Chapter 1 - Happy Anniversary
"Happy anniversary," I said. The tall girl with honey-blonde hair and light blue eyes had just gotten out of the shower and stood there to be observed. Her skin was fair and smooth. Her nose and cheeks were dotted with a small accent of freckles. Her body was okay, toned from daily runs and good eating. Not much in the way of boobs, though. "Not too bad," I thought. "Not the prettiest I've seen, but I could have done worse."
She had mouthed my greeting silently along with me. Reflections do that.
It had been three years since I stood on stage, bawling in my sister's arms, because somehow I got the idea that it would be easier to come out to everyone, all at once.
My grand gesture announcing to all the world that I, Analee Jennings, was attracted to girls...didn't have as much fallout as I thought it would. Things were weird around our house for a couple of weeks as awkward conversations were had, but that was about it.
Mom: Aren't you too young to make a decision like this?
Me: How old were you when you decided to like boys?
Mom: That's different, Honey. Girls are supposed to like boys.
Me: So, you decided to like boys because you were told you were supposed to?
Mom: No, I just did!
Me: (making a point) So, it's not something we decide, then?
Mom: Analee! You're twisting my words.
* * *
Dad: Analee, um...nice poem.
Me: Thank you.
Dad: I, uh, have no idea what to say when it comes time for "the talk" now.
Me: That's okay. That's what the internet is for.
Dad: (looks panicked)
Me: Just kidding! (Not really.)
* * *
Grandpa: So, do you think you're a boy?
Me: No, Grandpa! Seriously?
Grandpa: I just wondered. Seems like there's a lot of that going on these days.
Me: Well, not with me! Jesus, grandpa. I'm a girl!
Grandpa: Well I know that. I just don't know If I could bring myself to call you "he."
Me: That's, like, a whole different thing. That's being trans. It's different than being gay.
Grandpa: (Looking like he wants to ask a question) So, at school, what bathroom do you-
Me: I think I hear grandma calling me.
* * *
Grandma: Don't you think you just might meet some nice young man someday that will change your mind about boys?
Me: Maybe. I guess I could be bi. So far I just like girls, though.
Grandma: No, I mean...make you not like girls anymore...in that way.
Me: Hah! That'd be like finding a brussel sprout so good that I don't like ice cream any more.
Grandma: Have you, um, had a girlfriend yet, Analee?
Me: No.
Grandma: Oh good. So you don't really know then.
Me: Grandma, that's not how it works. When I see a pretty girl, I'm like-
Grandma: I think I hear your grandpa calling me!
* * *
Kristy: (Excitedly) Have you kissed a girl?
Me: No.
Kristy: Have you held hands with a girl?
Me: No.
Kristy: Do you think you'll marry a girl someday?
Me: Probably.
Kristy: Will you both wear dresses, or will one of you wear a tuxedo?
Me: I don't know. Both dresses, I hope.
Kristy: Will you have two maids of honor, or will someone have to pick a boy to be best man?
Me: I don't really know how that works.
Kristy: What if you marry a friend of mine and you both want me to be maid of honor? Can I be both or would I have to pick one?
Me: I'm not sure about that either.
Kristy: Don't worry, I would totally pick you. Unless the friend was Mey Li. We already promised to make each other our maids of honor, so I'd have to be hers, unless I could be both. You don't think you'd ever marry Mey, do you?
Me: Isn't it bedtime?
Kristy: No. I still have a half hour. Do you think Mey's cute?
Me: Kristy, I promise not to marry Mey.
Kristy: Who takes whose name when two girls get married? Oh! You could hyphenate it! Jennings-Li, or Li-Jennings.
Me: Why are you still hung up on Mey?
Kristy: Because I just realized we'd be sisters if you got married! You never said if you think she's cute. I'll ask her if she thinks you're cute.
Me: Kristy! I will kill you!
* * *
I was spending my coming-out-iversary morning getting ready to supervise a two night sleepover for my little sister and her friends from her volleyball team. My parents were gone until Sunday night, and they wanted an "adult" in the house. Thanks guys. That makes me sound so lame for a seventeen year old.
The doorbell rang just as I finished getting dressed in a pair of grey sweats and an old t-shirt. I saw no reason to get dressed up for a bunch of sophomores.
"One of your friends must be here," I called to Kristy.
"It's Mey. You might as well get the door," she called back.
Ugh. Mey's family was one of many conservative religious families in our rural area. Most were Baptist. Mey's was staunch Catholic. Like many of the local families, though, Mey's had a problem with me. Once you get away from the bigger cities in the north, it looks more like the Bible Belt than you would think. Kristy had warned me Mey's mom wanted to talk to me before agreeing to let her stay.
I went downstairs, still with wet hair, and answered the door with my nicest smile.
"Hi Mrs. Li! Nice to see you. Come on in, Mey-flower." Mey stood there with a backpack and a pillow. She knew better than to move before her mom gave her approval.
"Hello," Mrs. Li responded. She had a slight accent, having moved here from China in her twenties. "Your parents aren't home. Correct?"
"That's right," I smiled. "They'll be back Sunday night, but I'll be here all weekend in case the girls need anything."
"And..." she hesitated, "Will you be having any...friends, over?"
I took a calming breath. "Nope. Just me and the munchkins."
"Ah, okay. So, do you have enough... beds for everybody?"
I lowered my forehead but continued to look her right in the eyes. My voice took on a falsely civil tone.
"I won't be sharing a bed with any of the girls, Mrs. Li."
"Ah, no, of course not," she waved the hand holding her keys as if to swish away a misunderstanding and put a hand on Mey's shoulder to guide her inside. Once she was in her mother said, in a very serious voice, "Just call me if you need anything, Mey."
With a forced smile, she was back in her car driving away.
I used to feel bad for Mey, because I assumed she couldn't be as ignorant as her parents, but over the years I've noticed a bit of coldness in the way she acts towards me. Maybe she's just getting it from her parents, maybe not, but how old do you have to be before that's no longer an excuse?
I was about to go back and dry my hair, but as Mrs. Li got to the end of the driveway, I saw a red minivan turning onto our road. That would be Pixie. Her real name was Julie, but I had nicknamed her Pixie because she has long, wispy blonde hair, pale skin, icy grey eyes, and always acts like she's half dreaming. It's easy to imagine she's a refugee from fairy-land. I swear there's something wrong with her, but Kristy insists she's really smart.
Pixie's mom drove up to the house, let her out, waved at me, and started backing out of our long driveway. Pixie came running up to the house carrying an unzipped backpack, blanket, and pillow. Just before she got to our porch, she got a scared look on her face, turned around, and chased her mom down the driveway. Once her mom saw her, she stopped the van. Pixie ran to the vehicle, opened the door, got something out, then started running up to the house again, almost tripping over the blanket which was spilling out of her pile. Her mom didn't move this time. Instead, she held something out of the window and waited for Pixie to realize she had forgotten yet another item. She did, and repeated her trip back to the van. Finally, she made it to the house, huffing and sweaty.
"Hey Ani," she smiled.
"Hey Pixie," I chuckled. "Kristy's upstairs. Tell her to keep an ear out for everyone else, okay? I need to dry my hair."
"Okay," she said as she started up the stairs. I followed behind her and picked up the trail of sunscreen and flip-flops she left.
Shogun was next to arrive. She had been in karate since she was little, hence, the nickname. She actually had "Shogun" on her volleyball jersey. She was disciplined for a sophomore, but still knew how to have fun.
Next was Rizzy, nicknamed after the character 'Rizzo' from Grease because of her short, curly hair and attitude. She was hilarious. Short, a bit pudgy, and sporting thick glasses, she was still a ball of confidence because she was smarter and funnier than anyone else in their grade. Even at fifteen she was a force to be reckoned with in a battle of sarcastic wit.
Finally, DJ made it. In a town this small, and this far north, diversity is hard to come by. DJ was currently one of two black kids in Preston Public K-12 school. The other was a 4th grader who had been adopted by a local family. DJ got her nickname because she always wanted to be in control of the music at every event. Not in a bossy way, she just knew every song in the world from the moment it was available, and was always excited to share her knowledge.
The weather was hot, so the girls hit the pool before dinnertime, and I started to get into my role as designated responsible person. First, dinner. I wasn't an awesome cook, but thanks to some lasagnas my mom made up ahead of time, and my amazing skill with salad and pre-packaged garlic bread, I had an actual dinner ready to go in no time. I set the table with candles and a vase of flowers, partly because I wanted to be silly, and partly so the girls would feel spoiled.
I was mixing up a box of brownies for dessert when the doorbell rang. I peeked out the window to see all the girls playing in the pool, oblivious to the visitor. "I guess that leaves me," I thought. I made my way into the living room, noticing a car in our driveway through the front window. I recognized it, but I couldn't remember whose it was. Grabbing for the door knob, I saw brownie mix all over my hands, so I gave them a wipe on my shirt.
When I opened the door, I saw a girl. A very pretty girl. She had wavy, dark auburn hair that fell well past her shoulders and tons of gorgeous freckles to match. Her eyes were a light shade of golden brown I'd never seen before, like highly polished wood. She was wearing athletic shorts and a sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off, revealing toned arms and legs. She looked to be my sister's age, and was around six inches shorter than I was. It didn't seem fair that this stranger got to be so pretty at an age when most girls still looked 'cute' at best! And those eyes...what would you call them? Light-hazel? Autumn oak leaves? I realized she was smiling at me.
"Hey," I smiled back at her. "What can I do for you?"
"Is this Kristy Jenning's house?"
"Yes. Is she...expecting you?"
"Yeah. I'm Kelly, from her volleyball team." The girl was all smiles.
Kelly waved towards the driveway, where the car had been waiting, and they drove away. She bent over and picked up a backpack and a pillow that were hiding beside the door. The reality that this girl was here for the weekend sank in.
I stood aside to let her in. "Um, I'm Analee, Kristy's older sister."
She gave me her biggest smile yet. "Kristy said she had an amazing older sister. Nice to meet you."
"Yeah, you too." We stood there in silence until I realized the poor girl was waiting for me to say something while I was trying to find a name for her eye color. "Um, all the girls are out back by the pool. You can throw your stuff in her room if you want. It's upstairs on the right."
"Okay! Thanks!" she jogged up to Kristy's room. May the gods of good taste forgive me, but I checked out her butt as she ran up the stairs.
After returning to the kitchen and finishing the brownie mix, I checked myself out in the mirror in the hall. I looked like crap. I had never really done anything with my hair. I still had on sweats and an old t-shirt. I had brownie mix on my shirt and face! "It wouldn't hurt to get cleaned up before dinner," I thought.