tomboy - j.b.

seven

justin

seeing shayla the way im seeing her right now, i regret bringing it up. girls usually go to their mom to talk about stuff and she doesn't have her mother physically there for her.

i wasn't sure if i should approach her but in the state she's in, she needs someone. i walk over to the grave she was bent down at, ignoring the mud splashing up on my pants, i then bend down in the grass and pulled her close to me.

her tears on her face were mixed in with the rain drops that are still falling. "babe, talk to me." i say softly.

she sighs, looking up at me. "i used to be called a dyke in high school. when you said it, it like triggered memories, but you're my best friend, i thought you would've known."

silently, i felt like a shitty best friend. "im sorry." i say, barely audible.

she was silent, just staring at the tombstone. "my mom used to tell me not to care what others think or say. whatever they said wasn't relevant."

i stared at her as she talked. "we had this white neighbor, he was an old grumpy man. i was twelve at this time, and he had a grandson that was fourteen and we used to hang out. h-he told me he liked me as in crush then everyone in my school called me lesbian and i was only in middle school. he started to join in with the name calling and we never talked after that."

she sighed again, with red and teary eyes she looks up at me. "if i was lesbian, justin, i would've told you, but im not. and stop assuming."

grabbing her hand, i sigh. "i know, but i just see you staring at so many girls it just seemed like it. i did-"

i noticed her shake her head, then she sniffled. "babe, what's wrong?" i make her look at me.

"everyone is so quick to judge." she groans. "i don't stare at girls, i stare at their clothes and how they dress."

as soon as she said it a wave of realization hit me. "i feel so stupid." i mumble. "im so-"

"im this way because im insecure. ever since i hit puberty and started gaining weight i started getting insecure. boy clothes didn't look ridiculous on me as much as girly clothes did and the style just stuck. plus 'boy clothes' are comfortable. dressing like i did also got me closer to boys even the ones i liked. but they thought i was gay too so it was no use. i stare at those girls because i want to be them, be able to wear clothes like they do without feeling like everyone is judging me and what i look like. especially the white girls. they prance around with their long beautiful hair every white boy running after them. even the black boys."

i didn't say anything, i pulled her closer to me, and hugged her to my chest. there were no words spoken, it was just me, her, and her mother, listening to the sound of the rain. "sing me a song." shayla looks up at me.

"what song?" my voice was hoarse. as i clear my throat, a song pops in my head, "i have one."

after getting comfortable, i open my mouth to start singing softly.

"across the ocean, across the sea, starting to forget the way you look at me now. over the mountains, across the sky, need to see your face, i need to look in your eyes.."

her smile against my neck made me smile as i sang, realizing that im falling for her more than i should be. i shouldn't even be falling for her.

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double update because my fellow melanins need a confidence boost. black is beautiful :) we are beautiful.