“Queer? Yep.” Her hand slides back into the security of the quilt, and she pulls it tighter around herself. “Not that I’ve had a ton of experience there. I think I’ve kissed three people? Andtwo of them were playing Truth or Dare when I was twelve, so I like to pretend they don’t count. But yeah. Definitely not straight.”
“Oh. Well … cool.”
I bite my tongue, annoyed by my own awkward response. I’m used to being the one coming out to people, not the other way around. I’m not actually sure what to say when I’m on the other end of this conversation.“Congratulations”and“I’m so proud of you”are responses I’ve gotten from supportive friends in the past, but I’ve always found them a bit odd. It wasn’t that I’d accomplished anything. I’d just rather kiss girls than boys.
Rose rescues me from the awkwardness with a question. “Do they know? Sol and the other girls? Are you out to them?”
“Yeah. They all know.”
“And they’re cool about it?”
“Mostly,” I say. “I told Sol during one of our first Growth Sessions. It didn’t seem to faze him. He just said that as long as I stayed focused on myself and my sisters here—as long as I put this family first—it didn’t matter who I was attracted to.”
“And the other girls?”
“Some seemed more okay with it than others. I think a couple of them might have grown up in kind of strict, religioushomes. Or I may have been the first lesbian they met, I don’t know. But Sol said I was welcome here.”
“And they trust Sol?”
“We all do,” I say. “He saved us. He’s taken us all in and helped us get on the right path. He never steers us wrong.”
She is quiet after that, her big, round eyes staring at the fire. I can tell she is thinking about something, lost in a thought she seems hesitant to speak. But before I can work up the nerve to ask, she turns back to me with a new question.
“So has it always been just the five of you, or have there been other girls here?”
“Poppy and Zinnia came back in the summer. When I first arrived, Lily and Violet were the only girls here. But I think maybe there was someone before me? Marigold.”
“Where is she now?”
I shrug. “She left, I guess. They don’t really talk about her. I’ve just heard them mention her in passing. I love it here, but this kind of life isn’t for everyone, I guess.”
“And has Sol ever taken in boys?”
“Not that I know of. But I’m sure he would if he found someone who needed him the way we all did. But he’d want to be sure we all felt safe around them, too.”
Rosefrowns a little at that. I can see the skepticism on her face, and honestly, I understand it. It all sounded strange to me when I first got here, too. But once I let my guard down, took the love and support from Sol and the others at face value, and let myself trust it was real, all my previous skepticism had faded away.
I’m sure it will in time for Rose, too.
And for now, she does seem to shake it off. Her knee bumps mine slightly as she shifts to look at me a bit better.
“So were you out before you came here?”
“Yeah.”
“Was your family supportive?”
I open my mouth to answer, then catch myself, reeling the words back in before they can escape. My eyes move away from hers, and now I’m the one staring into the dancing flames. “Um …”
“Sorry,” she says with a sigh. “I know asking about the past is against the rules or whatever.”
“It’s not against therules,” I say, suddenly feeling a bit defensive. “We can talk about whatever we want. But dwelling on the past doesn’t help us. Painful memories are like weeds.”
“Are they?” Rose asks, a hint of mischief in her raspy voice. “Or are they like clouds, blocking the sun so that photosynthesis can’t happen?”
Isigh.“Okay.”
“Or,” she continues, voice getting a bit louder as she tries to hold in her own laugh, “are painful memories like the deer who eat the flowers? Or the dog who runs through the garden chasing a ball and tramples over all the plants?”
