Thicker Than Paper

Rejection

Gross and sticky. Taught and evil. Doubtful and embarrassing. Forever lasting in my memories. I rub my face, trying to rub it all away. I know it won't work, but I rub anyway. The crane is crumpled today, and I almost don't come. But I long for something normal. So I drop it in the water anyway. The wind howls as it sends it far away. The paper crane is gone now too. My fingertips burn with numbness.

~~~

I first got an idea when I was 14. The end of eighth grade. My first high school party, my first real dose of alcohol influence. My first hardcore game of truth and dare. I don't remember much, but I definitely remember it. George Filler's lips tasted like cheese puffs and bad beer. I loved it. I couldn't-of course-actually enjoy it. It was just a dare after all, and neither George nor I were gay.

But after that, I caught myself-more then a few times-enjoying the view of boys in the locker room, or just walking down the hallway. It became harder and harder to convince myself it was just hormones. But, I still liked girls and liked kissing girls. I still liked girls asses just as much as I liked looking at boys. So I told myself to knock it off, even when I knew what it was deep down inside. 

At the end of sophomore year, my baseball team went to a conference in Vegas. When we were sent to bed early to do what we please, the boys decided swimming in the hotel pool was not enough. They found an 18 and under club since a good majority didn't have fake I.D.'s on hand 24/7.

 Somehow, we got separated and I found myself talking to a hot boy with a tight shirt and dazzling blue eyes. When he whispered in my ear we could go to his hotel room, I shivered and nodded perhaps a little too quickly. My second kiss with a boy led to so much more.

I left his hotel room, convinced. The things we did just made it seem official. I was gay. Even if i still liked girls, I most definitely was gay. When I went back to my hotel room, the boys gave me shit for two days. Claiming I left them to hook up with some Vegas showgirl. I tried to convince them it wasn't a showgirl, but the waved me off and pranced around chanting: "Phoenix got a showgirl, Phoenix got a showgirl!" I ended up just smiling and slapping them on the back of the head. 

I didn't find a word for how I felt till I went home and watched some shows on Netflix. That's where I truly learned the word bisexual, and what went with it. It made my head dizzy, knowing that was it. I was bisexual. Just whispering the words on my lips made me smile. Bisexual. I liked girls and boys. 

I never came out to anyone, though, after I figured out a word for it. It didn't seem important. I still liked girls, and I was with Andrea. I could just fake it. It's easy enough to be straight. I had already done it for years. But that word lingered in the back of my mind whenever I found myself admiring a cute boy at the mall. The word lingered when I got nervous around other boys I didn't know. Bisexual. 

The wind seemed to whisper it in my ear when I realize who I was kissing. Oh my god. I was kissing straight Travis Dean. At a Christmas party. In T.J's backyard. It wasn't long after I touched his pink lips with my own did I realize what a mistake I had made. I gasped, pulling away so quick I nearly split my drink.

Travis sat there in a daze, his eyes foggy and eyebrows knitted together. His lips are parted in a away that makes me want to kiss him again. I immediately start to freak out, "Oh my god, Travis, I am so so sorry! I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry! It must be all the punch I've drank. Travis, I'm so so so-"

"It's okay," My mouth snapped shut, then fell back open. What did Travis just say? "I...It's okay. We're both pretty drunk. I understand. I... I mean..I guess I don't really understand. But it's okay." In the end, Travis is just mumbling to himself, his hand in a hand.

"Listen, Travis. I...I guess I never expected to come out like this. But," I wring my hands together. Coming out. I'm coming out to Travis Dean after I just attacked him, "I'm...I'm bi-Bisexual. And I know your straight, I've had too much of that punch for sure," I let out a weak laugh, as Travis looks up at me with a confused look. "I'm sorry I kissed you. I won't tell anyone if you won't tell anyone. I guess I want to come out to certain people myself, without them hearing it from some stupid Snap chat or something."

He doesn't say anything for a moment. Just gets up, and stares at me, "I won't. I won't tell anyone, I mean. That's your thing to do. And I'm way to drunk to out someone right now, I think."

He walks away without a goodbye. Maybe his promise to not out me is his goodbye. I lean back on the swinging couch, wishing it still swung. My cup feels cold in my hand, and the wind whispers it's laugh. Then I laugh. I just came out. Someone knows. Granted they know after I kissed them, but they know. 

I laugh harder. I just got rejected but I'm laughing. I'm laughing because I kissed Travis. I'm laughing because he didn't kiss me back. I'm laughing because I just came out top him. but I think I'm laughing the most because I'm bi.

I'm bisexual. Damn, it felt so good to say it.