Written on Skin

I don't know when. I don't know how, but sometime, long ago, people suddenly had writings tattooed somewhere on their body whenever they turned sixteen.

We learned this in history not too long ago but it's not like I ever payed attention in class. All I cared about at that moment was what those words meant. The first words the lover you were going to have for the rest of your life says to you, and your first words on them. All I was thinking for the rest of the lesson, was what my words were going to be.

Now, I'm here, in the present, sixteen years and twelve days old. The words painted across my stomach.

"Why, hello, beautiful." And those same words being said to my face. This. Very. Moment. I was okay for a moment, told the dude to go fuck themselves. Until they responded that that was their tattoo.

I should be happy, right? Absolutely not. This doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

It's a girl.

My future husband is a girl.

That literally can't be, not for me. I'm straight, or, I thought I was... I mean, I look at pretty girls and appreciate their beauty but I've never wanted to *be* with one. This doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

I looked at the girl in front of me. She was tall. Really, really, frickin' tall. She was very pretty. Big, brown eyes. Short, blonde hair cut just above the ears. She was beautiful, but I still didn't understand. She was staring at me, smiling, probably happy that she found her One, while I'm in utter turmoil.

She stuck out her hand.

"Lisa. Lisa Taylor." It took her a moment to put her hand back down after I didn't reciprocate the gesture. She seemed disappointed and it irked me. I regretted not shaking her hand.

"Shay Grifton." I finally said. She lit up a little and I was happy I said something to make that happen.

I raised my hand. "Sorry. I just-... I'm not even sure if I can explain to you why this shouldn't happen. I'm straight. I like men!! A lot!! I've had quite a few boyfriends!" She smiled a little, like she was looking at a child.

"That doesn't necessarily mean you're straight, you can like guys too. Sexuality isn't exclusive. You're almost never really just *one* thing. I like girls. But that doesn't necessarily mean I wouldn't date a guy if I liked him enough. It's not set in stone." She laid a hand on my head and petted it down before putting it back to her side.

"You don't have to be scared of this kind of thing." She smiled extra big at that.

"...How am I supposed to tell my parents?" Her lips turned down.

"Why are people so against love?" She seemed to say to herself. "Don't tell them. Not until you think *you're* ready. 'A blaze doesn't involve herself with minor flames.' It doesn't matter when they're ready." She set her hand on my shoulder. "Only when you are."

I nodded a little, cautiously. "But what if they kick me out of the house?" Her smile was brought back.

"Then you can live with me, if you're comfortable with it." She added with a wink.

Well, maybe this could work, or maybe not. I think I may be willing to try something with someone who makes me feel all fluttery.

I mean, why the hell not?