Chapter 21 #2
Octavia hummed in agreement.
“But that’s life. You take one path, and the other disappears. It’s what makes things tragic and worth it.”
“That’s a mature way to see it.” Octavia smiled, impressed.
I laughed. “Are you surprised?”
“No, not really…” She shrugged. “I guess I’m still trying to figure out your game.”
“Think you’re close?” I teased.
“Almost,” she whispered.
“And is that fun for you? The figuring out people from the outside?”
“Not at all.” She shook her head. “It’s just what I’m used to doing. I don’t enjoy watching, though.”
“You’d prefer joining in?” I teased.
“I do. Or did.” Octavia picked at a callous on her palm. “I didn’t use to be very observant as a kid. I was very trusting, which was cause for concern for my parents, of course.”
She laughed, brushing back hair that hadn’t even fallen into her face. “I would take candy from strangers or go in a van to pet a puppy.”
“Metaphorically speaking, right?”
She bit down on her lower lip, embarrassed. “I can’t confirm that…”
“Oh, Octavia.” I frowned, annoyed at a young and naive version of her.
Her gaze fell to my lips when I said her name. “I wanted friends. And I didn’t know how to make them, so when someone was nice to me, I jumped on it. It’s rare when people are nice to you first.”
My heart ached. I had the complete opposite experience growing up. Kindness in those formative years saved me more times than I could ever imagine.
“I got into trouble a lot, of course. I can’t remember how many times my parents had to sit me down and drill into my brain that not everyone had my best interests at heart. Their warnings never really stuck until I was in middle school.”
She paused for a moment, gaze flickering down to her boots. I prayed she’d offer a little more, my desire to be closer to her running rampant.
I tugged on the collar of the sweater, breathing in a small breeze of her. Our legs stretched out, feet between one another. She twisted her boot, grazing my heel. I twisted, too. Even with a thick layer of leather between us, I would use any and every excuse to feel her.
“There were these girls. Beautiful and funny and…nice.”
The sun was getting the upper hand, reaching through the thick clouds to paint lines across Octavia’s skin.
Her lashes were lighter in the light, a soft brown that fluttered as delicately as a butterfly’s wings.
My heel pressed more against the toe of her boot.
Octavia didn’t move away. Instead, she lifted her toe slightly and brushed it up and down the side of my boot.
“I had a crush on the most popular one.” The hitch in Octavia’s voice made me frown. “It was the first time I thought I had a chance with a girl. She was open about being into girls and guys.”
“And you’re…?”
“Like her, into both. Bisexual,” she confirmed, and the slight tilt of her brow asked me for confirmation on something she might have already guessed.
“Same.”
We smiled at each other as a tiny thread sewed us together. Bisexual and Black. There was an incomparable camaraderie in it. The strange, quiet, queer girl who always moved and the strange, paranormal, queer girl who was always on the road.
Despite our similarities, we were different types of threads. But a variety in texture lent to a far more intriguing tapestry, if you asked me. We wouldn’t be solely utilitarian. Together, Octavia and I wove something built for more than warmth.
“She was nice to me,” Octavia continued, sobering a bit as she recalled.
“And was the first person outside my parents who knew I got crushes on people regardless of their gender. So, I trusted her, and she knew that. In hindsight, there were plenty of red flags. She’d never let me sit still for long whenever there were a bunch of people around.
She’d order me to get them things. Grab more snacks or refill the drinks.
“I convinced myself I was being helpful and not being used. And then there was this party. Everyone from school was invited, and she knew I hadn’t experienced anything like it before.
So, she told me she’d help me get ready.
She said it was themed. We went out for costumes, and she promised I looked good in this very revealing nurse outfit. ”
Octavia laughed. The amusement was genuine because she was over a decade away from the experience. I felt smack-dab in the middle of it. Experiencing that heightened anxiety I had when I was a teen, and every interaction I experienced felt life-altering.
“There I was, thirteen in a short skirt, low-cut top and some silly old nurse cap,” she said. “I showed up the only person in something that risqué. It was a school of nerds, would you believe it? And I was a nerd through and through. Horse girl. League of Legends. Magic: The Gathering nerd.”
“I only understand one of those things,” I said. “But the rest definitely make it seem like you were certified.”
“Trust me, I was.” She crossed her heart.
“No one would believe that after seeing me in that outfit, though. No one would believe me after she kissed me in some dark corner upstairs, and one of her friends found us. She pushed me off her and said I’d forced myself on her.
That I was only hanging out with her because she was the only girl in school who openly liked girls.
She cried, and she had these big green eyes and a pretty smile, and I was the quiet Black girl who moved there two months ago.
The Black girl who was taller than all the other girls.
The Black girl who wore a short skirt to a middle school party… ”
She paused, letting out a breathy, humorless laugh. My jaw tightened. I knew without a doubt what that’d done to her psyche. How it’d rewritten all the parts of her that were soft and trusting.
“You deserved to be a girl. To have crushes and be soft and be treated with care,” I murmured. “Just like the rest of them. I hope you know that.”
She shook her head. “For the longest time I didn’t. I figured I was…defective. ‘Deviant’ was what one of them called me.”
My fingers curled into a fist. Fury tasted of metal, nearly impossible to swallow, so I let it linger on my tongue as I muttered, “Fuck them for ever making you feel like anything less than worthy.”
“Now, sure,” she agreed with a small smile.
“But at the time, I thought I deserved it. Deserved to only be kissed in corners because my skin was too dark and always breaking out too much. My bisexuality an indication that maybe I was desperate. Those girls looked at me and saw ‘other’ for every check box. I wanted to hide away after that. Save everyone the trouble of trying to figure out what I was.”
And hide she did. All the way out here where I wouldn’t have been able to reach her if not for a nightmare.
“Who,” I said.
“Hm?”
“You’re not a what, don’t let them dehumanize you,” I said, jaw tight from lingering anger.
She smiled and quickly blinked a few times before looking away. “Thank you.”
A bird chirped in the distance. Another joined in, their singing a soothing duet to pair with the lake’s silence.
“I started watching people after that party. No more feet first. No more blind trust in kindness.” Octavia straightened her shoulders and held my gaze.
She showed me she wasn’t broken down by it.
Because this wasn’t a weak point. No, how she decided to cope was the source of her strength.
This was how Octavia made it through all those years of loneliness.
“I didn’t give people the benefit of the doubt anymore,” she said. “I know it’s something I should probably have moved on from by now—”
I frowned. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I’m in my thirties with a chip on my shoulder from middle school.” She laughed under her breath as if it were ridiculous.
“And age is supposed to be the defining marker of healing? When has that ever been a thing?”
“Plenty of people will say it’s a thing.” Octavia didn’t sound sure.
“Show me a person who’s completely healed all their trauma by the age of thirty and I’ll…” I tried to think of something preposterous.
“Believe in ghosts?” she teased.
“Worse,” I countered. “I’ll believe in Sasquatch.”
Octavia leaned in. “Wait? Sasquatch isn’t real?”
I sighed. “Don’t let December hear you say that.”
“Why would that be so weird? On top of everything else?”
“Because, come on, think about it. Some missing link in the middle of the PNW smart enough to evade all technology well into the twenty-first century?”
Octavia shrugged. A lightness returned to her face. The sun smoothed out any lingering wrinkles of the past, settling her into the present. I ached to figure out how to make this her permanent state. For now, I’d have to settle for the temporary.
“It sounds more plausible to me than ghosts,” she said.
“Of course, that’s what you believe in.” I exaggerated a scoff and pulled my hands out from underneath my thighs to rub my fingers together.
My knuckles were stiff and freezing. I reached for the paddles again, hoping some movement would get my blood flowing.
But before I could make contact, Octavia carefully pushed herself out of her seat.
Her eyes went wide at the gentle rocking of the boat.
She stretched out her arms, trying to balance her weight once more.
“What are you doing?” I asked, laughing a bit at the sight of her on both knees in front of me with her arms out as if she had a pair of wings.
“When it comes to weather and environment, your lack of preparation is troubling.” Octavia sighed as if she were being put out, but the lingering smile on her lips told another story.
She dug into one of her many coat pockets, retrieving a pair of knitted pink, purple, and blue-striped mittens. The colors were of the bi flag.
“Your fingers are nearly blue.” Her nose wrinkled at the sight. “I figured you wouldn’t have the proper gear on.”