Call It What You Want To

Chapter 16: Kyler

I was wrapped up in Taya's bed, Mila and Maverick making themselves comfortably wedged and twisted in between Taya and me. The movie 22 Jump Street was playing on her TV, and we were only half watching it, mostly focused on each other more. It also took both sets of eyes (three if you counted Mav's) to make sure Mila didn't roll off the bed.

In the last two hours, there had been no label put on whatever Taya and I were. There were no labels and no pressure, we were just us. Our thought process was that if anyone asked if we were dating, we could say "no" and it wouldn't be a lie. The people we were closer to (mostly Taya's inner circle of friends) we could be more "ourselves" around, but the way we saw it there were no rumors that could brew around us.

I showed Taya the video that was posted from the meet Saturday, and she agreed that if it got back to my mom it could be a problem, but the goal was just to keep our actual social media out of it and hope for the best. It was a perk that we had of both flying under the radar at school, it could mean that we were in the clear for a while. Taya even changed her social media profiles from public to private, just to make sure that we were safe. I didn't even ask her to do that. "Just a precaution," she had told me, lightly squeezing my hand.

PDA was something that we knew we were gonna have an issue with, especially after this past weekend when we were so touchy-feely. I really just loved having Taya near me, and she would latch on to me like a little koala bear. She was also very much for the idea of me cuddling into her, which was what we were doing for the first part of the movie, and I'll be honest: being the more masculine girl and still getting the "princess treatment" was the literal best. There's the stereotype that the more masculine girl is the "dude" in the relationship, but that's not the point at all. The whole purpose of being in a lesbian relationship is that we're both girls.

Feeling Taya run her nails up and down my back while my head rested in her lap was the closest to comfort I'd felt since I was probably younger than Milana. I can't remember the last time anyone did this for me.

It was a little awkward when Mr. Beckett came in and saw us tangled up with each other, but thank God all clothes were on or it would've been so much weirder (Not that we had even talked about or considered being less than clothed). His eyes widened before he smiled, not mentioning us at all as he handed over Mila to us, saying that Mila had too much energy for his office right now. I'm not sure where that was coming from because Mila was currently sleeping on Maverick's belly in between Taya and me. After that all happened, I had looked over at Taya with a little bit of concern that her parents might be on to us.

"They already were, but they're not gonna be an issue. My dad talks to middle aged dudes all day who really don't wanna discuss what their teenage daughters are, or are not, doing, and my mom doesn't care what we do as long as we're still available to watch Mila," Taya explained before she tilted my chin up with her finger. "I promise, we're gonna be okay," she reassuringly whispered, holding out the pinkie on her other hand. I grinned and interlocked my pinkie with hers before getting comfortable back in my position between her legs, feeling Taya kiss the top of my head as she massaged my back.

I liked this, but I knew it couldn't last forever. I tried my hardest to not say it earlier, but I was so in love with Taya. I was okay with keeping things private, but I didn't wanna stay a secret forever. Every now and then, I wanted to be able to take my girlfriend out in public and make it clear that we were together. I wanted to be able to kiss her in the hallways and let it be known we were together, and not just leave things up to speculation. The thing was, we weren't girlfriends yet. We were together and exclusive, but we didn't put a label on it for the sake of keeping things from my mom. We were, but also weren't, anything.