Narrator: Penelope Lee
I didn’t know if this party came to me as a blessing, or more accurately, a path to peace of mind, or as torture for my “sins”. I was coming to terms with it, for sure, and I had made it real by telling someone about it; perhaps that was a good thing. But to see CJ’s heart broken by it, was torture. Even more so, to see CJ finding consolation for it with that bitch with the nice boobs whose giving him hickeys. Although, I probably have no right to call her a bitch, given all that she’s been through tonight with Greg.
Gosh, when I saw Greg and Kieth together and noticed those shimmering eyes of tears on Crystal’s face, knowing not her name, but her relationship with Greg – a sharp pain went through my heart. And It wasn’t because of the gayness.
I wanted to comfort her and I wanted to hug her as I breathed in the scent of her shampoo. But that’s exactly why I didn’t. I knew that if I were left alone with that girl, in a room, my body would give in. I didn’t know the limits of what it would and could do yet, and there was no way I was going to experiment on someone I barely knew.
The punch bowl had been refilled, unspiked. I put the glass down in distaste. I knew there was alcohol in it, and that was the only reason why I drank it; in hopes it would allow me to forget, or perhaps even drive away the germ that had settled down to taunt me with mixed feelings, hormones and sexual desire. I do not say love, because I do not know it anymore. I have doubts of what it feels like and where it takes you. It is a realm I had thought I’d covered before, but in the other team, there are others to discover.
I looked out the window to the pool and found Junior gnawing at Crystal’s neck once more. Josh sat diagonally from them and I wondered about him. I had once assumed he was gay, but the way he looked at Kieth and Greg made me think otherwise. He was interesting, that one. Not as outgoing as the others, but not as depressed and mentally unstable as CJ was. I couldn’t figure him out. Wait – what am I saying? He’s normal. Not interesting, but normal. Oh, how I envy him.
My sister is normal. She’s not lesbian. She’s like my parents. Nowadays, I’m starting to get scared Sheena. The normality of her is part of the reason, and also, I’m afraid if I talk too much or do too much - she’d notice.
Then she would look at me, like she’s always done when I made a crude joke or didn’t clean my mouth with a napkin at regular intervals, only worse. She’s able to notice the smallest, most trivial things, so I wonder – how long can I hide this colossal, pus-oozing pimple of mine? My dilemma. My ghost.
Kieth’s and Greg’s moans and groans got louder and I could hear them from downstairs. They were rather comforting now. Made me feel less alone, not only in the physical sense of me being the only one in the kitchen, but the symbol of hope. They were happy up there doing whatever they were doing, and one day, I could be carefree and joyful like that too.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud...
Someone with the same Keds shoes as me was walking up the stairs. The sound became twice as powerful, and I found myself sitting by Kieth’s room – smiling.