The walk home from Gerard's house had been a blur- I couldn't even remember what I said to him after the kiss. I just wanted to get away from him before I passed out from embarrassment.
I slammed and locked my door the second I got home. My mom wasn't there but I didn't want to deal with her when she got back; I knew she would ask where I had been all day. I hadn't told her I was leaving- I'd just snuck out as soon as I woke up. I went to the diner, made small talk with the waitress for a while, walked around for a bit, and then ended up at Gerard's house, like I almost always did when I left home. It was either Gerard's house, or sitting at the diner until he came in for coffee, like he had done since the day we first me there. (Some days he didn't even sit with me, though. He would sit half way across the diner and if I happened to catch his eye, he would smile and nod, but then carry on like I just happened to be another regular customer that recognized him. On those days I would stare at the side of his head, wondering why he wasn't talking to me. Other days he would walk right over to me and sit on my side of the booth, a sling an arm over my shoulder. Sometimes he'd sit on the other side of the booth and launch straight into discussion, and we would talk for hours. His mood was so hard to predict.)
I considered going to the diner, just in a lame attempt to keep my mind busy and distract myself, but I was too confused and angry and sad to talk about anything right now, not even about what I wanted to eat, and I didn't exactly want to have to see the table where we first met, either.
I couldn't get what had happened out of my head.
I had kissed him.
My fingers touched my lips for the millionth time as I more or less fell onto my bed, flopping onto my stomach.
I had kissed a boy.
The thought made me physically ill. It wasn't Gerard himself, no, he was far from the problem. I liked him a lot. I liked him a little too much, sometimes. I could easily picture us keeping up a relationship for the rest of forever.
I wanted to be able to stay in a relationship with Gerard, or at least stay friends. I really did. It was just that word, that label that we're all given before we're even out of the womb that was keeping me from letting us become anything more.
It was gender, that troubled me.
"A boy," I muttered quietly.
Gerard is a boy. I am a boy.
And we kissed.
I felt my stomach lurch and I squeezed my eyes shut, stretching out on my bed, kicking my shoes off. I pressed my face into my pillow, trying to force the thought out of my head.
My second kiss, and it was with a boy.
I let out a disgusted sound, not being able to believe myself. I'm such a hypocrite sometimes...
I mean, is that all I've been freaking out over? Gender?
It didn't seem like a big deal, but I couldn't bring myself to accept it.
I didn't give a flying fuck if other people wanted a relationship with someone of the same gender, but it just felt so damn awkward when it was me on the receiving end.
I felt sick to my stomach.
It wasn't right. It wasn't fucking natural. That's what this whole issue was. I was so attracted to him, but it was just so completely wrong. I shouldn't be with a boy. I couldn't be with a boy! That's not how my mind worked now, nor how it's ever worked. I've always been 'straight,' as society has so kindly labeled my sexuality. I was beginning to re-think this whole 'pansexual' thing.
