Now is a Scary Word

Chapter 3

Jodie and Katherine approached their street. As their conversation came to a close, Katherine smiled and said, "Jodie, seriously, thank you so much for agreeing to come to this party. I know we're going to have the time of our lives!" She hugged her friend, waved, and headed up towards her driveway. Jodie, now alone, was able to reflect on what had occurred. She had agreed to go to a party of over 100 teenagers who were going to get drunk out of their mind and... no. Jodie realised what she was doing and shut it down. She, without failure, after making any kind of commitment, doubted herself. No matter how big or small the commitment was, she always had immediate regrets and anxious thoughts about what she had just complied to do. For example, Jodie has never been able to really, listen to music. She would find a singer or band, decide 'Hey, I really like them', then, every single time, would have this moment a few days later of 'No, I can't listen to this. I shouldn't be doing this', and stops listening to them and completely avoids them from there on out. She had never found anyone with the same issue, and it really scared her. Why couldn't she just allow herself to like something? Why did she always feel guilty about listening to certain music? She had tried every genre; rock and roll, rhythm and blues, hip hop, rap, punk rock, basic pop, instrumental- nothing! It was the same feeling every single time of 'I shouldn't be listening to this'. 'Oh well', she thought, 'just another aspect that will drive potential partners out of my life'. She briskly concluded her walk, pacing up her drive and towards the front door. She unlocked it and stepped inside the comfort of her own home. Jodie always felt safest when she was at home; maybe it was just a product of how introverted she was. She made her way up the hallways to her bedroom. The floor was scattered with drawings, threads, scraps of fabric and paint splatters. No matter how hard she tried, she simply could not keep her room clean. The mess always creeped from one corner in particular. It was the corner with her sewing machine and craft table. It was her absolute favourite place to spend time. She felt that no matter what she was feeling, it could be turned into some sort of art, whether that'd be a drawing or a beautifully hand crafted doll outfit.

Jodie plopped herself down in the rickety wooden chair that sat facing the table. She retrieved her pencil before flinging her bag over the back of the chair. She was in the mood for drawing. Jodie reached down and grabbed some paper from the tray under the desk. She lay it out in front of her and stopped. She had always wanted to draw something more... romantic, so to speak. However, her brain had always categorised these thoughts as dirty and unwanted, and pushed them aside. Today, Jodie felt stronger. She felt like she should be able to draw something like that; that there wasn't anything inherently wrong with that. It had seemed as if Katherine's invitation to a party had awoken something within Jodie that she couldn't quite put her finger on. With a flick of the pencil, Jodie began to draw. As she often did while drawing, her mind wandered off. She began thinking about guys, and how literally every single guy at her school seemed to think with their so called 'nether regions'. All they wanted was sexual contact, and never wanted to actually have a relationship. She sighed. All her friends in her friend group had gotten to at least third base with their current or ex boyfriends, most border-lining or getting to fourth. Jodie would be lying if she said that she never felt pressured to go further, not that she'd ever been in a relationship. She, being the hopeless romantic she was, would always think of guys she deemed to be perfect. Long hair, a beard, tattoos, piercings were some of the main superficial elements of guys that drove her crazy. However, the one thing that Jodie knew would overtake any and all looks, would be if the guy was a true gentleman. Just the thought made her heart flutter. A guy that would ask before he acted, check up to see if their partner is ok, a guy that would respect, love and treasure their partner, and never take a romantic moment lightly. There were, of course, celebrities that Jodie had thought were attractive. She had read all the fan fictions and inevitably, they got her "excited". I mean, who wouldn't get turned on by their current hottest celeb whispering their name? But in all the excitement of reading those stories, Jodie was pulled quickly back down from her high when she realised that those people aren't the type of people she would want to date in any capacity. All of these people were extroverted and confident, and she knew that those personality traits would seriously clash with hers. That is of course without mentioning that these people were all at least 5 years older than her, and way out of her league.

Jodie chortled to herself. She was aware that it was ridiculous to think the thoughts she did. She had always comforted herself with the thought that 'the right guy will come eventually'. Jodie couldn't stop her thoughts from dancing in the clouds though. It was just part of her personality. She drew her pencil away from the page to inspect what she had drawn so far. It was two people, intertwined in each other's arms, mouths intensely locked together. Both were gripping one another in pure love and ecstasy. It didn't take her long to realise that the people she had drawn were her and... another woman. The discovery threw her off guard. She had relied on art for years to convey her true feelings and emotions. When she felt sad but could not determine why, she would draw subconsciously. The resulting image would be what she truely felt upset by, whether that be friends, school or dysmorphia. But today, when she set the goal of drawing something "romantic", she had come up with herself and another female. Jodie softly placed her pencil down and stood up. She gazed over the drawing, attempting to decipher what should be done. She wasn't going to lie, it was a beautifully drawn piece of artwork. The faces, the hands, the hair, it was all phenomenal. But, what would her parents think if she left it out? 'I'm not gay... I know that... 'she thought.

In a fit of confusion and fear, she snatched the picture off the desk and shoved it into the wooden box that lay agar at the foot of her bed. Jodie nervously ran her fingers through her hair, allowing it to then fall messily atop her now sweaty forehead. She placed herself on the edge of her bed and rested her hands on her lap. Releasing a large breath, Jodie laid back, barely missing the cold wall behind her. Her eyelids pulled themselves closed over her eyes. She laid there for some time, just pondering various thoughts, none particularly useful or interesting. Her brain was trying as hard as it could to force the memory of that drawing away forever. Rushes of guilt, self hatred and disgust surged through her again and again as the thought continued to fire in her mind. Through all of this, Jodie screamed at her brain in an attempt to convince herself that this was just a fluke, and that she had never had any feelings that even slightly correlated with it, however this was not in fact true. She knew she had had these types of thoughts and ideas before; year six was her first recalled memory, but she would not let herself remember that. As far as Jodie knew, it was not allowed, and never would be allowed or accepted to even contemplate the thought of liking the same gender, let alone actually pursuing a relationship. She would be practically torn apart by her mother if she found that drawing. 'What if it means something?', 'Why did I draw that?', 'What am I going to do?'; were the only thoughts that her startled and spinning head could muster. Jodie felt a warm, wet droplet of frustration leak from her eye. She promptly wiped it away and sat up, causing her head to hurt even more than it already did. She had heard the garage door rising. 'Just go out there and act like nothing happened,' she said to herself, 'that is the best way to forget any of this happened at all.'