Page 36 of Kiss Me, Maybe

“Angela…” She pats my arm. “Youdidlead him on and get him fired.”

“I never told him to ply me with free drinks; he made that choice himself.” I let out a sigh when her expression doesn’t change. “I know I’m partly to blame, but in my defense, I never know what to do when guys come on strong. I just wanted to flirt a little, not actually date the guy.”

“No angel, despite your name.” She laughs when my mouth drops open.

“I took the chameleon thing too far,” I concede. “But I guess that wasn’t the first time either.”

“What do you mean?”

I’ve avoided my cousins for too long. I’ll have to deal with them at some point, clean up the fallout, but I don’t know where to start. Maybe talking about it is the first step. I’ve told her most of what happened, but I still haven’t gotten my feelings off my chest.

“I’m sick of my cousins,” I confess. “I get that I’m the one who fucked up. I lied to them instead of telling them how I really felt. I thought it’d be a better way to get my cousins to back off than the truth, and I was right.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Krystal says, punching a fist into her palm. “And I’m more than willing to teach them a lesson for you.”

“As nice as it is to have someone willing to fight my battles for me, I haven’t even gotten to the worst part.” Her brows furrow, eyes narrowing dangerously. “When I lied about the guy, they were so…happy. I couldn’t figure out what it was then, but now I think they were relieved to finally have me figured out. I wasn’t someone they could understand or relate to before. It’s funny.” I huff out a humorless laugh. “Well, maybe it’s more sad than funny that the first time we got along like family is supposed to it’s because of a lie.”

It’s been exhausting, keeping up the facade. Pretending to know what I’m doing when guys flirt with me. Brushing them off at the end of the night. Unintentionally getting them fired for serving one too many free drinks. Merely playing at playing hard to get. Coming out alone couldn’t erase the years ofcomphet. Changing my wardrobe little by little has helped, as well as being honest with myself about the type of romantic relationship I want and who I want it with. That’s not something I see my cousins ever understanding. And ever since Natalia brought it up, I can’t help but wonder if my followers will understand either.

“Briana and Esme think I’m lying to thousands of people on the internet.” I shake my head. “That’s what’s believable to them. That’s the version of me they prefer. The versioneveryoneprefers. At least then I’m someone they can understand. But now…”

I wish I knew then what I know now. I wish I grew up with the community I’ve built online. Maybe then I wouldn’t have thought it was so shameful to be as inexperienced as I am. I wouldn’t have felt the need to keep up this facade for a third of my life.

“You’re not the person you worked so hard to convince everyone you are.”

“Yeah.” I rest my head in my hands, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.” When she puts it like that, it’s no wonder Briana and Esme are so confused. They thought they knew who I was, but the truth is they never had a clue. No one did. Not even me, until last year. Is that what the source of this ache is, this hollow feeling inside my chest? Did I do this to myself?

Sixteen

I’m not trying to defend them in any way,” Krystal explains, raising her hands. “Your cousins don’t deserve the amount of grace you’ve given them throughout the years. It’s just that I understand trying to fill a role other people made for you.”

“I didn’t think you were,” I assure her. “There’s no excuse for the way they treated me when we were younger. But you’re right. I only came out to a handful of people before I made that video because I didn’t want the hassle of coming out over and over again. I wanted to skip to the end. Be the healthy, well-adjusted queer person the internet thinks I am. The truth isn’t nearly as pretty.”

“It never is.” Her smile is dry.

“What role were you trying to fill?” Her shoulders stiffen slightly before she lets out a sigh. “Is this about your ex?”

“Our moms were best friends,” she tells me. “I’m pretty sure they were more ecstatic than we were when we finally got together.”

“What happened?” I’m scared to even voice this simplequestion. I know what happened, even if it’s only the tight-lipped version she told me yesterday. Maybe now she feels comfortable enough to share the details.

“He was my best friend.” She circles her ring finger with a thumb and forefinger. Her movements are absent-minded, tracing over a remembered weight. “We grew up together. Saw each other at our best and worst, you know? I loved him, but I wasn’t in love with him. And I hate myself for it.”

“Did you think you were better off as friends?”

“When he asked me out our sophomore year of college, it felt like the natural thing to say yes,” she explains. “Our friends always suspected there was something between us, the same way our families did. There was something different about him that year. He was bolder, unafraid to go after what he wanted, and he’d decided he wanted me. I don’t know, it was an attractive quality. It made me want to give us a shot. See if everyone was right.”

“What happened then?” I ask, taking a sip from my beer, swallowing down a wince along with the bitter taste. She notices and grabs the bottle from my hand before turning into the kitchen.

“We went from friends to full-blown relationship,” she says as she turns her back on me, gathering ingredients from the fridge for my usual at the bar. “There was no easing into the transition. It made sense in some ways because of how familiar we already were with each other. I didn’t expect to skip to the end with him when I agreed to try dating, but I’d already fallen into it before I even knew what we were doing.”

“If you loved each other, I don’t see how that’s a bad thing,”I tell her. “Then again, there are different ways to love someone. Romance isn’t for everyone, despite what the world would like us to believe. Not everyone wants to fall in love, get married, and have kids.”

“I’ll cheers to that when I finish making your drink.”

“Have you ever thought you might be aromantic?” I ask as I return to my seat at the bar where our untouched plates are sitting and watch as she twists open a bottle of Malibu. I’m still hungry, so I eat as she makes my drink.

“I don’t think so, no,” she says. “I’ve experienced sexual and romantic attraction. And not always both at the same time for the same person. That wasn’t an issue with Isaac, though. I was attracted to him, but when it came to love—romantic love—he was years ahead of me and didn’t give me any time to catch up. Our relationship was great at first, don’t get me wrong. It was just… fast. As friends, we saw each other every day, spent the night at each other’s place most weekends. After our first date, we were practically living together. Within the span of a few months, we were bickering like an old married couple.”

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