Prologue

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Everybody has their own beliefs. Everybody stereotypes people differently. What people know and what they think they they know aren't the same thing. People mean one thing then do another. Nobody's perfect. No two people are exactly alike. It's all part of being human.

In my eighteen years of living on this planet, I've been bullied, questioned, stereotyped, bitched at, fought with and for what? All because I'm a lesbian? In a world like ours, people don't understand what it's like to be b, gay, lesbian, trans, pansexual, whatever. Children and teenagers all over the globe are bullied and questioned about being anything but straight everyday. Some people say it's just for attention, or they might not feel that way when they're older. It's kinda hard to when you've known since you were a little kid.

When somebody questioned my being a lesbian, or picked a fight with me, I was glad I identified as a biromantic lesbian. From the time I was five to when I was about fifteen or sixteen, I was mentally attracted to both males and females, but only physically attracted to girls. Though it confused everybody when I would date a guy, but never screw him, and I would date and screw other girls. But everybody does have exceptions for somethings. Mine just happens to be Brenton Walker.

Brenton and I were together for half of our freshman year then got back together at the end of our sophomore year after being apart for the year. In all honesty, I never thought I'd look at a guy the same way I look at a girl. Throughout the course of our relationship, I got questioned a lot because I was with a guy despite being a lesbian. I ended up breaking up with him the first time because of it. Last time we were together, I punched anyone who questioned my relationship.

You might be asking why I'm telling you all this. The answer to that is simple: He was standing ten feet away from me, and it was the first time I've seen him in two years. I was so shocked to see him, I completely forgot my friend, Shayla, was standing next to me in the middle of the store, completely frozen, while we were suppose to be picking up some last minute odds and ends before we move from our small town of Wetumpka, Alabama to Charlotte, North Carolina. Even though Brenton lived in the same town as Shayla and me, neither of us saw him very much because he went to school in a different town. Then he would spend the rest of the day doing homework and playing video games.

"Piper? Piper!" Shayla's voice snapped me back to reality. "Go talk to him."

"Go talk to who?" I played stupid.

"Brenton. Who else? I can tell you're staring at him. He's staring straight at you. And I know you wanna talk to him."

I stood there for a few moments, debating what to do. Shayla and I needed some stuff for our move, and her boyfriend, Connor, would probably complain if we were gone longer than we said. My stuff was already packed and loaded for the most part. We weren't leaving until sometime the next day anyway. Might as well say what the hell.

Before I realized what was going on, my legs developed a mind of their own, and I was standing in front of him. His six foot five towered over my four eleven. His light brown hair was buzzed, and his electric blue eyes were behind his rectangular glasses. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts, and his flip flops squeaked as he kicked the floor. Before I could open my mouth, the rim of my light brown cowboy hat fell over my eyes.

"Hi, Brenton." I pushed my hat back up.

"Hi, Piper. You look different." he pointed to my shorts, cowboy boots and red flannel shirt.

"How? I've always dressed like this."

"I've always seen you wear anything but shorts and boots." I shrugged. "So, what are you and Shayla up to?"

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