“I wasn’t the one being fucked up,” I said quietly. “You would be mad too if someone discredited you.”
Frankie looked at Zach. “Wait, what happened?” Gossip queens that they were, Zach turned his whole body to Frankie in preparation.
“Eric dumped Howie like two weeks ago because of the whole bisexual thing.”
“What whole bisexual thing?” Frankie asked.
I gave him a look. “Yeah, what exactly do you mean by that, Zach?”
“Now, don’t get defensive, Eric.” Zach took a sip from his drink. “You’re a guy, you were dating a guy. That makes you gay.”
“Except I’m not gay. I’m bisexual.” My voice was clear, and I tried not to sound defensive, but I was so tired of this conversation.
“Gay isn’t a bad word,” Frankie said. “A lot of people use it as an umbrella. Besides, everyone knows bisexuality is just a way to soft launch out of the closet.”
My blood didn’t boil with rage—it curdled with absolute disgust. I was done. I wanted to leave. There are so many issues within the queer community, and biphobia was one of them. There were so many bisexual people on the planet, and therewere still those who believed it was a phase or a stunt. As if sexuality was black and white.
“I just think you were too hard on Howie,” Frankie continued, oblivious to my reaction. “I mean, look at it from his perspective.”
“How about you look at it from mine? How would you feel if your partner continually attacked you for your sexuality, something you couldn’t control? Imagine if it was reversed. Imagine if I kept saying, ‘Howie, you’re not gay, you’re bi with a preference for men.’ You wouldn’t even be talking to me right now because it’s rude as fuck.”
Frankie scoffed. “That is not the same thing and you know it. He just wanted you to be proud to be with him.”
“I was!”
“Then why not just say you’re gay?” Frankie asked, as if it was an easy solution.
“Fucking hell, I cannot keep having this conversation.” I downed the rest of my drink. “Howie’s biphobia was a constant third party in our relationship.”
“Biphobia?” a woman’s voice behind me said. “In this political climate? Ew.”
I turned to find a beautiful woman in a cropped Florence and the Machine shirt. Her dark blonde hair was in a simple braid over her shoulder, and she had glitter on her eyes the colors of the bisexual flag. Still, I didn’t want to assume.
“Sorry to barge in on a very heated argument. I wasn’t eavesdropping—you guys are just loud as hell.”
“Here we go,” Zach mock-whispered. “Another wannabe.” The mystery woman narrowed her eyes.
“You’re just as bad as every basic ass straight guy who hears a girl is bi and immediately assumes we want threesomes. Two girls, one dick: a straight guy's fantasy.” When Zach sneered, she continued. “Bisexuality is not indicative ofpolyamory, and that’s even its own thing that shouldn’t be reduced to threesomes.”
I could sense she was coming to my aid there, so I threw out a line. “Yeah,” I agreed, and I felt the connection between us take hold, like drawn to like. “My ex used to make really offensive quips about how it wouldn’t be considered cheating if I slept with a woman outside our relationship. He would say I wasn’t bi if I was only sleeping with him, but then he’d tell everyone how he expected me to leave him for a woman.”
“Damn, I didn’t know he did all that,” Frankie said. Zach rolled his eyes in denial and left the table to get something from the bar, and Frankie followed him with an apologetic shrug in my direction.
“One day, the queer community will be as accepting as they pretend to be,” the mystery girl said. She looked at my eyes and gave me a soft smile. “You could use better companions for the rest of the night. Want to come with us?” She gestured behind her at another woman with a shirt that read, “Live. Laugh. Lesbian.”
I didn’t know what made me say yes. I didn’t know this person, these people. I could have just as easily declined and gone home. It was one of those sliding doors moments, a life-changing decision. I could see it in front of me like an options menu in a video game. I didn’t know her yet, but I wanted to.
We left the Lemon Drop and walked out into the warm Arizona night air.
“I’m Constance.” She held out her hand to shake mine. “I go by Connie, though.”
“Eric,” I said. “Are you here for Arts Fest?”
“Yeah, we’re a band.” She gestured over to her friend. “This is Lilli.”
“Howdy,” Lilli said.Ironically?“You directed the Wizard of Oz one, didn’t you?”
“I did!” I say, surprised. “Wait, you guys saw it?”
