by Dani Jansen
“This has been a nice visit and all, but I’ve got some pimple-popping videos I’ve got to get back to.” Annie ran her fingers across her trackpad to wake up her laptop.
I pushed myself off the bed and made my way back to my room. I dug my phone out of my jeans pocket. I needed to start somewhere. I scrolled through my contacts and pressed call. I paced my bedroom and waited to find out if I’d just be sent to voicemail.
“Hello.” I had never heard Jack’s voice sound so formal.
I stopped pacing, took a breath, and started. “Hi, Jack. It’s Alison.”
“I know.”
“Right. Of course. Caller ID.” I chuckled awkwardly to cover up the silence, then I forced myself to keep going. “I, uh, wanted to talk about what happened Friday.”
“No need.”
I could feel my resolve weaken. Jack obviously didn’t want to talk to me. But I knew I had to at least try to apologize. Even if he didn’t forgive me, even if it didn’t make things better, I still owed him an explanation. I took a deep breath. “Yes, need. I’m really sorry about Friday. I should have been more honest with you.”
“You don’t need to do this. I get it. You don’t like me.” Jack’s tone was clipped. “You could have just told me you didn’t want to go on a date with me. You didn’t have to bring Becca with you.”
“It’s not that I don’t like you!”
“Yeah? So then why did Becca come on our date?”
I chewed on my thumb. It was a fair question. “It’s hard to explain, Jack.”
“You’re the one who called me.”
“Right. You’re right.” I took another deep breath. “Jack, you’re one of my best friends.” I paused, gathering my thoughts.
“So you didn’t want to ruin our friendship?” Jack sounded hopeful, and I felt all the guiltier for misleading him. He was still willing to believe the best of me. He was hurt and angry, but he was still willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.
“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, but that isn’t exactly why I didn’t want to go on a date with you. I should have told you this a while ago, but it felt kinda awkward to bring up. And then I didn’t realize you’d asked me on a date, so that made it harder.”
“You didn’t realize that it was a date?” Jack asked. I was messing this up. I started pacing again.
“My sister had to tell me it was a date, but that isn’t the point,” I rushed on, then stopped. Why is this so hard?
After I’d been silent for a few seconds, Jack asked, “What is the point?”
“I’m gay,” I said. I slowed my pacing and tried to interpret the silence. Jack is open-minded, I reminded myself. He’s just surprised. It’s taking him a moment to digest what I’ve said, but I can trust him. I believed everything I was telling myself, but still felt nervous. I wondered if it would always be like this.
Finally, Jack said, “Oh.”
I rushed to say everything else I needed to tell him. “So it’s not that I don’t like you. It’s that I don’t like boys. At least, not in that way.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” He wasn’t being accusatory. He sounded almost…sad.
I tried to explain. “I haven’t told that many people. I don’t see why it’s anyone’s business.”
“Did you think I would judge you? Stop being your friend? I’m not that kind of person, Al.”
“I know!” I said, though I couldn’t help but think about how just a few moments before, I’d been nervous when I came out to him. I felt a little guilty that some part of me had been worried. My logical brain knew Jack was a good person, a good friend. Too bad my logical brain couldn’t always be in charge. “I just haven’t felt like making a big deal of it. I figured it would come up naturally. I didn’t know you liked me that way.” I looked out the window into the dark front yard.
“I think I get it,” Jack said.
“Yeah?” Maybe he could explain it to me.
“Yeah. You’re not out.”
“I’m out!” I felt defensive.
Jack was confused. “But you haven’t told anyone.”
“I’ve told Becca and my family.”
“Does that count as out?” Jack sounded like he was genuinely asking, and I wished that I had an answer for him, and more importantly, for me.
I was honest. “I don’t know. Why can’t it be?”
Jack chuckled softly. “Fair point. At least that explains Friday. Well, most of Friday. Becca seemed pretty angry. Was she in on the plan?”
I hung my head. “No.”
“Ah. So she’s…” Jack paused, waiting for me to fill in the blank.
“Not talking to me right now,” I admitted.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah. It’s my own fault. She’s next on my list of people I need to apologize to. Any tips for me? Ways to improve the service?”
“The honesty thing works. Maybe try to get to it faster.”
“Where were you with that advice last Thursday when I finally got that I’d agreed to go on a date with a dude?”
Jack laughed, and I felt relaxed enough to chuckle at my own joke. We hung up on good terms, and I hoped my practice tonight would help me with what I knew I had to do next.
CHAPTER 19
I tried to lean casually on the wall outside the drama room door, but I couldn’t get comfortable. For one thing, the concrete wall felt clammy on my skin. For another, I was the awkward person making, then quickly breaking, eye contact with everybody who walked by the room. I wanted to make sure I grabbed Becca before she went in for the production meeting, so I kept staring any time someone entered my peripheral vision. The tension and social pressure kept me pretty rigid, which also prevented me from looking the least bit casual. No wonder when I finally did see Becca coming down the hall, she stopped in her tracks for a moment. Everything about my stance must have screamed “uncomfortable social encounter this way!”
As Becca came nearer, I could see that her jaw was clenched and her heavy eyebrows were drawn together. When she was a good body-length away, she stopped, crossed her arms, and stared at a spot just to the left of my head. “Hi.”
“Becca, can we talk before the meeting?”
“About what?” She was still staring at the spot beside my head. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder, though some survival instinct had the hairs on the back of my neck on end. My limbic system was sure there was a predator over my left shoulder. For the sake of our friendship, I had to ignore the vampire that might be sneaking up behind me.
“I want to talk about Friday.”
“I’m only here because I promised to help with lights and programs. I don’t want to talk about Friday.”
“Then let me talk. Please, Becca. I’m so sorry. I should have told you Jack was going to be at the restaurant.” I took a step toward her, and she stepped back. It hurt to see her back away from me.
“I told you, I don’t want to talk about Friday. So can we go in?” Becca jerked her head at the drama room.
“Not until you hear me out.” I stood my ground.
Becca looked me in the eye. “You don’t get to make all the decisions, Al! I don’t want to talk. I’m not going to talk. I’ll find someone to do the lights and I’ll finish the program and then I’m done.” With that, Becca spun around and stalked off. I wanted to call after her, but I could feel tears burning at the corners of my eyes. If I tried to do anything more than breathe right now, I would cry. I did not want to cry at school. Annie poked her head out of the drama room at that moment and asked what was taking me so long. With an unsteady breath, I headed into the meeting.
The production team was crowded around Mr. Evans’s desk. Mr. Evans wasn’t planning to attend any of the minor production meetings, so his chair was empty, but no one wanted to sit down in it. This was not a gr
oup of people who would feel comfortable sitting in a teacher’s chair. Looking at them all gathered in one place, I could see what a rag-tag team I had managed to stitch together. Our costume designer, Zach, was almost a foot taller than anyone else. His thick wavy hair was styled in a funky pompadour, and his white, leather sneakers looked pristine. Jenny was just as pale, brooding, and pierced as ever. Annie looked a bit like a rainbow had thrown up on her, especially in contrast to Jenny’s monochromatic goth-look and Zach’s clean palette of blues and grays. This was my team, minus Becca of course. I couldn’t help but feel that Becca would have made the group look more normal.
I made my way over to them. “Hey. I think you all know each other, right?”
Nods from Annie and Zach. Silence from Jenny.
“So maybe we should start by sharing some ideas to see what people are thinking. I mean, we can’t have the costumes and set clashing. Or the props, for that matter. I’m no expert on color schemes, but clashing colors would look terrible and—”
Annie cut me off. “You’re rambling.”
I smiled to show I wasn’t ruffled by my sister’s bluntness. “Right. Um, why don’t you start, Zach?”
Zach spread some sketches on the desk and also brought up a series of photos on his phone. He explained that he’d been looking through the costumes left over from previous shows, the ones we had painstakingly dug out of the dusty storage room, and that some of them could be repurposed. Zach had also done some reconnaissance work at a local thrift store. Not only had he come up with a couple different concepts, he’d also priced out the options, and they were all affordable. I had lucked out with Zach.
I looked through his sketches and photos and paused when I reached his choice of shoes for the fairies. The dainty, strappy heels he’d picked looked like death traps to me. “Zach, are you sure the actors are going to be able to walk in these things?”
He took the photo from me. “They’re only two-inch heels.”
I had no idea what that meant. Was that a normal height for high heels? I looked at Annie for help, but she shrugged. We were sneaker gals, through and through. “But they’re so flimsy,” I tried. I felt on surer ground with this argument. The heels, though “only” two inches high, looked about as sturdy as twigs.
Zach said, “Wait here.” He left without any other explanation.
We couldn’t wait in uncomfortable silence, and I couldn’t handle Jenny just yet, so I asked Annie how she was doing with props. “Fine. Not much to do yet. Mr. Evans hasn’t decided on many of the props.” She paused and rolled her eyes theatrically. “Other than a ukulele. He keeps insisting Puck needs an electric-blue ukulele.”
Jenny snorted. “Good luck with that.”
Zach returned just before I had to ask Jenny how her plans were coming along. A pair of sparkly heels dangled from the fingers of his right hand. “Here you go!”
“Okay. Well, they still look kinda flimsy to me,” I said, confused.
“Put them on.” Zach held the shoes out to me. I took a step back, hands plastered to my sides so Zach couldn’t make me touch the terrifying things. Jenny laughed at that. A genuine laugh, not a sarcastic snort. When we all looked at her, she scowled even harder to make up for it.
I tried to refuse, but Zach insisted that I wouldn’t know how comfortable they were until I tried them on. I argued that I knew fire was hot without sticking my hand in it, but that did nothing to convince Zach. Realizing he wasn’t going to give up, I unlaced my canvas sneakers, slipped off my socks, and held onto his shoulder as I balanced precariously on each foot, fastening the ridiculous things to my feet.
“Now walk.”
“No thanks. I’m good like this.” My voice was embarrassingly high-pitched.
“You’ll be fine. I’ll walk with you.” I didn’t have a chance to argue because Zach started to walk. Unless I wanted to lose my balance, I had to go with him. The shoes didn’t pinch like I thought they might. And the heel, though slender, was a marvel of physics. Tiny as it was, it was holding up all 140 pounds of me. But I did not feel steady.
“Why are you bent over like that? You look like my bubbe after she’s had a few glasses of wine.” Zach tried to shake me off, but I wouldn’t let go. To appease him, I stood straighter. “Ow!” he complained. “You’re pinching my shoulder!” There was no pleasing some people.
Just then Annie laughed. I turned around and caught her pointing her phone in my direction. “You better not be taking a picture of me!” I warned her.
“I’m not.”
“Then why is your phone out?” I asked, trying to pick up a little speed so I could take the phone from her.
“I’m taking a video.” Annie grinned at me, looking just like the bratty baby sister who cut the hair off all my Barbies.
“That’s worse!” I let go of Zach’s shoulder so I could stretch out my arm to grab the phone. Big mistake. My right ankle rolled, and I tripped forward, barely catching myself on the edge of the desk. By the time I was standing straight again, Annie had hidden her phone.
I rubbed my ankle after returning the devil shoes to Zach. Despite my near-death experience, he was still insisting that the fairies would be fine in the shoes. “They’ll just need to practice walking in them at home. Plus, most girls have worn heels before.” He looked at me pointedly, and I was too ashamed to argue anymore, so I said if the fairies and Mr. Evans were fine with the shoes, then they were okay by me. Secretly, I hoped at least one of the fairies would sprain an ankle. Petty? Yes. But I didn’t want to be the only one who couldn’t handle a pair of shoes.
Costumes and props sorted, I had no choice but to speak to our set painter.
“So, Jenny, do you think Zach’s costumes will work with your designs?” Please let her like at least some of what he’s picked out, I begged the universe.
I guess the universe felt it owed me a little luck after the heels debacle, because Jenny seemed to be in a less-foul-than-usual mood. Without looking at any of us, she said, “I guess so. I’m going to add some jewel tones to my paintings, so the colors should work.” Miracle! Mr. Evans had managed to get Jenny to compromise.
“Great!” I sounded maybe a little too enthusiastic because Annie raised a knowing eyebrow in my direction. Before anything else could go wrong, I decided to call the meeting to an end. Jenny left without saying good-bye, and Annie waved as she rushed out to catch a ride with a friend. I waited as Zach gathered his drawings and the shoes. It felt rude to leave him, plus, I had to make sure we locked up.
I was wasting time on my phone when Zach asked, “Isn’t your friend also part of the production team? You know, the one with all the curls?”
I stopped scrolling but kept my eyes on the phone. “Oh. Uh, Becca had somewhere she had to be.”
I guess I didn’t sound as casual as I thought because Zach stopped zipping his messenger bag. “Lovers’ quarrel?”
I lowered my phone and shook my head. “Becca and I aren’t a couple.”
Zach’s eyes widened. “Wait. Are you gay?”
“Yes?”
“Is that a question?”
“No?”
Zach laughed. “Sounds like a question.”
I sighed. “It isn’t. Sorry. I’m just not any good at talking about this stuff.”
“Gay stuff or personal stuff?” Zach leaned against the desk, crossing his feet at the ankles.
I leaned against the desk beside him. It was easier to talk if I didn’t have to make eye contact. “Both.” I looked at my feet. “Becca and I had a fight. I’ve tried apologizing, but she doesn’t want to hear it. It’s totally my fault and I get why she’s mad, but I feel like crap, and I just want to make it up to her.”
Zach gently poked me with his elbow. “You’re sure you’re not a couple?”
“Just friends. But that doesn’t seem to make this any easier.”
“Don’t be so sure. Sex makes everything more complicated.” Zach rubbed his forehead.
I got the feeling we weren’t talking about me anymore. “Boy troubles?”
“Closeted boyfriend troubles.”
“Oh.”
“Oh is right. You can do the whole ‘out and proud’ thing, but if your boyfriend is closeted, then so are you…you know?” Zach turned to look at me. I wanted to say I understood, but the truth was that I didn’t. I didn’t have a girlfriend, closeted or otherwise. But I didn’t want to get into that now, so I just nodded and sat with him in companionable silence for a couple minutes. Eventually Zach shook it off and finished packing away his things.
We walked out of the drama room together. I stopped to check that the door was locked and waved good-bye to Zach. It was nice to have someone to talk to about gay stuff. Not that Becca and my parents (and even Annie, in her own way) didn’t try to understand, but there was something different about talking to someone who knew what it was like to grapple with the different levels of out. It felt like I was less alone in a way.
CHAPTER 20
“Alison, can I have a word with you?” Ms. Merriam asked as she erased the whiteboard. It was the end of the school day, and I wasn’t exactly looking forward to lining up for the bus. I decided on the spot that I would wait for the late bus since it would at least be less crowded.
When Ms. Merriam finished cleaning the whiteboard, she came and sat down at the table next to me. She angled her chair so she could look at me, then leaned forward, concern in her eyes. “Alison, you seem a bit distracted lately. Is everything okay?”
“Just busy,” I lied.
“That’s all? Because I have to say I was surprised today when you said that the storm scene in King Lear is an example of pathetic phallus instead of pathetic fallacy.” Ms. Merriam looked away as she said this, giving me a moment to wallow in shame for the mistake I’d made so publicly.