Teenage Lesbian: Part 1

Sam walks home with her head down, headphones drowning out the world. A pack of kids spots her, closes in, tears the earbuds out. Someone spits 'dyke' against her ear before they shove her into a dumpster and walk off laughing. The insults still echo as she lies there, trash sticking to her skin, cheeks hot with tears. Two hours later she sits in the kitchen holding a bag of frozen peas to her swelling eye while her father circles the room, demanding answers she refuses to give. Eventually he tells her she’s eighteen now and needs to start acting it. When he pulls the bag away, the black eye stares back at him; she turns her face to the wall. Two weeks later the bruise has yellowed. In class she sketches in the margin of her notebook until a folded note lands on her desk: Nicole, the girl two rows back, asking if she wants to partner on the literature project. Sam glances back, nods once. Nicole smiles. That afternoon Sam reads passages from the book aloud while Nicole lies on her bed taking notes. They’ve never really spoken before. Sam’s never had a close girl friend she wasn’t secretly attracted to, and Nicole is everything she is not—outgoing, popular, the kind of beauty who always has a boyfriend. Every time Nicole leans closer to comment on the text, Sam feels the air shift. Nicole asks why Sam skipped her birthday party. Sam shrugs it off. Their eyes meet. Silence stretches. Nicole’s gaze keeps drifting, and Sam’s pulse climbs. Then Nicole yawns, stretches, and suggests they nap together. Sam’s stomach knots, but she climbs onto the bed. They lie still under the covers, the only sound the quick rhythm of their breathing. Nicole’s hand disappears between her own thighs. Sam, heart hammering, follows suit. Moments later Nicole reaches over, guides Sam’s fingers onto her slick heat, and they touch each other in slow, deliberate strokes, breathing hard, never speaking.