“Can I ask you something?” I say. We’re six frames in and the only things we’ve really talked about so far are candy and the fall concert coming up in November.
Charlie grabs her ball from the ball rack. “Sure.”
“You haven’t told them, have you?”
She pauses, her black ball balanced on her fingertips. “What?”
“Your parents. You haven’t told them. About us.”
Her mouth drops open but then snaps shut. “I . . . I didn’t—”
“Are you for real? Your parents have no clue we broke up? I knew your dad seemed super friendly.”
“He’s a super friendly guy.”
“Have you told them or not?”
Her jaw tightens and she turns, throwing her ball down the alley sloppily, like she’s tossing a blanket onto a mattress. The ball clatters toward the gutter and disappears behind the pins.
“That’s a zero, you know,” I say, like a total smart-ass. “Let’s hope your second ball is a little better.”
Charlie walks back to where I’m sitting and falls into the chair next to me. “No. I haven’t told them.”
“Why?”
“Because . . .” She trails off, her eyes blinking at the flashing neon red-and-white bowling pins on the back wall of the alley.
Talking to her parents about herself—?all of herself—?has always been a sort of land mine for Charlie. They know she likes girls, only because four years ago, her mom sat her down, handed her a salted-caramel brownie—?Charlie’s favorite—?and flat out asked her. Charlie would never have told them on her own. Consequently, her relationships are the one aspect of her life that’s wide open to them, and they’ve always been super cool about everything. When we started dating—?which they knew about only because they came home early one Friday night and found us wrapped up on the couch watching a movie—?Mrs. Koenig just grinned and said it was about time.
Charlie hated that they knew. When I asked her why one night while we were curled together on her bed, she just shrugged and said the reason didn’t matter now anyway.
“Bullshit,” I’d said. Then I pulled a blanket over us, creating a tent. “Secrets are safe in here. It’s our own little world, just you and me.”
She sighed and looked away. “It’s just . . . my parents wanted a kid so bad, you know? Tried for years and it never happened. Until it did. Now they’ve got me and I just . . . god, it sounds stupid.”
“Nothing that comes out of this brain can be stupid,” I said, kissing her on the forehead.
“I’m not a normal girl, I know that.”
“Me either. What the hell’s normal?”
“No, I know. But, I guess what I mean is that I’m not really the kind of daughter parents dream of having, you know? I just wonder sometimes . . .”
“Charlie. You like girls. That’s normal for you. It’s not a deal breaker. And your parents are totally cool with it. Hell, they even seem happy about it.”
“I know, but all the other stuff.” She waved a hand down her body. “I mean, gender issues freak people the hell out.”
“That’s because some people are assholes. Your parents aren’t. And all this”—?I tapped her forehead and then drifted my hand down her arm—?“is who you are too and your parents love you.”
She frowned at that but nodded. “I guess part of me is always waiting for my parents to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
“That I’m not the daughter they dreamed about.”
I couldn’t say anything to that. My heart broke for her, for all the things she was scared to tell her parents. Basically, Charlie will have to come out twice to her parents. They pretty much helped her along about liking girls, but eventually, she’ll have to do it all over again about being genderqueer. Coming out once was hard enough for me, so I just tangled my legs with hers and kissed her until she stopped shaking.
“Can I ask you a question?” I said when she seemed a little calmer.
