Chapter Text
Long, wavy, blonde hair. Perfect blue eyes. A smile that left me breathless. And I was going to have to leave it all behind. Leave her behind. It was the day of my high school graduation, and I was trying my best to imprint the image of her in my brain for later, whilst also trying to look inconspicuous. I idly wondered if she had ever noticed one of many times I had blatantly stared at her, unable to look away from the way she glowed. I didn’t want to leave high school, and her, behind. It seemed like only a short while ago when it all started...
***
The Wizard of Oz – that was the play we were putting on in my sophomore year of high school. I had a small role in the chorus, but I was still required to dress in full munchkin wardrobe, hair and makeup. On opening night, backstage was a mess of cast and crew floundering around making sure everything was in order (which of course nothing was – it was opening night, after all). I had my rainbow t-shirt and overalls on, and sparkly makeup applied to my face, but I hadn’t been able to manage doing my own hair. The director had instructed all munchkins to have some sort of silly hair do, but the way I did my hair looked less silly and more like a hot mess.
I felt small and unnoticed – my only friend also involved in the play was Farkle, but he mostly hung out with the other leads, as he was playing the scarecrow (ironic considering the brain he has). I was looking for someone who could help me with my hair when a soft, feminine voice asked, “Are you looking for someone?”
I spun around to see a shorter girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, and recognized her as the girl who sat in the back of my science class. I believed her name was Maya.
“Actually, I was just looking for someone who could help me with my hair.” I motioned to the mess on my head and gave a small smile.
“I can do hair,” she simply said. “Come,” she beckoned me over to a stray chair, and I followed, glad that someone was finally going to help me. I didn’t know the girl very well at all, but if she could make my hair look half decent, that was all that mattered.
I sat and the girl immediately started running her hands through my hair, combing with her fingers. It felt nice, and I started to relax a little. As she began pulling pieces of hair together in what seemed to be a kind of braiding pattern, I tried filling the silence with some small talk.
“So I didn’t know you were part of the play. Are you in crew?” I stared forward, and listened for a reply from behind me.
“Nah, I’m just volunteering. You know, mandatory volunteer hours? I’m doing mine here.”
I started to nod, and then remembered that she was still doing my hair, so instead I just said, “Yeah, okay.” In every year of high school it was mandatory for each student to provide a minimum of five hours of volunteer service.
As her fingers kept gently tugging and working through my hair, I was starting to become hyperaware of the pretty girl standing behind me. I felt little tingles running down my skin, but told myself it was just because people playing with your hair feels nice. It had nothing to do with the specific pair of hands weaving through my hair.
All of a sudden, someone turned on a radio, to a country station it seemed, and Maya started softly singing along to the song, her mouth somewhat close to my ear as she continued to braid. I was immediately struck by how lovely her voice sounded, and although I had never liked country music before, I was beginning to really enjoy the song. Maya kept singing and I kept feeling warm in my stomach, deep down wishing that the moment would never end, but not wanting to admit it to myself.
All too soon, I felt her hands leave my hair and heard the word “Done” as Maya spun the chair around to check out her handy work. She squinted her eyes a little and tilted her head, examining me. I couldn’t help but stare up at her face, and thought it was crazy how I’d never noticed how pretty she was before.
“Hold on,” she held up a finger, and briefly walked away, coming back with a big pink bow in her hand. “A little something to add the perfect finishing touch,” she smiled, leaning down to pin the bow to the top of my head, leaving her face just inches from mine. I subconsciously held my breath, taken aback by the sudden proximity. Then she was back to standing a foot away from me.
“Thanks,” I said shyly, standing up.
“Yeah, no problem,” she shrugged and walked away with a quick smile.
I didn’t really understand what had happened that day, but whatever happened made it impossible for me to get her off of my mind.
***
As hard I tried to push the image of the blonde haired girl out of my head, remembering what it felt like to have her fingers in my hair, I couldn’t. It didn’t help that the dreams had started only weeks after the encounter. Not every night, but more often than not, Maya Hart had appeared in my dreams – never really doing much, but she was always there, and I always woke up with a pleasant feeling in my stomach.
Each day I found myself keeping a particular eye out for the blonde haired girl, just wanting to see her face, knowing that I would get that warm rush again. It was an odd situation though, for many reasons, and I wasn’t sure what to make of what I was feeling.
The first and probably the most relevant reason as to why the situation was odd, was because I was a straight girl with a boy friend. Lucas Friar – aka Mr. Perfect, had been my boy friend since freshman year. Handsome, kind, smart, athletic – it was impossible to not like him. Dating Lucas had always felt comfortable and nice, but things started to feel a little different after that first time I talked to Maya. I still loved Lucas, in a way at least, but our relationship felt lacking, and I felt guilty for thinking about Maya so often, even though I tried to convince myself it was just because I would like to get to know her better, and maybe be her friend.
I had never had anything against gay people, or anyone for that matter, but my strange feelings for a girl I had hardly spoken to were starting to make me question myself, and it scared me. It scared me to think that maybe I didn’t know myself as well as I thought I did.
Sophomore year turned into Junior year, and Junior year turned into Senior year. Lucas and I shared a mutual breakup towards the end of Junior year, but swore we would remain friends, which we did for the most part. We didn’t talk much anymore, but we still smiled at each other in the hallways, and talked about class assignments here and there.
My feelings for Maya didn’t subside over the years like I thought they might. The odd brush of skin when we passed each other in a crowded hallway still sent me chills, and she still appeared in some of my dreams, a passive figure. In Senior year, she somehow managed to end up in five of my eight classes, which nearly killed me when I was forced to be in the same room as her, but not able to sit with her due to the seating arrangement. All I wanted was to talk to her. A few moments actually came up where I did speak with her again, like in math when I pretended I needed help with a question, and just asked her because it was easier than asking the teacher, to which he replied, “Sorry, I’m actually no good at math,” and gave me an apologetic smile. Or the time in PE when we were paired up for partner tag, where we had to hold each others’ hands. I remember how soft her skin was, and how nice it felt the way she squeezed my hand as we ran around the gym like idiots. During the game we strategized about who we should try to tag, and after we talked about how silly everyone looked running around holding hands. I felt like I was on top of the world.
“Riles? Riley?” Farkle’s voice behind me pulled me out of my reverie, and I blinked a couple times, getting back to reality.
“They’re going to be calling you up soon, and you looked kind of out of it.” He motioned to the stage where the principal was handing out diplomas in alphabetical order. Lucky for me, my best friend’s last name came right after mine, so we got to wait in the long line of students receiving their diplomas together.
“Thanks,” I smiled and patted his shoulder. As the principal called up the girl before me, stole one last glance at Maya, sitting with the other students who had already received their diplomas, a slight smile on her relaxed face. Who knew where she would be after high school? I was probably never going to see her again, just like many of the other students graduating that day.
Finally, my name was called and I walked up to the stage, focusing particularly on trying not to trip up the steps, shook the principal’s hand and was handed my diploma. I smiled out at the audience, mostly towards my goofy parents who were standing and cheering with Auggie, a giant camera around my father’s neck.
Goodbye high school, goodbye Maya.