The Coordinates of New York

Chapter One

So yes, this whole "falling in love with a girl" thing, does mean that I am gay.
Lesbian.
Queer.
Homosexual.
Possibly even stupid. Any other word that you can think of that means that I am a girl who fell hopelessly in love with another girl.

    I always knew it deep down, but it started to surface when I was in eighth grade. I didn't really think much of it, other than the fact that I had a silly crush on a girl named Destiny, who was a grade ahead of me. Back then, I thought she broke my heart. I thought that was what a true broken heart felt like, until things ended with Alivia. That's when I learned the true pain of having your heart severely damaged.

    I came out to my single mom and my older brother when I was thirteen years old. They were both very supportive, more than I could have ever asked for. I always thought that my mom wouldn't be supportive, because of her saying things such as "marriage should be between a man and a woman," and "I really did not want to see that," referring to two men or women kissing or another display of physical affection in public. She actually had those feelings regarding the subject, until she realized long before I did that I was attracted to the same gender as myself. She learned to be accepting far before I even asked for her acceptance.

    My older brother, Daniel, knew a few people who were "like me," which made him more understanding. We weren't necessarily sheltered as children, but we never really spoke of gay people in our household, unless it was my dad dropping some nasty comment prior to him abandoning us. Growing up in a public school district, there are bound to be some gay people, whether it's a large or small school. However, they weren't always treated well. My brother normally spoke out against bullying at school assemblies, using his popularity to do some good for our school; I should really thank him for that.

    I've had a few negative reactions, but I assume that's normal. After I first came out, I got some serious backlash. I was shoved up against a locker, called your typical offensive words like "dyke," told that I was an abomination by negatively religious people, but nothing too serious. I haven't been severely damaged by anyone, yet; physically, at least.

    After meeting that girl in the cafeteria, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I felt a rush of nerves every time I caught a glimpse of her, even if she was only walking by. She seemed to always be caught up in her thoughts, somewhere else, always reading her books and closing out the rest of the world by falling deeply into the words of a different author everyday. I don't think I'd ever been more infatuated with a human being in all my life.

    It's hard to pinpoint why I became so interested in her, after just one conversation with her. I didn't even know her name at the time, though I later found out that it was Alivia.

"Hey," I approached her the next day in the same spot, reading a new book this time, titled The Bell Jar, by an author I'd never heard of. I later found out that the author of this book, Sylvia Plath, committed suicide at the age of 30 by shoving her head into a burning oven.
"I forgot to catch your name yesterday."

She smiled at me.
"It's Alivia, spelled with an A instead of an O," she said. She was wearing a black and white cardigan with a pattern on the sleeves, black jeans with a hole in the left knee, and the same combat boots from the previous day. She really knew how to dress, and she always looked incredible.

"I'm Skylar, or Sky, for short," I started, looking into her eyes. "most people think that it's a guys name, but I don't really think that names should be gender based, y'know? Why can't they all be neutral?"

This seemed to please her.
"I know exactly what you mean. The feminism movement, the one that wants equality for all genders, is completely brilliant," she exclaimed. She seemed really interested in this, so I pretended to know more about it than I actually did.