Autoboyography
Page 41
I don’t resist when he pulls me into a hug, but I feel like a two-by-four against him. Reels and reels of memories are flying past. Somewhere in my brain a poor, underpaid theater geek is trying to find the footage of Manny realizing I’m into dudes. I can’t locate the memory, the possibility anywhere. “Manny, dude. We’re cool. I don’t even know what this is about.”
He pulls away and then looks at Autumn, who is standing very, very still. Manny looks at me again. “Hey, no, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
He backs off and turns, leaving Auddy and me in a cloud of silence and wind.
“What was that?” Auddy asks, watching him walk away.
“Who knows?” I look at her, preparing some easy explanation in my head. I mean, this is what I do. I’m fast on my feet. I’m usually so fast. But today, I don’t know, maybe I’m tired. Maybe I’m sick of protecting myself. Maybe I’m leveled by Sebastian’s denial. Maybe the hurricane of my feelings and the lies and the half-truths just knocked the covers off my windows and Auddy sees straight through, inside.
“Tanner, what is going on?”
It’s the same voice Sebastian used on the mountain. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.
Just like Sebastian, she does understand. She just wants me to say it.
“I’m . . .” I look up at the sky. A plane flies overhead, and I wonder where it’s headed. “I think I’m in love with Sebastian.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Auddy smiles, but it’s this weird, bright, robot-girl smile. I nearly laugh, because the first thought I have is how much better Sebastian is than Autumn at fake smiling, and how that would be the worst possible thing to let slip out of my mouth right now.
“Let’s talk in the car?” I say.
She turns and walks around to the passenger side just as robotically. I’m in a weird state of shock, where Manny’s words and expression are looping in my head, and I know this conversation with Autumn is about to happen, but I’ve been waiting for it for so long that more than anything, I just feel insane relief.
Her door slams shut. I climb in beside her, sticking the keys in the ignition just to turn on the heat. “So.”
She turns to face me, tucking a leg beneath her. “Okay. What just happened?”
“Well, apparently Manny figured out that I’m into guys.”
She blinks. I know that Autumn is pro-gay rights—she adores Emily and Shivani, she rails about the LDS policy about queer members, and she helped put up flyers for the Provo High Gay-Straight Alliance party last spring. But it’s one thing to support it in theory. It’s another to have it right there, in her life. In her best friend.
“Technically, I’m bi. I’ve known probably forever, but I’ve been sure since I was thirteen.”
She points to her own face. “If I look anything other than fine with this, please understand I’m only upset that you didn’t tell me sooner.”
I shrug. I don’t really need to point out that the timing of me sharing this information isn’t up to her. “Okay. Well, here we are.”
“This feels like a big deal.”
This makes me laugh. “It is a big deal. I’m describing how my heart beats.”
She blinks, confused. “But you made out with Jen Riley sophomore year. I saw you,” she says. “And what about Jessa, Kailley, and Trin? You’ve had sex. With girls.”
“I also made out with you,” I remind her. She flushes, and I point to my chest. “Bi.”
“Wouldn’t it be weird if there was a girl at school—a girl we had talked about, who we both thought was insanely hot, and sweet, and perfect—and I was in love with her and dealing with that on my own and I didn’t say anything to you about it?”
I hadn’t really thought about it this way, and even that hypothetical makes me feel the tiniest bit sad, like all this time I was there, available, invested, and Auddy didn’t come to me because she didn’t trust me. “Yeah, okay, I get that. But in my defense, it’s Provo. And you know my mom. She is, like, militant about this stuff. There’s no room to be anything but one hundred percent on my side. I didn’t want to risk that you’d have any conflict or issue with me.”
“Oh my God. So much makes sense now.” She exhales, long and slow, turning to blow her breath on the window. A cloud of condensation appears, and Autumn draws a heart in it and then takes a Snap, typing an enormous red “WOW” before posting it.
“So, Sebastian,” she says.
“Yeah. Sebastian knows,” I say, intentionally misunderstanding her. “He found out by accident, though. The summary of my book . . . I forgot to take the word ‘queer’ out, and it’s pretty obvious it’s autobiographical.”
Her eyes widen at the way the word slips so easily from my mouth, and I forget not everyone lives in a household where a parent sleeps in a MY QUEER KID RULES nightgown. “Your book is about him?”
“It started out being about who I am, in this town. And then Sebastian came along and . . . yeah. It’s about falling for him.”
“Is he . . . ?”
“He’s never told me he’s gay,” I say. Technically, I’m not lying. It is not my place to out him, no matter what. “And he’s still going on his mission, so I assume . . .”
She smiles and takes my hand. “That doesn’t mean he’s not gay, Tann. Lots of Mormons are gay. Lots of missionaries, lots of married men, even.”
“I guess. I’m just . . . bummed.”
Autumn squeezes my fingers. Her cheeks flush just before she asks, “Have you had sex with a guy?”
I shake my head. “Kissed. I had a boyfriend for a few months back home.”
“Wow.” She bites her lip. “The idea of you and Sebastian kissing is . . .”
A laugh bursts out of my throat, and it sounds like relief. “And there she goes. Autumn is back.”
She peppers me with questions, and we decide to drive to the mall.
How did my parents react?
What does Hailey think of it?
Are there other guys at school I’ve liked?
How many guys have I kissed?
Is it different from kissing girls?
Which do I prefer?
Do I ever think I’ll be totally out?
I answer everything—almost. I obviously can’t tell her that kissing Sebastian is better than anything I’ve done, ever.
And, of course, I tell her that as soon as I get to college, I plan to be out. I was out in Palo Alto. The second my wheels hit the state line, I am going to roll down my window and wave my flag.
There’s an undercurrent to the conversation that’s impossible to ignore, an edge of hurt that I didn’t tell her sooner. Luckily, Autumn is easily distracted with hugs, and jokes, and ice cream. A spring inside seems to uncoil.
Autumn knows.
We’re okay.
Spending the rest of the day under the heat of her gentle grilling has the added benefit of not allowing me to obsess over Sebastian being gone, Sebastian not being gay, and—maybe especially—what Manny said back at the lake. It’s great that he’s supportive, I guess, but it still irks me that I’ll probably spend most of my life dividing the people I know into two groups: the people who support me without question and the ones who should. I’m glad that Manny ended up on the right side, but I can’t let myself dive into the rabbit hole of wondering how he knew. I hop between being relieved that it seems obvious to someone and still not a big deal, to worrying that it’s going to be obvious to more people . . . and become a big deal. Please let me just get out of Provo before the shit hits the fan.
He pulls away and then looks at Autumn, who is standing very, very still. Manny looks at me again. “Hey, no, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
He backs off and turns, leaving Auddy and me in a cloud of silence and wind.
“What was that?” Auddy asks, watching him walk away.
“Who knows?” I look at her, preparing some easy explanation in my head. I mean, this is what I do. I’m fast on my feet. I’m usually so fast. But today, I don’t know, maybe I’m tired. Maybe I’m sick of protecting myself. Maybe I’m leveled by Sebastian’s denial. Maybe the hurricane of my feelings and the lies and the half-truths just knocked the covers off my windows and Auddy sees straight through, inside.
“Tanner, what is going on?”
It’s the same voice Sebastian used on the mountain. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.
Just like Sebastian, she does understand. She just wants me to say it.
“I’m . . .” I look up at the sky. A plane flies overhead, and I wonder where it’s headed. “I think I’m in love with Sebastian.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Auddy smiles, but it’s this weird, bright, robot-girl smile. I nearly laugh, because the first thought I have is how much better Sebastian is than Autumn at fake smiling, and how that would be the worst possible thing to let slip out of my mouth right now.
“Let’s talk in the car?” I say.
She turns and walks around to the passenger side just as robotically. I’m in a weird state of shock, where Manny’s words and expression are looping in my head, and I know this conversation with Autumn is about to happen, but I’ve been waiting for it for so long that more than anything, I just feel insane relief.
Her door slams shut. I climb in beside her, sticking the keys in the ignition just to turn on the heat. “So.”
She turns to face me, tucking a leg beneath her. “Okay. What just happened?”
“Well, apparently Manny figured out that I’m into guys.”
She blinks. I know that Autumn is pro-gay rights—she adores Emily and Shivani, she rails about the LDS policy about queer members, and she helped put up flyers for the Provo High Gay-Straight Alliance party last spring. But it’s one thing to support it in theory. It’s another to have it right there, in her life. In her best friend.
“Technically, I’m bi. I’ve known probably forever, but I’ve been sure since I was thirteen.”
She points to her own face. “If I look anything other than fine with this, please understand I’m only upset that you didn’t tell me sooner.”
I shrug. I don’t really need to point out that the timing of me sharing this information isn’t up to her. “Okay. Well, here we are.”
“This feels like a big deal.”
This makes me laugh. “It is a big deal. I’m describing how my heart beats.”
She blinks, confused. “But you made out with Jen Riley sophomore year. I saw you,” she says. “And what about Jessa, Kailley, and Trin? You’ve had sex. With girls.”
“I also made out with you,” I remind her. She flushes, and I point to my chest. “Bi.”
“Wouldn’t it be weird if there was a girl at school—a girl we had talked about, who we both thought was insanely hot, and sweet, and perfect—and I was in love with her and dealing with that on my own and I didn’t say anything to you about it?”
I hadn’t really thought about it this way, and even that hypothetical makes me feel the tiniest bit sad, like all this time I was there, available, invested, and Auddy didn’t come to me because she didn’t trust me. “Yeah, okay, I get that. But in my defense, it’s Provo. And you know my mom. She is, like, militant about this stuff. There’s no room to be anything but one hundred percent on my side. I didn’t want to risk that you’d have any conflict or issue with me.”
“Oh my God. So much makes sense now.” She exhales, long and slow, turning to blow her breath on the window. A cloud of condensation appears, and Autumn draws a heart in it and then takes a Snap, typing an enormous red “WOW” before posting it.
“So, Sebastian,” she says.
“Yeah. Sebastian knows,” I say, intentionally misunderstanding her. “He found out by accident, though. The summary of my book . . . I forgot to take the word ‘queer’ out, and it’s pretty obvious it’s autobiographical.”
Her eyes widen at the way the word slips so easily from my mouth, and I forget not everyone lives in a household where a parent sleeps in a MY QUEER KID RULES nightgown. “Your book is about him?”
“It started out being about who I am, in this town. And then Sebastian came along and . . . yeah. It’s about falling for him.”
“Is he . . . ?”
“He’s never told me he’s gay,” I say. Technically, I’m not lying. It is not my place to out him, no matter what. “And he’s still going on his mission, so I assume . . .”
She smiles and takes my hand. “That doesn’t mean he’s not gay, Tann. Lots of Mormons are gay. Lots of missionaries, lots of married men, even.”
“I guess. I’m just . . . bummed.”
Autumn squeezes my fingers. Her cheeks flush just before she asks, “Have you had sex with a guy?”
I shake my head. “Kissed. I had a boyfriend for a few months back home.”
“Wow.” She bites her lip. “The idea of you and Sebastian kissing is . . .”
A laugh bursts out of my throat, and it sounds like relief. “And there she goes. Autumn is back.”
She peppers me with questions, and we decide to drive to the mall.
How did my parents react?
What does Hailey think of it?
Are there other guys at school I’ve liked?
How many guys have I kissed?
Is it different from kissing girls?
Which do I prefer?
Do I ever think I’ll be totally out?
I answer everything—almost. I obviously can’t tell her that kissing Sebastian is better than anything I’ve done, ever.
And, of course, I tell her that as soon as I get to college, I plan to be out. I was out in Palo Alto. The second my wheels hit the state line, I am going to roll down my window and wave my flag.
There’s an undercurrent to the conversation that’s impossible to ignore, an edge of hurt that I didn’t tell her sooner. Luckily, Autumn is easily distracted with hugs, and jokes, and ice cream. A spring inside seems to uncoil.
Autumn knows.
We’re okay.
Spending the rest of the day under the heat of her gentle grilling has the added benefit of not allowing me to obsess over Sebastian being gone, Sebastian not being gay, and—maybe especially—what Manny said back at the lake. It’s great that he’s supportive, I guess, but it still irks me that I’ll probably spend most of my life dividing the people I know into two groups: the people who support me without question and the ones who should. I’m glad that Manny ended up on the right side, but I can’t let myself dive into the rabbit hole of wondering how he knew. I hop between being relieved that it seems obvious to someone and still not a big deal, to worrying that it’s going to be obvious to more people . . . and become a big deal. Please let me just get out of Provo before the shit hits the fan.
