Chapter Text
“Hey, Pencil Mark!”
A hand slapped me on the back, almost making me spit out my milk. After carefully setting the miniature milk carton back on my lunch tray, I turned around.
“Hey, Sammm…dwich?”
Sam took her hand off my back and sat next to me. She placed her lunchbox on the table, tied her hair up in a ponytail, then looked at me with an amused expression.
“Samdwich? Really?”
“Hey, Pencil Mark is just as bad and you know it.”
“Alright, fair enough. What’ve you been up to?”
“Same old, same old. You?”
“Mmmmm…”
She stretched, then continued.
“Played tennis at the rec center, lost terribly, then studied. C’mon, give me a real answer for once. What did you do yesterday?”
“Uhh… Well…”
I sure as hell was not going to tell her that I spent two hours fantasizing about… things.
“Studying… mostly?”
“Fine, don’t tell me. You can just be Mark Smith, Man of Mystery.”
I tried not to let it show on my face how much that comment bothered me. It seemed like she didn’t notice, but I couldn’t be sure. Sam could be oddly perceptive, sometimes.
She steepled her fingers and leaned forward to where I couldn’t see her face.
“Well, anyways… I have something to tell you later. Could you come to the usual spot at around 8 tonight?”
8 was well after my classes ended, but not so late that I would lose sleep. From what I remembered, though, Sam would ordinarily go to bed at around 8:30. Odd, but I had no reason to refuse.
“Sure.”
With that, she leaned back to a normal sitting position. I caught a glimpse of a relieved smile on her face, then her expression returned to a neutral one.
“Sweet,” she said, opening her lunchbox and taking out her lunch.
***
Strangely, I was nervous.
It was just Sam. I mean, we’d met plenty of times at our spot. We had hung out lots of times in other places, too. And every time, we had fun, fooling around and generally doing what friends do.
Today, though, it felt different.
Maybe it was that smile after she asked, or the odd, almost awkward way she brought it up.
I shook my head to clear away those thoughts and checked the time.
7:50 PM.
Still a little bit too early to head out, but not enough time to properly do anything.
I looked in the mirror, checking myself one last time. An oversized gray hoodie that obscured my figure somewhat. A pair of women’s jeans that were ambiguous enough to pass off as men’s jeans. Thigh high socks obscured by my pants and hiking boots.
I looked at the clock again.
7:52 PM.
I looked at my hair in the mirror. It wasn’t long enough to do anything fancy with, but it was long enough that I had to actively try to keep it in line. I brushed my hair again in an attempt to convince it to behave.
No dice. It sprang back to how it was before.
One last look at the time.
7:54 PM.
It would have to do.
***
As I walked alone through the orchard, I thought of the past.
I met Sam in the ninth grade, about 6 years ago now.
She had the exact same class schedule as me that year. I recalled how, at first, she had come across as standoffish, almost rude, in all of her introductions.
When the teachers shared scores, hers were always near the very bottom, in every single class.
But when we were assigned to work on a group project together, she took it surprisingly seriously. She did her part of it so well, I had a hard time believing she wasn’t at the top of the class. When I asked, her only answer was, “Well, I can’t have you failing because of me.”
After that, we became friends. We ate lunch together, hung out together, and were generally almost inseparable.
Well, until she got a girlfriend.
Then, we began to drift apart. I saw her less and less. I was happy for her, but it still hurt on some level to watch her go.
A year later, in our senior year of high school, I got a call from her.
It was 2 AM, on a Saturday.
She was crying. I had never heard her cry before, and it was a sound that almost broke my heart to hear.
I almost couldn’t make out what she was saying, but eventually I got the message. I got dressed, got in my car, and drove to the park, all while on the phone.
At the park, I found her. She was sitting under a tree, curled up in a ball. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes.
And then she stood up. She wiped her tears away and walked past me to my car.
The entire drive to her house, she was silent. She just stared out the window, her head propped up on her hand.
Once we arrived, she began to get out, then paused.
In a quiet, somewhat raspy voice, she said, “Thank you. …See you on Monday.”
And that was that.
On Monday, she returned to eating lunch with me, refusing to elaborate on the events of that night other than simply saying, “She broke up with me.”
She hadn’t dated anyone since, as far as I knew.
A soft crunch brought me back to the present.
The trees thinned out here, and a thin layer of snow remained on the ground, in spite of it being early spring. The blossoms on the trees, the snow on the ground, and the bright stars in the sky all contributed to a strange, almost otherworldly feeling, like I was the only person on Earth.
As I crunched along, though, that illusion was soon dispelled, replaced by another. Coming into view of the spot that belonged only to Sam and I, I stopped walking. I was struck by a wish to freeze this moment in time.
Standing in the clearing was Samantha, facing away from me, illuminated by only the stars and the moon. Her auburn hair, tied up in a ponytail as always, swayed in the breeze. Although she wore a simple outfit of yoga pants, a white jacket, and boots, she appeared to almost sparkle in the moonlight.
Then, she turned around, and I could move once more. As I approached, she gave a small wave that looked almost… cute.
I… No. I couldn’t be thinking about her this way. I blinked a few times, then jogged the rest of the way to her.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she replied, a slight smirk on her face.
“I’m not too late, I hope?”
She checked her watch, then shook her head.
“Right on time. You always are.”
I smiled at that comment.
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
A faint blush appeared on her face, and she turned away, clasping her hands behind her back. She took a few steps, then spoke.
“Well, I don’t really know how to say this. …You know that I’m a lesbian, right?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, that’s what I thought, too, until… I mean, there’s an exception and… Argh, I’m doing this all wrong.”
She took a deep breath, then turned around and spoke again.
“What I’m trying to say is: I like you. Will you go out with me?”
The entire time she spoke, her face was bright red, and she maintained eye contact until she finished. She then quickly looked away.
I was… well, to say I was taken by surprise would probably be an understatement.
And although I wanted to say yes, I wanted it almost desperately, I couldn’t.
“I… Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Of course,” she said, turning back around to face away from me. “Take all the time you need.”
Her voice wavered slightly, but her tone was hopeful.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and walked away.
***
Upon returning to my apartment and closing the door, I sank to the floor and hugged my knees.
What had I done?
I…
I…
I had to tell her.
Running a hand along my chin, I came across a small rough patch. After a quick shave, it was smooth once more.
I would tell her… right after I showered.
After my shower, I picked up the phone.
And noticed that my nails were uneven.
I trimmed and filed my fingernails and toenails, then returned to looking at my phone.
9:32 PM.
Well, it was late and she’d probably already gone to bed, right? No use in doing it tonight, I might as well-
No.
I was putting it off and I knew it. All I had to do was send a text, and that would be it.
I picked up the phone again, and typed in a message to Sam.
“I’m a girl.”
***
Three days later, we were sitting on the couch in my apartment. We were wrapped up in blankets, cocooned in our own little world. Her arms were around me, and I was simply relaxing against her while she held me.
“Hey, Emma.”
“Mm?”
“Are you really… okay with me?”
“Of course.”
I wrapped my arms around Sam in return. I hadn’t said those three words yet, but already, I felt them in my heart.
And now, she would know it.
“I love you.”
She stilled for a moment.
“I love you, too.”
She squeezed me tightly.
And I was content.