I snorted. “Whose parents should we tell first? Yours or mine?”
We grinned because we knew it was pretend, but the idea was exciting anyway.
Chapter 18
The Christmas tree sparkled from outside Liv’s front window. It was Christmas Eve but Liv had been sick with the flu for days and so I hadn’t given her the gift I’d gotten her yet. I was shocked my parents had agreed to let me see her today, and had even offered a ride. I pretended they knew about us and were being supportive. Now that would be a hell of a Christmas miracle.
Our family tradition was to spend Christmas Eve at a special church service where they light candles and listen to songs from the choir. It was beautiful and one of the parts of church I actually liked – even if I did still wonder if God would smite me one of these days.
Liv had been chained to the kitchen with her mom all day, baking desserts for their family party tomorrow. All four of her mother’s sisters were flying in with their families later tonight. My extended family wasn’t nearly as big so we didn’t start our cooking until tomorrow afternoon. Usually, we went to my grandma’s an hour north with a side dish and a cheesecake. My grandma still insisted on cooking most of the food, and my aunts and uncles fell in line. Ben and I would die slowly of boredom because our cousins were either ten years older or ten years younger. He’d play on his DS and I’d play on my phone. But it was tradition and even though it bored me, there was comfort there
When I opened the door to Liv’s house, the smell of cookies assaulted me, making my stomach growl. Liv rushed to the doorway, smiling, wearing an apron decorated with elves. It looked so comical on her, I pointed and laughed.
She untied it and dropped it onto the couch. “Don’t make fun of my apron. I’ve had it since I was five.”
“It’s adorable.”
“Shut up.” She grabbed my hand and started to tug me upstairs. In the hallway, we passed her dad, who grumbled something about hurrying to help her mom.
Liv looked at me. “Ignore him. He’s being a Scrooge.” With a yell down the hallway, she added, “Why don’t you help if you’re so concerned? You can even borrow my apron.”
Her dad grunted and we both giggled.
In the safety of her bedroom, I held out the wrapped package I’d brought. Grinning, she put up a finger then turned to her closet and rustled through it.
A moment later, she spun back around, holding a small box with a big red ribbon. My package was bigger but a mess of bulges and tape because I didn’t have the patience to do it right. Not like my mom, who could wrap a basketball and make it look perfect and gorgeous.
“Here,” I said. “Open mine first.”
“Okay.” She took the box from my hand. “It’s heavy!”
“I hope you like it. I didn’t really know what to get you.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it just because it’s from you.” She ripped the paper off to reveal a 300 power compact refractor telescope. “Whoa!”
I shrugged, blushing. “I don’t know much about it but the guy at the store said it was one of the best for my budget.” I’d drained my allowance fund to buy it for her. She had a piddly little thing now and I wanted her to have something nice to study the stars with.
“It’s perfect!” she gushed. “I love it!” Then she grabbed me in a one-armed hug and whispered in my ear. “Thank you so much. I love you.”
After she let me go, she bounced on her toes. “Now open mine!”
“Okay.” I tore into the paper. The box resembled something that held jewelry and I briefly wondered if she’d gotten me a promise ring. Around here, a promise ring meant you were promising the person you were with that you’d abstain from sex until marriage. It was laughable for us because not only did Liv not believe in that, but it wasn’t like either of us were getting each other pregnant.
I lifted the lid, curiosity driving me, then grinned. Inside, sat a silver bracelet with a little star dangling from the chain. My eyes welled up. A star. I was taken back to sitting on the roof, blanket wrapped around us, looking at the stars, giddy and drunk on new love.
Sniffling, I pulled it out of the box.
“Do you like it?” She chewed on her lip. “If it’s not your style I can take it back. It’s not a big deal.”
“No!” I clasped it in my hand like I was saving it from her. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”
She smiled and the room seemed to brighten. “Want me to put it on you?”
“Yes!” I placed it in her hand and she clasped the ends together. “It fits perfectly.”
“That was a lucky guess.” She laughed. “Come on. Let’s set up the telescope and see how it works.”
I checked the clock. My dad said he’d be back in an hour. I’d wanted to curl up together and celebrate the holiday romantically, but I couldn’t resist her beaming smile.
“Okay, but I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Liv was already shaking it out of the box. Pieces fell onto the bed – screws and the view thingy, and other parts I didn’t recognize. I wished I’d had my dad put it together first. “Uh, do you think your dad will help?”
“Have a little faith, girly. We don’t need a man to put this together.”
I snorted.
She smirked at me. “I’m man enough.”
Laughing, I helped her sort out the pieces. Then we both stared. I looked at her and she looked at the bed, furrowing her brow.
“Hmm.”
“What now?”
She picked up the long tubey thing and assessed it. Trying to be helpful, I picked up the slightly smaller one and said, “I think this goes inside it.”
“No. That attaches later on. We need to find the screws for the stand first.”
“Um.” I tried handing her a few but she shook her head each time. Acknowledging that I sucked at this, I crawled onto the other side of the bed and leaned against the wall, tucking my feet underneath me.
She didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t helping anymore so I didn’t feel guilty. I was probably only getting in the way anyway.
As Liv studied each piece, I studied her – the way her forehead crinkled when she concentrated, her long fingers that manipulated each piece with precision while still managing to look graceful, and the way her lips pursed as if she were locking in an important secret.
I still couldn’t believe she loved me. She loved me with abandon with no promises for the future. Despite my faults and insecurities, she loved me. My heart felt like bursting from all the emotion swelling it. I couldn’t hold back the urge to touch her anymore.
“Liv,” I half-whined, dragging her name out.
“Huh?” She looked as though she’d forgotten I was there. “Oh. Sorry. I’m ignoring you.” With an apologetic smile, she pushed the remaining pieces aside and climbed onto the bed next to me. “I just got carried away.”
“It’s okay. I only have twenty minutes left though and I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” She leaned in, her lips hovering over mine.
Before I succumbed to her spell, I said, “Wait. You’re not contagious, are you?”
“No.”
“Okay. Because my parents would kill me if I was sick for Christmas.”
Laughing, she backed away and said, “Yeah, then they’d know we made out too.”
“Ugh. Don’t even go there.”
“Mmm,” she purred and kissed her way down my neck. “I wish I could spend the whole day with you tomorrow.”
I gulped when her lips moved across my throat. “Me too.”
She exhaled and the warmth of her breath sent a shiver through me. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her the past few days until she was here in my arms, smelling like soap and love.
If she were a boy, no one would bat an eye if I brought her to our family party tomorrow night. But who had their best friend over for Christmas dinner? Maybe if she didn’t have family to be with, but my parents already knew she did. Just another way life wasn’t fai
r for us. Until bringing a girlfriend to dinner was as easy as bringing a boyfriend, we haven’t attained equality. Seemed like a long way to go still.
My thoughts made me sigh and Liv frowned up at me. “What’s wrong, girly?”
I shrugged.
“I know that look.” She pulled herself upright. “You’re thinking too much.”
She knew me too well.
“Don’t think,” she whispered, cupping my chin in her hand. “Kiss me instead.”
I was helpless not to.
Chapter 19
“Seriously, who goes skiing in Indiana?” Liv said, scrunching her nose.
We stood in the church foyer, looking over the dozens of suitcases and duffel bags littering floor. Christmas had come and gone. Blankets of snow covered lawns now, and we’d had two school closings in January from storms. The boys who liked snowboarding were pumped up for the trip, hollering and high-fiving each other in the lobby. Though I hadn’t been looking forward to it, at least I had Liv, which made it infinitely better than going alone.
“Weirdos, that’s who,” I answered. “It’s tradition. Camping in the summer. Skiing in the winter.”
“It can’t be very good skiing. There are no mountains in this goddamn state.” She whispered the last part.
“It’s more of a...slight incline.”
“Great.” She sighed. “Should we check in?”
“I guess.” I stepped up to the registration desk.
“Hi Audrey!” Pastor Dan’s wife smiled at me. Then she looked at Liv. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she turned on her classic welcoming face and said, “Is this your friend?”
“Yeah. This is Liv.”
“Nice to meet you, Liv.” She held out her hand and Liv shook it. “I’m Becca. It’s wonderful to have you with us this weekend!” Like her husband, Becca looked like she shopped in the teen stores in the mall, but after having given birth to several babies, the clothes fit oddly and her mousy brown bob wasn’t current enough to pass for young and hip.
“Uh. Thanks?” Liv cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow, as if the pleasantry had caught her off guard.
Becca clapped her hands together. “Are you two ready to do some skiing and some praising the Lord?”
Liv took a step back but I interlocked our arms (which straight friends totally did) to keep her from running away.
“Yup. We’re ready.” I gave Becca a shaky smile. “Um, we’ll go put our stuff on the pile.”
“Awesome!” As I steered Liv away from Becca’s enthusiasm, she shouted, “Can’t wait to get to know you better, Liv!”
Once we were out of earshot, Liv hissed, “Skiing for Jesus?”
I shrugged.
“This is creepy. I don’t want Miss Perky getting to know me any better.”
Discreetly, I pinched her side. “Stop it. They’re nice people. They don’t mean any harm. They just don’t know how weird they sound to other people.”
“Someone should tell them,” she muttered.
We threw our bags in with the rest. Liv eyed the ski equipment and looked back at me. “We’re not actually skiing, right? Because I promised to come here with you, not to ski. Just to keep you company and make out when no one’s looking.”
Crap. She was going to be a menace. I peered around us, checking for anyone who might’ve overheard her. “Will you shut up?”
She grinned.
“It’s not funny.”
“Relax. Nobody heard us.”
“And no, we’re not skiing. But if you try to get me in trouble, I will push you down the mountain.”
At that, she laughed.
We stood awkwardly in the foyer, watching the adult volunteers buzz around the teenagers, gathering their things or goofing around with them. That was part of building rapport. If they pretended to be “one of us” then maybe we’d believe their rhetoric. Unfortunately, that never worked on me. I was too quiet for them to notice. Most of the volunteers were college aged and hung out with the more outgoing kids. They were easier to relate to, easier to get to know. The ones like me – the wallflowers who hid in the bathroom and didn’t ask questions – were overlooked.
Liv leaned in and spoke in my ear, “I can’t believe I’m standing in church talking about making out and lightning hasn’t struck me down.”
I snorted. “Yeah. How do you think I feel, forced to come here every week?”
“Well,” she sighed. “I suppose we have plenty of time this weekend for God to smite us.”
Those were the types of thoughts circulating in my mind almost constantly where church was involved. When would the punishment begin?
Maybe the fact that God had been silent meant He didn’t find our relationship wrong. Or maybe He didn’t care. I mean, surely there were better things to worry about than two high school girls in love? War, famine, the AIDS epidemic, homelessness, serial killers, etc. Who were we to compete with that?
Oddly, there was some relief in that thought. If it wasn’t a big enough deal for God to notice, why should anyone else care or say it was wrong?
“So don’t you have any friends here?” Liv asked.
“Just Gabby but she’s away with her parents. The rest of the girls are snotty. And the boys ignore me.”
“I don’t know how. You’re hot.” She winked.
“Shh!” I scolded but chuckled anyway.
The two hour long rented bus ride consisted of listening to Christian songs on the radio with Becca and Pastor Dan trying to rouse everyone to sing along. Most of the teenagers grumbled, but a few devout girls put their hands in the air and sang.
Liv sat stiffly in her seat. Her eyes stayed wide in a look of fear and I thought she might have a panic attack.
“Relax,” I told her, rubbing my hand up and down her arm. “They aren’t monsters.”
She turned on me. “I know you think they’re harmless but it’s not true. Even if they say they disapprove but that they still love you, it’s fake.”
When I looked at her, baffled, she continued. “Like... ‘Jesus says I have to love you even though I think there’s something wrong with you.’ Does that feel like real love?”
“Well...”
“‘I accept you as a fellow human being but you’re going to hell so good luck with that. I’ll pray for you on your way down.’” She shook her head. “There’s no real acceptance. No real respect. How can there be when they don’t like a big part of your identity? They don’t like who we are, Aud. And being vocally against gay rights is being against us. Not just our rights, but us as people. They’re rejecting the very way God made us, if there even is a God.”
She had a point. But she didn’t understand how church worked, how much they got into your brain when you grew up that way. “Yeah but they don’t know that.”
“That makes them ignorant. Not innocent.”
I shrugged. I couldn’t agree there because it’d been me, not so long ago. Blaming them for hurting people unknowingly would’ve meant incriminating myself. But I was innocent, wasn’t I?
I thought back to before Liv. I hadn’t believed everything I’d been told but I hadn’t really questioned it either. Was it naivety or laziness? I had to admit it’d been easier to just go along with what my parents told me rather than to think, to fight through it, to analyze and form my own opinion. But that was what we were told to do – to trust and follow blindly.
If we questioned, we were told we didn’t have enough faith. Now I wondered how much of that was about power. But Pastor Dan was probably just repeating what his parents had told him. I doubted he was plotting evil plans in his office while stroking his mustache and laughing maniacally.
A picture of sheep baaing and following each other, one after another, off the edge of a cliff came to mind. Was that what I was? A mindless sheep?
Then Liv came along – a wolf who’d picked me out of the herd and dragged me away from the cliff. But when you step away from the herd, you lose all sen
se of safety. From one danger to another.
I thought of my parents – of their faces if I told them I wanted to go to prom with a girl. Maybe they could control parts of my life now, while I was a minor, but what about when I turned into an adult? What if I wanted to marry Liv someday? Would they protest the wedding? Would they come to be supportive but cry that their dreams for their daughter were being dashed? Could I do that to them? Was it fair to drag them out of their bubble and into a political war zone with me?
It wasn’t fair that Liv hadn’t been born without the ability to lead a normal, heterosexual life. It wasn’t fair I was born able to fall in love with a woman either. Why should they be immune to the unfairness of life? No one else was. A select few had it easy, but the rest of us suffered – even in idyllic Freedom, Indiana.
It made me wonder if we’d been in hell all along.
But the way Liv made me feel could only be described as a glimpse of heaven. I guessed that ruled that theory out. I didn’t know much, but falling in love in hell seemed unlikely.
So we had flawed lives in a flawed world and centuries old documents of passed down oral history to guide our lives by. And hope. Hope there was something better after high school. Hope there was something better after we died.
It wasn’t much to go on. Why did people cling to it so tightly?
“It’s all about fear,” Liv said.
I turned to her, wondering if she’d read my mind.
“People fear what they don’t know,” she explained.
She was still talking about gay rights, but she’d answered the question I’d asked myself. Why did people cling to imperfect historical accounts from so long ago it might as well have been a different world?
It was fear. Fear of the unknown. They’d rather judge everyone by made-up rules that guaranteed a happy ending - black and white rules in a gray world. That way they didn’t have to fear death.
But me... I’d rather live true to myself in this life than spend it worrying about the next one.
Chapter 20
“Dude,” Liv said with a huff then plopped down onto her assigned bed in the bunk room. “This place sucks.”
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