“So do you just like frying pans?” Allessia said, as she popped another grape into her mouth.
“Or are pots okay as well?” Kallie added. I laugh, because I’m not sure what else to do. I mean, when someone makes fun of my sexuality, realistically what else am I supposed to do? The joke is so stupid. It’s because I’m pansexual, and I guess it sounds like I like pans and stuff. How is that funny?
“It’s really not that hard to understand, we like anyone, no matter what their gender is.” Maisie jumps in.
“So like, pots and pans included?” Allessia interrupts, laughing, her eyes squinted, like in that one scene in A Christmas Story, where the bully laughs like a weasel. I look down at my lunch sheepishly. The joke isn’t even funny.
“Okay, can you guys stop, the joke isn’t funny anymore…” my voice falls on deaf ears. Kallie rolls her eyes and the conversation about pots, pans, and skillets continues around the lunch table.
Maisie and I exchange looks at each other. We’ve only gone to the same school this year, but we met once during summer swim team. We’re not that close, I actually just finally broke my habit of accidentally calling her Maisie with a ‘s’ sound instead of Maisie with a ‘z’.
After lunch Maisie comes up to me and we walk to our next class period together. “I don’t like that joke, it’s not funny anymore,” she pauses, “It’s actually never been funny.”
“Yeah, same,” I say.
We stopped sitting with those girls at lunch after that.
“I joined wrestling,” Maisie tells me at our empty lunch table. It’s just her and I, and sometimes an unlucky kid who quietly sits across from us when they get kicked out of their friend group, but it’s always temporary.
“That’s awesome!” I grab her hands. We’ve grown so close this past month. She’s this wonderful, weird, amazing person. We never judge each other when we talk about ridiculously dumb stuff or super personal things. It’s nice. It’s refreshing. It’s us.
“There’s this one boy, he’s really cute. I think his name is Gram, or something,” she says. I immediately have a bad feeling about this.
“That’s great!” I’m not going to tell her how I actually feel, because I have no reason to be on-edge. “Do you think he likes you?”
I don’t remember what her answer was, I was too busy trying to bury the bad feeling in my stomach.
“Gram was telling me how much he wished he was in my grade!” Maisie says with this happy little look in her eyes. I have never seen anyone more happy as they sit down in a crowded, loud, cafeteria reeking of the smell of burnt popcorn.
“The look” is a look I’ve gotten used to, because she’s head over heels obsessed with this Gram guy. He’s her boyfriend now, and there haven’t been any red flags, but I can’t help but feel like this will end badly.
“Yeah, but you get bragging rights, because he’s a 7th grader,” I tell her, smiling. I’m lucky I’m able to hide my emotions so well. “Hey, we should have a sleepover sometime.” I change the subject though, because their relationship makes me a little, I don’t know how to put it. Jealous? Annoyed?
“Oh, we can’t,” her voice hushes and her smile immediately disappears. I mean, I don’t like this Gram guy, but the happiness he brings her is a million times better than whatever this feeling is.
“What do you mean?” I’m so confused right now.
“Well the house is really empty right now,” her hush turns to a whisper, “I’m moving.”
My stomach twists in knots I didn’t even know existed.
“What? You’re joking right?” I half-heartedly laugh. This can’t be real, but it feels like it is, and my instincts are almost always right.
“No.” Her eyes look a little glossy, then she changes her posture so I can’t see her face.
“Oh.” I grab her hand and squeeze it. We eat the rest of lunch being the only kids in the cafeteria who are completely silent.
———————————————————————————————————————–
“Gram broke up with me,” Maisie admitted the next day in school, her eyes having leaked small tears trailing down her freckled cheeks.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” I didn’t like him very much, but she had been happy, and that’s all that mattered. “What happened?”
“He said that he felt like we had gone from friends to more than friends way too quickly, and that he wants to go back to the way things used to be.” I can tell she is as confused about what that means as I am.
I raise my eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” she looks at her food that’s now contaminated with her tear drops, “but I wish I was dead.”
“Oh, yeah, that sucks,” I say, ignoring the off-key comment, “but it’s going to be okay, right?”
“No, it’s not.” Her eyes get this far off look, and it kind of scares me.
“Uh, yes it will,” I bluntly counter.
“No, it’s not. It’s not going to be okay,” she says and she starts holding her fork with a harder grip.
“What are you talking about?” I put my hand on her shoulder, “It will hurt for a little but you’ll get over it one day.”
“Why don’t you understand? I want to die!” She quickly stands up, dumps her tray, and goes to the bathroom. I think it would be weird if I follow her so I don’t.
Lunch isn’t the same anymore. Maisie and I eat lunch next to each other, but in complete silence. Then she dumps her tray and goes into the bathroom until lunch is over. After she leaves, I wander around outside like a complete psycho waiting for recess to end. We almost never talk, and if we do it’s me who starts the conversation.
Today though, I couldn’t take it. When she gets up to dump her tray I follow her.
I stop for a minute, this kind of feels weird, like I’m stalking her or something. I want to turn around and go outside, but I can’t. I need to know what she’s been doing, so I keep walking and stop at the door. I hear sad whimpers and sniffles coming from inside the girl’s bathroom.
“Maisie?” I peer around the corner, and see her bright pink high tops with rainbow laces in the farthest stall from the door, “Maisie are you okay?”.
“Go away!” I think she tries to yell, but it comes out in a sort of choked whisper.
I walk up to the stall, “Maisie, what’s wrong?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“You’re my best friend and I love you so much,” I tell her, and I mean it. “Something’s wrong, and it’s really obvious. It is most definitely my business because I need to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” her voice cracks. I know she’s lying and she does too. She pauses and sniffles, “Actually, no, I’m not okay.”
“How not okay?” I ask.
She shyly steps out of the stall, her arms wrap around me and she rests her chin on my shoulder.
“I want to kill myself,” she whispers hoarsely, “please don’t tell anyone.”
I stand there completely frozen from her words, as she stays in my arms. I feel numb to this entire reality. I don’t know what to do, I want to tell someone but I also don’t want to betray her trust. She is the most wonderful person on this entire earth, and losing her in any way would break my heart.
Our lunches are still quiet and weird and uncomfortable, and I hate it. I want to tell someone about Maisie, but I don’t know how and I just know it would destroy our friendship. This all sucks. It sucks. It sucks. It sucks. And I’m going to fix it somehow.
When I get home no one is there, my sisters and mom are probably at the park. I open a Safe2Tell form and fill out the questions. I scroll down and see the daunting navy blue Submit button. I want to puke, and my throat tightens so I feel like I can’t breathe. This will ruin our friendship and I know it, but I want to help her before anything really awful happens. My fingers are frozen and my palms are sweaty. I will ruin my friendship if I press this button. I don’t want to lose the most perfect person in the world. I don’t want to be lonely.
But I will.
I will ruin my friendship.
I will lose the most perfect person in the world.
I will be lonely.
I will press that button.
I don’t know what delusion I was living in when I woke up this morning thinking it would be a normal day. The sunlight was seeping through my window, I could hear the birds chirping like in a fairytale.
Then the entire happy mood disappeared and it felt like someone had literally slapped me across the face. At lunch I’m all by myself, Maisie is sitting with a girl from her wrestling team, who she doesn’t even know that well.
Nobody sits with me today, so I look like a total freak.
I glance at the table Maisie is sitting at. I see her looking at me and whispering to another girl. The girl laughs and so does Maisie, but I can see the hurt in her eyes. I don’t regret reporting her, but I wish that everything could go back to the way it was.
I sit down at the corner seat of my empty table, I don’t even want to eat. It’s been a month since I’ve talked to Maisie and the world is so unlivable. P.E. is awful, no one jogs with me, so I’m all alone as my face turns red from exhaustion. In science, I don’t have anyone to give my sticky notes with silly drawings of things that pop into my head, while the teacher drones on and on about sedimentary rocks.
I’ve always been scared of being alone, but when all is said and done, you’re alone for a reason. I know I did the right thing, but I feel like I’ve done something wrong.
———————————————————————————————————————–
The next day, my teacher lets my class out early today, so I already have my lunch by the time most of the kids start rushing into the cafeteria. I stare down at my tray. I don’t even like PB&J’s, but it doesn’t matter because it’s not like I’m hungry anyways.
“Are you doing swim team this summer?” I don’t recognize the voice right away, but it sounds familiar. I look to my right and the depressing cafeteria lights almost suddenly seem brighter, and the table feels full even though no one is there but us.
The girl sitting next to me has long strawberry blonde hair that frames her face perfectly and drapes over a pansexual pin on her sweater. Her gold wire aviator glasses make her look straight out of the 70’s, and the gap in her front teeth makes her the most lovable dork on Earth. I get butterflies. I betrayed her, but is she forgiving me?
Maisie smiles sheepishly, “Hi Kat.”
