Ophelia After All

I curl around the realization that I’ve now come out to my dad, mom, and two best friends, all in one day. I know I’ve got a lifetime of these moments to go, but somehow, crushed between Agatha and Sammie, I’m not as scared as I was, even just yesterday. Because if I could make it through these ones, I can make it through them all.

I wipe my nose as Agatha’s phone goes off. She checks her screen and rolls her eyes, groaning.

“Georgie, again?” Sammie asks. Ags nods. I guess she let that cat out of the bag.

“You know, I still don’t get why you said no to him,” Sammie says. “I mean, I know you were playing the long game in the hopes of snagging me as a date, but the odds weren’t exactly in your favor for a while.”

“I will hurt you,” Agatha says, clawing her hand. Her aggression melts into a faraway look as she rests her screen against her knee, Georgie’s dozens of unanswered texts lighting up her skin.

“You good?” I ask.

“Need me to beat him up for you?” Sammie offers.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you already shared…”

“Are you finally going to tell us your middle name?” Sammie springs up.

“No, Samuel, I most certainly am not.”

“Come on! We’re going to hear it at graduation. You can’t pay off the announcer like you did in middle school. They’re having teachers call out the names.”

“Then you can wait a few more weeks.”

“Ignore him,” I say, stealing her line from earlier. I face Agatha with my whole body, a hard feat given how packed we are on the steps. “Go on.”

“Well,” she says, and for the first time in forever, Agatha Jones looks less than confident in what she’s about to say. “I’m not sure how to put it, but here goes. I don’t really like people.”

Sammie drops back down. “Relatable.”

“Sammie, shut up,” I scold.

“Sorry.” He winces, then pokes Agatha’s knee. “What do you mean?”

“It’s like … I don’t like like people. As in, romantically. I’ve been attracted to people, mostly guys, but I’ve seen a girl or two who … well, whatever. Point is, I don’t want to date any of them. I used to think maybe I just didn’t like boys and was a lesbian, but I don’t feel anything romantic for girls either. I just don’t like anyone that way.” She shifts uncomfortably on the porch, picking at the black sequins decorating her skirt. “I wasn’t going to say anything to y’all because I didn’t know if that was even a thing. Especially with how much y’all do like people romantically.”

I think of Wesley earlier, his quick recitation of labels and terms I’m still new to. I’m no expert, but it brings me joy to get to tell Agatha she might want to search up the word aromantic later tonight.

“I had a sexy dream about Zaq last week,” Sammie says out of absolutely nowhere after Agatha finishes typing the note to herself.

“What?” Ags and I say at the same time, not even taking a moment to appreciate our synchronization.

“He’s a good-looking guy!” Sammie defends, raising his hands. “What? You can kiss Talia, but I can’t accidentally consider the possibilities with Zaq? What kind of double standards…”

“Sammie,” I start, joy cracking my lips into a growing smile. “Are you not straight?”

“Whoa, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says, then shrugs. “I’ll look into it and report back.”

“Did you two … did you two just hijack my coming out? Both of you?” I look back and forth between the two of them, my mouth gaping and smiling at the same time.

“Not our fault you opened up the dialogue,” Sammie says, picking a scab on his knuckle. “Heh, I might actually have a decent time with the whole therapy thing.”

“We didn’t hijack it; we’re meeting you halfway,” Ags says, then adds, “You’re not the only one still figuring it all out, babe. We’re at the start of our lives, not the end.”

“I love you guys,” I say, and collapse back into their arms.





TWENTY-FOUR


Turns out Lindsay caught a cold that’s been going around and, according to Zaq, so has Talia, hence both their absences over the past few days, including today. It’s for the best, considering my unresolved drama with both of them. But weirdly, I’m not as scared as I should be for the fate of our friend group.

Especially because I have something far scarier to do.

Agatha leaves me at our lockers in the morning, noticing Lucas before I do. As expected, he doesn’t acknowledge me until I chase after him, tugging on his arm in a way that once would’ve sparked nerves in my stomach. Now I’m nervous for an entirely different reason.

“Oh hey.” He looks over his shoulder at his friends, other boys from the soccer team, and nods them onward before turning back to me. I feel them watching us, even hear trickles of their teasing, but I have to shut it out or I’ll freeze up.

“I can’t go to prom with you,” I say, ripping off the bandage. I expect anger, maybe even a little concealed hurt, but Lucas just chuckles and pats me on the shoulder twice, harder than he probably means to.

But then I watch the realization hit him. “Wait, are you serious?”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, and mean it. He may be shallower than the roots of my roses, but he doesn’t deserve the whirlwind I’ve put him through regarding prom. If I were another girl, at another point in my life, I’d probably still go with him. We’d laugh and dance, maybe even kiss a bit if the lighting was right and the music swelled at the perfect moment, just like in my fantasies. Maybe, if I were really different, none of it would mean anything at all.

But I’m not that girl, I’m me. And prom still means something to me, enough that I’m not willing to throw it away on him. He was my first boyfriend, my first kiss, my first real heartbreak, but I can’t let Lucas be the prom date I remember for the rest of my life. Maybe it’s melodramatic to think so, but I’ve reclaimed my clichés, and I’m not letting them go for anyone.

“You’re kidding me,” he exhales, laughing again, not with me and not quite at me, but almost through me. “First you say no, then you ask me, and now you’re backing out again? What happened to the girl who acted like life was some chick flick?”

“I just think I’d have more fun going with my friends.”

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, roughing up his hair. Distantly, I try to find the girl who would’ve killed for this.

He’s so pretty. And he wants me. And Talia doesn’t. And now I know I’m being melodramatic, but maybe no one else ever will. Even if I can love any gender, if that’s who I really am, there’s still a chance I’ll never find someone who makes me feel as special as Talia did the night we stole her brooch back.

Honestly, when Talia told me about Zaq, it wasn’t just about the girl who made me realize I wasn’t straight being unavailable. It was feeling like I’d kidded myself into thinking I had a chance. Into thinking that someone met me and saw something worth loving, for once.

I deserve, one day, to find that again. And to know, no matter their gender, that I’m not settling. Even if that means being alone and unsure for longer than I thought I’d be.

I know I’m being unfair to Lucas, but I also know that this is such a shock to him because I’ve always been predictable. I am a romantic. But I don’t feel hopeless anymore.

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