I can't save you from me [Pride Month short story]

We were both drunk. A lot of my good stories start this way and, I guess, some of the bad ones do too. But this is a good one, maybe the best one yet.

Samantha and I were drunk, laying on her bed, trying to not make much noise. We had just come back from a party her parents didn’t know about. It’s not that they wouldn’t approve us going to a high school party on a Friday night, it’s that they would be too cool with it, arriving at the party with liquor and trying to become friends with the popular kids. We had a general rule of sleeping at her house when it was party night but we’d never tell her parents that we were going to a party. Sneaking out was safer, since even if we did get caught, they wouldn’t say anything and would help us with hangovers without embarrassing Sam to death.

As for my parents, they were sure we went to bed at 10.

“He was so sure he’d get laid tonight.” Sam whispered, trying not to laugh out loud “As if I would get anywhere near Tom’s bunk bed”

“He’s so cocky” I replied as if what she said was the funniest thing I ever heard

“I have to agree with you about that. If you know what I mean.”

I burst out laughing so loud I got a punch from Samantha but then she laughed too and we stayed laughing quietly for about five minutes. I couldn’t even see the ceiling above me, this is how intoxicated I was.

“He wasn’t even a good kisser though, so who cares?” Sam said after we stopped laughing.

“No?” I said, confused. I didn’t even know what she was talking about anymore. Five minutes in, I was surprised her drunk brain had that ability of concentration.

“Nope” She confirmed “He kissed like he was trying to retrieve a coin from the bottom of a bottle. Like who taught you how to kiss, you know?”

“Who taught you how to kiss?” I asked, sitting on the bed. Terrible idea, the room opened up like a universe in front of me. I was so dizzy.

“Uh, my cousin. Who taught you how to kiss?”

“No one taught me how to kiss. People don’t just go around kissing people to teach them the right way to kiss.” I blinked “And wait, did you just say your cousin taught you how to kiss?”

“People who are bad kissers don’t, good kissers do. And second cousin.” What was our train of thought? “You’ve met my family, don’t look at me like that.”

I didn’t even know what face I was making as I looked at her “I can’t believe you fell for that. There’s no right way to kiss. Some are good and some are bad or whatever but none of them are wrong.”

“And that’s where you are wrong. I can’t believe no one taught you how to kiss.”

“Sorry if there’s no paedo cousins on my family.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Samantha said but she was laughing hard “She is my age. About six months older, I think.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

I was drunk, so it came out: “Oh, she was a girl”

“I’m not letting a boy stuck his tongue inside my mouth to teach me how to stuck my tongue inside other boys’ mouths. Some things can only be learned girl on girl.”

“You speak with propriety.”

“And you speak with ignorance. Girl, I trusted you to be a good kisser all this long and now I have my doubts.”

“What difference does it make?” I said, closing my eyes. The sleep was coming to me finally and I couldn’t wait to slip in.

“As your new found best friend it’s my obligation to make sure that whoever kisses you gets the most improved experience ever.”

“No one who kissed me ever complained.”

“But did they praise your kisses?”

I opened my eyes and gave her a crossed stare. “I don’t know where you’re trying to get, Samantha.”

Sam smiled. “How do you kiss?”

“I slowly open my lips…”

“No, idiot, show me.”

I blinked again, staring at her with my mouth open. “I’m not kissing you.”

“Chicken.”

“Fuck you, Samantha. You won’t manipulate me to do this.”

“You’re not the slightest bit curious?”

I was. My heart was banging on my chest and my mouth was very very dry. I decided that the alcohol was responsible for all of this and just slipped under the blankets, letting the sleepiness get the best of me. “Go to sleep, Samantha.” I said before falling asleep myself. “You’re drunk.”

--

The next morning, Sam barely said any word to me except to mutter something about going on the shower. My head was burning and my mouth was dry and I couldn’t even think straight so I didn’t notice she was weird at first. When she finally came out of the shower, 

she pointed out the weirdness herself.

“About the things I said last night, I’m sorry” She said as I was getting up to go on the shower myself. “I’m such a sexual predator.”

“You were drunk. I was drunk. You didn’t touch me.” I said, breathing slowly. “Don’t call yourself that.”

“Drunk people can’t consent, so.”

I walked to her and helped her put her hair on a ponytail like I always did when we were at 

school.

“Again, you didn’t touch me. How are you more touchy feely about this than I am?”

She smiled and I suddenly remembered the feeling that filled me when she asked if I was curious about her kiss. My heart was against my ribcages again and I was afraid I’d blush. I didn’t want to pull back too fast, so I slowly let go of her hair.

“I just don’t want to turn into my parents.” She simply put, with a little shy smile.

I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to turn into her amazing, cool parents on that moment (probably because I was still so flustered), but that turned clear until later that morning.

We were sitting at Sam’s kitchen island with a survivor kit for hangovers in front of us laughing about Samantha’s story of last night’s terrible making out session. Everything was perfectly normal until her mom said “You guys did make a lot of noise last night.”

“Yeah, we let the sexual frustration get the best of us so we angry-fucked” I joked.

The room immediately fell silent. Like that dead, consistent silence that you can feel in your skin. “I was joking” I felt forced to clarify.

“Don’t joke about that.” Sam asked, swallowing hard.

“Yes, sweetie” Her mom said. “Nothing funny about being gay. Or two best friends ruining a perfectly great friendship with this. Focus on the boys so you can find a better one than the bottle sucker of last night.” She continued to talk, bringing back the fun mood between her and her husband.

I couldn’t even concentrate on anything except locking my jaw up so my chin didn’t fall on the ground. I looked at Samantha who gave me an all-knowing smile.

And suddenly, I understood everything.

--

Flash forward to Monday afternoon. We were both sitting at the bus stop waiting to go home. We would do that every day in high school. That’s how we became friends. We realized that we’d spend most of our days together, being in class together and walking to the bus stop to take the same bus every day. So why not turn this into a friendship?

“So I guess you should be taking safe haven in my house as well”, I said, after the silence became uncomfortable.

“What?”

“You know, when your parents are attacking the very essence of who you are”

Samantha raised her eyebrow. Crossed her arms. Looked at me defiantly. Then just sighed “Am I really that queer?”

“You kinda gave it away when you implied that girls are better kissers”

“That’s a known fact, not my fault if you’re an ignorant little hetero.”

I didn’t want to mention what she made me feel that night so I just ignored the teasing. “Are you going to be okay?”, I asked.

“Yeah. Just two more years until college. As long as I’m still kissing boys, they won’t know anything.”

“Are you even into boys?”, I asked, not looking at her.

But I could feel she looking at me as she said “I’m only into one person right now. And I have no reason to think they’re into me.”

--

“You get 21 questions”

We were drunk again, but this time at my house. My parents obviously had no idea - they were asleep for hours when Sam silently took a bottle of vodka out of her sleeping bag.

“Like the game?”, I asked, rolling around my bed to look at her under me.

“No, not like the game. You get to ask me 21 questions. About me being a certified gay mess. I’ll only answer to those questions and then we will pretend this never happened until graduation day.”

I wondered if she knew that was all I could think about for days. I was doing my best to give her space and not be all over her at all times. Maybe my staring gave it away anyway, but it was probably a good sign that she still decided to go sleep on my house that weekend.

“Lizzie?” Sam called my name, as I was quiet for too long. “It’s okay if you don’t want to ask me anything…”

“When did you know?” I let out at once.

Sam breathed slowly “When my cousin kissed me. I know. It’s creepy. But it’s how I realized I wanted to kiss girls all the time, forever.”

I smiled and thanked the heavens for the darkness of my room. It was only because both of us were whispering and she couldn’t see my face that I asked the second question “Have you ever slept with a girl?”

 “Yeah, actually” Sam answered, simply. I heard the noise of her drinking from the vodka bottle and waited. “Just one, though. College girl. I was 15. Again, creepy, but it’s not easy to find openly queer people around here and you can’t judge my journey.”

“I’m not judging your journey, what are you so paranoid about?”

Sam stayed silently for so long I started to get nervous. Her breathing was calm and I could 

feel her eyes on me, so I told myself to get it together. “I’m just… I’m trying to make you feel like it’s okay. That I’m okay.”

“Why would I feel like you’re not?”

“My parents. My story. My behavior.”

“You could think the same about me.”

“It’s different.”

“Different how?”

Sam sighed. “Just ask me something else.”

I took the bottle from her and drank it like it was my job, then laid on my back looking at the ceiling, with the vodka getting my body warmer. “What are you so afraid of?”, I asked.

“Myself” She said.

“Why?”

“Because all my life people tell me that the things I am and the things I need are wrong.”

“They’re not.” I said.

“That’s easy to say.”

“They’re really not, Sam. Damn it. You are an amazing person. An amazing friend. You’re smart, talented, beautiful. Everyone wants to get in your pants or be you. And you fall under the LGBTQIA umbrella so you’re also brave and unique.”

“Someone should get you to speak at pride.”

“Shut up, Samantha.”

She laughed and when she went ahead talking, it felt more lightheaded “It would take you a little longer to convince me I’m not wrong for existing.”

“I have time.” I said. My heart immediately went back to my ears. “Anyway. Stop making me flustered or we’ll awake my parents.”

“Not my fault if you get this annoyed by my self-deprecation.”

“You’re too good for that.”

“I hate that you think this way.” Sam said, even more silently.

“Why?”

“Because you believe in me too much. And I can’t save you from the real me.”

I got to the end of the bed, doing my best not to make any noise. I looked at Sam in the dark and all I saw was a shadow, so I got a little closer and said “You’re telling me that the real you isn’t the vodka drunk self-deprecating bitch whispering about gay stuff in the dark at 3 a.m. so we don’t wake up my parents? How much worse can this get?”

Sam burst out laughing but, as the situation asked for silence, she did her best to laugh in silence, which made it look like her dark blur was having a seizure and making sick dog sounds. That made me laugh, but I was so close to the edge of the bed, I ended up falling over Sam and we both moaned loudly with pain before laughing again.

“Shhh. Okay, that’s enough.” I whispered, still laying over her, but now with my hands over her mouth. “If they wake up and find us like this with the bottle of vodka, I’m killing you before they kill me.”

Sam raised her hands surrendering herself and we both stayed quiet, waiting to hear anything, for a really long time. I could only hear the wind outside and Sam breathing. I could also feel her breathing on my hand and suddenly that became uncomfortable, so I took it out. I didn’t move, though, and I was so close I could see her face getting flustered and her lips opening up, letting the vodka breath out. Her skin was incredibly warm under mine and I remember thinking that was an accomplishment, considering how hot I was myself, with my heart making my whole skin burn.

Sam tried to move under me “I-“

I kissed her before she could finish the sentence. She was surprised at first but I felt her body relax like it said “Finally!” and suddenly she took control. She rolled over to get on top, got her hand right tangled in my hair and her left hand pulled my pajama shirt and started to play with the skin on my stomach. I didn’t know how she was doing all of that. I didn’t know which part of my numbness and lightheadedness was her and which part was vodka.

She pulled away abruptly after what felt like forever and not enough time. “See?” She whispered. “What I want is so wrong.” She was about to get off the top of me but I grabbed her waist and got her back to me.

“Funny you’d say that.” I said, breathless, looking and her swollen lips “All I can think about right now is how right you were.”

“About kissing?”

“About the things you can only learn from another girl.”