Emerald Eyes

The next couple of weeks passed uneventfully. February came, bringing even more snow and chatter about the Valentine’s Day dance with boys from St. Joseph’s. I went to class, spent time with Zoe, and even talked to my family a few times. I had settled into Forest Oak, and even though I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t quite as miserable. A big part of it was Zoe.
One snowy Thursday, as I was sitting in study hall, I found myself thinking about how she made me feel. It made my stomach flutter when she hugged me and I found myself not wanting to let her go.
Over the past couple of weeks, I had noticed her getting closer to me. Literally. She would hold my hand, touch my arm or play with my hair. She always sat close to me, even when there was a lot of room, and sometimes I would catch her gazing at me out of the corner of my eye. I brushed it off, though- I knew she was bi, but she liked someone.
For some reason, that thought made me a little disappointed.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Whoa. What the hell, Brielle? You’re a girl. Not cool. I returned to my homework, trying to ignore the gnawing sense of guilt that overcame me every time she crossed my mind. My efforts were futile, though, because Zoe showed up just then.
“Hey,” she mumbled, leaning on the bookshelf in front of me. She looked nervous as hell and a little shaken up.
“Hey, Zoe, what’s up? You look upset.”
“No, I’m fine. Um, could you maybe come up and help me with a French class project?” Her eyes were on the floor. “I mean, if you don’t want to-“
“No, I will. Let’s go.” I shoved my papers into my bag, signed out with Jana and followed Zoe out of the library. I noticed her shaking slightly as we walked up the stairs.
When we reached her room, she unlocked the door and let me in, then followed me. The bed across from hers was empty.
“I don’t have a roommate. Got lucky, I guess.” She sat down on her bed and I perched next to her.
“So what’s this project you need help with? I’m warning you, I suck at French.”
She bit her lip and stared down at her hands. “I’m gonna tell you the truth. I don’t have a French project. I just wanted to get you alone.”
“Why? What’s going on?” My heart started to pound in my chest and I felt the butterflies in my stomach start up again. Electricity pulsed through my veins.
“Nothing. It’s just… There’s something I need to do.”
“What?”
She drew in a deep breath and took my hands.
“This.”
She closed her eyes, leaned closer to me, squeezed my hands…
She kissed me.
Oh my god. Oh my god, this girl is kissing me what is going on oh my god oh my god oh my god.
She was warm. Her lips were soft, gentle, and I found myself kissing her back. The tip of her tongue poked my lips and I opened them a little, returned the favor. Fireworks exploded in front of my eyes. My heart was slamming. My hands were shaking. My temples were pulsing with heat.
When she pulled away, I nearly fainted.
I opened my eyes to find her watching me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I felt something snap in my brain, as if autopilot had clicked on. I was no longer in control. I jumped up and bolted, locking myself in my room and collapsing on the bed.
Oh my God.
I kissed someone.
I kissed a girl.
I kissed Zoe.
I kissed a girl at Catholic school.
I buried my face in the pillow and began to cry.
I can’t like her. I can’t. I don’t. It was a mistake. I’m straight. I’m going to grow up and marry a beautiful boy in a big old Catholic church and have a bunch of babies and we’ll have a white picket fence and a golden retriever and we’ll go to church every Sunday and live happier ever after amen.
I could still feel the pressure of her lips on mine, her shaky hands. I knew she liked somebody, a girl, but was it actually me? Could anyone actually like me? Why had she done it? Why did I let her? Why did I do it back? Why did she make my heart pound, my hands sweat, and my nerves tingle? I had never felt this before, not even with the boys I had liked back in elementary and middle school. They were stupid little crushes, the kind where you draw his name in a heart all over your notebooks and listen to dumb pop songs. But with Zoe, it felt… real. Different. Amazing.
No. No. No.

I didn’t talk to Zoe the rest of the week. She seemed to be avoiding me- she didn’t come to class, ate alone or skipped meals entirely, never appeared in study hall. Whenever she saw me, she pulled her hood up and stared at the floor.
I missed her. I missed having someone to talk to, laugh with, confide in. I really liked her- but the way I liked her was haunting me.
The days came and went, and soon enough, it was Valentine’s Day. We were served heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast, with pink grapefruit juice and fresh strawberries. In history, we discussed St. Valentine and other saints of the time, which was boring. Science was the cardiovascular system. English was The Tell-Tale Heart, which I thought was clever. The school was buzzing with dance fever- the boys were coming from St. Joseph’s, across town, at six o’clock, and everyone was bouncing off the walls. Girls chattered about dresses, makeup, how they would do their hair, and the boys they were going with. Some girls had friends or boyfriends at St. Joe’s. Others were on blind dates, and some, including me, were flying solo.
At five-thirty, after a quick dinner, we all rushed to our rooms to get ready. The bathrooms were steam-filled and crowded. Some girls, who were less shy than others, changed into their dresses in the hallway. Others, like me, waited for a stall or got dressed in their rooms.
My dress was dark blue, with a skirt to my knees and skinny straps. The fabric was soft and swishy against my bare legs. I put on black ballet flats and the little makeup I had- powder on my nose, a bit of pink lip gloss, and some gray eyeliner. I left my hair down and pulled it back with a pink headband.
When the boys arrived, we all piled onto buses and headed over to the community center down the street. The bus driver and one of the directors from St. Joseph’s got into an argument about why they hadn’t just gone there in the first place. The girl next to me on the bus was dressed like a hooker. I recognized her as the girl from Bible study the first night I was at Forest Oak, the one with the cross stuck between her boobs. She didn’t seem to notice me, so I stared out the window and wondered why the hell I was even going.
We got to the center at 6:15 and filed in. I sat down on a bench near the door and stared at my nails as people passed by. Couples were dancing together, their bodies not touching. The “make room for Jesus” rule was in full effect. Girls laughed and flirted. Boys ate and jumped around like idiots. The music was deafening.
I watched the scene for about forty-five minutes. I got up a couple times for water and chips, but other than that, I stayed in my spot looking like an idiot.
As I was watching a couple try to sneak off to the bathrooms together, I noticed someone across the room. Standing alone, dressed in black, multicolored hair covering her face.
Zoe.
I stood up and slipped through the room, avoiding dancing girls and stupid boys. She didn’t notice me, or ignored me, until I was standing next to her.
“I need to talk to you!” I shouted over the music. She nodded and followed me to the back door.
“We’re going out for air,” I announced to the lady guarding the exit. She nodded and let us out. We walked for a while until we reached the back of the building, away from the music and wandering couples. She leaned against the wall and looked into my eyes.
“So what’s going on?”
I couldn’t help noticing how wonderful she looked- her dress was trimmed with black lace, low-cut and short in the skirt. Her legs were long and I could see all her curves, the ones she hid under jeans and hoodies. The dress clung to her body perfectly and I swallowed hard.
I can’t lie anymore.
“I’m sorry about what I did last week, Brielle.” Her voice was low and scratchy. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was an accident. A mistake. I won’t do it again.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” I took a deep breath. “Zoe, when you kissed me, I was shocked. I didn’t know how to react. I shouldn’t have run.”
“It’s ok. I just really like you.” She sighed. “I’ll get over it.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“And why is that?” She narrowed her eyes. I closed mine.
Do it. Say it. Tell the truth. You can’t run from this anymore.
“I like you too, Zoe.”
She sucked in her breath. “Prove it.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer, then pressed my lips to hers.
Fireworks.
She parted her lips, let me inside. Gave me my first taste of rebellion. She was sweet like candy. Her lips were warm. Her hands slid up into my hair, running her fingers through it, tugging it slightly. My heart sped up.
When we parted to breathe, she was smiling.
“That was the best moment of my life,” she whispered, smoothing my hair out.
“Zoe...” Take the plunge. You’ve already jumped one cliff, time to jump the next. “It’s Valentine’s Day. So would you be mine?”
Her smile was like sunshine. “I would be proud to be your valentine, Brielle.” She kissed me again, gently. No hunger, no passion, just her soft lips and warm hands and the best moment of my life.

I couldn’t sleep that night.
Dana was gone again. Zoe was in her room. I was alone and my thoughts were whirling, driving me insane.
Zoe is a girl.
Zoe is my girlfriend.
I’m a girl.
I’m a girl who has a girlfriend.
Does that make me gay? Bi?
If I am, how do I tell my parents? How can I stay at this school?
Am I a whore?
Am I going to hell?
Will God still love me?
Do I even love him?
Will my parents still love me?
Do I even love them?
Will Kaitlyn and Serena hate me?
What if someone finds out?
What if I get kicked out?
What if Zoe dumps me?
What if I fall in love with her?
Am I going to have sex with her?
Do I want to?
What am I going to do?
Around one, I gave up on sleep and dug my phone out of my backpack. No calls, no messages. I sent Zoe a quick text, hoping she was up.
Within moments, I heard a knock at my door. I opened it carefully, trying to keep it from creaking, and let her in.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Her lip rings were out, but her makeup was still on.
“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep and my brain is just going crazy.”
She sat down on my bed and I flopped down next to her, leaning my head on her shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”
“Everything. Us. What could happen because of us.”
She sighed. “I’ve been thinking about the same thing. I mean, my parents would kill me, and I have a feeling yours wouldn’t be too happy about it.”
“They would disown me.” My voice shook a little and she took my hands. “We’d get kicked out of school.”
“Brielle, I love you. Maybe it’s early to say it but I don’t care. I love you. You are brilliant and beautiful and sweet and funny and I don’t ever want to lose you. I am willing to risk my family finding out and getting thrown out of this shitty place for you. But I understand if you aren’t.”
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and leaned my forehead on hers. “Zoe, I will risk everything for you. I love you too. We’ll be okay. We just have to be careful.”
She kissed my nose. “We can do it.”
“I hope so.”
We lay down next to each other and she took my hand, intertwined her fingers with mine. Kissed me gently and stroked my hair, comforting me until I fell asleep.

When I woke up, Zoe’s head was buried in my shoulder and she was still clutching my hand. The room was dim. Dana’s bed was still empty.
“Zoe. Wake up,” I whispered, shaking her arm gently. She startled and opened her eyes, smiling at me.
“Morning, Brielle.” Her voice was scratchy. “Did Dana come in?”
I pulled myself up and out of bed. “No. Thank you for staying with me.”
“Of course.” She stood up and took my face in her hands, leaning in. Just as she was about to kiss me, the door opened. Zoe jumped away like I was on fire as Dana walked in.
“Morning, guys. Did you have a good time at the dance?”
“Yeah. You?”
“I did. I went on a blind date with the cutest boy from St. Joe’s. He was such a sweetheart. I even kissed him at the end of the night.”
“Aw, that’s nice,” I replied. Zoe rolled her eyes.
“How about you? Kiss any cute guys?”
My cheeks started to burn and I turned to my dresser. “Nope.”
“Come on, you’re totally blushing! Who was he?”
“No one. I promise.”
She snorted. “Whatever you say, Brielle. See you at breakfast!” She headed out with her clothes and bag, shutting the door behind her.
“Jesus. She’s so annoying. I’m gonna go back and get dressed. Meet me at the stairs.”
“No problem.” She left and I got dressed quickly, not bothering with brushing my hair or teeth. When I got to the top of the stairs, Zoe was already there.
“Good day, my lady. After you.” She followed me down the stairs and into the cafeteria. Breakfast that day was bagels and yogurt. As we were waiting in line, Dana came up to me, her hair swinging.
As we entered the cafeteria, Dana came up to us.
“Hey, Brielle. You wanna sit with me and my friends?” she asked, shooting Zoe a dirty look.
“I’m gonna sit with Zoe, if that’s okay. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Sure. Whatever.” She walked off and Zoe winced.
“I can’t stand her,” she muttered.
“I know. She really isn’t that bad, though.”
“Maybe so. But she’s a bitch to me.”
“Yeah, I know.” The line moved up and I pulled her forward. “Just ignore her.”
“It’s what I do best.”
We finally got our food and sat down together at a small table in the back. A few girls gave us odd looks as we walked past. Some pointed and whispered to each other.
“God, these girls are fucking shallow,” Zoe muttered under her breath. “They treat me like some kind of freak.”
“You aren’t a freak, you’re unique, and I love that about you.” I touched her knee under the table and she smiled.
“So how are we going to do this without getting busted?” she asked in a low voice, glancing around the room.
“No PDA but hugging with other people around, and that has to look innocent. No kissing except in our rooms and for mine, only when Dana’s gone.”
“Sounds like not a lot of fun.”
“I know,” I mumbled. “But we don’t have a choice.”
“Yeah.” Her mouth slanted into a semi-frown and she stared at the table.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hate this. I don’t want to keep it a secret. I want to tell the world that I love Brielle Christina Harper.”
“And I want to be able to say I love Zoe Noelle Fabian. But it’s gonna have to wait. Someday we’ll be out of here and we can be as proud as we want.”
She smiled slightly and took my hands under the table. “I hope so.”

Later that day.
I was sitting in afternoon electives listening to Mrs. Brookstill explain our latest assignment- to do a portrait using basic shapes. She showed us a few from former students- somebody did one of Jesus on the cross, somebody else did Marilyn Monroe, and another student had drawn Brad Pitt. She recommended we use someone with striking features, things that would stand out even without much detail.
Zoe. Perfect.
On my sheet of paper, I started with an oval and then added a sharp triangle for a nose. A heart for lips, thick lines for hair, and black rectangles for clothes. I colored her hair in with red and black and pale yellow, made her lips pink and drew tiny silver circles for her piercings. And lastly, I selected the perfect jade-toned pencil to shade in the final detail- her glittering emerald eyes.
Mrs. Brookstill passed my table, her boots thunking against the floor. “Who is this?”
“My girlf- I mean, a friend of mine.” My cheeks started to burn. “Just a friend.”
She didn’t seem to notice my slip, which was almost Freudian in the awkwardness it would have caused. She just nodded. “Nice work.”
“Thank you,” I replied, staring at the table. She moved on to the next group and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Slick, Brielle. Real fucking smooth.