the details right didn’t matter quite so much.
This was my chance to see if I really liked girls. It would be an experiment. The coolest experiment ever.
Suddenly I felt very sophisticated. Or, as Christa had said, modern. Why should we have to stick to rules about monogamy that some old white guys made up a million years ago? We were young. We should be having fun.
Christa was looking at me expectantly.
“I...um...” I sounded horribly inarticulate after all that amazing stuff she’d said about universes. “It would be a total secret, right?”
Christa nodded. Good. I couldn’t picture going up to Dad after he was done leading us in one of his long, rambling prayers at vespers and telling him I was bisexual. Or anything-sexual.
Come to think of it, we were probably already late for vespers. Oh, well.
Christa was still watching me. Waiting.
I took a step closer to her. She looked right at me. The smile was in her eyes as much as her lips.
Oh, God. We were going to kiss.
I thought I’d be nervous, but I wasn’t.
I felt awesome, actually. Better than I remembered feeling in, well, ever.
So when Christa stepped toward me, I didn’t wait. I leaned over and pressed my lips against hers.
I could feel her smiling as she kissed me back.
And...oh.
She tasted like the sky.
Kissing her felt sweet and strong and urgent all at the same time. As though we were made to kiss each other.
We didn’t bump against each other awkwardly, the way I usually did with boys. Instead we kissed gently. Slowly.
I’d never kissed anyone that way before. As though it really meant something. I wasn’t sure what it meant, exactly, but I didn’t care.
After that things got kind of—well—intense. She ran her hands along my back. I played with her hair. It turned out the pink streak wasn’t real. It was just clipped in, as I discovered when I accidentally pulled it out. We both giggled at that, but only for a second, because kissing required every bit of attention we had.
When we finally pulled apart, I felt breathless and raw, and it was getting dark. I should’ve been worried—we were late for vespers, and we were out in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country—but my heart was beating too hard to focus on anything but Christa.
She looked as if she felt the same way. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled. Our arms were still wrapped around each other, and our breasts were touching through our clothes. I thought again about that bra strap poking out from her tank top earlier. I was getting flushed, too.
“We should go to vespers,” I said. “Dad will notice if I’m not there.”
“Okay.”
But we didn’t let go.
I closed my eyes, but I could still see the stars overhead.
“We should, um.” I tried not to think about how she felt. “We should go.”
We kissed again. And again after that.
The stars were all around us, spinning, whirling, carrying me off with them into the sky.
By the time we finally left those hills, kissing Christa was the only thing I ever wanted to do.
If I Was Your Girlfriend
“So did you full-on hook up or just make out?”
“Shut it, Lori!” I darted my head from side to side. No one was close enough to hear, but still. “Discretion, please!”
Lori laughed. “I need to know if it counts toward the tally. Three hookups, remember?”
“Well, this definitely counts as one.”
“Mmm, I’m not sure. Did you only go to first base?”
I put my hands on my hips, tucking the ball of pale purple thread I was untangling into my palm. “That’s none of your business!”
“Yeah, right.” Lori laughed again.
She had a point. I’d been dying to tell Lori what happened ever since Christa and I stopped kissing last night. Actually, maybe even before that. I vaguely remembered looking forward to telling Lori about kissing Christa while I was still actively in the process of kissing Christa.
But I had to wait. By the time we got to vespers that night the meeting was already halfway over, and there was no chance to talk. Christa and I had slunk in through the shadows from the candlelight while Señor Suarez played hymns on a beautiful old twelve-string guitar. We’d kept our heads bent as if we were praying. Dad didn’t say anything about it, so he must’ve thought we were there the whole time.
All through the prayers and the singing, it was impossible to act normal. I kept running my fingers over my lips and sneaking glances at Christa. She was glancing at me, too.
After vespers, we all walked back to the old church in a big group. Then we waited in line to use one of the two indoor toilets. (Everyone hated the porta-potties. Some of the guys had started peeing outside so they wouldn’t have to wait in line. It was so gross.)
After that we went to bed in the dark again. All around us, people talked and laughed and acted as if it were any other night. For them, I guess it was.
Now, finally, I had my chance to tell Lori all the details. We were sitting on the blanket outside the work site. In a couple of hours we’d meet with the local girls and teach them a simple lanyard knot to make friendship bracelets. That should keep them busy for a few days at least. We had to sort the thread first, though. It had come out of Lori’s suitcase pocket in a big tangled pile.
“It’s weird,” I said. “This is the first time I’ve ever seriously been into a girl, and the thing is, I don’t remember ever liking a guy as much as I like her. So what’s that about? I mean, I could be just as into a guy, right? I’ve been into guys before, but not this much. What I’m saying is, this doesn’t mean I’m not bi anymore, does it?”
I’d never thought this much about what it really meant to be bi. I should probably be talking to Christa about it instead of Lori, since Christa would relate more, but I couldn’t exactly analyze our relationship with her.
I’d already told Lori all about Christa’s boyfriend situation, though, and Lori, at least, seemed to think it was perfectly normal. Apparently her mom was always watching some old TV show where couples were constantly taking breaks and having flings and fighting with their significant others about it. Once Lori told me that, I actually felt weirdly better about the whole situation.
“Well?” I asked Lori now. “What do you think?”
Lori looked up from the threads that wound between her fingers. “I’ve got to be honest, Aki, babe, I didn’t quite follow all that.”
“It’s only—I should know by now, shouldn’t I? If I’m straight or gay or bi or, I don’t know, whatever? I mean, I’m fifteen already. If I haven’t figured this out yet, am I ever going to?”
Lori frowned. “I don’t know. I think I’ve always known I was straight. I never thought I might be anything else, at least. Well, there was that girl at camp one time who I thought I had a crush on but we were, like, eight, so...”
“Yeah, see? You’re supposed to have always known. Crap. What if I never hook