first place. Yes, she’d made the blunder that’d gotten us to where we were now, but she seemed to realize the ramifications of her actions and was now genuinely trying to make the best of it.
She sent me home with a link to the pilot episode of that show she wanted me to watch, and once I’d gotten through dinner with my parents – which had become much more stressful over the past couple of days now that I was keeping a massive secret from them – I headed to my bedroom and forced myself to start the show. It was like Sarah’d described: six women in California were gay and did gay things and had gay drama. But it kind of sucked me in, honestly. By the end of the first episode I considered watching the second, but then I realized I was about to get sucked into a show explicitly for and about and probably by lesbians, and I couldn’t get past that mental block.
My phone went off on my nightstand just as I was setting my laptop aside. I had one new text message from an unknown number. It said: “ So here is something random, and u don’t know me. U should get ur shit together and go out with me.”
I stared as I tried to make sense of the less-than-intelligent string of words, and when they finally sank in, my grip tightened on the phone and I resisted the urge to reply. Instead, I scrolled down my contact list until I came to Jake’s number, and then debated only for a moment before I pressed the button to call him.
He sounded a little sleepy when he picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Jake. It’s Katie.” I laid back on my bed and stared up at my bedroom ceiling as I asked him, “Did I wake you up?”
“It’s fine; I was just taking a nap. Is everything okay?”
“Not so much.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “Some idiot got my cell number, so I’m getting harassed from the safety of my own bedroom now, which is lovely.”
“I’m sorry, Katie,” said Jake. “All I can say is that you have to focus on the good. Your friends all still love you, right? A lot of people that come out can’t say that.”
“But what am I supposed to do about everyone else? I have to spend every day with people staring and making comments and sending stupid anonymous texts to me about how I need to get my shit together and go out with a guy? How do you deal with it?”
“You need to start blocking numbers, honey,” he told me. “That’s the only thing you can do about the texts. For the people at school… you can only do what the rest of us do: Learn to be snarky, get a thick skin, and hope it gets better. People react to girls and guys differently though when we come out. Someone like Jessa could probably give you better advice than me.”
“I don’t think she likes me,” I admitted. “She was a little cold at the first meeting.”
“She just takes some time to warm up to new people,” he said. “Give her until next Tuesday, when we all meet up again. And look, Katie, try to remember that you’re really lucky. A lot of us don’t have someone by our side when we come out. You have Sarah. Just being there for each other is gonna help both of you out a lot. I mean, imagine if you were alone in all of this.”
“Yeah,” I told him faintly, thinking that even after just one day of faking being gay and of having Sarah by my side throughout it all, it was easy to see why so many other gay kids wound up clinically depressed. Sarah had thought it’d be easy to be a lesbian, and while I’d had the presence of mind to know this wouldn’t be easy, I’d had no idea it’d be this hard. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.” I said. “Bye.”
“Bye, Katie.”
I didn’t see him the next day, and that turned out to be one of many of in a string of disappointments I experienced that day. It started with small stuff: Annie, the girl I sometimes exchanged hellos or waves with in the hallway when we’d pass each other on our way to class, decided that our new tradition was that I’d wave and she’d
She sent me home with a link to the pilot episode of that show she wanted me to watch, and once I’d gotten through dinner with my parents – which had become much more stressful over the past couple of days now that I was keeping a massive secret from them – I headed to my bedroom and forced myself to start the show. It was like Sarah’d described: six women in California were gay and did gay things and had gay drama. But it kind of sucked me in, honestly. By the end of the first episode I considered watching the second, but then I realized I was about to get sucked into a show explicitly for and about and probably by lesbians, and I couldn’t get past that mental block.
My phone went off on my nightstand just as I was setting my laptop aside. I had one new text message from an unknown number. It said: “ So here is something random, and u don’t know me. U should get ur shit together and go out with me.”
I stared as I tried to make sense of the less-than-intelligent string of words, and when they finally sank in, my grip tightened on the phone and I resisted the urge to reply. Instead, I scrolled down my contact list until I came to Jake’s number, and then debated only for a moment before I pressed the button to call him.
He sounded a little sleepy when he picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Jake. It’s Katie.” I laid back on my bed and stared up at my bedroom ceiling as I asked him, “Did I wake you up?”
“It’s fine; I was just taking a nap. Is everything okay?”
“Not so much.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “Some idiot got my cell number, so I’m getting harassed from the safety of my own bedroom now, which is lovely.”
“I’m sorry, Katie,” said Jake. “All I can say is that you have to focus on the good. Your friends all still love you, right? A lot of people that come out can’t say that.”
“But what am I supposed to do about everyone else? I have to spend every day with people staring and making comments and sending stupid anonymous texts to me about how I need to get my shit together and go out with a guy? How do you deal with it?”
“You need to start blocking numbers, honey,” he told me. “That’s the only thing you can do about the texts. For the people at school… you can only do what the rest of us do: Learn to be snarky, get a thick skin, and hope it gets better. People react to girls and guys differently though when we come out. Someone like Jessa could probably give you better advice than me.”
“I don’t think she likes me,” I admitted. “She was a little cold at the first meeting.”
“She just takes some time to warm up to new people,” he said. “Give her until next Tuesday, when we all meet up again. And look, Katie, try to remember that you’re really lucky. A lot of us don’t have someone by our side when we come out. You have Sarah. Just being there for each other is gonna help both of you out a lot. I mean, imagine if you were alone in all of this.”
“Yeah,” I told him faintly, thinking that even after just one day of faking being gay and of having Sarah by my side throughout it all, it was easy to see why so many other gay kids wound up clinically depressed. Sarah had thought it’d be easy to be a lesbian, and while I’d had the presence of mind to know this wouldn’t be easy, I’d had no idea it’d be this hard. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.” I said. “Bye.”
“Bye, Katie.”
I didn’t see him the next day, and that turned out to be one of many of in a string of disappointments I experienced that day. It started with small stuff: Annie, the girl I sometimes exchanged hellos or waves with in the hallway when we’d pass each other on our way to class, decided that our new tradition was that I’d wave and she’d
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