High Heels and Lipstick (23 page)

“Yeah, but nothing like what other people have gone through.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “Some places have support groups. I mean, like on college campuses and stuff, there are groups for people who've been sexually assaulted. I think some high schools have them too, but I don't know.”

I knew where she was going, but I pretended not to. “Ours doesn't.”

“It should, though.” She looked at me. “Maybe if we had a group like that, Maryellen wouldn't have done what she did. A group would be able to educate people not to be jackasses when someone's assaulted, and how to help them instead. And survivors would have other people to talk to if they're bullied or whatever.”

I didn't answer. She had some good points. Most people felt better if they knew they weren't alone. On the other hand, I didn't know if I wanted to sit around listening to other people's trauma when I was still struggling with my own.

I doubted there was any chance the school would let us have a support group anyway. Parents would probably freak if they found out about it, the same way a few parents had when the school first set up a Gay-Straight Alliance club. Even though the GSA kept the names of its members confidential so the kids who were in the club wouldn't get in trouble, some parents believed it promoted homosexuality instead of just being a safe place where students wouldn't be bullied for who they were.

“You're plotting, aren't you?” I said.

Holly nodded, though she looked uncertain. “I don't know whether it's something we should talk to the school about, but so many people have things like that happen to them, and some never tell anyone. I don't mean they would have to talk about it in the group, either, but if they went to meetings they might learn how to cope better even if they stay quiet about what happened to them. And learn how to support their friends. Like, not everyone in GSA is homosexual. Not everyone in a support group would have to be a survivor. They could just be people who want to support survivors and wants to find ways to keep this from happening.”

“Maybe.”

“Am I being pushy?” She took a sip of her ginger ale. “I mean, you look pissed off. I'm sorry if I should just shut up about this.”

“It's okay.” I smiled. “You want to help people. That isn't a bad thing. I just don't know whether the way you're thinking would actually be helpful. It might make things worse for some people.”

“I just kind of came up with it after Natalia talked to me. I didn't think it through.”

“It's okay,” I said again. “It might be a good idea, but some survivors probably wouldn't want to be part of the group. I don't know if I would, to be honest. After I talk to my counselor, I usually feel worse than when I went to the appointment. Talking in a group might be the same.”

She nodded. “I didn't really think about that. But like I said, it wouldn't have to be a place to talk about the assaults people have gone through. Probably it would be better if people weren't allowed to give details. They could just talk about, I don't know.” She paused. “How to cope with it. How to report it if something does happen. How to deal with bullying and victim-blaming. What to do if a friend tells you they've been assaulted. That kind of thing.”

As she talked, she started sounding more excited. Obviously this was really important to her. I didn't completely understand why, but if it made her happy to try to help others, I was okay with it.

That didn't mean I wanted to plan out an entire support group right then, though. We wouldn't have a whole lot of time alone before Mom got home, and I was more interested in finding out whether Holly and I were on the same page about our relationship.

“Can we talk more about it another time?” I asked. “Maybe you should do more planning first. Then you and I can talk about whether to go to the school with the idea.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “Sounds good. Or maybe I'll decide it wouldn't be worth talking to them, but you never know.”

“Right.”

We sat there without saying anything for a couple of minutes, until I felt too awkward to stay on the stool. I didn't even know why I was having so much trouble coming up with words. She and I had already said we were together. Asking her what that meant to her should have been simple, but I was a little afraid of what I might hear. I knew she planned to keep pretending to date Nathan, which meant I should be free to see guys if I wanted to. Not that I wanted to, but I liked having options.

I didn't know how to bring up any of that, though. When we'd talked at the mall, Holly had seemed upset about the idea of me seeing guys. Everyone knew I didn't do exclusivity, so she probably wasn't surprised. But I had the feeling she'd definitely been hurt.

I got off my stool and went back to the fridge. “Are you hungry? If we're going to tackle homework, maybe we need fuel.”

“I shouldn't eat anything.” She looked down at herself.

“Don't start the fat thing again, because I'll have to dump ginger ale on your head.” I went over to her. “You're pretty. You know you're pretty. Weight isn't everything. I know skinny girls who are total bitches that I wouldn't want anything to do with.”

“You're skinny,” she said.

“Yeah. It isn't a good thing. Lately when I try to eat, half the time I can't keep it down.” I leaned on the island. “Between last summer and all the bullying now, a lot of times I'm sick to my stomach. I don't do it on purpose. My counselor and I are working on it. It's anxiety, not an eating disorder or anything, and I really kind of hate it.”

She tilted her head. “I didn't know any of that.”

“Yeah, I don't exactly talk a lot about it.” I went back to the fridge. “So food? Carrots and ranch dip, maybe?”

“Yeah. Healthy.”

I arranged a bunch of baby carrots and a few spoonfuls of ranch dressing on a plate and brought it back to the island. So far, the homework we were supposed to be doing wasn't happening, and neither was going through my closet to see if there were any other clothes Holly might want.

I didn't want to do anything. I wanted to just sit there with Holly.

“So, awkward silence for the win.” Holly picked up a carrot and dabbed it in the dressing. “Um, I don't even know what to say.”

“I don't really either,” I said. “But look. We're seeing each other, right? That's how I'd like it to be. That's what we said Monday.”

“Yeah, except for the part where I can't bail on Nathan.” She hesitated. “And the part where you said you want to keep seeing guys.”

“I also said I haven't been seeing anyone since November,” I said.

“I know, but you could. And I can't exactly tell you not to, if I'm still pretending with Nathan.” She popped the carrot into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “I can't tell him. I mean, he trusted me to tell me about himself, but I'm afraid about people finding out. Especially my family. Everyone knows Evan and what people have done to him because he's gay. They're going to blame him for this or something.”

“I still think that's stupid, but I understand.” I did understand. I just didn't like the fact that people could be so backward. “I kind of don't want my parents or brothers to know either, honestly. I've been wrangling with them enough about the parts of my life they know about. I don't even have any clue what they might say about this. And at school, it would be even worse.”

“Exactly.” She hesitantly moved her hand closer to mine. “But that doesn't mean we aren't together. Just that we have to be careful when other people are around. Like Evan and Moe were before Moe came out.”

“Yeah.” I took her hand. “No one's around right now, though.”

She smiled, but it faded quickly, and she pulled her hand away. “Nope. But….”

I waited a few seconds. She didn't finish her sentence, but I had a pretty good idea of what was on her mind. “I like having sex. I don't make any secret out of that. But if someone doesn't want to, that's okay with me. Hugging and kissing are good.”

“I don't even totally know what to do.” Holly blushed. “Which sounds kind of stupid, but it isn't like with a guy. And I don't want to try to figure it all out at once. I mean, I haven't even kissed a girl before.”

I grinned. “So we'll keep practicing the kissing part until we're really good at it.”

I leaned toward her, and she leaned toward me, and our lips touched.

It was nothing like the unintended kiss at her house. I meant this one, and so did she. Her lips were soft and tasted a little like the ranch dressing.

She didn't open her mouth, so I kept mine shut too. With Holly, slow would be the way to go, and I was okay with that. I'd had plenty of time to party and fool around with guys, and unless Holly said otherwise, I still had that option.

I didn't want to make any promises to her, but I wasn't really interested in guys for the time being. Kissing her felt way more awesome than anything I'd done with any guys.

She pulled back and touched her upper lip with her tongue. “Yeah, I think I'm going to have fun practicing that.”

I laughed. “Yeah. Me too.”

“We should probably do our homework, though.”

“Yeah.”

We finished the carrots and took fresh glasses of ginger ale into the living room, where we sat on the floor and spread out our books. Our only conversation consisted of questions about the assignment and helping each other find the information we needed in the textbook.

That was okay. We didn't need to talk about much. We were sitting there together, me and the person I trusted most.

I wasn't about to kid myself into thinking I wouldn't have to deal with bullying and all that other stuff anymore. Some people were never going to accept that neither Maryellen nor I had deserved what Jim did to us, or that he had deserved the sentence he'd gotten. Maybe if Holly and I followed through on suggesting her support group plan to the school administration, and if they actually agreed to allow it, we would be able to teach some of the idiots not to blame other victims.

What people said didn't matter anymore, though. At least not right now, as I sat on my living room floor with Holly. She, Evan, and Guillermo, and maybe even El-Al, had my back. I'd realized having a lot of friends was pointless if I couldn't count on them. Having three or four friends I
could
count on was better.

And having a girlfriend who was happy to be with me in spite of what she knew about me, even if we couldn't tell anyone else we were seeing each other, was even better than that.

I wasn't alone. After my old so-called friends had turned on me, I'd believed I would be on my own, but I wasn't. And it felt good.

 

Nail Polish and Feathers

 

Deep Secrets and Hope:
Book One

 

By Jo Ramsey

 

Sixteen-year-old Evan Granger has no problems with being gay. Despite his mother's objections, he wears nail polish and makeup to school and pursues his goal of becoming a professional drag queen.

TV drag star Taffy Sweet gives encouragement and Evan's cousin Holly tries to protect him, but school bullies abuse him so badly because of his sexuality and the girly way he dresses that he ends up at the hospital emergency room. After that, even his new crush, a closeted football jock named Moe Garcia, is unhappy about Evan's choice to live his life openly gay. But even in girly clothes and nail polish, Evan is a force to be reckoned with, and he soon shows the bullies—and everyone else—that beating a drag queen up does not mean the queen is beaten down.

 

http://www.harmonyinkpress.com

F
OR
a minute there, I believed I would actually make it out of school without incident. Holly and I had almost reached the main door when someone shoved me from behind. “Get out of the way, queer!” a male voice sneered.