Page 50 of Every Step She Takes
Vera lowers her camera and asks the next logical question. “Have you ever been sexually attracted to a woman before?”
“No,” I answer quickly. Because I haven’t. Not really.
Sure, I’ve had celebrity crushes, and I’ve had unusually intense friendships with other girls that in retrospectmayhave been crushes. But I’ve never looked at a woman and imagined touching her.
I’ve neverletmyself look. I never let myself imagine.
Last night comes into focus: sitting on a toilet seat as Mal leaned over me with a pair of kitchen scissors. Mal standing between my open legs to get the right angle, Mal tilting forward to reveal her prominent collarbone, the tops of her small breasts, the compass tattoo across her sternum. Mal smelling like sandalwood and spring in Seattle, fingertips on the back of my neck, fingernails across my scalp, all while I sat perfectly still, terrified to move, terrified to breathe. Terrified of everything.
And later: Mal on the bed, her body heat and her sardine breath. Her hand on my thigh, my head on her shoulder, a simple intimacy that felt anything but simple in that moment. It felt enormous, and terrifying, and—
Andoh. Oh shit.
“Asexuality exists on a spectrum. You might experience limited sexual attraction, or only experience it rarely,” she says. “It’s not black and white, but in my experience, nothing is.”
We start tracing the coastline again. Rebecca and Ro are out of earshot, and Inez and Mal aren’t even visible. They haven’tbeen for the last ten minutes. What does it mean that I’m always aware of where Mal is in space?
“I was initially afraid to sign up for this trip,” Vera says quietly. “I know there are people in the community who don’t think asexual people are queer. But to me, queerness is about existing outside of the heteronorm when it comes to sex and love, and no one is more out of the norm than aroace people. The entire world revolves around sex and romance, and not participating in those things can be so incredibly isolating.”
Feeling alienated at every girls’ night out, keeping everyone at arm’s length, training the people in my life to never ask too many questions. “Yeah,” I agree. “It really can be.”
“You have a crush.”
The accusation is whispered in my ear an hour later as I walk up an impossibly steep hill, and I trip over my own feet. I nearly go down, but a hand latches on to my elbow and keeps me from eating asphalt.
When I’m stable again, I turn to see Mal smirking at me. “I-I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really?” The smirk intensifies. It’s unfair that she has a face so suited to playfully mocking expressions. Her eyebrows are spring-loaded for surprise and her bowed mouth easily twists into a sideways smile.
The only thing my face is suited for is blushing and telegraphing my every thought. I assume I’m doing both now, which is why Mal says, “Don’t be embarrassed! I also have a habit of developing crushes on every pretty girl who’s nice to me.”
Her hand is still on my elbow, and I gently tug it away as we continue up the vertical hill, my thighs and glutes burning as ferociously as my blush.
“And if she’s completely off-limits. Oof.” Mal presses a hand to her chest, drawing attention to that cavernous clavicle and her usual bralessness under her gray tank. “Be still my beating heart.”
I wish my beating heart would be still, but it’s hammering wildly inside my chest as several things become abundantly clear.
One: I do have a crush.
Two: And it’s on Mal.
And three: Mal humiliatingly knew about it before I did. She knows I have a fucking crush on her.
“Off-limits?” I echo.
“Yeah, that’s what makes it perfect! It’s a totally safe crush for your second adolescence!”
“Perfect?” I can barely breathe, and I’m not sure if it’s from the hill or my increasing mortification.
“You have your first lesbian crush!” She punches me in the arm in a celebratory fashion, and this is becoming the weirdest interaction I’ve ever had with another person. “At least, I’m assuming it’s your first lesbian crush.”
We finally reach the top of the hill and turn left toward what appears to be a neighborhood or the outskirts of a small village. Below, we have a remarkable view of the coast. I use the view as an excuse to pause and take a drink of water.
If I’ve ever had a lesbian crush before, it’s been a secret to everyone, including me.
And if I’ve had a crush before, it didn’t feel likethis.
“Letting yourself develop a crush is a big step in your queer adolescent journey.” She throws an arm around my shoulders in an entirely too-platonic fashion. “This is awesome.”
