Our Own Private Universe. Robin Talley

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didn’t want to be in that room. I wanted to stay out here. Under those stars.

      With Christa.

      We were almost at the church by the time I screwed up the courage. I tried to act casual, sidling up next to her with my hands tucked into the pockets of my borrowed jeans.

      Christa glanced at me, but didn’t say anything.

      “Hey,” I said.

      She didn’t meet my eyes. “Hey.”

      After another minute of walking in silence, I said, “Did I do something wrong?”

      “No.”

      “Is this because of Jake’s petition? Are you annoyed that I signed it?”

      “No.” She looked away. “I wish I could have.”

      “Well.” I didn’t know what to say. I wished she’d signed it, too. “Do you seriously think your parents would find out?”

      “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But they could. It’s easier when I’m at home. They don’t have a reason to question whether I’m straight or not, you know? But with me down here...”

      Right. She meant that back home, her dumb boyfriend Steven made her life easier.

      I didn’t want to hear any more about how great Steven was. It felt as if she’d picked him over me before I’d even had a chance. Maybe she thought I wasn’t worth bothering with after all. The most we ever could’ve had was a summer fling, after all.

      I was so frustrated I could’ve yelled. Instead I swallowed hard.

      Maybe this was going to be it for me. One night. One kiss. That was the whole story of my big summer lesbian experiment.

      “Well if your boyfriend’s so great, what am I even doing here?” I said.

      “Shhh.” Christa wrapped her arms around her chest and swiveled her head from side to side. Checking to see if anyone was listening, probably. I tried to think back to see if I’d said anything incriminating.

      Wait, though—incriminating? Not wanting your family to know was one thing, but Christa was acting as though there was something wrong with just talking to me. Even though the night we’d met, she’d been the one acting all flirty.

      “This isn’t about him,” Christa whispered. “We’re taking a break, remember? I’m only saying that it’s really convenient when I don’t have to worry about my parents finding out I’m, you know, not completely straight.”

      “Would it be so terrible if they did? I mean, they’re going to have to know eventually, right?”

      I realized as I said it, though, that her parents didn’t have to find out, not ever. That was the thing about being bi. If Christa only ever told them about going out with guys, she really could keep it a secret forever.

      I guess that was true for me, too. I’d been thinking of coming out to my parents as inevitable, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I could stay hidden, too, if I wanted to.

      Did I want to?

      “You don’t understand.” Christa turned to look me right in the eyes. “My parents aren’t cool the way your dad is. After I first got my period, my mom sat me down and gave me a speech about how I had to make absolutely sure I never had sex, because if I got pregnant, they wouldn’t support me. That’s literally what she said. ‘We won’t support you.’”

      Wow. I couldn’t imagine my parents saying anything that awful. Not that they’d love me getting pregnant or anything, but they’d help me if it happened, I was sure of that much. “Have they said specific stuff about what would happen if you were gay?”

      “No, but I can guess. They won’t let my brother and me watch any shows with gay characters, even stupid sitcoms. They say shows like that ‘promote an amoral agenda.’ Once when I posted a photo I took of a crowd on the Fourth of July that had two men holding hands in the background, they confiscated my phone and took down my whole Instagram account until I promised to delete the picture.”

      “Wow. I’m sorry. That’s really awful.”

      “Yeah. That’s why I’m so obsessive about this stuff. If they found out I liked girls, they might—I don’t even want to guess. Ground me forever? Refuse to pay for college? Honestly, I don’t know, and I really want to make sure I don’t find out.”

      Now I felt bad for being annoyed at her.

      We were almost at the entrance of the church. Only a few people were still outside, and they were all way too engrossed in their own conversations to listen to us.

      “Look.” My heart was pounding so hard it was embarrassing. “I—Look, you know... I like you, okay? And it’s okay if you don’t actually like me that much. I mean, I know you already have a boyfriend and everything—it’s only that last night I thought maybe you kind of did, you know, like me. So...”

      Christa stopped walking. I stopped, too. She stared at me.

      Then she looked around. Almost everyone had disappeared into the darkness of the church.

      Christa grabbed my hand and ran, pulling me behind her.

      I stumbled after her, trying to figure out what she was doing, trying to figure out how to ask. Then she pulled me behind the dark church wall and kissed me, hard.

      It was totally different from our kisses the night before. Those had been slow and warm and sweet.

      This one was fierce. Visceral.

      It took me a second to start kissing her back, but once I did, I couldn’t stop. She was delicious. She was incredible. And for that moment, she was all mine.

      She pushed me against the cement wall. It was hard and cold against my back. Somehow that felt incredible, too.

      We were crushed together, her hand tight on the back of my neck, my hand on her hip holding her in place. I’d never kissed anyone like this before. As if I was kissing her with my whole body.

      Somewhere in the back of my brain, I knew that anyone could walk out and see us at any moment. That idea only made me wrap my arm around her waist and hold her even closer.

      She slid down so she was kissing my neck, moving back to my ear. The sudden shock of air on my lips was so intense that I had to do something. Say something. I murmured, low, unintelligible words. I wasn’t even sure what they were. Oh, my God, maybe.

      That tiny murmur must’ve been what snapped her out of it. Christa pulled back a few inches, her eyes blinking into consciousness.

      I gazed back at her. I don’t know how my face looked—I felt lost, dazed, unfocused—but hers was beautiful.

      Her eyes tore away from mine, darting left, then right. There was no one around.

      “We should go someplace else,” Christa whispered.

      I nodded. “There are hills around here, too.”

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