But last night was so mortifying, it needs an exorcism. I take a deep breath. “Did I ever tell you about Charlaine Woods—Rachel’s big sister?”
“No. Why?”
“Well. Charlaine was the ‘First Lesbian’ I ever knew, and last night I fucked her by accident.”
Hannah’s eyebrows rise. “There’s a lot to unpack there. Proceed.”
Most queer folks have the same set of core stories—when they first knew, how they came out, the first crushing discrimination they experienced—but my favorite tale is hearing about the First Lesbian, the Alpha Queer, the first person you recognized as living the outer experience that matched your heart’s inner longing.
And mine’s Charlaine Woods. Star soccer player, effortlessly cool, completely aloof in this charming way that made you want her golden-brown eyes to stop their wandering and settle on you. What got me most of all was how entirely in control she was—of herself, how she felt, the situation. She was more self-possessed at seventeen than most adults, andGod, so ambitious. I was obsessed with her. Rachel’s perfect older sister, the subject of my queer longing before I even knew what the word meant. All I knew was that a bell rang within me every time I saw her, some note of shared existence. The First Lesbian.MyAlpha Queer.
Maybe I wasn’t alone, after all.
The story of last night’s threesome spills out the way the juiciest confessions to priests must, desire and carnal lust burdened with shame and regret. When I’m done, Hannah sits back and whistles.
“I can’t believe you had sex with your first crush—theFirst Lesbian, no less,” Hannah says in awe. “That’s like accidentally climbing Mount Everest, emotionally speaking.”
I give her an annoyed look. “She was my first queer crush, that’s it.”
Hannah snorts. “You just told me more about Charlaine Woods than anyone you’ve ever dated. Well, except for Harlow Benoit, maybe. Foryou to have a threesome with those two?” She crosses her arms behind her head and smirks. “You should go ahead and vow your abstinence now. Nothing’s ever going to compare to last night.”
I start to argue but can’t. “Fuck.” I cradle my tired face in my hands. “It was so mortifying, Hannah. I never want to see Laine again.”
“Do you have to? Doesn’t she live out west?”
“Yeah, maybe she’ll leave soon.” I wonder how long I need to live underground until she returns to California, and I can live in peace again.
“What exactly is so embarrassing for you, anyways? Is it the association with the prom thing?” Hannah uncrosses her arms and sits forward eagerly. “Are youfinallygoing to tell me about what happened with Chance Woods that night?”
I eye her warily. “If I tell you, do you promise to never bring it up, ever?”
“I promise.” Hannah crosses her heart, then pulls her wavy hair into a pile on the top of her head and secures it with a pen. “Gotta hear every word of this,” she explains. “Go ahead.”
“So Chance and Charlaine are twins and two years older than me. I was a sophomore their senior year.”
“Were you still friends with Rachel then?”
“No.” I huff out a breath. “Once she realized I had a crush on Charlaine, she started talking shit about my family and stopped talking to me altogether.”
“She friend-dumped you because you’regay?”
“No, pretty sure it was because I was gayfor Charlaine, which to Rachel was as good as sleeping with the enemy. Aunt Bri had started to suspect I was queer, too.” River’s mom, my aunt Bri, had stepped in to help care for me after my mom died, and while she meant well, she was a gun-toting conservative. When her suspicions about my sexuality were confirmed years later, she disowned me, and River stood up for me, leading to the dissolution of their own relationship when she wouldn’t welcomeme back into the family because of her “values.” Which I guess amounts to Dicks and Vaginas 4-Eva, because Aunt Bri shoved me toward any boy that showed interest in me prior to that. Starting with Chance Woods.
“Why? How did Bri know?” Hannah asks gently. While she’s had her own issues with her mom, Trish, over the years, Trish has never judged a person in her life, and Hannah’s sensitive to how much Aunt Bri, my mother’s only sister, hurt me.
“There were some … browser windows I left open on my laptop.” I clear my throat. “Aunt Bri had my password. I didn’t know.”
“Shit.”
“I lied my way out of it, said it was pop-up spam. But she watched me after that, and when she heard Chance asked me to prom, she came over that night with a big, poufy dress and a bag full of new makeup.”
“Saying no wasn’t an option,” Hannah murmurs, and I nod.
“So I went, and it was fine. Chance is a good guy, and he mostly hung out with his friends anyway. The after party’s when things went to hell.”
I take a deep breath, the cringe already rising within me like the tide. “I’d made this dumb decision when I said yes to Chance. He’s Charlaine’s twin, right? They’re not identical obviously, but they look a lot alike. He was nice, into me, and the socially acceptable version of who I really wanted. I thought, maybe I should have sex withhimand finally prove whether I’m gay or not. But I was nervous, so when someone handed me a beer, I drank it. And another. And another.”
Hannah leans forward. “That asshole didn’t do anything to you, did he?”
