Who We Could Be - Chelsea M. Cameron Page 0,38
opened something up in me, and being at that bar tonight.” She shivered. “It was like sticking a key into a lock and opening a box in my brain that I didn’t know was there.”
I’d had a lot of experience with queer people. Hell, I had two trans lesbian aunts. But nearly everyone had been out before I’d known them. This was a new experience, and this was my best friend.
I had to find the right words. I desperately wished I could talk with my aunts, because they’d know exactly what to say.
“I love you, always. You’re my best friend and I’ll do whatever you need to help you work through this, and you have my support. And I love you. Did I say that already?”
Sweat collected on my upper lip and the air in the room felt thick for a moment.
“Thanks, that means a lot. It’s kind of mind-blowing that you can not know yourself so thoroughly. You know?”
Not really, but I nodded anyway.
“Do you want a hug?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” she said. Her arms came around me and we lay on the floor together, our noses just inches apart. It was impossible to tell which sound was louder: the thunder or the beating of my heart.
“Thank you for telling me. I know that wasn’t easy.”
“Thank you for being my best friend. I knew you were the first person I needed to talk to about it with. I’m so messed up, Tess.”
Now the tears started and I used my thumbs to wipe them away.
“You’re not messed up. You’re just figuring yourself out. Some people don’t even do that their entire lives.”
She sniffed and I wished I had a tissue handy. “But how could I not know? Is my entire fucking life a lie? Am I a lesbian? Am I bi? What am I even supposed to do now?”
The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, all tangling together, her eyes wide with panic.
I held her face in my hands and met her eyes.
“We’ll figure it out. You don’t have to do anything right now. You’re safe with me, and if you want to talk about it or don’t want to talk about it, let me know. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“I’m going to get you some tissues.” Reluctantly, I let go of her and scooted over to the nightstand and pulled down the box of tissues.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said, after she’d wiped her nose and her face. “Do I have to start wearing flannel and buy a bunch of power tools? I don’t even know what to do with this.”
“I don’t think there’s one way to be queer, but if you want to know about either of those things, my aunts are only a phone call away. They’d be happy to take you under their wing and teach you their ways.”
She snorted and I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t want this to be an upsetting moment for her. I wanted her to know how much I loved her and wanted her to be happy.
“So, can I finally say how much I fucking hated TJ?” I asked.
Monty narrowed her eyes and glared at me. “That was never in question, Cin. I knew you hated him. You are not as subtle as you think you are.”
“That’s a lie, I can be very subtle.” I picked up my frappe and almost dropped the glass.
“It’s fine, I didn’t like him either. What was I thinking?”
A flash of lightning lit up the room.
“Hey, we all make bad decisions. Remember when I thought I’d look great with bangs and cut them myself while attempting to follow a video?”
Monty picked up her frappe and sat up, pulling her knees close.
“I told you that was a bad idea, but you didn’t listen.”
I sputtered into my glass, almost spraying frappe everywhere. “You were the one who handed me the scissors!”
“Because you were going to use kid’s scissors and would have made it even worse! I gave you the right pair of scissors and the rest was up to you. I was not responsible for anything you did after.”
“You are so full of shit right now and I should dump this on your head, but I won’t. You’re welcome.” I held up my frappe and leaned toward her.
Monty pointed at me with one finger. “Don’t you even dare, Tessa O’Connell.”
I stuck the straw back in my mouth and sipped. “I wouldn’t want to waste this.”
“Just don’t mess with me or you’ll wake up