"I want to give you all the love you deserve."
___
Hadley Carter has struggled with her sexuality ever since childhood. She keeps her feelings hidden out of fear of judgement and not being accepted by oth...
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I take my usual seat next to Bianca during gym. She wastes no time to ask questions about why I missed lunch earlier in the day. I answer her as vaguely as I possibly can. Before too long (and as expected) Bianca soon shifts the conversation to herself. I tune her out, keeping an eye out for Devon.
Devon appears a few moments later, her appearance making my heart race. I rise from my seat without a word, not bothering to tell Bianca where I'm going. I approach Devon with purpose, refusing to let my nerves get the best of me when I start to think about turning around.
Devon's eyes widen as I get closer. She falls still, as if allowing me to catch up to her. Soon enough, I'm standing before her.
"I want to talk to you," I blurt. "Alone."
Devon studies me, emotions rushing through her eyes, gaze inquisitive. She nods, gesturing for me to hold still before turning her back to me. I wait patiently as Devon walks over to our coach and exchanges a few words with him. He soon hands her a set of keys, proceeding to turn his attention to the rest of the class. Devon wanders back my way, signaling for me to follow her.
"How'd you do that?" I question, struggling to keep up with Devon's pace. I realize that she is quite a few inches taller than me, her long legs adding to her speed.
"Do what?" Devon asks neutrally.
"Get Coach Evans to let you leave class," I clarify. "Why do you get special treatment?" I'm teasing her, though I'm also curious to know the answer.
Devon offers a half-shrug. "He's my soccer coach too," she explains. "Sometimes he lets me run errands for him. I mentioned the papers he asked me to organize in his office last week. He said I could take the period to get that done."
"So you get to skip class to hang out in his office?" I'm slightly impressed by this information.
"Basically," Devon replies casually.
I watch with my arms crossed over my chest as Devon unlocks Coach Evans' office door. She lets me enter the small room first, flipping the lights on as she follows after me. The sound of the heavy door being closed echoes throughout the room. Goosebumps rise on my arms as the hair stands on end. This reaction is partially brought on by how drafty the room is, though also because I am alone with Devon.
I observe the office, surveying the trinkets Coach Evans has laying around the room. I take a seat on the corner of his desk as Devon tosses the keys into an empty chair, standing before me with her arms crossed.
"So," she murmurs, "you wanted to talk?"
I nod and tuck a few strands of blond hair behind my ear. I'm nervous, though I try not to allow the feeling to take control of my thought process. I clear my throat as I search for the words to get across what I want to say to Devon.
"I'm sorry," I settle on saying. "I've been a jerk to you. You were right the other day . . . I shouldn't have treated you the way I did. I'm sorry for running out on you. I'm sorry for assuming things before talking to you first. I'm sorry for ignoring you. I guess . . . I guess the truth is that I was scared."
