I hate this. I’ve dated once before. Or twice, sort of, but the second was a blind date with a friend’s cousin who was only in town for a week and so it didn’t go anywhere. And Jenna and I are not even dating, though I know she wants us to be. Still, this feels oddly like I’m breaking up with her, and I don’t like it.
I close my eyes. “I, um, really like hanging out with you,” I start, trying to choose my words carefully. And I’m gearing up to keep going when she lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. Frowning, I turn to look at her again. She’s got her knees pulled up to her chest now, her chin resting on them. Her braids hang down to frame her face as she stares out at the lake.
“You really like hanging out with me,but...?” She blinks and tilts her head to look at me, and there’s an edge to her expression now, an emotional distance she didn’t have before. “Let me guess. I’m not your type? Or maybe it’s that you don’t really want to do a long-distance relationship since you’re leaving for California soon? Or maybe you just want to be friends? It’s one of those, right?”
I start to open my mouth to respond—with what, I don’t even know—but then she shakes her head and turns to look out at the water.
“Don’t worry. I’m used to it. I’ve heard every excuse in the book. I know how it is. I just really thought...” She doesn’t finish her sentence, and I’m shaking my head as I turn to face her fully this time.
“What did you think?” I ask. I don’t really even expect an answer. She’s obviously been hurt and led on before, and hell, I’m not really any better than any of those other guys, am I?
She smiles, but now there’s almost a bitterness to it. “I really thought you were different, I guess. I thought you were honest.And I thought you liked me, too.”
“I do! I-I mean, I . . .”
“You like me,as a friend,” she finishes for me.
I close my eyes again and groan, realizing how awful I sound right now. “Well, yeah, but—”
“It’s okay. Like I said, I’m used to it.”
“It’s not okay. I should have told you sooner,” I argue. “I just didn’t know how to.”
Her eyebrows lift in tandem as she turns her head toward me. “You didn’t knowhowto? Alex, come on now. That’s pretty weak, isn’t it? I thought you were supposed to be some genius or something.”
I drop my eyes, and my stomach clenches. She’s right. It’s a pretty lame excuse, and I’m not even sure what the truth is at this point. WhyhadI led her on?
Shaking my head, I say, “I’m sorry. The truth is, I’ve known you wanted more than friendship for a while now, but—”
“I wasn’t exactly hiding it.”
“No. You weren’t. This is . . . this is on me. I, um . . .”
There’s a quiet hum from next to me, and when I glance up at her, her eyes are a little wide and her expression softer.
I frown. “What?”
She bites her lower lip and then takes a deep breath. “You’re... not... attracted to me,” she says slowly, although that just confuses me more.
“What? No, that’s not it. I mean, I think you’re really pretty. Beautiful, actually. And you’re nice and fun to be around and—”
“Oh, so you’renotgay?” she cuts in.
Both of my eyes slam shut, and I shake my head, realizing this just got even more complicated. “I’m not. I’m not gay. I...” Fuck. This wasnotwhat I planned when I decided I wanted to be honest with her. But here we are, and... and she’s my friend, and a goodperson. And after how I’ve hurt her, I should show her some trust. Right? I swallow hard, ignoring the queasiness in my stomach as I finally come out and say the words that I’ve only admitted to myself in my head. “I’m not gay. I-I’m bi. I think. I mean, I am. Or maybe pan. I’m not really sure, it’s, um, hard to define exactly. But I do... find you attractive.”
She’s quiet for a minute, and when I finally convince myself to open my eyes, she gives me this small smile that’s soft and kind. I tear my gaze away and stare back down at my hands, clasped tightly together in my lap.
“You’re the first person I’ve ever told that,” I say. “I think my mom might kind of know, but I’ve never actually, you know, told anyone before. So, um... yeah.”
This time, it’s her hand that comes over to cover mine, and it feels different than her touch back at the bowling alley. It feels like it’s meant to comfort. With a gentle squeeze, she says, “Thank you for telling me.” Then in a slightly teasing tone, she adds, “Although that doesn’t really explain why you don’t want to dateme, does it?”
I laugh lightly, shaking my head, and she pulls her hand away and stares back out toward the lake. I follow her gaze, wondering if she’s expecting me to explain more. I’m not sure I can, though, and as the silence stretches on between us, she scoots just a little closer.
Then, after a few more minutes, she says, “I’m cool with just being friends.”
I tilt my head to look at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She glances at me, smiles, and then bumps me with her shoulder playfully. “Besides, long-distance relationships do kinda suck, and there’s no way I’m following you out to Cali.”
