I can’t be in a relationship with Hannah, I know that. But the last thing I want to do is make things more complicated—actually, thelastthing I want to do is lose another friend. And tiptoeing around the situation isn’t going to help.
I stash my pen case in my bag and grab my phone from the table when it vibrates. Mom texted to ask if I’ll be home for dinner. She’s ordering Indian.
“I think we’re on the right track,” Hannah says, shoving her laptop into her bag.
“Me too.”
Hannah holds the door open as we walk out of Hai Tea. My phone vibrates again, and I glance down to see a text from Mom telling me I can invite my friend for dinner.My friend, Hannah. The words bounce around in my head.
As Hannah turns the car on, I look at her. Thankfully, she’s too focused on backing out of the parking space, so she doesn’t catch me staring. I notice the rosy undertone of the skin on her cheeks and neck. The image of me kissing her in both spots flashes across my mind, and I have to look away before the memory can fully take hold.
“Any fun plans for tomorrow?” she asks.
“No,” I say, thinking about how tomorrow is my last free Sunday before Sunshine Saints. I wonder if Mrs. Patricia would’ve invited Hannah to do something at our church if Hannah was a Christian. I envy the fact that she doesn’t have to worry about that kind of stuff. She’s not religious, so she doesn’t have an entire belief system working against her, on the inside and outside. And she’s been out for a while. She’s been gay for as long as I’ve known her, I’m pretty sure…
“When did you come out?” I ask, the words escaping before I can stop them.
For a second, we both stare at each other, our mouths hanging open. I’m shocked at myself, but I can see the glint of surprise in Hannah’s eyes.
“Actually, never mind. You don’t have to answer—”
“Clarity, it’s a fair question,” Hannah tells me as we pull out of the parking lot. “And I guess I officially came out in seventh grade, but my family has always kind of known.”
Theyknewwithout her saying anything. “How?” I ask, swallowing some of the desperation in my voice. “I mean, how did they know?”
“Well, I’ve always been a little ‘tomboy-ish,’?” she says, lifting her right hand to make an air quote. “And I kissed my best friend in kindergarten, back when parents thought it was cute and random for kids to kiss each other. But I never grew out of it, of kissinggirls.”
“So, you just… were?” Even though I say it like a question,the truth of it settles around me. The simplicity of just being who she is.
“I guess,” she says, glancing at me. “Look, Clarity, I know everything hit the fan at camp, and that you don’t want to do the secret relationship thing, but you haven’t said it wasn’t real, that the way you feel isn’t real—”
“I’m not going to deny what happened between us,” I assure her. “I’m not going to openly admit it unless I’m under oath, but at least, between us, I’d never pretend… otherwise.”
“I appreciate that,” she says slowly, “but I meant, you haven’t denied that youlike girls.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever said that I ‘like girls.’ I like—liked—you—I mean, I like younow, I just don’t like youthat way—”
“Clarity.” Hannah laughs, resting a hand on my arm. “I get what you mean, don’t worry.”
I laugh a little too, glad to find that we can laugh about this stuff.
“But liking me does mean something more,” she says, all the playfulness leaving her voice.
“Hannah, we shouldn’t talk about this. I don’t want—”
“But wehaveto! At least, I have to. One minute, I feel like we’re falling in love; the next minute you won’t speak to me. Now we’re copresidents, something that was supposed to be a romantic gesture—”
“I didn’t ask you to do that, Hannah. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“And what? Let festival committee die? Not to mention, oneminute you look at me like you miss me, like you think about how we used to be the same way I do, and the next minute you look like you need to be as far away from me as possible.” She turns to me. “Like that, your faceright now!”
She points at me, actuallypoints. I stop myself from pulling down the visor to look in the mirror.
“You say you can’t date me, but then I catch you looking at me like that’s exactly what you want. What am I supposed to do with that?!” Her voice catches, and the air stills between us, both of us waiting to see if she’s going to cry.
“You’re supposed to move on,” I say after a beat. “And I didn’t randomly flip the switch on you. I was scared. I wassoscared. I needed to do anything to protect my family.”
“From what, though?”