Chapter One (Della Valora)

Chapter One (Della Valora)

A Chapter by beatrice

Della's Point of View


Chapter One 

The moment I realized I was a lesbian was in sixth grade.

I mean, of course there’d been prior signs that I didn’t like boys, considering I would constantly select a fairly feminine boy in my class and force myself to believe that I liked him, just so I could join in on school girl gossip, sharing stories about boys I liked with other middle school girls. I didn’t think much of it, assuming that I’d like someone for real eventually. Until, one day, I went to the park with one of my friends, a little (are you still little when you’re eleven?) girl named Wenona. We were moderately close, but I’d always felt drawn to her in a different way than I had my other friends. She was taller than me by maybe an inch or two, and she had a straight, honey-colored bob haircut that was often messy. She wore tee-shirts and cargo pants every day, clearly making an “I’m a tomboy” fashion statement. She had a somewhat charming gap in her front teeth that made her talk a little funny, and she’d told her mom firmly that she would not be getting braces to fix the situation. She had a nasally voice and grey-ish blue eyes and freckles that dotted her nose and forehead and cheeks. She was kind of loud and goofy, often known as “the funny one,” and I’d never heard her mention a guy she liked.

After school on a hot day in mid-June, we were swinging together on the molten, leg-searing swings at the park across the street from our school waiting for our parents to pick us up. Gradually, Wenona’s swing slowed; she wasn’t pumping her legs anymore. I followed her lead and looked over, ready to say goodbye or something, thinking her parents had arrived. She looked me square in the eyes, and my stomach churned for reasons I could not place. She asked me who I liked in a hushed, very non-Wenona way. The question made my face hot, and I swear I almost vomited. Somehow, I couldn’t push out my usual practiced lie of a boy I hardly knew. Her stare intensified, and I shook my head, forcing a laugh. 

“No one right now, I guess,” I said, the pit in my stomach burning still, worsening the nausea. “Who do you like?”

She kept her eyes on me, unblinking. “You.” 

“What?” I asked, feeling an odd tingling of a smile behind my lips, like I might’ve laughed or something. I suppressed it, remembering all of the times my dad had told me and my sisters that being gay was a sin. The guilt and panic began setting in. 

“I like you,” she said again, just as firm as before. 

I swallowed and looked at her. I dropped my hand from the dirty metal chain that held my swing to the rusting blue swing set. 

“Okay,” was all I could manage, and I reached out and grabbed her hand.
We sat there for what felt like an eternity, hardly talking, sweaty hands that smelled like the type of jewelry that turns your skin green clasped tightly together, although we did not acknowledge this action. 

At some point, her mom got there, and we heard an unmistakable three honks from her Kia Soul, somewhat muted by the distance. Wenona dropped my hand, face going red. “Uh, gottagobye,” she said in a shaky, rushed voice before nervously run-walking to her mom’s car and getting into the backseat. 

We never spoke of that day again, despite seeing each other every day until she moved to some city in the middle of nowhere because of her dad’s job at the end of eighth grade. 

I kind-of-sort-of dated a girl my freshman year of high school that, again, no one else knew about. Her name was Valerie. She wore black lipstick and never smiled. She wore huge platform boots and spiky jewelry and black clothing that was always, always ripped. Her voice, however, was soft and sweet, and she was really quite optimistic. Her hair typically fell in one or two long, dark braids, as her Indian parents forbade her to wear her hair down; according to them, it signified a “loose woman.” She was fascinated by witchcraft, and she told me she was pansexual one night as we worked on a school project for our anatomy class alone in her room. She mentioned this nonchalantly, but I could tell it was a big deal for her, and I hugged her, which was strange because I didn’t know her at all, and told her I was a lesbian.

She was my first kiss, and she was also every other kiss I’d had after that, but the relationship only lasted from October to July, and she broke up with me when her parents caught us making out in her bed- both of us topless, might I add- and shipped her off to an all girls boarding school for the “reformation of sexually disturbed girls.” Good luck getting rid of your daughter’s lesbianism at a school full of troubled lesbians. They threatened to call my parents too, but Valerie didn’t give up my name. 

Anyway, we went to a movie together one night in October.  It had become a hobby of ours to go see romantic comedies highlighting straight couples and moan and groan about how cheesy and heteronormative they all were. We may have just been jealous of the way those straight couples, depicted so brave and in love in movies, could just go out, could hold hands and proclaim their love and go on dates while Valerie and I had to meet in dark movie theatres where we were mostly unseen by the rest of the world. 

Halfway through this one particularly eye-roll worthy movie that I hardly remember, Valerie leaned over, I turned to hear what she had to say, and I was met with her full lips against mine. The kiss was sloppy and inexperienced but passionate and urgent. She tasted like overpriced Dr. Pepper and stale, buttery movie theatre popcorn. I’m sure I did too. I had no idea what I was doing, but I continued to do it all the same, our lips becoming wet with our shared saliva. Somehow, it still wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. 

Someone two rows behind us, an older woman in her fifties probably, gasped and muttered something to the man sitting next to her that we both ignored. She then leaned forward and harshly whispered across the seats, “Ladies, stop that. You’re being inappropriate and ruining the movie for all of us; you both should really stop that or leave. I won’t tolerate that here.”

What a b***h. Valerie looked at her and then back at me. “Is that so?”

The uptight woman then had the audacity to say, “Yes,” which prompted Valerie to grab me again and kiss me, this time, letting her tongue slip into my mouth until the woman got up and left. 

She pulled back and smiled sheepishly at me. I felt embarrassed and empowered all at once, shocked she’d had the nerve to respond this way. I grabbed her hand; it was soft and manicured, with black and shimmery nails. I locked my fingers with hers. 

A woman of twenty-something in one of the movie theatre vests walked in, flashlight shining in front of her. It seemed like she was walking toward us. I confirmed this theory when I saw the middle-aged-hater-of-young-love trailing behind her, face smug and judging. I inhaled and prepared for the worst.
“Dear Lord,” Valerie mumbled. 

The girl in the uniform came up to us, a little timid-looking while the old b***h sat down in her previous seat. Flicking off her flashlight and kneeling beside us, I could see that the worker’s badge over her right breast identified herself as Natalie. 

“I won’t lie to you guys, I really don’t wanna kick you out,” she whispered to us, voice suggesting that the woman behind us had scared her pretty bad. “She reported to me that she felt uncomfortable with your guys’ presence, and I’m required to check it out and respond. Clearly, she had some issues with you guys that don’t apply to our policy.” She eyed our hands clasped together. “I can’t ask you to leave, but this exact movie is playing down the hall right now, and I’ll gladly take you there, if you guys want.”

Valerie laughed. “Thank you. Honestly though, I think we’ve seen all we need to of this movie.”

She winked at me and stood with our popcorn bucket. I grabbed our drink, and holding hands, we exited the theatre behind Natalie. 

Outside of the theatre, Natalie handed us two free passes for another movie and smiled, “Have a nice night, you two.”

“Oh, we will,” Valerie sighed, looking at me again. 

“Uh, thank you,” I said to Natalie, blushing. 

We walked back to her house, hand in hand, laughing hysterically as we imitated the woman behind us who we’d named Kathy. When we arrived at her front door, she let go of my hand.
“My parents should be asleep, but they don’t know about my sexuality, okay? So I can’t-”

“It’s okay,” I assured her before she could feel embarrassed of her homophobic family. “I totally get it. Don’t worry.” 

She nodded and opened the door. Her parents were, in fact, asleep, and I followed her to her room. She closed her door, and immediately, we were kissing again. We fell back on her bed, and she smiled at me as she hovered over me. She stripped off her shirt and pulled out her braid, parents’ wishes be damned. Her silky, thick hair fell around us, like curtains drawn to cover so many acts of sin all at once, and she kissed me again, pulling my shirt off when she came up for air again. We made out until nearly one in the morning when I realized I should be getting home as my parents expected me to attend a movie and be home soon after. 

It was a short walk; I lived around the corner. Facing my parents after that seemed wrong and dirty, but I continued to see Valerie practically everyday, constantly avoiding questions from close friends (more like my one best friend, but still). I was in a state of guilt-ridden bliss until she was shipped away. 

I was heart-broken and depressed for months after that, my best friend, Wesley, becoming seriously concerned for me as I continually refused to tell him what had happened. After a while of not seeing her everyday, I realized that I hadn’t actually been in love with Valerie, just the mere idea of her and what we had in common. Both of us clung to that commonality and, in turn, we clung to our relationship that mostly consisted of ranting about our parents and making out. I’d never gotten butterflies around her, and I didn’t actually miss her in a romantic way. I missed the making out and the constant touching and the long talks about our fears of coming out and how our parents would handle it. Of course she was my friend, and I missed her, but my heart never ached for her to come back to me. 

Her importance in my heart could never falter though; she helped me realize who I was; her boldness and sureness of herself taught me to stop giving so many f***s for no reason. But she also taught me that it can be dangerous to be yourself around the wrong people, lest you be sent away by your homophobic parents. 

I tend to think with my heart, and I thought that if I never let myself fall for anyone again, I would never run into another heartbreak situation. All of life’s problems would be solved if I could simply shut off my heart to another girl. I wasn’t an idiot, and I realized I couldn’t control having feelings for someone, but I could focus so heavily on other things that relationships and love were not even on my radar. 

After swearing myself off of falling “in like” with another girl, I focused hard on schoolwork, getting a job, and any other passion I could use to distract myself.. 

My dream job was to be a screenwriter. It sounded so appealing to me; I loved writing and movies. My high school job I obtained shortly after Valerie’s departure was a movie theatre attendant at Seattle’s very own A-B Cinemas; I served popcorn, ripped tickets, mopped up sticky soda, and said that’ll be x-amount before the customers inevitably sighed and made a joke about how overpriced movie theatres are. And I knew they were, everybody knows that, but I loved my job anyway.  I saw free movies almost every night, and I took candy from the large stacks on the counters that I wasn’t supposed to. It was where I had my first kiss, and it was where I met Natalie. She still worked there, and she was the only one who knew about my romantic preferences. We became decent friends, over the years I worked there, and we told each other secrets, but we never hung out outside of work. 

At the end of summer before junior year, a girl moved into town with fiery hair, model dimples, and an infectious laugh. I was done for. I fell head over heels almost immediately, and for weeks, Natalie teased me about my promise I’d made to myself almost two years before. 

This girl worked down the street from me in a small, artsy coffee shop called Loni’s. My favorite small, artsy coffee shop called Loni’s. She went to my high school. And she became friends with my friends. 

I tried to hate her at first, or at least give her the cold shoulder to avoid the butterflies she gave me every time I laid eyes on her. But there was no denying or ignoring this feeling. It was stronger than anything I’d ever felt for anyone in my whole life. So much for avoiding love. 


Alex Carr laughed at something said across the table, tucking a lock of her curly red hair behind her ear. 

Her laugh was not a giggle or a chuckle or anything less than genuine, and I feel the need to describe it because it might seem like I’m exaggerating the sheer breathtaking beauty of her laugh. It was endearing and musical-sounding, but it also didn’t sound like a formulated, forced laugh; it was undoubtedly real, and when she laughed too hard, she sometimes covered her mouth with her hand as if she were insecure about laughing too loud or too hard or something. 

Damn, she’s beautiful, I thought. She threw her head back again, laughing, truly laughing, this time at something new, and the excessive amount of piercings on her earlobe glistened in the awful, fluorescent lighting of the school cafeteria. Her green eyes sparkled with light, and I felt myself wishing I’d been paying enough attention to hear what had been said to make her so giddy. She snorted a little and laughed harder, putting her over her mouth. I smiled involuntarily, wishing I were smiling back at her and not toward her in a potentially creepy manner from a moderate distance. She shook her head, a smile still lingering on her perfectly lipsticked mouth; as she did this, her short fiery hair flicked with her head, brushing her collarbones. The naturally curly bob she sported was one of her most unique features, but really, everything about her was admirable from my standpoint. She was-

Hey,” Wesley complained, breaking my trance. “Della.”

“Mm, yes, dear?” I replied absently, snapping my head back toward him. At some point, we were having a conversation although I couldn’t remember if we’d been mid-conversation when I’d gotten distracted. 

  “Is it really so much to ask of you to pay attention to me for, like, five minutes?” 

I rolled my eyes and smiled to demonstrate that I wasn’t serious about my sour mood. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“Were you, now?”

I ignored his remark, stealing one last glance at Alex, immediately regretting it this time. Her boyfriend’s arm was draped over her shoulders; I felt a dull ache in my heart as I turned back to Wesley, hoping I wasn’t letting on in my face what I was feeling inside. I physically shook my head to free myself of the image I’d just seen. 

“What were you saying?” I asked Wesley.

“I wanna see a movie tomorrow night.”

I snagged my lower lip with my teeth, an involuntary action, thinking about what movies were playing right now. Nothing that Wesley would be interested in. I squinted slightly at him. “What movie? What time?”

Wesley was a lot more social and outgoing than I was; the only reason I ever went out was because of him. Plus, I was almost 100 percent certain he was leading up to something; I doubted he just wanted to see a movie with me when we could just watch one in his basement; he had a literal makeshift movie theatre down there.

“Well, I’m not sure. I heard about some romantic comedy that’s playing tomorrow at 9:15?” 

“You heard about a romantic comedy, and you don’t want to see it for the sole purpose of making cynical remarks the whole time?” I scoffed, nodding. “You planning on inviting someone else to see this romantic comedy with us?”

“No, I- I mean-”

“Are you trying to make these plans to hang out with Jade? If not, we could just hang out at your house, right? Watch a romcom there? What’s with neglecting Théâtre de la Areson?” I teased him; he was clearly worried about her proximity to us as I spoke.

His eyes narrowed for a second, and he sighed. “You know, sometimes, it’s good to get out of the house. Fresh air and whatnot? Plus, they have the worst popcorn around and criminally overpriced candy. We could even get a soda or a bottle of water for, like what, eight dollars?” 

“Hmm, sounds tempting,” I deadpanned, eyes making their way into the back of my head again. 

“God, fine. So what if I wanna invite Jade to come? And your eyes are gonna get stuck back there. Lighten up, Dells. Stop being so misanthropic.”

I clicked my tongue in his direction, shaking my head. “You’re one to talk.” 

“What’s so wrong with me taking a chance on a courtship?” He dropped the high and mighty act. “Why do you care if she comes anyway?”

Because, Wes! I don’t feel like being dragged along only to watch you guys sip from the same Coke straw and hold hands for two hours!”

Eyelids flying wide, he shushed me, face growing a shade similar to that of a tomato under his deep colored skin. He glanced over to where Jade sat across the table. “We have never done that.”

I smiled. “I cannot believe you’re joining the world of optimists and romantics. Pathetic. I want a refund on my best friend, this one’s faulty. He likes a girl.” I said the last sentence a little louder, not actually being loud enough for Jade to hear me, just loud enough to make Wesley uncomfortable. 

F**k you, Della,” he muttered, trying to stay serious. “At least I have a soul and feelings for another person is possible. B***h.”

Dick,” I retorted, mimicking his mockery, glancing over at the girl Wesley’d been consistently anguishing over for the past few months. “Well, I’m not getting her a free ticket.” 

Jade Wu was very pretty in an odd and admirable kind of way that no one else could pull off as well as she could. She had long, black hair and bangs that hung around her pale face, skin almost translucent, borderline sickly-looking. She wore dark, heavy makeup, and she had a nose piercing that glinted ever so slightly when she spoke. She almost always wore long dresses that didn’t really match her expected style and demeanor; today’s dress was pink with white polka dots and a cream collar. It was like porcelain Amish doll meets goth badass. The black Doc Martens she often wore with the dresses tied her look together to match the hair and piercings. Jade was best friends with Alex. 

Mulling over the movie idea, I thought about the possibility of Alex joining us. I looked back to Wesley who’d been staring off in the same direction I was. “I’ll go if you invite a few more people, yeah? So that way I’m not just tagging along on your date as a buffer to awkward silence.”

He nodded, seeming surprised. “Yeah, perfect. But please don’t try to get out of it last minute. You have no excuse; winter break starts tomorrow, and we’re free for three weeks. Plus, I checked with Natalie, and you are not scheduled to work.”

Pulling out his phone, he texted something. He flipped his phone around, revealing a draft of a text regarding the movies. 

“Look okay?” he asked.

“Worried Jade won’t like you if you use the wrong form of ‘to the movies?’” I tantalized again.

His mouth twitched. “Well, you wouldn’t.”

“True. We wouldn’t be friends if you made it a habit of using improper grammar.” I focused on the text briefly. “Looks good, Wes.”

He hit send, sighing. Of course, I received the invitation. He’d sent it to a group chat, so I clicked to see who else he’d invited. I scanned the list: Me; Wes; Jade; Alex; Alex’s boyfriend, James; and another boy we were kind of friends with named Charlie. 

I wasn’t surprised by any of the names I saw, but I was slightly disappointed. Without a doubt, I was going to get stuck with Charlie, considering all of the other invitees were heterosexual, and pairing me up with a boy was the only logical way to plan a night out. Charlie had taken an interest in me since we were little. He grew up with us, and I’m not so sure that anyone had ever liked him at all. He was like a golden retriever or something. Loyal to a tee and always a little clueless. He had blonde hair too. And a baby face and clear, innocent eyes. I’m pretty sure his only interest other than myself was playing video games all day. He made it very clear of his liking for me when he’d stood up on the lunch tables in seventh grade to announce that he was madly in love with me, and he never really gave up, even after my declines to date him began to pitifully pile up. 

The gesture was nice, but I didn’t feel anything but mortification when he made his declaration of love for me, while the whole school snickered and mumbled, eyes crawling all over my body until I sheepishly laughed and waved at him to get down, so I could speak to him. I let him down easy in private, an attempt to spare both him and myself from public humiliation. I wasn’t interested in him, nor any other boy, for that matter. 

I was interested in a girl again. The girl in my friend group that already had a boyfriend, after only living here for, like, five months. When Alex had moved from New York at the end of last year, she made fast friends with Jade and started dating James that same summer, which sucked for me, having drooled over her for the last weeks of summer. 

I could see her making coffee at Loni’s through the window of A-B Cinemas if I stood at Concessions. I thought this mystery girl was harmless because I’d never talk to her unless I was saying the words medium cappuccino, please.  

On the first day of our junior year, she walked into the same AP United States History class- the most romantic way a love story can physically start- that I was already sitting in, and my heart dropped into my stomach. She was talking to the teacher about her transfer to the school. I’d noticed her hair first- the vibrant locks I’d stared at the whole month of August had been chopped right above her shoulders. She was fiercely ginger, her naturally orange hued hair almost glowing a faint red. Her skin was fair- darker than Jade’s, however- dotted with faint freckles that could make your heart melt into putty. She didn’t seem much for makeup, but her perfectly full lips were covered in an entirely kissable 2000s sparkly gloss. Emerald gemstones took the place of her doll-like eyes, and her long, heavy eyelashes, coated in thick, black mascara casted shadows down her freckled cheeks as she blinked. The gems landed on me in a sort of curious confusion, and I blushed, clasped my hands together under my desk, and smiled sheepishly. She’d recognized me for sure.

She smiled back with a sort of bravado that seemed timid still. Somehow

She waltzed over to me, and I examined her outfit. She was wearing a sheer, purple, sparkly top that cut off right at her belly button and hung loosely around her waist. She was also wearing low rise jeans, and I could see a small belly button piercing with a pink gemstone on it, glimmering under the looseness of her top. On her feet were a pair of battered black Converse that had certainly seen better days. She wore a single thick-chained silver necklace and about a billion bangles on both wrists. They jingled together when she moved. 

“Cappuccino Girl!” she exclaimed as she neared me, and i just about died. “This seat taken?”

I shook my head no, and smiled an undoubtedly awkward smile. “You remember me.”

“Of course, I’ve seen you come in every day I’ve worked at Loni’s. I doubt your real name’s Cappuccino Girl though. What is it really?”

“Uh, Della… Valora.” 

“Nice to meet you, Della Valora.”

My heart fluttered as she spoke my name for the first time, and the promise I’d made to myself flew out the window. 

It seemed like she owned the confidence of someone secure who knew who they were, and the portion of her that seemed scared could’ve just been the new school and the new state. Some ludicrous, lesbionic part of my brain wondered if there was something more that made her look apprehensive under her self-assured appearance. God only knows the secrets I hid behind a false front; I even hid my true self from my best friend. 

As for Wes, we’d always been friends. There was a long history between us, but the relationship always felt similar to that of a brother and sister; I never had an awkward crush-phase with him; then again, I never had any kind of crush phase with boys at all. When Wesley started liking Jade, we all started sitting together and hanging out as a group of six. It was pretty much known that Wesley and Jade liked each other, but they were both too awkward about it to actually date each other. And the group just worked, I guess; it wasn’t a weird transition, either, because Wes knew James from basketball, and I am an invisible, passive ghost that can pretend to get along with pretty much anyone. 

The entire table mumbled about the plans for the next night, and I watched Charlie glance in my direction; I almost audibly groaned but managed a quick smile before turning away. When the bell rang for my next class, I grabbed Wesley by the arm to pull him along as we walked. 

“Woah, what?” he demanded in reference to the death grip on his bicep.

“F*****g Charlie?” I muttered, releasing him.

“It’s not like I could just not invite him. He was sitting right there. You know, maybe you should give him a chance. Maybe… uh, maybe he’s not so bad.” He snorted and sent a wink in my direction.

I groaned aloud this time, shoving him playfully in the direction of English. Maybe Charlie actually was okay. Maybe I would like him if I had any interest in boys at all. 

As we made our way to our seats, Wesley began blabbering about the movies. Apparently, he had yeses from four people, including him and myself. He was only waiting on James and Jade. Some part of me wished James wouldn’t come because I wanted to be alone with Alex, even though I didn’t even have any idea of what I would say or do if we were alone. Not like I could ask her to break up with James for me. Who knows if she even likes girls at all? I let my mind wander, thinking about Alex when a thought suddenly occurred to me. 

“Wes,” I whisper-yelled to get his attention. Class had started, and we were supposed to be working on a big project due after winter vacation. 

He turned, raising his eyebrows to tell me I had his attention.

“I don’t have a ride. My parents, uh, they have this thing for church, and there won’t be a car at home. I have to give them my car after school.”

“No worries. You can ride with me, and Jade just texted to say she could go, so I offered to give her a ride too. You’re riding in the back though, Dee.”

I sighed, nodding. “Thank you.”

“You still not going to church with your parents?” he teased.

Wesley knew that I didn’t share the same beliefs as my parents. I shook my head. “Della and Vanessa, corrupting the family name since birth, I guess.” Vanessa was my older sister. 

“Looks like it. How is Vanessa? She can’t take you to the movie?”

I shook my head again. “No, she’s out of town. Visiting her friend, Will, but between you and me, I think they’re a little more than just friends.”

“Really?” Wesley asked, smirking. “I have never seen Vee with any guy, like, ever. Does repelling men run in the family, then?”

“Apparently not anymore,” I smiled. “I think she really likes him. She talks about him a lot… But anyway, she can’t give me a ride, so I need one from you, and I hope I’m not crashing your date too hard.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t worry about it. You can help break the ice at first,” he said, glancing down at his phone. “Hey, James said he can make it too, so that’s everyone.”

I felt my heart drop. I smiled fakely and sighed, “Oh, good.”

I went back to fantasizing as I wrote my essay on my laptop. I was almost completely unaware of what I was writing, but I was sure it was fine enough as I followed the bland structure and prestigious format that every high school English teacher knew and loved ever so dearly. When the bell rang, I stood quickly. 

“Bye, Wes. I’ll text you tonight,” I breathed, walking swiftly from the room, off to history. 

I wasn’t necessarily so excited to make it to AP US History before anyone else, but Alex would be there, and I wasn’t going to miss any opportunity to talk to her. Then again, Charlie was in our class too. Upon turning in the doorway of the classroom, I saw that Charlie was busy chatting with another kid that I didn’t recognize. I never really saw him with other people; maybe he had a life outside of pining after a lesbian. I sat down, still looking in the direction of Charlie when I felt the presence of someone next to me. Glancing quickly to my left, I watched Alex take her usual seat next to me, flashing a big, toothy smile. My heart fluttered, and thank God she spoke because the nervous sand-in-your-throat inability-to-speak kicked in.

“So you and Charlie, huh?” she asked cooly.

I laughed nervously. “Uh, no way. Absolutely not.” F**k.

“Really? He seemed pretty thrilled to be invited to the movies with all of us. Plus, it’s pretty clear that Wesley only wanted to invite Jade because he likes her. It just didn’t seem like a coincidence that Charlie likes you, and all of us will be there in pairs...” she trailed off, seemingly embarrassed. Cute.

“Uh, yeah, no,” I laughed. “I do not like Charlie, but Wes does like Jade… which you didn’t hear from me.”

I thought I caught a glimpse of relief wash over her face before she made a show of zipping her lips and throwing away a fake key. “I’ll take it to the grave. Jade likes him too, anyway.”

“Oh, thank God,” I sighed. “He’d kill me if he knew I told anyone.”

And then she laughed. And oh, my God, her f*****g laugh. I felt chills shoot up my spine. I averted my eyes from her, blushing. When I looked up, I met eyes with Charlie across the room. His eyes were angry, jealous. He sat down in a desk across the room from us, which was abnormal as he usually sat on the other side of me. I found his pouting pitiful. 

If only he knew there was absolutely no f*****g chance for him.

© 2020 beatrice

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Added on August 6, 2020
Last Updated on August 6, 2020
Tags: lesbian, comingofage, comingout, fiction, wlw, friendship, lgbtq, lgbt, highschool, pride, loveislove, relationship, teen



Costa Mesa, CA

she/her wannabe novelist. hopeless romantic. somewhat pessimistic. coffee enthusiast. currently working on a young adult lesbian coming of age book. more..