No body, no crime (I did it)

Chapter 1: Small Town

People like us had always stood out in our small town. I remember years ago, one night when I was eating dinner at Este's, a whispered conversation between Este's parents. I couldn't make out most of the details, but I could see the visible disgust in Este's parents' face as they talked about the next-door neighbour. The words "gay" and "homosexual" were completely forbidden. Taboo, even. They couldn't be thrown around young girls like Este and me. So I only caught glimpses of them, hushed between adult conversations, careful not to spill them before us. I didn't know what those words meant, but I knew what they meant to our townspeople. Pariahs, disgust, scandal. One thing I knew before anything else I could learn by my own means was that it was wrong, that it was something you couldn't be. And if you were, You. Better. Hide. It.

***

Este and I had been best friends since we were in kindergarten. I envy people who can remember those first days at school, when you're short of 4 years old, and can easily detail how they started their lifelong friendships. Sometimes, they start with a child lending their favorite toy to another kid, instantly starting their friendship that'll last for years. Other times, people tell the story about how there was this kid who defended them from a childish fight (who got more time with the class-favorite teddy bear), and how they ended up being lovers, years later. But I don't have that kind of story. My memories from kindergarten are as hazy as my mornings before I've had my first cup of coffee. Nothing. Nada.

But I do remember the feeling of knowing someone your whole life, and considering that person an extension of yourself. When we were in sixth grade, Este and I got into exploring the grounds around the school. We escaped during lunchtime, after a quick bite of our meal, and came back covered in mud. Our teachers told us off together, sent us home together. They even got us mixed up in the hallways. If you stood there long enough, you could always catch a glimpse of four mudded knees running up and down the hills that surrounded the school, a roar on our throats, a smile on our faces.

To me, Este's hair and mine's were intertwined by some kind of thread. Mine, silky, golden. Hers, wild, darkish. We liked to grow our hair as long as we could, only to chop it all off in a sweep. We weren't too attached to it, but I sensed Este needed that radical change now and then, as if she were running away from something, always needing to reinvent herself.

A hot afternoon after school, Este and I were hanging out at her house, building a fort out of sticks and bush that lay around her garden. Suddenly, Dani, Este's younger sibling, run up to us from inside the house, crying. The curly waves that once fell around the shoulders had disappeared, leaving no trace behind. Dani was sobbing into Este's shoulder, and when she asked what had happened, Dani answered. "I want it long, like yours. I don't want to cut it anymore. Please tell mom." Este's eyes pierced mine in that exact moment. I felt like she knew something I didn't yet. It wasn't until a few months later, when Este called me to come over, that I realized what was going on.

"Taylor, come over! We're painting my sister's nails today!" I scrunched up my nose, confused.

"But you don't have a sister," I answered immediately, thinking it was some kind of test. "You've only got one bro-" Este answered quickly, in a breath, rushing.

"Yes, I do. Her name's Dani."

From that moment and later on, Este and I became protectors of Dani. We painted Dani's nails, we lent her our clothes, we fought her mother so that she wouldn't cut her hair anymore. It wasn't easy for her, this town is cursed with the outdated mindset that didn't let people like us live our lives as anybody else should. But Danielle was strong, resilient. And we were by her side, for those times when she couldn't be. So, from an early age, I discovered that people like us did exist, even in a small town like ours. That realisation filled me up with a sense of relief, without knowing why.

One night, Este, Dani and I were hanging out in the kitchen, trying to bake cookies, when Este's parents came back early from work. Este's mom always wore a tight bun on the top of her head, the thready lines of her face covered by the most expensive creams you could find at the drugstore. She left her car keys on the designer bowl placed specially for that purpose, and eyed us up behind her slim glasses, her red lips pursed up in a grimace.

"Dani, what are you doing wearing that?" She pointed at the pink apron Dani was wearing, half of it covered in flour. "You look like your sister. Come on, take it off." She tried to reach out to untie the lace that hung from the front of the apron, but Dani took a step back.

"I don't want to take it off. I like it, Mom." Dani said, her eyes shining, determined.

Este's Mom looked at me, a worried look in her eyes. "Dani's just playing dress-up, don't mind him. Please don't tell around town." I felt furious. She only cared about what other people thought of her and her family. I couldn't stand it. I frowned at her and started to say something, but Dani cut me off before I could get into serious trouble.

"Mom, this is who I am. I'm not playing dress-up. I've told you so many times before, why won't you listen to me?" Este's Mom panicked, her eyes frantically shifting from Dani to me. She couldn't bear the thought of an outsider, me, listening to this conversation. She looked at me as if I were a time-bomb, ready to explode right on her face. The scolding from the whole town was, in her eyes, right in my hands. She couldn't stand it. She stormed off, her heels' clicking filling up the empty space she'd left inside the kitchen.

There were many moments like these, sometimes I was there, sometimes Este told me about them on the phone or at school. The thing was, Dani, only a year younger than us, was as much of a fighter as both of us combined. She and their Mom fought constantly, their dad getting in the mix sometimes. But Dani didn't ever flinch away, and Este always stood by her side.