by Mercy Amare
My face warms at his comment. “But what is so special about me? I mean, look at me. I have no fashion sense, I hardly ever wear makeup, and my hair is always a mess. The other girls at school here are gorgeous. They all wear designer clothes and their hair and makeup is fixed to perfection.”
“Most girls here would kill to have their dad’s credit card,” he says. “But you have one and you hardly use it. You’re a sixteen year old girl, and your dad has to tell you to use your credit card more. And your solution wasn’t to buy something for yourself, it was to buy something for me on my birthday. And I love that you don’t care about your clothes. You’re beautiful in a pair of jeans. And you don’t need makeup. You, just the way you are, takes my breath away. And your hair isn’t messy. It’s always perfect.”
My mouth involuntarily falls open and I have to tell myself to shut it.
He’s just being nice.
He can’t mean those things.
He has said so many times that he just wants to be friends, and I have to respect that. I can’t develop feelings for him. But when he says stuff like that, it’s hard not to.
“You seem shocked,” he says.
“I am.”
“Well, don’t be. You’re more amazing than you give yourself credit for,” he says.
Sebastian reaches over and grabs my hand. And I wonder what it means. Most girls and guys don’t hold hands if they’re just friends, but Sebastian isn’t like other people. I’m not used to a comforting touch, but I can definitely get used to this. It’s like my hand was made to fit inside his.
“What is this?” I ask Sebastian, motioning towards our hands. I need to know if he’s just holding my hand because we’re friends, or if it’s something more.
He grins at me. “Do me a favor and don’t overthink it.”
I nod.
“Do you like holding my hand?” he asks.
I nod again.
“How do you feel? When we touch.”
“Hot and cold at the same time. Like my heart beats faster and harder. And my stomach feels like I’ve been on a carnival ride that spins around and around—like I’m dizzy and I have anxious butterflies in my stomach.”
I am surprised at how honest my answer is. And I think, maybe, I shouldn’t have said it. But Sebastian’s smile only widens at my response.
“That’s how I always feel when I’m around you,” he says.
Before I can respond, I realize that we have arrived at the party. A very tipsy Drew spots us and stumbles his way over. He throws an arm around me. Sebastian and I both drop our hands, and I miss his touch immediately.
“Hey, Bae,” he says.
His breath wrecks of cheap vodka and beer. I throw his arm off of me.
Once again, my moment with Sebastian was ruined. I can’t help but feel disappointed.
But, really, what was I expecting? For Sebastian to confess his undying love for me? That isn’t going to happen. Ever. And while a big part of me wants it to, I know that he deserves so much better. He deserves a nice, normal girl. Not one with scars. And I’m not just talking about the scars on the outside... the scars on the inside are even deeper than the ones on my thighs.
“Already drunk?” Sebastian asks Drew. I can hear the annoyance in his voice.
“Just a little tipsy,” Drew says.
Sebastian grabs the red cup from Drew’s hands. “I’m cutting you off. Only water from now on. I don’t want to have to leave early because you’re passed out drunk.”
“Party pooper,” Drew mumbles and them stumbles off after some blonde cheerleader who happened to be walking by.
Sebastian disposes of the cup.
While he does that, my eyes scan the party. I’m looking for Brody. I want to talk to him and make sure he’s okay, but I don’t see him. I’m sure that he will be showing up later. When he does, I will have to make up some excuse to talk to him.
I spot Hope and Bryce both hitting the keg. Of course.
When I look at Sebastian, I see that he’s looking over at Hope and Bryce, too.
“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” I tell him.
“I don’t like to drink,” he says. “It tastes gross and you wake up with a hangover. It’s just not worth it to me.”
I shrug. “I think it could be fun in moderation. And maybe I will when I’m older. I just can’t right now. I want to do everything I can to help Caleb stay clean.”
What I don’t say is that I don’t want to get addicted like Caleb.
I have an addictive personality already. I was addicted to cutting for four years. And even though it’s been over a year since I stopped, I still think about it. I miss it. The only thing that keeps me from doing it, is remembering Caleb on his bed. And then, remembering the look on my dad’s face at the hospital, when we weren’t sure if Caleb was going to live or die.
Sometimes, I think a little cut won’t hurt, that it would make me feel better, but then I’m scared that if I started again, I would never stop. That is enough to keep me from actually doing it.
“Do you ever miss cutting?” Sebastian asks me, and for a moment I wonder if he can read my mind. But I know that’s not true.
I nod, not trusting my own voice.
“Next time you feel like you want to, call me,” he says.
I nod again.
“Promise me, Jinger,” he says.
I give him a half nod, mostly because I’m not sure if that’s something I can promise. I mean, I trust Sebastian. Maybe more than I trust myself. But I don’t want him to see how weak I am. I don’t want him to see how screwed up I am. And I definitely don’t want him to see me when I’m that low.
“Verbal response,” Sebastian insists. “Please.”
I take a deep breath. “I promise.” My voice comes out in a whisper, but I know he heard me.
He seems satisfied with my answer.
A few seconds later, I hear Hope yell my name. She walks over, a drink in hand. She’s got a huge grin on her face. She’s been drinking, but not enough to be drunk or tipsy yet. Just enough to unwind.
And in that moment, I’m jealous that I don’t drink. I just want to forget all the bad stuff for a little bit.
“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” I tell her.
A few guys yell at Sebastian and wave him over. He leaves me with Hope and goes over to talk with them.
“I am in a good mood,” she says. “Have you ever been in a relationship that you knew was going nowhere, but you still didn’t want it to end because you knew it would hurt?”
I shake my head.
“Well, trust me, it sucks. But I just had this huge epiphany, like, literally two minutes ago. And I realized that I’m so over my ex. I’m ready to move on,” she says, gazing off in the distance. “In fact, I think I have a crush on somebody else. Like a massive crush. Like, maybe they’re the love of my life.”
I follow her eyes to see a group of girls talking to Drew.
My mouth falls open. “You’re... into Drew?”
She looks at me, her nose wrinkled. “Drew? No way. I mean, he’s nice, but so not my type. We’ve been over this. I like skinny blonds with blue eyes.”
“Hope, Drew is a skinny blond with blue eyes.”
She nods. “I suppose. But he’s athletic. Too muscular. In a significant partner I like somebody delicate. With soft lips. And long hair. A nice, tight—”
I cut her off. “Hope. I do not want to lose my dinner.”
“Sorry,” she says.
“Who are you crushing on?” I ask.
None of the guys in our school has long hair. Mostly because it’s against the rules in the school handbook.
New Haven Academy is so old school about that kind of stuff.
Like the fact that girls can’t have un-natural hair colors—blonde, brown and red are acceptable. Which makes me sad, because I kind of wonder what I would look like with a little bit of pink in my hair. I guess I’ll have to wait for college
to experiment.
“I can’t tell you,” Hope finally answers. “Not yet. But soon, I think.”
Okay, so maybe Hope has had a little more to drink than I first thought.
“You’re crazy,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says. “Crazy, but fun.”
“And that is why I love you.”
She grins, and then makes her way over to where Drew is talking to a group of girls. I recognize a lot of them from the dance team. I notice she and Molly start to talk. They both lean into each other when they talk.
And then something hits me.
Molly is thin. And she has long blonde hair. And blue eyes.
But that can’t be right. I’m pretty sure that I would know if my roommate was a lesbian.
At least, I think so.
Sunday, September 22
We kinda kissed.
Brody didn’t show up at the party last night. And I wouldn’t think anything of it, but he also didn’t show up for breakfast or lunch. I’m freaking out, just a little bit.
Okay, so I’m probably freaking out over nothing. He’s probably just off campus, hanging out. He probably went to visit his family or something.
But still, what if something bad did happen? He just told me he knew something scary about a murder than happened, and then he disappeared. Should I tell somebody? But then again, what if he is just visiting family? I promised I wouldn’t tell. So, I decide just to keep my mouth shut. Nobody else seems to think anything about his absence and neither should I.
When we were at lunch today, Isaac excitingly told us about how he was invited back to the club to play. Bryce and Bianca both decide they want to come with us this time, so Drew is getting them a fake ID. I don’t even want to know where he gets them.
As soon as we get back to the room, Hope says she wants to get started on my dress for Friday night, so I pull out my laptop and write another blog post. I have a few comments from people complaining that I’m too happy now. Which makes me roll my eyes. I guess people want me to be miserable?
Like, seriously, just a month ago I was talking about how I was sick of feeling like the world was caving in. I had people comment and tell me they hoped I found happiness. Now, some of these same people are saying I’m too happy. Just, why?
Sometimes the internet is a sick place.
“Jinger,” I hear Hope say. Her sketchbook is sitting on the bed beside her, and she’s on the edge. She is twisting a piece of her hair with her finger and she looks nervous.
I set my laptop down and scoot to the edge of my own bed. “What’s up?”
“I have something to tell you,” she says. “And I’m kind of scared to tell you. But it’s... important. I just have never told anybody before. And I’m kind of freaking out about this. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”
“You can trust me, Hope.”
“I know,” she says, then sighs. “It’s something really personal. And I’ve known for a long time, but I guess I was scared to accept it. And I shouldn’t be scared. It’s who I am. But...” she pauses, and meets my eye contact. “I think I’m a lesbian.” She shakes her head. “No. I know I’m a lesbian.”
I am not one hundred percent shocked.
But when somebody says something like this to you, how are you supposed to react?
I take a deep breath and smile.
“I’m the first person you’ve ever come out to?” I ask.
She nods. “I had a girlfriend over the summer. But even in New York City, I would freak out when we went out in public. I wouldn’t let her kiss me just because I was scared somebody would see.”
“You shouldn’t have to hide who you are,” I tell her. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Do you... think differently of me?”
I shake my head. “You’re the same person you were five minutes ago. If anything, it makes me feel closer to you. I can’t believe I’m the first person you’ve told.”
“I kind of want to tell all our friends,” she says. “Like, I’m so not ready to tell my family, but this is a step in that direction.”
“I think you should tell our friends. They won’t judge you.”
“I know,” she says. “But I’m still scared. Will you... I don’t know... be there?”
“Yeah. Definitely.”
Her face breaks into a grin and I can see the relief. “I was so scared to tell you. Like, I wanted to tell you so many times before now, but I always chickened out. I knew you were a good first person to come out to.”
“My only regret is that you waited this long. You should never feel like you have to hide who you are.”
“True,” she says. “And I feel, like, so much better.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hope smile so big.
And I’m so glad she’s happy. She deserves to be happy.
“Does this mean I can’t joke about going lesbian with you anymore?” I ask.
She giggles. “Sorry, Jinger. You’re not my type. Besides, it’s pretty obvious you’re straight.”
I fake pout. “Right, you like blondes.”
“Molly, actually.”
“You like Molly?” I ask.
She nods.
I met Molly my first night here. My first impression was that she is really hyper, but there is a lot more to her. She’s on the dance team, and I’ve seen her perform at the games. Everybody on the team is good, but she’s just outstanding. She is the one you focus on when they’re performing because she just outshines everybody around her.
“Is Molly a lesbian?”
“Yes,” Hope answers. “She’s actually the only openly gay person at our school right now. She was out before she came here.”
“That’s awesome. Do you think she likes you too?”
“I think so,” Hope says, grinning. “Last night... we kinda kissed.”
“Kind of kissed?”
“Well, we did.”
“What happened after?” I ask.
“Nothing. It was just a kiss. A really, really good kiss,” she says. “She told me that she’s crushed on me since our freshman year. But she said she wouldn’t date me unless I came out. And that scared the crap out of me. Telling you and our friends is one thing. Telling my parents is another. They are absolutely going to freak out.”
“Well, if you need my help or anything, let me know. I fully support you.”
“Thanks, Jinger.”
“Even though you totally shattered my dream of us being lesbians together,” I joke.
She laughs. “It would’ve never worked out, anyway.”
“Probably.”
“Besides, you’re way into Sebastian,” she says.
“Am not,” I counter.
“Whatever. Keep telling yourself that.” She grabs her sketchpad and scoots back on her bed. Before she starts drawing, she looks up at me. “I tried to deny my attraction to girls for a long time. And it doesn’t work. It’s best if you just accept it. The sooner, the better.”
She goes back to working on her sketch and I go back to replying to comments on my blog.
But I think about what she said.
Even though her situation is completely different, maybe she has a point.
And then I think, what if Sebastian got a girlfriend? He is attractive. And girls here like him a lot.
I would hate to see him with another girl.
I shut my computer and pull out my phone to text him.
Me: We need to talk. Like, now.
Sebastian: Everything okay?
Me: Yeah. Meet me outside of the student center.
I throw a hoodie over my tank top and head out.
4 p.m.
Is it working?
When I get outside of the student center, I see Sebastian sitting on a bench, waiting for me.
And suddenly, nerves hit me full force.
What was I thinking?
I can’t do this.
He’s going to give me a we can only be friends speech, and I’m g
oing to be embarrassed. And then he’s going to avoid me because of the awkwardness, causing me to lose the best friend I’ve ever had.
Or, you know, he could tell me he feels the same. Which is high doubtful, but I can’t help the small, tiny spark of hope.
Sebastian smiles when he sees me. I take a seat next to him.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I say back, feeling a little bashful.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “When I got your text, I was worried. Because, you know... what I made you promise last night.”
“Oh. No,” I say, shaking my head.
He thinks I called him here because I want to cut myself. That makes me want to run away. Like, now.
Why would Sebastian want to be with somebody as screwed up as me.
“What is it?” he asks.
I’m about to tell him I changed my mind. That I don’t want to tell him. But then I imagine him in the arms of somebody like Nicole Wright. And I know he’d never date a girl as shallow as she is. Or, at least not again. But someday, he will date somebody, and I want to be that somebody.
“First, I need you to promise you won’t hate me after I say what I’m about to say,” I tell him. “Or avoid me if it’s awkward.”
He nods. “I could never hate you. Or avoid you. So, that’s an easy promise to make.”
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I was talking to Hope about... things. And she pointed out that I shouldn’t try to hide how I feel, because then I would just be miserable.” I pause. “Wow, this is harder than I thought it would be.”
I stop and take another breath.
“Jinger?” Sebastian says.
I look up at him.
His eyes are so pretty. They’re super dark brown, but in the sunlight, I can see little flecks of green in them. Making him even more stunning.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
I nod. “But this is different.” Like so, so different.
Sebastian laughs. “Do you remember the other day? When I was going to tell you something, but then changed my mind?”