“My parents will freak!”
“Your parents? They can get in line because I’m not so good myself.” Billy plucked a handful of grass and tossed it into the air and watched it float in staggered jerks across the wind.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you.” Taylor looked at the grass and not at Billy.
“No. You needed to tell me. If you can’t tell your best friend, who can you trust?”
They sat cross-legged in the shadow of the house tucked into the bushes where they played as little kids. It was always safe there, safe from childhood monsters angry parents. the occasional mouse or locust just added to the charm. It was their safe house, their haven. The place where they told their innermost secrets.
“How long have you known?”
“I don’t know. Since I was 12, I guess. Since I saw Sam at the store and thought how beautiful that dark brown hair fell across, oh, god, those eyes. Since when does someone with such dark coloring have such gorgeous blue eyes? Genetics. It just kills me.” Taylor fell back onto the ground, arms and legs splayed in mock despair.
“Man, I totally understand.” Billy flopped back on the ground beside Taylor.
For a few moments only the bird calls and the airplanes overhead broke the silence. Their hands touched. Their fingers intertwined with the intimacy that their long companionship provided.
“Are you sure? Have you actually met someone?” said Billy.
Taylor looked at Billy a long time.
“Yes. I have met someone.”
Billy waited, scarcely breathing, thinking maybe...
“His name is Craig. We met at church youth group after football one Friday last fall.”
Billy frowned, turning over to face Taylor.
“Wait a minute. I was there, wasn’t I? The guy with the kinda-longish dark hair? The one with the--”
Taylor jumped in. “Yes! the one with the band t-shirt, but we’d never heard of the band. Him.”
Billy sat up, leaned on an elbow and asked, “So does he know that you like him?”
“He does now.” Taylor grinned. “I texted him yesterday after I got his number from Diesel at school. I figured I might as go out with a bang. So I texted him and said “hey, we met, I like you. Do you like me?” It was soo third grade.” Taylor flopped back to the ground.
Billy stared away toward the pond behind Taylor’s house. “So what did he do?”
“He wants to meet with me someplace safe so that no one will know. But I don’t know. I think I should tell my parents now. They will absolutely hit the roof. I can hear it now.” Taylor hopped to stand, put one hand on a hip and shook the other hand at Billy, “This is not the way you were raised! Just think of what our friends will say! You can’t see him. You can’t talk to him,” then stared wide-eyed at Billy. “They’ll put me in gender orientation classes. You know they will. I just don’t know if I can do it.”
“But I have to. I can’t help the way I feel. I was born this way. It’s not a choice. Why would someone choose this?”
“Maybe they’ll understand more than you know. They grew up during the struggle. Maybe they’ll remember.”
“But they’ll be so disappointed.”
“No, you don’t know that.” Billy’s voice softened. “Do you want me to come with you?” The fear and pain in Taylor’s eyes were obvious.
“No. I have to do this on my own.” Taylor wiped tears away a shaky hand. “But thank you. They’re both home right now, so it’s as good a time as any.” Taylor stood and began to brush away the leaves and dust.
“Okay. I’m just a text away. I can be here in five minutes. Give me hugs before you go.” Taylor accepted the hug, melted into Billy’s strength for just a moment, then stood up straight, shoulders back and walked toward the back door with just a wave at the last before stepping inside.
Taylor walked into the house trembling with anxiety. It wasn’t going to be easy. The telling part might not be as bad as the living it part, but the telling had to come first. Both parents were in the office working so they didn’t need tracking down. Standing in the doorway, Taylor took a deep breath. “Dad, Papa? I need to talk to you.” Each man turned to give Taylor his undivided attention.
“Sure, sweetheart, what do you need?” Papa was always the sweet one, always loving.
Dad was the strong parent, gruff but tenderhearted, too.
Taylor breathed in deeply. Sometimes those yoga lessons really paid off. “I need to tell you... I need to tell you...that..that I like boys.”
The two men straightened their backs in a way that made them look like bookends.
“Oh, darling,” said Papa. “We’ve been wondering about that. We knew something was bothering you.” Dad cleared his throat as he pushed himself away from his desk.
Papa crossed the room first, his arms held out to Taylor. “It’s okay, sweetheart, we can help you work through this. No one has to know. There are special camps you can go to that will help you understand your orientation. We’ll find you a good psychiatrist. It’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s nothing we can’t fix.”
Taylor’s eyes looked to her dad for help as Papa engulfed her in one of his all encompassing bear hugs, but her dad stood by as Papa tried to soothe her. She pushed her hands against him just hard enough to regain her ground.
"No! I don’t want to fix it. I like boys. I’ve always liked boys. I don’t want to go to some camp to train me to like girls instead.”
Taylor swung her long blond hair behind her shoulders and wiped both eyes with the heels of her hands.
“It seems like you of all people could understand. You’re my parents.” The sob that caught her throat came from deep inside her where the hurt, and the pain, and the shame of being different had been hiding.
“Why can’t I just love whoever I want to? People used to marry who they wanted to. So what if I want to marry a man and have my own children?”
“Taylor, you’ve been watching those awful YouTube videos again. They need to delete all those. The whole childbirth thing went away in the 2030s. All we have to do is go online and check off characteristics we want and place an order. Why would you want to take the risk of getting something you don’t want?”
Taylor struggled against Papa trying to free herself as though being loosed from his grip would free her from the restrictions that gripped her life.
“You must have missed the gene that said I’d love girls, then. You missed checking that one, didn’t you, because I don’t want to marry a girl. I’m 17. I know about boys, and I know what I want.”.
Finally Dad stepped in and patted his husband on the shoulder. “Give her some room, Peter. You two are jumping way far ahead. Taylor, we’ll set you up with a psychiatrist first. Let’s find out where this dysphoria is coming from. We probably need to adjust your medication. I’ll make some calls in the morning. Let’s have dinner, and then we can talk about this less emotionally.
Free from Papa’s embrace, Taylor tried to grind her tears away with the palms of her hands. It didn’t matter what they said. She knew she’d already lost.