Her

08

PHOENIX

I can't recall the exact moment I realised it, but at some point I did. I don't think there even was an exact moment. At some point I just realised it. I realised I liked girls. I haven't had any romantic experience with a girl, but I knew anyway. I guess it's like straight people knowing that they are straight. You just know. There was denial, of course, and wishing it wasn't true. But deep down I knew it was. Maybe I always did.

I looked at girls the way I was supposed to look at boys. I saw them in the way I should have seen boys. And I fell for girls instead of boys. I liked their rosy lips, their shiny hair, and their curved bodies. I liked how they moved, dressed, and talked. I liked their softer features, softer skin, and softer laugh. I liked how they seemed more caring, more fascinating, more attractive.

It didn't mean I wouldn't look at boys and couldn't find them good looking. I could still find boys good looking because, well, just because I wasn't straight, it didn't mean I was blind. But the feelings boys could evoke inside of me just weren't the same ones girls could. Sometimes I would get really, really confused about all of it - honestly, it hasn't stopped -, but part of me always knew. I liked girls. Girls made my heart beat faster. And they still do.

The girl who does that now is Aza. Even after what happened, she still gets my heart racing. I don't know why; maybe it's just a natural function of my body, like breathing. To be honest, I have no idea why I even like her. She is rude and mean, ruthless - but also confident, cheeky, and simply attractive. Like I said, maybe being attracted to her is something my body does naturally, maybe I can't control it.

I look at her. She looks at me, and I immediately turn my head. My heart is beating fast. Can you control emotions? I wish I could. Maybe I can learn it. I need to learn it.

She clicks her pen, once, twice, then another time. I don't react. She clicks it again. I don't react. She stops. Suddenly her pen lands on the floor, next to me. Technically, it is closer to me than it is to her. Technically, I could and should pick it up. But I don't. I turn my head to the window, shutting her out of my vision, yet not mind.

"Aza, you dropped your pen."

Sean has turned around to hand Aza her pen. I wonder if she dropped it on purpose for him to pick up. At first I thought she wanted me to do it, but maybe she doesn't. Maybe her aim is just bad, and maybe Sean was her original target.

"So," he says. "I didn't see you at my party. How come?"

"Because I wasn't there."

A chuckle escapes me, which I quickly cover with a cough.

"I was kind of hoping you'd come."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah." I can hear a grin in his voice. "Maybe you can come to my next one."

"I'm not really into parties."

"Oh."

A moment of silence.

"Well, maybe we could hang out instead."

"Hang out?"

The bell rings. I pack up my stuff.

"Yeah," Sean says. "What are you doing today?"

Meeting me, I think. But then I realise that I'm not sure she is. We did plan to meet for our project, but neither of us has addressed it. We haven't talked to each other since I basically told her that I don't ever want to see her again, while crying in front of her like a loser.

"Uhm...," she says.

Part of me wants to stay so that I can hear her rejecting him. And part of me wants to leave so that I won't have to hear her saying yes to going out with some guy. I decide that whatever Aza will end up doing doesn't - or rather shouldn't - affect me. If she rejects him, I shouldn't be happy about it, because it wouldn't mean she likes me. And if she says yes, I shouldn't be sad about it, because I'm not supposed to be having feelings for her anyway. I simply need to stop crushing on her.

I get up and leave the room.

_____

AZA

I hate myself. I hate myself for being mean, I hate myself for being afraid. I hate the guy who's interested in me, whose name I can't even remember, but who I'm definitely not interested in. Because I am interested in someone else. And I hate that I am. I hate that I'm interested in Phoenix. I hate Phoenix. I hate how she's snappy, how she's confident, but apparently not as confident as she wants people to think. I hate that she let me see her cry, that apparently, she does have a different side after all. I hate that she can be all confident, and all vulnerable. I hate her green-green eyes, I hate the stupid, beautiful stars on her face. I hate myself for wanting to count them, wanting to touch them. I hate myself for not being brave enough to do that, for being a coward, for being an asshole. I hate myself for wanting what I want, but acting as if I don't want what I want. I hate myself for wanting Phoenix. I hate myself for wanting her, even though I don't even know her. And I hate to know that I can't have, shouldn't have her.