I'm Not Gay Page 3

it, it’s kind of disgusting actually. Like a girl kissing a girl? That’s not how the world was meant to be. You can’t get married and have kids with a girl. Like how would that even work?”

  “I’m not sure,” I choked out.

  “Exactly, it’s just not right. I have nothing against like people who are like that but I think they’re mostly confused, like you.”

  “Right.”

  “But I know you’ll figure it out. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, okay? If you want, we can talk about it more then.”

  “Alright.” I hung up the phone without waiting for a proper goodbye. Isabelle looked at me with so much pity that I hated her. I snatched my hand from her grip.

  “Melaina,” she cooed.

  “Don’t.” I was crying and I was sure my nose was pink. “I told you I was bad with rejection.” I let out a weak laugh before allowing myself to break down into a sob. Isabelle wrapped her arms around me and I leaned into her.

  “I’m so sorry Mel. She did more than reject you. She rejected who you are.”

  “It’s just a phase,” I mumbled.

  “Maybe, maybe not. Regardless, it wasn’t her place to say things like that.” I felt numb. I quickly wiped my face and sat up. “You okay?” I nodded and smiled as best as I could. I took a strand of Isabelle’s hair into my fingers.

  “Maybe you should curl your hair.”

  I had successfully avoided Beth until the end of the semester. I would walk away when I saw her coming near, I stopped talking whenever she was earshot, I even went to the extent of explaining the situation to Mrs. Stefansen just so that she would change my seat as far from Beth as possible. Maybe it was cruel to cut all ties from Beth without giving her a proper explanation but honestly, I didn’t have an explanation. Just the thought of being near her put a taste of dread in my mouth. It definitely didn’t help that I was moving and would be attending a new school in the 2nd semester with no friends or even a familiar face to cling to.

  Winter Break brought this blissful torture onto me that left me so confused I would stay in bed until 2 in the afternoon even if I had been awake since 10 a.m. It’s not that I couldn’t get up, I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to. The main words that bounced around in my head were: it’s kind of disgusting actually.

  Was that her way of indirectly calling me disgusting? It had to be, right? If I like the idea of being a girl that had to mean that I was disgusting and desiring a disgusting lifestyle. Maybe Beth was right about it being a phase. If it’s just a phase then I’ll move past it and be okay. I like boys anyway. I’ve always liked boys. So I can’t like girls too. It had to be either one or the other because otherwise it’s just confusing. Maybe I was confused. I had a beautiful, close friend and confused my appreciation of friendship for attraction. That had to be it, right? I hadn’t liked a girl before Beth and even if I liked girls it had to be just a phase. But what if it wasn’t? What if I really did like girls? Who else would see me as revolting and turn away from me? How many sleepovers will I automatically not be invited to? How many people would treat me differently? How many girls will inch away from me or take my kindness as flirting and reject me? How many guys will try to talk me out of being myself because they knew how to fix my confusion? How will my family treat me once I tell them?

  These thoughts as well as a 101 others stabbed at my heart and head until I had depressed myself and made skipping breakfast a regularity. I only knew how gays were treated in movies, bad movies at that. But if those movies spoke any truth, I didn’t want to endure being a lesbian girl in high school.

  Of course, when I was able to pull myself out of my room, a smile was pasted on my face, I emptied my mind, and I acted as normally as possible so not to alarm my family. But the moment I once again entered my chamber of thoughts, I found myself lying on the floor staring at the ceiling until I saw the moment the sun peered into my room and I forced myself to get into bed and attempt to get some sleep.

  One morning after Christmas, my blanket was yanked from my body and I tumbled to the floor. I looked up to see an angry Isabelle standing over me. “So you are alive,” she said. She threw my blanket onto my bed and opened the curtains allowing the sun to bombard my eyes. I hissed involuntarily and glared at Isabelle with my one awake eye.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “Your mom said I could sleep over for a few days.”

  “You didn’t ask me if I wanted you to come over.”

  “Maybe I would have if you hadn’t spent the entire break ignoring my calls.” Isabelle looked me over and I shifted suddenly self-conscious that I hadn’t showered in a week. “You look awful.”

  “Well, I don’t feel too hot either.”

  “Melaina, I’m sure keeping yourself miserable like this is unhealthy.”

  “I love how you talk like I’m just deciding to be unhappy.”

  “You’re deciding to stay in a dark room all day. Your environment has an impact on your mood, that’s basic sociology.”

  “You mean psychology?” I stood and stretched a bit before going to close the curtains.

  “Whatever it is you need to go outside, get some sun and air, take a shower.” I sat on my bed.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “Sorry but I could smell you outside of your door.” I pulled my blanket over my head.

  “Just leave me alone.”

  “After you shower.”

  “I don’t want to! Get out!”

  “I wasn’t asking.” Isabelle pulled me out of bed by my legs and began dragging me into the hall. I kicked and thrashed but Isabelle had a good grip.

  “What’s going on?” Jason asked as he stared at us from his doorway.

  “Just help me get her into the bathtub,” Isabelle said. Jason paused and then lifted me up by my arms.

  “You traitor,” I hissed. I was dropped roughly into the bathtub.

  “Hold her down,” Isabelle said. As my struggling against Jason become tired the more aggressive the words in my mouth came out. My list of unpleasant words were interrupted by a cold shot of water slapping my face.

  “What the hell?” I yelled. Isabelle aimed the shower head at my feet.

  “Are you mad?” Isabelle asked. I responded with my middle finger. She sprayed more water into my face. “Are you mad?”

  “Yes,” I growled.

  “Finally! Another emotion besides depression!” Isabelle turned off the water and Jason backed out of the bathroom. I wiped water away from my face.

  “That was the purpose of this? To make me angry?” Isabelle leaned against the sink.

  “Yes. And it worked. You can thank me later.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” I mumbled.

  “It’s better than being miserable all day. Look at you! You look more alive already!”

  “Whatever.”

  “Melaina look.” Isabelle sat on the edge of the tub and in her eyes I could see how terrible I looked. Imagine a homeless, whimpering, wet kitten. That kitten was me. “Beth’s words were rude and mean but you can’t dwell on them forever.”

  “I know.”

  “Good. And you know, no one cares if you like girls --”

  “I don’t like girls.” I hugged my knees. “And it’s not because of Beth. I just can’t see myself with a girl. It’s too weird. I don’t like girls.”

  “You sure about that?” I nodded. “Okay. Just take a shower. The sooner you look better, the sooner you’ll feel better.” Isabelle gave me a weak smile and left the bathroom. With each layer of clothes I peeled off, I decided to peel away my attraction to girls.

  I showered and put on sweats and a t-shirt. Isabelle played hairdresser and Jason made me soup without me asking him to. When I looked in the mirror, I saw that Isabelle curled my hair and I was wearing a scowl on my face. I forced my lips into a smile and chuckled at how my smile complimented the curls in my hair. Isabelle was right, I felt better, even with the new bags under my eyes.

  I stared
directly into my eyes. “I am Melaina Roberts, and I am straight.” I sighed. I wasn’t convincing. “I am Melaina Roberts, and I am straight. I am straight. I do not like girls. I am straight.” I don’t know how many times I repeated those words to myself. I just knew if I said it enough, it would be true.

  I was the first one in class once school started again. The teacher seemed nice enough. The bell rang and other kids began filing into the classroom. The tables were set up to fit two people per table and for a while it seemed as if I was sitting alone until a boy with bored eyes sat next to me seconds before the bell rang. I introduced myself and he turned towards me like he just realized I was there. “Ryan,” he said and turned back to the front.

  Ryan didn’t speak much, unless it was to Jamie, the pretty girl who sat at the table behind us. I thought they were dating until Jamie said something about her boyfriend who “knows like absolutely nothing about romance”. I tried not to listen in but it was hard when you sat next to the worst whisperers in the world.

  I went through the day with uninterested politeness and was relieved to see that Web Design was my last class of the day. Web Design was a blow off class if you just did your work when you needed to. I was seated at a computer in the back of the room next to a boy in an oversized highlight orange hoodie and a boy with snow white hair (after many glances, I realized he was wearing a wig).

  “Hey are you new?” asked hoodie boy.

  “No,” I answered. “I’ve just been invisible to you all year.”

  “Like Jack Frost!” shouted the white-haired boy.

  “Okay?” I said.

  “Well, I’m Jack and that’s Seth,” said hoodie boy.

  “Melaina.”

  “Are you usually this quiet?” asked Jack.

  “Am I being surveyed? What’s up with all the questions?”

  “Sorry. Just trying to be friendly.” I looked over Jack. He seemed genuine. He smiled and I suddenly felt bad for being so mean.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just don’t like being questioned.” Jack nodded understandingly and I couldn’t help but smile. Something radiated off of him that made you just want to hug him as if he was a giant teddy bear yet punch him in the face.

  “We’re usually seen as weird,” said Seth. I glanced at his wig.

  “You don’t say?” I said. Seth shrugged. “Okay I have to ask. What’s up with the wig?”

  “I’m Jack Frost!” Seth pointed at his hoodie covered in snowflakes.

  “Right.” I was sitting next to weird anime, cosplay freaks. Perfect. I glanced at the clock 5 minutes until the bell rang. “Hey do either if you know where I can find room 220?”

  “Yes,” said Jack. “Why?”

  “There’s a club that I’m interested in there.”

  “Is it Writing Club?”

  “Yes…”

  “Awesome!” shouted Seth. “We’re headed there after class too! You can walk with us.”

  “Yay,” I mumbled.

  I walked into the room to find maybe 7 people. It was too late for me to turn back so I took a seat. A short boy was standing at the front ineffectively demanding the attention of the room. A loud whistle silenced the room. “Alright,” said the short boy. “It seems we have a new member.” He gestured his hand towards me and cheers filled the room. “What’s your name?”

  “Melaina.” Another round of cheers.

  “I’m Alex,” announced the short boy. One by one, everyone went around the room announcing their names. Then they were released to do as they pleased.

  “Melaina,” called Seth who welcomed himself to the seat next to me. “You’re straight right?”

  “Yes,” I said defensively.

  “Great now could you please look at this boy and tell Ethan that he is beautiful?” I looked at Seth’s laptop and nodded.

  “He is pretty hot,” I laughed. “Why are you guys talking about that?”

  “Because he’s gorgeous!”

  “Yeah but are you like gay or something?” I laughed again.

  “Well I am but Ethan likes to dip in both