Chapter 22 Jessa
JESSA
She’s hurt, I can see it in her eyes, the way they’ve gone bright with the prediction of tears.
I didn’t want to hurt her, I wanted to keep her safe.
I didn’t want her to go through everything I’ve been through.
I don’t want to push her into something she’s not ready for.
She had a boyfriend that she wanted, a boyfriend she even had sex with, so she can be straight.
Why would anyone choose what I live with when the socially acceptable option is available?
“Say something,” she says, and now the tears are in her voice, too. I want to stay strong and keep pretending this can be something light and casual, but she’s not getting it and I can’t hurt her anymore.
“I…” I look down at my feet. “Bird, you don’t want this.”
She wraps her arms around her torso, like she’s protecting herself from me. Like I’m not the one protecting her.
“How can you tell me what I want?”
“I know it’s exciting and edgy, but I’m not a tourist attraction you want to stop at. There are repercussions for—”
“You are not a tourist attraction!”
I soak more paper towels at the sink and continue scrubbing at my shirt, the brown stain most definitely permanent. “Bird, this isn’t a fling or fun or anything nice. If people see us, if they hear about us, if we even spend more time together than normal, they’re gonna come after you, too.”
She’s superhumanly fast as she closes in and grabs the paper towels and sets them on the counter, then takes my hands in hers. This time I don’t pull back.
“I. Don’t. Care.”
She’s staring me right in the eyes and I see the ocean-green color of hers, ringed with blue, looking determined, ready to take on the world. She has no idea what the world can dish out.
“You live with the fucking enemy, Bird. She will decimate you. You’ll care when they’re calling you dyke and queer and chucking food at you. You’ll care when the assholes corner you and threaten you with a ‘good deep dicking.’ You’ll care and then you’ll hate me for bringing you into it all.”
She’s shaking her head, her hair a beautiful curly curtain, another urge to touch, another urge to fight that touch.
I drop her hands and turn to the mirror.
I see myself, I look rough, eyes red-rimmed, bags under from not sleeping, strain showing through every part of my face and body.
This isn’t easy. But so often the right thing isn’t.
“I’m trying to protect you, Bird.”
I see her reflection walking up to me, feel her arms as they wrap around, that safe, happy feeling in me fighting against all the good sense I have.
“Jessa, I don’t need that kind of protecting. I can take care of myself.”
“Like you did at the club?” I can taste the sneer in my words.
“Don’t do that,” she says, not pulling away. “Don’t go mean to get out of this. Tell me why. Tell me why you think we can’t be together.”
She’s right. It’s my reflex to make things mean. But I’m tired of sniping. I’m tired of hurting others in the name of survival and protection. I’m just tired.
“ ’Cause you’re straight, Bird. And I took advantage of you being high and this is all gonna wear off and you’re gonna want to go back to guys, and then you get to try to repair your reputation, and that means cutting me out. I’d rather be friends than nothing. You see?”
She pulls back and I can’t turn to face her.
I squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t see her walk out.
I wait for the sound of the door slamming, but instead her hands are on my waist, turning me around, her finger on my chin, tilting my head up, and when my eyes open she’s standing there with a confused look on her face.
“Okay, first: You did not take advantage of me. I was barely even buzzed when I kissed you, and I knew exactly what I was doing. And second, why are you just assuming I’m straight?”
“Dade said you had a boyfriend at writing camp, that you had sex with him, then it all ended, and maybe I’m a substitute, but not a good one.”
Her lips form a firm line and I can tell she’s mad, but instead of taking it out on me, she puts her hand on my cheek, the one with the slightest touch of yellowed bruise left.
“Well, I think I have a better idea of who I am and what I want than a guy I’ve said five sentences to my entire life.
” She pauses and I can see she’s breathing heavier.
“Besides, that was never meant to be shared. I told Kayla that in confidence, and it wasn’t even the full story. You’re not the first girl I’ve kissed.”
“What?” I breathe.
“I knew what I was doing—it wasn’t like some rebound substitute or whatever you’re thinking. I like you. I tried not to like you, but I do.”
“If you can be straight, you should. It’s easier. It’s safer.”
“I don’t think it’s that easy. It’s not a choice I can just make.
” She pulls away and opens her bag, starts rummaging through until she pulls out her notebook—the one she carries with her all the time.
“Look, at camp Silas and I were together, sort of, and yes, we did have sex, but…” She pulls out a picture, one I’ve seen before.
It’s her sandwiched between a guy and girl, looking happy.
“I also spent time with Kat. We kissed. It was great, but scary, and I wasn’t ready to deal with what that meant. ”
“So you lost both of them, right?”
“No, we all realized that summer would end and we wouldn’t likely get together again regardless. I think they were both hurt and I wish I could’ve handled it differently, but I was confused.”
“See, you’re just confused, you—”
“I was confused,” she cuts me off, “but I’m not anymore, and I’m starting to understand that for me it’s always been about the person—who they are inside.”
“So you’re saying you’re, what, bi?” I ask her, allowing myself to feel the tiniest sliver of hope.
“I don’t know, that’s not how I’ve ever said it, but…”
“Well, how do you usually say it?”
“I don’t. I mean, I haven’t ever actually said it before.” She stops and exhales. “So, yes. I am.”
I try to set aside my own anxiety because I know this is a big moment for her, and one you don’t get to do over if it doesn’t go well.
“I’m bi,” she says, and her voice is trembling in a way I’d think would mean she was about to cry, except she’s smiling as she looks down at her feet. “That’s the first time I’ve ever said that out loud.”
I nod and smile. Clear my throat and try to find the right words. “Bird, I… I’m glad you told me that, and I’m one hundred percent behind you. Really.”
“Thanks,” she says quietly.
“But—”
“But?” she echoes.
“You might be ready to accept who you are, but I guarantee you’re not ready for the shitstorm that will come if anyone finds out about us. And I’m trying to be a good friend to you by—”
“No!” she shouts. “Stop saying that. Silas and Kat? They were my friends. Both of them. I cared about them. I still care about them, but I never felt for either of them the way I feel about you. You know we’re not ‘just friends.’ And you know this isn’t some cheap thrill for me. Right?”
Reluctantly, I nod again because I do know.
“Jessa, all I can think about is you, and how getting to know you has introduced me to one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met.
” She moves closer to me now, and I don’t have the strength not to accept her outstretched hands.
“And she’s secretly kind and caring and has one of the best hearts I’ve ever met.
I fell for your heart, Jessa, I fell for who you are at your core,” she says, her hand pressed against my chest, my heart fluttering beneath it because I know that I’ve fallen for her too.
“If that means I get to duck airborne tots with you, I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is never kissing your lips again, never feeling your hands in mine, never being close to you. If you want to protect me from something, protect me from that.”
These are the kinds of words I never fathomed would be said to me.
Like the poetess she is, she finds words that touch me so deep that I can’t hold both the worry and the sound of them in my mind, that I can’t stop my hand from touching her face, curling around to the back of her head, snaking into that soft hair, and pulling her toward me.
The sweet smell of sorbet and honeysuckle fills my head as I lean in and we kiss, the movement electric.
I can barely come up for air before she’s on me as well, my back against the counter, her body soft and warm on me, and for a moment I want to fall into her, and her into me and we become one and…
I really wish we weren’t in a bathroom, because I want so much more but I don’t want it in the dollar-fifty theater crapper.
She pulls back and smiles in this flirty, mischievous way that fills me with happy trembles. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” she says, and lays a trail of kisses down my neck that pulls an involuntary gasp out of me before she rests her head on my shoulder, hugging me tight.
“Jessa, I don’t want to push you into anything, but if you do want to be together, I want to be with you.”
“I just worry about school….”
“If you want, we can take our time figuring out about school. I can wait until final bell to hold your hand, but it will be very challenging.”
She’s proposing, what? Secret dating? She’s suggesting an “us” is possible. For once the shame and disgust at myself peels away and I want an “us.” I want more.
“Okay,” I say in a measured tone.
“Okay to what?” She’s gonna make me say it.
“Wanna go steady?” I could not be more awkward.
She laughs. “Sure, Jessa, we can go steady. And later we’ll start a nuclear family, but who’s gonna be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?”