When With You

12

Whispers go through the hallway like the early mist passes through an opened window, I can't help but think that I've made the news as if there's an article about me and everyone wanted to know why and what.

It's been two weeks since Peter and I kissed, so far all we do is work in the library during our shared free period to discuss the project, Divine joins us and it's sickening. Maybe Peter finally opened his big mouth to one of his buddies and now everyone knows.

I close my locker and play with my bag strap in order to distract myself from the mumble of words I can't hear. Maybe it's not even about me, I'm not the most interesting thing going on right now. For example, Morgan and her girlfriend, Harley, are happily showing off their new love, they were discharged yesterday and thought it would be a good idea not to skip town but instead came to school.

Thinking about it now, they are actually the reason for all the hushed words. I watch like a hawk at the newly open couple, their hands intertwined and their laughs are the loudest compared to all the quiet whispers.

They are so cute.

Morgan's family were the only people naturally red-haired, though hers wasn't really as red. Her mom and dad had hair as red as the passion they had for their bakery, her sibling too. But Morgan is ginger, she just dyed her hair even more just so it looks like her family's. I found this out when I went to the next town over and saw her two years ago. I didn't tell anyone because I knew she took pride in her hair even if it was fake, and not only was it not my business but I didn't have anyone to tell. From all the times we've talked--well, she did most of the talking-- I've learned that she was very down to earth, open-minded, and charmingly cheerful. I liked her enough not be put her in my book of "Fucking Murder Them Because They Are Shit On Earth. "

Harley on the other hand, I only knew her because she used to be best friends with Madison. She didn't even talk to me but during her and my brother's conversions, I noticed that she was bold and fearless but her voice didn't show those. Her voice was silvery and soft when I heard it the first time I thought her personality would be soft and shy, but Harley wasn't. I've heard from Madison that Harley had a rough childhood, an abusive father and an absent mother, now she lives with her aunt and dyed half of her hair purple. Her hair used to be the prettiest of chestnut brown, I guess it reminded her too much of her father, who is in prison for child abuse and rape (of both Harley and her aunt), and she dyed it to match her personality-- sentimental, bold and honest, a dark purple mixing with chestnut.

I envy them. They knew the risk of being out like this yet they don't care, they both walk freely and happily through the halls as they own it. No fear or shame. Now, why can't I have that? What is stopping me from being happy here?

Morgan and Harley pass me by as they walk towards their next class, they stare at me before they smile and wave. Morgan's aquamarine eyes dazzle with passionate peace, and Harley's wide chartreuse eyes sparkled with childlike innocence. They make me wanna rip open my shirt and scream out that I was gay. They make me want to be proud of myself.

But the disgusted looks that were being thrown at them is what always stops me.

A boy with silver hair, Dylan Jacob, shoves his shoulder against Harley's. He smirks, "Watch it, fags," and walks away. I'm shocked that Harley didn't strangle him,

I stick my foot out while whistling, and Dylan trips over it. His head hitting the concrete floor with a thud, a sweet sound of revenge.

Before leaving for the library, I kick his exposed stomach for good measure. To anyone else, it would have looked like a hideous crime on an innocent soul, but to me and the proud girls, it was an act of protection towards my community. I didn't need to be out to be valid, or to protect queers.