Once Upon a Time~ (A Kinda Lesbian Story)

Chapter Six

How many times have you heard the story about the knight in shinning armor? The story of the damsel in distress saved by the handsome knight and they fall in love. Happily ever after.

Love might not have been in the picture, but that cold day in November I had my own knight in shinning armor who saved me, the damsel in distress. After we left the scene, he brought me inside the school to a teacher bathroom where people would be less likely to walk in. As I mopped up my bloody face, I snuck peeks at the boy standing behind me. The whole time he simply stared at my face. His expression was a mixed pot of sympathy, seriousness, and something I could not recognize, something I eventually figured out was love.

Here he was, the boy who had that silly crush on me what seems like so many years before, with me in a bathroom as I fixed myself up. Stevie. As thoughts continued to run through my mind, I decided to start a conversation.

"Why did you help me?" I asked as I cleaned a cut on my arm.

"That's a silly question." Stevie replied with a vacant expression.

I smirked, "That's a silly answer."

To that a small smile appeared on his face, almost instantly replaced by a frown. "You do realize that they were beating you right? They could have really hurt you. I had to stop them."

I stopped cleaning and turned away from the mirror, now looking directly into Stevie's eyes. "You did not have to. You could have kept walking. You could have ignored it."

To that he simply shrugged, "I just saw a damsel that needed saved."

We then left the bathroom, somehow hand in hand, and walked to the nurses office with a fake playground accident story. Even when he was told that his assistance was no longer required, Stevie stayed next to my little cot until my father arrived to take me home.

When I arrived at school the next day, I was happy to find Stevie by my side. As we passed my bullies in the hall, though they unhappily stared, they did not move a muscle. I had found my very own body guard. Though I was extremely grateful for his friendship, I could not help but notice that he seemed to feel something different than I was. Whenever, I would peek over my shoulder, there he was looking at me. As time went on, he was always there for me. From the moment I stepped off of my bus to the moment I stepped back on.

Even though my memories of Michelle were still very much apparent, day by day I could feel them slipping away from me like water running through my fingers. I still loved her very much, but this opportunity of a new love seemed so promising. Here was this boy who had given me so much, protection and care. It was obvious how much he liked me, how much he could possibly love me. If I could only give him a chance. Michelle would understand why I had to let her go.

After this realization, I arrived at school on the last day before Christmas. Stevie was waiting for me, just outside the school. I stepped out of the large, yellow vehicle and took his hand. We walked around the building to the back, my memories of meeting Michelle began to surface. Three years later and the memory of her sweet cherry chapstick was as clear as the present. I closed my eyes and imagined her approving my decision. Somehow, it seemed more right if I had her approval. It was at that time I told Stevie about all of my experiences I had thus far. I told him about my first kiss with a boy, about all of the boys I "dated" during second grade, about Joshua liking boys, and about my relationship with Michelle and how it was much more than a silly elementary school friendship. While I told him these things Stevie did not seem to be shocked or disgusted. Instead he just kindly listened with almost no expression on his face. When I had finished I was nearly out of breath and was simply waiting for him to say anything at all.

"Aly." Stevie began to speak, "You do know it's not a bad thing to like girls?"

I looked away, for all I knew I did not like girls, maybe I only liked Michelle.

As if he could feel me pulling away, he spoke again, "I do not really understand why you are telling me all of this though."

I turned back to him and sighed, "I cannot help but wonder if I will ever like boys. But I do you that you have been so good to me, I was simply wondering if you would like to try to be boyfriend and girlfriend."

It was at those words Stevie's bright green eyes began to shine even brighter. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." I whispered, even though there was not one bone in my body that was sure about anything.

As he stepped closer to me I realized I did not want him to kiss me. I wished for Michelle to be back and for all of those feelings to be less confusing. Michelle felt right. I did not know how I felt with Stevie. But, to my surprise, Stevie did not kiss me. Instead he drew me into a huge bear hug. Though there was nothing particularly special about the hug, it provided me with warmth, and maybe a small part of me appreciated that Stevie was there for me.

After winter break, weeks turned into months and before we knew it summer was upon us. On the days my father had to work, I would often ride with him into town where I would meet Stevie at the library or the mall or the park and we would just walk around and talk. I enjoyed talking to him because Stevie was the best listener. I believed that Stevie could recite every word that I had told him a week earlier accompanied by his analysis of what he thought it meant. I realized much later in my life that Stevie was autistic and though he did not develop relationships well with other people, it made our connection that much stronger. Every once and awhile Stevie would bring me small gifts, a fake pearl key chain, small cubic zirconia necklace, each of these things I still treasure to this day.

Yes, those summer months were amazing. But before too long they were fading away and the approaching school year was upon us. Thankfully, Stevie and I were in the same class again. Though because our relationship had gone public the bullying was not as much as a problem. Still, I preferred to be with Stevie anyways. During this fourth grade year my passion for books erupted, many days after school Stevie would walk with me to the public library and simply watch me read with wonder. He said that I seemed to glow when I explored these far away worlds.

All was going well in my life and it seemed as though I had nothing to fear. Perhaps, this was happily ever with Stevie by my side for the rest of my life. A silly thought of course but I was afraid that something like Michelle would happen again. As fourth grade took its course my memories of Michelle were twisting into a made-up friendship and I convinced that what I felt for Stevie was love. Life does not require fireworks.