How To NOT Be Straight✓

3: Rules Baby

After a very successful (in my opinion, of course) meeting with the Samsons, my parents basically forced me to invite Alexis over two nights before school officially started. And guess what? That's Saturday, meaning it's today! What a fortunate turn of events!

Note the sarcasm.

Don't get me wrong, Alexis seems nice. But the thing is, my room isn't as girly as one would think it is. When we first moved here, my mom gave me the choice; pink, black, or grey walls. Guess what color I chose? Grey, motherfuckers.

Dad wasn't too impressed, but mom didn't seem to mind. She went along with it, perhaps thinking I'd change my mind, but I never did. Not one bit. I mean, yes I do like certain colors but I'm not going to fit into a girly stereotype of having pink walls. If I don't like pink, I won't get pink walls. Black is a nice color, but it's way too dark for a room. So grey it is. Why would I pick pink anyways? For what? For who?

Alexis looked around my room for a bit while I just sat there. She's observing the walls, that had only two posters of Little Mix and NF, then looks at the mood board. She whistled lowly as she approached it, touching the material.

"Nice board you got over here," She said, pointing at one piece of paper. "Want to be free?"

I got off the bed and walked to where she was standing. "Yeah, you have no idea what it's like living in this house."

She smiled. "I can just imagine, your dad seems pretty uptight."

"You haven't seen the worst of it. Like, trust me, sometimes he can be the biggest asshole on the planet, other times he can be the biggest supporter on Earth. It's just you who has the say in what side he's going to show." I nudged her side. "I mean, these are things I'd like to accomplish this year."

"Cool." She moved away and approached my cupboard, taking  the trophy off the shelf. "What's this for?"

I wasn't as comfortable with Alexis touching stuff around my room and as hospitable as I am, I let my discomfort get the best of me.

"Why don't you turn it around and find out?" I accidentally muttered. "Jesus, I'm sorry. It's for-"

"You won first place in the art competition in 9th grade?" She mused, easing the tension in the air. "Woah."

I smiled, partly relieved that she wasnt bothered by my slip up. "Yeah, most of my works are hung up around the room. Of course, besides the posters of-"

"Little Mix? NF?" She rose a brow in amusement while my jaw dropped. "What? I like them both."

"You're certainly a piece of work aren't you?"

"I'd like to think of myself as a little weird." She shrugged, placing the trophy down. "So what subjects do you do  at school?"

"History, Art, and Divinity," I answered her, sitting back on the bed. "If this art thing doesn't work, I'd like to be a lawyer at least. How about you?"

"Maths, biology, and chemistry. Want to be a scientist one day," She replied with ease. "Challenging subjects really."

"Oh come on." I stood up and approached her. "You're gonna be discovering whole new viruses and cures and shit like that. Be excited." I pat her on the head and she swatted my hand away. "Doctor Samson."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please."

"It's true. Sooner or later, I'm gonna ask you to create a deadly poison." I winked, putting my arm around her. "There are a couple of people I'd like to give that to."

"And risk going to jail with your deadly ass? Fuck no." She moved away from me to sit on my bed. "I'm not surprised you're doing divinity."

"Why?"

"I mean, with your dad being a pastor and all–"

I put a hand up. "Please, I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing it for me sis."

I'd had so many people get interested in the subject choices I made. Some thought I wanted to be a pastor, others an artist, but me? I don't really want to think about what I want to do later.

"But like, it only makes sense because-"

"Moving on," I dismissed the topic before it went too far. "Are you excited for school?"

"Who is?" She laughed, then stopped. "I mean, you probably are."

"Hell no."

"Why? You have friends, you seem pretty cool and you're familiar with the place. You probably even have a boyfriend." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as she continued. "I'm new here, and things aren't looking up for me already."

"I have my own reasons for not being excited." I shrugged, avoiding the real reason why I didn't want to re-enter the hellhole—I mean school— again. "Either way, I don't give a shit about how we start on Monday. As long as I can finish high school and leave this place, I'll be happy."

There was a moment of silence, and Alexis fiddled with her fingers a bit. I felt guilty for my nonchalant attitude, and I helped her up. She rose a brow.

"What are you doing?" She asked me.

"See that poster over there?" I pointed to the one near my bed. "I made it."

She walked towards it. "It's a list?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "A list of rules I made."

"These rules seem quite... interesting. When did you make these?"

"Last year, around the time I..." I paused, and then changed my wording. "I call them rules on how to not be straight."

"You're not straight?" Her eyes went wide.

I rolled my eyes. "Do I even look straight?"

"You do realize that you can't judge a sexual orientation by the way someone acts or dresses, right?" She said, clearly fed up with me.

"You do realize you can't assume everyone is straight, right?" I fired back.

"Touché." She gave me a firm nod. "Do your parents know?"

"No, and I plan to keep it that way Alexis."

"But–"

"It's like you're not reading rule number 15," I scoffed. "That's why I can't tell them."

"Oh wow, so these are your made up rules on how to not be straight?"

"I mean, there's room for addition. But yeah, these are the rules. You want to know more?" I asked her, and she hesitantly nodded.

I clapped my hands. "Alright then! Alexis, here are the rules on how to not be straight."