Fly Away

That night, Leslie took me home and I texted my mom that I wasn't coming home.

How could I face her? How could I pretend nothing happened?

Her mom didn't mind that I was there, considering I was always there and basically knew everything about her house and family.

"Do you need anything, honey?" asked Mrs. Asherdale.

"No thank you. Thanks so much for letting me stay here," I replied politely, hiding my blotted face of tears.

"Mom, can you please, go?" Leslie commanded, motioning to the door of her room.

She smiled and quickly left.

Once she was gone and I could hear her walk down the stairs, I immediately let the tears pour. Again.

"Kimber, please don't worry yourself. You're too pretty," she told me, sweeping my damp bangs out of my face. Her hands felt so nice, taking care of me. A hysterical me.

"Thanks. I know he's not perfect, but why would he do something like this to me?" I asked.

"Because he's stupid," she automatically replied.

I laughed a bit, despite the wetness all around my face. She laughed with me, and I realized what a good friend I have.

"Hey," I said thoughtfully, "you know how you told me you love me?"

She turned her head and looked me in the eyes. "Yeah?"

"Well did you...like, mean it?" I questioned, idiotically.

Duh. What is she gonna say?

"Of course," she answered.

"Oh. I was just thinking," and I instinctively ceased.

"Thinking what?" she pushed.

"Never mind. It's stupid," I announced, shaking my head.

"Kimberly, you're my best friend, of course I love you."

"I know, I love you too, but I just wish we could do something about it. Like some people have nobody to love them, but I have you. Now that I have love, what am I supposed to do with it?"

"I really don't know," she said after a moment of thinking.

---

On Monday, Leslie and I walked into school together, arm in arm, spreading our love.

Everyone was either staring at us, whispering, or giggling. One boy from my math class, Jimmy Vick, noticed us and screamed, "LESBOS!"

So what? If I was gonna go through with this, I would have to take some snide remarks from jealous people.

It felt like the hall grew four miles, but we just kept walking. They were going to disapprove no matter what, so letting it get to us wouldn't change a thing.

Once we finally reached homeroom, which we shared with Drake, we sat down together. Drake walked in and looked at us no differently. When I drew a heart on Leslie's hand and she drew one on mine, he raised an eyebrow.

"Go ahead. Judge me," Leslie said, ready to take in all the criticism.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no," he immediately replied, pulling back. "It's just that, well, I thought you guys were, you know, friends."

"We are. We're best friends and there is nothing wrong with that," I announced.

"I know, and if this is what makes you happy, go right ahead," he said, and I could feel the awkwardness spreading.

When all the other teens waltzed in the classroom, we had to deal with the electric chair once again.

"When did the love begin?" asked a snobby girl, with her lip gloss and short shorts.

I brushed it off.

"Omigosh! Leslie and Kimberly are sooo totally dating! Can't say it surprises me," joked a boy, his sarcastic voice seeming to dig into my skin.

Somebody threw paper at Leslie but she let it go. I don't know how she could deal with this.

Another jokester got the attention of the class, coughed, and said "Whores."

Laughs, giggles, and hoots filled my ears.

I'm not a whore and neither is Leslie. These people have nothing better to do but criticize happy people.

"So let me get this straight. Tyler dumped you for another girl, so you decide you're gonna date a girl? Total desperation," said a girl with her smutty V-Neck that almost passed her bra, booty shorts, and perfect blond hair.

I felt like stabbing all of them, killing all these dumb preps, but I knew that would only make everything worse. If it's even possible.

I looked at Leslie, and she looked at me. We smiled at each other and laughed at them.

They all looked surprise and eventually stopped, but we didn't.

Leslie grabbed mine hand and held it in hers.

"Don't let them get to you. Bullies and idiots wanna ruin what we have. But they won't, you know why?" she whispered when the class began to speak again, but this time not about us.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because what we have is special. It's ours."