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After that, they sat me down and I told them that I’d recently come to realize these feelings and I could tell Mom wanted to say something.

“That Stella you had over is really pretty,” she said, totally obvious. I felt my face go red.

“Are you two . . . ?” she trailed off.

“Um, kind of? It’s very, very new. We’ve just been hanging out and stuff. She hadn’t told her family either, so we had to do that before we could really, you know, move forward.” Why was this so awkward to talk about? If Stella was a boy, it wouldn’t be a big deal.

“Well, I think you should have her over for dinner so we can officially meet her. She must be pretty special,” Dad said with a wink.

“Yeah, she is,” I said, biting my lip. “She really is.”

“You look happy, baby,” Mom said, tears glistening in her eyes. “Really happy.”

“I am. I think,” I said. We talked more about life and whether or not I’d want to propose, or get proposed to, and how a wedding with two brides works, and it was the best conversation I’d had with my parents in ages.

It made me feel guilty about how often I brushed them off or shut them down or closed my door in their face. I vowed that I was going to stop doing that so much. Shutting them out of my life.

We had another group hug and then Dad said we should celebrate and go out to dinner, which we almost never did, so I went to put on one of my nicer button up shirts, black pants that didn’t have rips in the knees, and my black Chucks. I even made some effort with my hair, got out the curling iron I’d bought on a whim years ago, curled the ends of my hair and left the rest down. I even did eyeliner and put some colored gloss on my lips.

“You look so pretty!” Mom said.

“Thanks.” She gave me another hug and we headed out to the nicest restaurant in town. “Nicest” meant they had white tablecloths and tall candles on the table and had a huge wine menu.

I didn’t get to text Stella until after we’d gotten home from dinner, and I bet she was climbing the walls to know how it had gone.

So Mom asked if I was pregnant. And then I laughed. And then I told them and she said “oh thank God. I thought it was something bad.”

OMG! I can’t believe it. So they were fine?

Uh, yeah. They were more than fine. Mom said that since being gay is rare I’m like a diamond or something.

WOW. That’s . . .  wow.

I know. So that happened.

What do we do now?

I wasn’t sure. I was still reeling from the fact that my parents were all aboard the rainbow train.

Can we give it another week? Please?
We had our presentation on Monday, which meant that after that, there would be no more private “study” sessions in the library and we’d go back to being on display all the time. It sucked, but I just wasn’t ready to face everything else yet.

Sure. Whatever you need. BTW, I’m really proud of you.

I couldn’t help but smile. Hearing that she was proud of me made my heart want to smash out of my chest.

Thanks. That means a lot. And I’m proud of you too. We both did a lot this weekend, didn’t we?

That we did.

W
hile Stella gave our presentation about feminism in
Jane Eyre
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. If I hadn’t liked her before, I probably would have when she started to talk. She was incredible. Smart, articulate, and beautiful. She absolutely nailed it and I could tell Mr. Hurley was pleased when I handed in our paper.

“Well done, ladies,” he said.

I looked at Stella and held my hand up for a high five. She looked quickly around before she connected her hand with mine, ever so briefly. It took all my control not to grab her hand and hold onto it for the rest of the class. We had to sit through the rest of the presentations, which were mostly a snore-fest.

“Finally,” Stella said when the bell rang and we were dismissed. I got up and expected her to go back to not wanting to be seen with me, but she packed up her bag and waited for me.

“Oh, are you going to walk with me?” I asked.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice all flirty. Most everyone had already left, so we were pretty much safe, as long as we talked in a low volume.

“You gonna carry my books too?” I asked and she rolled her eyes.

“No, because this isn’t a television show from the 1950s. Come on.” I left the room first and she followed after me, keeping pace. I realized I didn’t even know what class she had next.

“Where are you headed?”

“Calc. You?”

“Health.” I made a face. It was the worst class ever. The gym teacher just stood up and told us not to have sex and talked about the different muscle groups. I pretty much slept through most of it, but it was a requirement for graduation and there was no way out.

“Well, I’ll walk you as far as the health room,” she said with a smile before looking around to see if anyone was watching us. As far as I could tell, no one was.

“Thanks,” I said and she turned to look at me again. “You look really cute today, by the way. I wanted to tell you earlier.” She ducked her head as we walked and blushed a little.

“Thank you. I hate that compliments from you turn me into absolute mush.” I laughed.

“Well, that makes two of us.” People passed by us and didn’t even look twice. They were all dealing with their own shit and insecurities and thoughts. One good thing about teenagers; we were so absorbed with our own issues that we didn’t notice other people’s.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” I asked and she stopped walking.

“Are you asking me out?” Her voice was loud and I stepped closer to shush her.

“No, I meant that we should hang out. At your house or something. By the way, my parents want to meet you. Like, officially. Even though we haven’t decided what the hell we’re doing. They want you to come over for dinner.” I cringed as I said it, but she laughed.

“Wow, meeting the parents. That’s a big step, Ky. Is your dad going to bring his shotgun to the table and start cleaning it?” We were both definitely going to be late, but I didn’t care. I slowed my pace even more and she did too. Like we didn’t want to leave each other.

“Uh, I don’t think so. Seeing as how he doesn’t have one? And you can’t get me pregnant, so there’s that.” She snorted.

“Yup. That’s one thing we don’t have to worry about. Should we add it to the list?”

“Definitely.” We finally reached the health classroom and Mr. Varney was already trying to get everyone in order, which usually took at least five or ten minutes of threatening everyone with detention. He never actually gave them out because he wanted everyone to like him. Adults were weird sometimes.

“Um yeah, you can come over. My dad might be home, but he’ll be working and he’s pretty shy so he’ll leave us alone. Unless that’s not okay with you?” Mr. Varney was yelling at someone and I hoped I could slip in while he was distracted.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I guess. I’ll meet him eventually, right? You want me to just meet you there at like five?” I knew when her practices got out now because she’d texted me her schedule.

“Perfect. I’ll see you later. Babe.” She whispered the last word and gave me a wink before strutting off to Calculus. I definitely watched her walk away.

I slid into my seat in the back of the room just as Mr. Varney was threatening Esther Wilson with detention for being on her phone already.

Phew.

I
was flipping out a little as I drove to Stella’s house. I’d brought green juice and Boston cream donuts for each of us this time. I wasn’t scared of her dad, exactly, but knowing that he knew that Stella liked girls and her suddenly having me over looked a little suspicious. Or maybe I was thinking too much. Probably.

I took a breath and got out of my car with the bakery bag and the juices. I walked slowly so I didn’t trip and drop anything. I made it to the front door and knocked, feeling like a weirdo.

“Hey,” Stella said as she opened the door. “Come on in.” I did, reluctantly, and she shut the door behind me. I pretended that I wasn’t looking for her dad, but I totally was.

“Relax,” she said in my ear. “He’s already in his office.” I shivered as she ran her hand down my back and then plucked one of the juices out of my hands.

“Thanks, babe.” I followed her into the living room and she sat down. Her hair was still wet from her post-practice shower and she had a tank top and shorts on. I was pretty sure she was not wearing a bra under the tank top, which was a little distracting.

A lot distracting.

“How was practice?” I said, forcing myself to look at the juice as I unscrewed the cap.

“Good,” she said, lifting her hair off her shoulder and draping it over the back of the couch. “I’m sore. Coach made me do a million scorpions and my back is mad.” I had no idea what she meant. She must have seen the question on my face. She sighed and then got up. I had no idea what she was going to do until she took her foot in one hand and swung it behind her head.

Holy. Shit.

She popped her foot up until she was almost bent in half and then leg go, acting like people did that every day.

My mouth was dry as she sat back down.

“Who says cheerleading isn’t a sport?”

“Not me,” I managed to say. “Doesn’t that hurt like hell? Your body isn’t really supposed to bend like that. Unless you don’t have a spine.”

“You dork. I’ve been cheering since I was a kid. If you get flexible when you’re young, it’s easier. I barely feel it anymore, as long as I make sure I stretch every day.” I just stared at her.

“What?”

“That was some contortionist shit right there,” I said. She waved me off.

“Eh, everyone can do that.” I shook my head.

“You’re crazy.” She grinned.

“Shut up and hand me whatever you have in there.” I passed the bakery bag over to her and she pulled out the donut.

“Oh, helloooooo.” She gazed lovingly at it.

“Should I leave you two alone?” I said, pretending to get up. She bit into the donut and rolled her eyes at me.

“I love carbs,” she said through a mouthful of donut. I shook my head at her and pulled a napkin out of the bag and started wiping her face.

“Stop it,” she said, pulling away. I was just about to tackle her against the arm of the couch when someone cleared their throat. I whipped around to find a man with graying blonde hair, glasses, and Stella’s eyes looking down at us.

“Oh, hello Mr. Lewis,” I said, putting distance between me and Stella and hoping that my face wasn’t too red.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Kyle,” he said. Right. Stella had already told him about me. I glanced at her and she was still staring down at her donut as if it was going to start talking for her.

He stepped over and put his hand out. I shook hands with him, feeling more awkward than I ever had in my entire life.

“I heard your presentation went well,” he said and I could feel him trying to make conversation, but it was just making the whole thing worse.

“Yeah, Stella was amazing,” I said and then wanted to kick myself.

“Whatever,” she said, fighting a smile.