Her pretty mouth falls open. Her cheeks are flushed from crying, but… If this was anyone else, I would think she…
No. That can’t be it?
Heat prickles at my neck.
She’s straight.
She’sstraight.
Isn’t she?
‘Dolly,’ she whispers my name like a promise. ‘They’re both men. That’s what they have in common. I think… perhaps I’ve been lying to myself about who I am for so long that it’s all coming out now.’
Oh fucking hell.
Iamin trouble.
Sirens might be blaring in my ears sayingget away, get up and move, stop looking at the pretty redhead, but I cannot move.
No wonder I can’t stop looking at her. I never did fall for straight girls.
She drops my hand and while my skin yearns for her touch again, I’m relieved for the space. ‘Sorry,’ she says, jumping up. ‘I don’t know what I’m saying. I shouldn’t assume. I just… I wonder if I’ve been burying the real me so deep for so long that it’s spilling out now. Erupting?’
‘Like a volcano?’ I say stupidly.
When she laughs, it’s like a burst of fire in my chest. ‘The metaphor is a bit tortured but it will do. I think it’s not that I don’t like men, because I think I do, but I’m starting to realise that I like women too.’
I am hit with a barrage of feelings.
Relief, that this whole time she wasn’t asking about my connection to queer women because she was investigating me.
Terrified about what happens next.
Thrilled that she might, possibly, like me.
Shut up, brain! I’m still sitting on her bed, which feels dangerous, even if she’s pacing back and forth.
God, how the fuck do I navigate this conversation without outing myself? ‘That… sounds difficult.’
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t— I didn’t—’ she splutters, whirling back and forth. ‘Fuck, I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I? I’ll ask for a room transfer.’
Before I can think it through, I grab her by the wrist. ‘Carys, stop. It’s fine. I don’t feel uncomfortable.’
Not in the way she thinks, at least. I can’t let her think that she’s coming out to someone who’s having a homophobic reaction about sharing a room with her; that would break her heart.
‘And I’m not going to repeat what you’ve said outside these walls. That’s your business, not theirs,’ I add.
‘Thank you.’ She’s so short that we’re basically the same height when I’m sitting down. The knowledge makes my lower belly melt. ‘When I was a teenager,’ she continues, ‘I thought I liked girls, but I hid it from everyone. I told myself I’d got it wrong. I don’t think I was wrong.’
And when Carys turns her face to me again, all prettily pink-smudged with sadness, I see something else there. ‘You’ve… never felt that way about a girl before?’ she says.
It’s a whisper, barely there, but it hits me like a wall.
What am I supposed to do? Lie? Obviously, and yet.
I know that coming onWedded Blissmeant locking away that part of me, but I can’t quite bring myself to say the words.
If this were anywhere else, I’d be candid. I’d be honest. I’d tell her it’s normal. I’d try to desperately ignore the soft falling-open of her mouth.
