Autumn Leaves and Teenage Dreams

14. Confessions

It was autumn of last year that I first met Isabella Sandoval. She had been at the school since freshman year, but I had never known her directly. I recognized her face and her silky dark hair, sure, but I could not a put a voice to that face, nor did I know anything about her. I only knew of her. Call it fate, or rather the magic of class scheduling that semester, but she ended up in my Chemistry class. The first day of class, it was raining. She held out her hand, and I grabbed hold of it and shook it as we introduced ourselves to each other.

Juliet had been in another class of mine freshman year, and so, finding her in my Chemistry class was a relief. We got along well in class, and though I did not know Isabella well by that point, she sat across from me and appeared smart and likable. And when the time came for us to form groups in class in early October, somehow or other, Juliet, Isabella, and me found ourselves in one.

While Juliet and I would hang out outside our Chemistry group, I did not make that time for Isabella, as I did not know her well enough. We were friendly in class, and on Mondays, we would catch up on our weekends. The three of us worked diligently on our labs, but we still found time to laugh through it all. As someone who never found herself getting along well in groups of others, I was lucky to have a hardworking and supportive group for the first time in my life.

It was January suddenly. The air was cold, and snow and ice covered the sidewalks on my morning and afternoon walks to and from school. Something had changed over me during Christmas break, but I could not quite pinpoint what. It was a desire of sorts, some type of need to be closer to Isabella. Finding her posting pictures on her Instagram over break with friends stirred a strange type of jealousy in me, but also a desire to see her.

Oh, I get it, I had told myself at the time. I want to be friends with her. After all, that was all there was to be done at an all-girls school. There was an innate sense in every student at that school to be better friends with certain people. It was no strange feeling to want to get to know someone better, so I thought nothing of it at the time.

As the cold days of winter carried on, I realized that what I wanted was something deeper than friendship, yet I could never quite figure out what exactly that was, or even what exactly I wanted from Isabella in the first place. There was just some part of my mind and my body that wanted to forge a deeper connection with her like no other. I wanted to hang out with her outside of class like Juliet, but not in the same sense.

Classes became more awkward as I found myself flustered over the dark-haired girl sitting across for me for no reason at all, really. When I left class and walked home, I would criticize myself over it. Why was paying attention in class so difficult when I had been working with Isabella for months already? Why did I find it so hard to maintain eye contact with those dark brown eyes of hers? A part of me almost wanted to tell my friends my dilemma, but for some reason, I held back, because I was not quite sure if any of them had ever gone through the same emotions as myself, and I was afraid of embarrassing myself.

The dream happened in March. And to this day, I still cannot remember it quite well. It is a bit fuzzy in my mind, but I think it was a slap in the head from my subconscious to truly wake me up to what I was feeling. I woke up early in the morning, just as the sun was rising, lethargic and sweating. I do not remember much from the dream, as I said, except for the brush of Isabella's lips against mine. I was confused when I woke up, disgusted even, but I simply brushed it off, as I'd had much weirder dreams.

But even then I knew what it meant.

A phase. That's what I had decided to label it. I defined this emotion, this desire, at the time as simply a friendship that I wanted with Isabella. I reasoned that since she was a bit more introverted and sometimes intimidating, it would be difficult for myself to make friends with her, and that was why the connection I felt toward her was so strong. Still, there was a fear lingering inside me that I was different and disgusting in a sense, and that my friends and certainly Isabella would keep their distance from me if they knew the truth.

The summer months, always a time for fleeting feelings and warm days, I figured, would end these emotions. Then, August of my junior year, I saw Isabella's dark hair again in the hallways, and I realized the distance had not done its work. That was why I had grown happy to have Aurora distracting me. If only I wasn't such a dumbass.

These are the memories and the emotions I think about as Aurora drives me home. She doesn't question my silence, though I can tell she is confused by it. After such a fun night, I'm sure she expects a nice conversation on the drive home, but instead, I stare out the window, looking at the Christmas lights, and I sulk to myself. I'm angry. Not at her. But at myself.

"Are you okay?" Aurora asks. We've just neared the neighborhood, marking the end of our night together.

"Just tired," I lie.

She pulls up in front of my house. "Well, I had fun tonight. Good luck on finals. You'll do great. I know it."

I smile weakly. "Thanks. I had fun too. See you next week." I awkwardly exit the car and make my way to the door. The snow is falling more rapidly now, and the air has grown even colder. It takes me a few seconds to fumble around with my keys and unlock the door. Maybe Aurora watching me from her car makes me take longer than normal opening the door.

I step inside, breathing in relief to hear the wheels of Aurora's car turning away. My family is watching a Christmas movie downstairs, and the faint scent of dinner (chicken, I can tell), still floods the kitchen.

"How was it?" my mom asks as she turns her body.

"Fun," I say in a more monotone manner than I expected to.

"There's leftovers if you want any," she offers.

"I ate there," I murmur before slowly slinking upstairs to my room. I shut the door and immediately collapse onto my bed. The tears flow quicker than I expect them to. I pray none of my family walks in to check on me.

I blow my nose and stare up at the ceiling. I don't want to feel this way. I shouldn't be upset, but I am. Because I can't ignore this feeling inside me anymore. For years it's been eating me up, and now I know that I have to acknowledge it. I have to. Two girls within a year. The last time I checked, having crushes on two girls in a year doesn't technically qualify someone as straight.

I know I'm gay. Of course I know. I've known probably since last year, when my feelings toward Isabella began to emerge. For some reason, it was easier to brush it off when it was just one girl I had a crush on. But now that I know I like Aurora, I can't go without acknowledging the fact anymore.

Because now, everything up to this point is making sense. I thought I was mature as a child. While all the girls spoke of boys, especially when middle school rolled around, I only rolled my eyes and told myself that I was waiting for the right person. That's what I told myself in high school, too. Even though my crushes on boys have been far and few in between. Even when the crushes I've had on girls in the past year alone have made me felt more than any crush I've had on a boy.

I did try to like boys. I really did, especially my freshman year, when everyone was on the hunt for a boyfriend. I took all the right steps. I went to football games. I talked to a few boys at dances. Hell, I even took Colton to Homecoming this year, and I thought before I left to pick him up, what if I did just give him a chance? What if I did end up in a relationship with him? But of course, I felt no spark, just as I've felt no spark with any boy I've talked to in the past three years, even if they've liked me.

I bury my head in my pillow. I don't know why I'm so upset. I should feel relieved, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, knowing this now. But instead, I just think of the difficulties ahead. I think of the day, far in the future, when I'll have to tell my family this, with my mother's slightly homophobic comments and my siblings' immaturity. Because while I have nothing wrong with the LGBTQ+ community, I never felt like it was my community to begin with. And right now, I feel I can't even support myself. Even if I know...I'd be happier.

Exhausted from a long night, I throw some pajamas on and shut the lights off. I don't know how I'm going to face Aurora on Monday morning, but right now, I'd rather not think about it.