
“Mel, are we still friends? Are you chill with what I just told you?” She was staring at me with a sprinkle of concern laced throughout her eyes.
“Jenny…” I stopped and stared straight into her eyes. “You will be my best friend forever, no matter what.”
She nodded and gave me a big toothy grin. Her pigtails swayed as she walked forward. Jenny was a beautiful girl and I hoped to god that no one would ever hurt her. And even though we had only been friends for about two months, I loved her like she was my sister. It was amazing that we became friends so fast.
I did, in fact, have a best friend before her. His name was Evan, but our friendship apparently wasn’t meant to last. After only a year, he completely changed, and began to hang out with other people. Sometimes I would see him, but he always looked so different. He even wore eyeliner and a trench-coat which I never understood, but I would always pray for him at that moment that he would stray away from that group and come back to me. The group were labeled emo. I didn’t know if that was the actual term, but I knew that they were hurting him. Sometimes I would see him crying, and I couldn’t do anything about it; I didn’t know how.
Jenny and I became best friends soon after, and it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. She helped me through so many difficult situations. The worst: me dating.
My first girlfriend’s name was Mary. She was a sweet and polite girl with long auburn hair and bright blue eyes. She radiated positive energy and helped me cheer up when I was in a depressed state. We became friends instantly. In math class, where we met, we would pass each other notes and giggle until the teacher threatened to send us to the principal. I was constantly smiling and didn’t know why. Jenny was slightly concerned.
“I have never seen you this happy, what’s up?”
“Well Mary wrote this really funny joke today in math and I can’t stop thinking about it,” I said trying to contain my snorty laughter.
“Oh my god! You like Mary!” Jenny said a little too loud. We were in the cafeteria, and it was a good thing that everyone was screaming, or else I could have been outed just then.
“Shut up, no I do not!”
“Mel and Mary sitting in a tree, K,I…”
“NO! Never!” I stood up so suddenly that I almost knocked my tray over.
“Don’t leave.”
“I don’t like her!” I yelled, walking over to the garbage.
Jenny just groaned and followed me out.
Mary had a boyfriend anyway. I would never do anything to upset him especially since he was known to have anger issues. His name was Yaro. He was a seven-foot foreign exchange student from Spain. I had never seen a person so tall; he towered over all of us. He was a beast. No one dared to mess with him especially after the incident when he ripped a pig’s head from its body during biology class.
One day I gave Mary my number. Very innocent, friend stuff. That’s what I wanted to believe. Mary and I began to text. When I was in high school, asterisks were all the rage. We used asterisks to pretend that we were with each other in person when we weren’t. For example, *hugs*. That meant that you were giving the person you were texting virtual hugs. Mary and I did not use asterisks right away, but when we did start doing it, we couldn’t stop. It was addicting. And it quickly got a little too personal. We wrestled each other and held hands. Our conversations lasted for hours. I was elated. Mary was amazing. I could barely think straight when I saw that she had sent me a text.
With joy though, there is always crippling sadness. I learned that way too quickly. My phone buzzed on a normal Tuesday night while I was chilling on my bed. I thought it was Mary and I quickly flipped open the top to see. Something else entirely was waiting for me.
Don’t you dare lay a finger on my girlfriend ever again!
It was Mary’s number. Like a fish out of water, my fingers shook as I replied. I could feel my heart rise up into my throat.
Yaro didn’t let up. He threatened me for hours until I came crashing down. I bawled for what seemed like eternity until there were no more tears left. Yaro won. I tried to tell him that Mary and I were only friends, but I didn’t even believe that myself anymore. Why did I do this to myself?
I opened my phone back up and saw even more messages from Yaro, but I ignored them, and went straight to my favorites to find Jenny’s number. I was about to press her name when something stopped me: the name that had been haunting me. Evan. I opened our chat and realized that I had deleted it. It was a sad, blank screen. I glanced at my keyboard and began to type.
My fingers moved tirelessly until I had typed a long paragraph text.
Evan. I wish you were here. I miss you so much. You were my best friend. I need you. I have so much that I need to tell you. What should I do about Mary? God, you don’t even know who Mary is. Please read this. Please come back to me. I need you. Do you ever notice me in the hallway? I notice you. You look so different, so weathered. Text me back. Talk to me.
My thumb was frozen over the send button. After what seemed like eternity, I deleted the message, and texted Jenny instead. She told me that I should just stop being friends with Mary, and I took her advice. I ignored Mary.
It worked for a little while, but Mary was more persistent than me. She texted me late one night.
I broke up with Yaro. Let’s date.
I hesitated, but after her tenth message, I gave in. Mary would be my girlfriend. I finally had a girlfriend.
I was walking beside Mary to class one day and out of the corner of my eye I noticed her long, lean fingers reaching for my hand. This is what I had dreamed about, dating a cute girl who seemed into me, but something happened in my mind. I moved my hand instinctively behind my back. Mary’s hand wavered for a few seconds and then flew back down to her side. I looked in the other direction so that I didn’t have to see her disappointment. Why did I do that? I liked this girl. She was funny and my type. Why would I do that to her?
This freaked me out for weeks. I avoided Mary everywhere I went and ignored her text messages. I couldn’t wrap my head around my own feelings. Why didn’t I want to do things with Mary? Holding hands was the least scary interaction that we could do. Why did I reject her? I got so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I began to resent Mary for it. She made me crazy. She must have been the actual problem. It wasn’t me; it was her.
Jenny and I were in algebra when I asked her what I should do about Mary.
“I have been miserable. I wanted to break up with on week two. It’s been six weeks. I just don’t want to break her heart, but god, I really don’t like her. She’s driving me nuts.”
“Sometimes you just gotta break someone’s heart.”
Jenny the Wise, everyone.
So, like the anti-social person that I was, I picked up my phone and began to type my break-up message.
Mary, I can’t do this anymore. Friends?
Her response saved me from months of shattering depression that I would’ve had if she would have typed something else.
Yeah, sure.
I got over her in less than a week and became infatuated with someone else. Her name was Jaime. She was a beautiful Latina girl with Rapunzel long hair. She was, at that moment, the most beautiful being I had ever seen. Her milky brown eyes made me want to crumble into a million pieces. She was also a witty girl who always got what she wanted. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was actually a terrible manipulator, and had me wrapped around her finger.
We exchanged numbers and immediately used asterisks. But something weird would happen at school. Jaime would ignore me. She would not even acknowledge my existence when I said hello to her. At night though she would text me very seductive messages. I fell hard for her charm, and she became my first kiss (virtually). I thought she was the most brilliant creature on the planet. My every waking thought was about her luscious lips and silky hair.
One day I got up the courage and confessed my feelings towards her. I didn’t even care that she had ignored me the previous day, and that was my fatal mistake.
“Jaime, you’re awesome and I really like you, and… Can we be something more than friends?”
Jaime smiled, but I could see a hint of sadness in her eyes. My high immediately evaporated. I reached out to comfort her, but she sidestepped me and put up her hand to stop me.
“Mel, I’m bi.”
I cocked my head to the side and couldn’t even think of a response. Jaime just patted my shoulder and walked away. Her sentence rang throughout my mind. Mel, I’m bi. Mel, I’m bi. Mel, I’m bi. I suffered until lunchtime. My head was burning with Jaime’s words. Jenny could tell something was wrong the moment she sat across from me at the lunch table.
“Mel, what’s wrong?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to look into another girl’s eyes even if it was my best friend Jenny. I could still picture Jaime’s sad eyes. Something inside of me snapped.
Was Jaime ever into me? Did I actually see genuine sadness in her eyes, or was it all fake? Tears burned my eyes. Jenny shook my arm trying to get my attention.
“Mel, tell me.”
“What does bi mean?”
Jenny just sat back, looking surprised that I would ask something like that. I just waited for her response. The tears were coming.
“God, she’s sick. She knew you didn’t know that word. Jesus, she’s smart.”
“Stop fantasizing about her and tell me what it means!”
“Bisexual means you love both guys and girls. I’m sorry, Mel. That could mean she could still like you, but she just wanted to get you out of her hair, that jerk.”
It took awhile for that to sink in, and as soon as it did, I stood up and stormed off toward the bathroom. I didn’t even care if I damaged the door. I slammed the bathroom door open; I just needed to get out of there. I just couldn’t stay out there with the rest of my peers. My eyes were beet red and I tried to rub them, but that only made them worse. I screamed and cursed. I couldn’t believe Jaime. How could she lead me on like that? I gripped the sink to steady myself and splashed water on my face. As I opened my eyes, something immediately caught my attention.
Standing in the corner of the bathroom wearing the ugliest tan trench coat and thickest eyeliner, even thicker than what the “My Chemical Romance” band would wear, was Evan. He opened his mouth as soon as we made eye contact, but before he could say anything, I was out the door.
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