Bathe in Color

39. Grayson Pierce, Age 17, August 17, 2019

I've been sitting at the dinner table for a while now, staring aimlessly at the mahogany wood glistening in the dim spotlight. After unpacking my clothes and feeding Tessa breakfast, I couldn't concentrate on anything but the clock slowly ticking away the seconds before my parents arrive. My parents said they were thirty minutes away, but they are clearly running a little behind. Not that I'm surprised. Once you get into the city, you are bound to hit traffic. Still, sitting here waiting for them is causing me a plethora of emotional stress. My fear and anxiety is breaking me down like a suffocating weight. Worse, whenever I'm not thinking about coming out to my parents, I'm dreaming about Paris. All I want right now is to be back with him and sitting here alone without him makes me hurt so much inside. I don't know how I ever thought I could live without him in my life.

Last night has only affirmed my realization that I need to come out. I need to tell the truth and stop being fake. It felt fantastic to spend yesterday with Paris – kissing him and holding him like nothing else mattered. If I want to make my relationship with Paris exclusive, I need to stop acting straight and lying to the world about who I am. I never wanted to be with Naomi, no matter how hard I tried to make myself believe I was slowly falling for her or that I simply needed more time to realize that her beauty would "turn me." And I know it was wrong for me to do that. Taking advantage of anybody, including Naomi, is despicable and will always do more harm than good.

I've been living a lie for years, and I'm tired of it. 

Seventh grade was the first time I realized there was something different about me. A new kid came to my school named Aaron. At the time, I hadn't met Maya or Tommy, which left me friendless and alone. I'd eat lunch at an empty table and after school play video games by myself. I was miserable until Aaron arrived. He was my savior - the miracle that pulled me out from the melancholy I was drowning in.

Aaron was the best friend I could ever ask for. A hilarious guy with a goofy overbite and fiery orange hair that matched his gregarious and theatrical personality. His prized possession was a collection of toy airplanes - tokens of his dad's many business trips. Every time he flew home, Aaron's dad bought one as a return gift.

Shortly after we became friends, Aaron and I spent many days and nights in his family's amazing penthouse. His mom always cooked delicious dinners and treats for us while caring for his little brother.

For months, it was just Aaron and me. We played video games, auditioned for musicals, and traded comic books. At school, we chatted and played cards over lunch. It felt absolutely wonderful to finally have a friend of my own.

One night, when I was sleeping over at Aaron's penthouse, I realized why I enjoyed being around him so much.

We were watching Back to the Future, a childhood favorite of mine that Aaron had never seen before. I insisted we watch it and brought it over that night. Yet through the entire film, the only thing I could concentrate on was Aaron. The way his lips slightly curled when he smiled. The way he bundled up into a cocoon of blankets whenever he was cold. The way his orange hair stuck up like it was a mass of uncontrollable flames. He was so unique, and I felt lucky to call him mine.

About halfway through the movie, Aaron asked me a question, the words burning into my memory.

"Do you like me?"

"What do you mean?" I stuttered nervously, even though I knew exactly what he meant by like.

"I mean, do you like like me?"