Chapter Text
I didn’t mean to upset him, but I guess my rejection hit him hard. Terrence Zanders, apparently the hottest, most popular kid in school asked me to the Homecoming dance. I wouldn’t know if he’s all that. I barely notice boys.
“I’ve never seen you around here before.” He tells me, giving me a once over, his dark brown eyes running along my body in a manner I can’t even describe.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s because I just moved here from California.”
“Ah, so you’re a real California girl aren’t you?”
I scoff at that and roll my eyes, which for some reason makes me even more appetizing to him because he looks along my body again. It makes me want to vomit. I just want to make friends at my new high school here in Stoneburrow, Ohio, because me and my parents are staying here while they look for work, and I’d like to not look like a complete and total loser until I graduate high school. My mom works at an advertising agency making ads for products sold in Asia, so she’s gone a lot of the time. And my dad was just fired at his job at a newspaper ‘cause no one freaking reads those things anymore and--.
Okay, sorry back to the point. I’ve been at school a week and Mr. Hottie Terrence asks me out to go to the dance next Saturday.
“Sorry,” I say, trying to sound actually remorseful. “I have to take care of my baby sister that night. I appreciate you asking me though.”
I don’t have a baby sister. I’m an only child. But I didn’t want to tell Terrence the real reason I didn’t want to go to the dance with him. It wasn’t because I didn’t think he was cute (even though yeah he’s not really my type but he’s fine physically I guess), and it wasn’t because I’m new here because if you think about it going to the dance with a popular kid would give me instant friends (though not the kind of friends I’d want). It was because I don’t play for his team. And faking it or leading him on wouldn’t be fair to him, so I was really doing him a favor. He didn’t see it that way though. I guess you don’t reject rich, entitled, pretty boys.
So you could say that what came next was a royal shitstorm. I was only at school a few months before the world came crashing down around me. I’m thinking Terrence didn’t particularly enjoy being rejected by some random girl that he barely knew. Who could’ve known that? I mean, who would’ve known he’d react so rashly to the fact that I rejected him? Though I’ve never asked anyone out or gotten rejected, so really I’m not an expert on the subject.
Anyway, he must’ve found my old facebook from California (which I tried to figure out how to put on private so I could have a fresh start at my new school but that obviously didn’t work) where I clearly identified myself as a “lesbian” and he took a picture and shared it on the Stoneburrow High School’s facebook page.
One of my friends, Ellis, texted me with several scared face emojis and a quick message saying:
“Are you alright Ivy? Do you want me to punch him?”
My other friend, Ria just asked if I was “planning a coming out party” I appreciated her trying to lighten the mood like she did when Ellis and I needed her to, but that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear right now.
I didn’t respond to either of them. I placed my phone face down on my desk and let out a loud sigh. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t move. All of my nerves were on edge, giving me goosebumps on my pale, thin arms. I’d never been outed before. It felt awful. Like one of those dreams where you’re naked in front of the whole class who are laughing at you...only this felt even more personal than my crotch and boobs on display. It was mortifying. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, like all the air in my lungs was being filtered out of me at once.
My hands palmed my eyes and I just started to bawl, resting my elbows on my desk. Yes, I was out at school in California, but I knew how conservative the town in Ohio could be and I wanted to protect myself from ignorant assholes. I’d done my research. I’d abandoned my accepting friends in California with the promise of coming to visit. Even my parents didn’t think I’d make any friends if decided to come out here. Ignoramus Ivy strikes again. That’s what I called my persona that was always causing me problems: my anxiety-ridden, obsessively concerned self that kept making me mess shit up.
Why hadn’t I just said yes to the stupid asshole? Why had I rejected him? And why had I stupidly come out on facebook? I guess my personality for wanting to be a honest person about myself was starting to make my life a living hell. Go figure. I mean, it’s not as if I could have predicted what the result would be, as Ellis kept telling me.
My mom offered to go for a walk with me and my dog Bennie (who’s named after Ben Platt, my favorite broadway musical star), but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her everything that was going on and if I went on a walk, she’d definitely see how solemn I was acting and ask about my day, which I really didn’t want to get into right now. My mom always had a way of getting me to talk. I mean I’m not one to go to parties and drink underage, but I bet my mom would make me tell her if I did. My mom can always tell something is wrong with me and make me tell her. In some ways, my mom is my best friend. I mean, she’s known me my entire life. Unless you had a best friend attend your birth, no friend is ever going to have known since you were born.
Anyway, my parents have always been okay with me being gay, but they have enough on their plate as it is. I was just glad that my friends and the people in my life were okay about it and were there for me. I just wish someone at school was out too that way I wouldn’t feel so alone. It didn’t make sense that I hadn’t met a single queer person, even in California. Maybe I just wasn’t meeting enough people? I don’t go out much, that’s for sure. Being an introvert rules, don’t let anyone tell you any different. Whatever the case, I was still filled with rage about being outed.
Ughh straight people. I didn’t get how they didn’t get that coming out was a huge freaking deal. What if I had religious parents who buried their faces in their Bible on the daily?
In some countries they kill gay people, don’t they? I remember reading an article that gays and lesbians marry each other in parts of Asia so that their families aren’t stigmatized by their communities. Immediately after finishing the article, I silently thanked my parents for being more understanding than a place with more old people than young people.
As if sensing I wasn’t feeling okay, Bennie trots into my room, his little white maltese body crouching, rearing for a big leap. I laugh at him and he bolts upward into my arms as the spinny chair at my desk falls over and my head hits the end of my bed (which isn’t actually hard because of the large mattress) and we both topple downward, Bennie leaning over me, standing on my stomach and licking my face. It’s like he knows I can’t be upset when he’s around. I chuckle and place him gently on my bed above my head so I can get up and pick up the chair so it’s upright again.
“You always know what’s going on with me, don’t you buddy?” I ask him sweetly and he blinks up at me, panting slightly with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. His fur is freshly brushed and groomed, his coat shining from his bath this past weekend. My mom had finally had time off and she chose to bathe the dog. My dad and I had teased her good naturedly about it.
I chuckle again, this time only slightly though, as reality kicks back in.
“I’m in a bit of a mess, Bennie-boy.” I tell him softly, settling down on my knees by the bed, my elbows folded onto the side of the mattress. Bennie whines then licks my face and I close my eyes at the sensation, forcing a smile to creep on my features.
I decide it would be a good idea to take Bennie out for a walk after all, just to clear my head.
“Wanna go on a walk baby boy?” I ask him and his entire body shoots up like a firework, his tail waving through the air wildly.
I grab my phone and headphones before going down the stairs, Bennie following close behind. I grab his leash from the counter and attach it to his collar, then slip out into the afternoon sun.
It’s hot as hell outside but with my headphones in I can basically ignore it and let Bennie lead the way. We had gone on the same route every single day during the summer, around the neighborhood and back, sometimes further along the road if it’s not too bad out. Bennie has memorized the route and every single place he likes to sniff and pee and goes along the path like it’s nothing. It still feels like summer but the cold claw of reality settles on my shoulder, making sure I remember school has started. I let my mind wander as Tegan and Sara play in my ear, their words slowly soothing me. But then I remember that their songs are mostly romantic and that’s the last sort of thing I need to hear right now. I don’t want to picture Terrence and his stupid green eyes and lengthy body, asking me on a date before outing me.
As much as I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic, I, Ivy Iverson, have never been in love. There, I said it. I’ve never even kissed anyone. I guess I have never found the right girl. I’ve had crushes here and there, and I tried to date guys before I realized that penis was not for me. I haven’t gotten a home run, hell, I haven’t even gotten to first base. I hate sports, but all these sports metaphors keep filling my mind. Maybe it’s because my dad is obsessed with baseball and football. I watch with him sometimes, but I mainly end up on my phone instead of paying the games any attention. Dad has been so preoccupied with finding work that he hasn’t switched on the tv in weeks. Or maybe it’s because I’m obsessed with metaphors in general and think English class is actually fun sometimes.
I guess I’m not the kind of girl that other girls fall for. I’m a nice, nerdy girl who sometimes can’t say no to doing things for my friends. I remember giving my drunk friend a ride home in California when it was a school night at 3 AM with an exam in the morning. Let’s just say she owed me one after that. My grades are decent, I’m in a few clubs. I like to write stories. I read stories all the time about pretty girls getting the guys or the girls because they’re just so in sync and engulfed in each other’s gorgeousness.
I’m pretty average, nothing all that special. I’m not conventionally attractive. I’m not too plump or skinny, not that weight should matter when dating someone. I don’t wear makeup or give a shit what I look like, even though sometimes I catch a glance at myself in the mirror and hate my hair or my body or my face. I don’t know, I’ll work on my self-esteem. That’s not the point though. I just keep wondering, where’s my romance? Where are all the stories about the average, nerdy girls getting that special someone? A real love story, where it doesn’t end in tragedy or heart break. And when will that kind of story happen to someone like me?
I get back from the walk, unhook Bennie then head upstairs. I think I need to take a nap. I’m just so mentally exhausted.
When I wake up dinner is ready and I eat in silence, making the excuse that I don’t feel good and head back up to my room to lie down. I sigh deeply, my hands over my face in pure agony.
Tomorrow is gonna suck.