Autumn Leaves and Teenage Dreams

43. What is Love?

If I were in this situation a few months ago, I would turn my nose. But today I'm in a good mood and more forgiving than normal, and also so incredibly lonely. 

Looking at Aurora, I slowly nod my head and pack my things up before I head out the door onto the patio.

Sometimes, at night, I've dreamt of us reuniting, where I'm running to her, asking for her to forgive me. She kisses me, we make up, and then I wake up in my bed, remembering that reality will never be true.

Today feels different. I don't rush to Aurora. Rather, I awkwardly make my way to her, utterly confused, but also so utterly happy that I don't know much of what to say.

"I thought you were at school," is all I manage to get out.

"I just got out of classes," she admits. "I was going to head to your house, but I figured I'd stop here first, and—well, nevermind. Um, can we head to the park? I want to talk to you."

"Okay," I say without another thought.

The walk to the park is strange and foreign. Our walks home together used to feel so comforting and lively, but I sense a strange distance between us. Neither of us has much to say to each other, but I'm guessing that Aurora probably wants to wait until we're at the park to properly talk. We both seem to walk a little faster just to get there sooner.

The clouds are starting to roll over, meaning that the kids and their parents have all headed home for fear of a coming rainstorm. I take a seat on an empty swing and push myself back and forth just slightly, watching as my feet barely touch the bark below me while Aurora stands in front of me. I can't figure out her expression. Whether she's embarrassed, flustered, upset, or just cold, it's hard to tell.

"I came out," she says.

"I know," I reply, not sure what else to say.

"It was hard," Aurora continues. "It was harder than I thought it would be."

"Why did you do it? And...why are you here? You should be out of state, at a private college. That's what you wanted, right?" I ask.

"I go to the community college. I didn't feel quite ready to leave yet. I still had some things to do," Aurora admits to me.

"I never saw you all summer. I used to walk Fry by your house, but I never saw you..."

"I worked a lot," Aurora says. "At a bookstore the next town over. I didn't want to risk running into you. But I did see you when you walked him...sometimes. I'd just peek the curtain open slightly. You never seemed to notice."

"Oh," I realize, blushing some. That was news to me, and now I suddenly feel a bit like a stalker. "But I don't understand," I continue. "You had fantastic grades. Did you not get into the colleges you wanted to?"

"I did. But like I said, I decided it wasn't right for me to leave yet," Aurora says. Her arms are close together, her fingers intertwined, and I can tell this conversation is hard for her. It's difficult and awkward for me too. It's hard for us to try to converse like normal when we haven't spoken to each other in so long.

"I'm sorry," Aurora says quietly, like a whisper in the wind, but loud enough for me to hear it.

"What are you apologizing for? I should be—"

"Callie, stop. You don't need to apologize," Aurora says before I can continue. "Coming out was hard. I told my parents first. They were really shocked, and I cried for a few days about it, but they came to understand that it didn't matter. I was still their daughter deep down. I was really grateful that my friends were completely understanding. They were a bit surprised, but they never looked at me differently. I know you didn't get those same experiences. I know you had it worse, and yet, it was still so hard. My hand was shaking so hard when I posted on Instagram. I almost deleted it as soon as I posted it."