Chapter Three (Alex Carr)

Alex's Point of View

Chapter 3

I was 12 years old when Christmas stopped feeling like Christmas. It was something I hadn’t anticipated, and something I didn’t really understand. Christmas was- always had been- great. My family was always so enthusiastic about the holiday, and if I ever wasn’t in the spirit, they didn’t leave much room for me to stay that way. 

Around sixth grade, I felt drained- like the “Christmas spirit,” if you will, had been sucked out of my mind, my body. Depression, I think. That’s probably what it was. I don’t know for sure. Not important to this specific point. 

Why was I (possibly) depressed?

I tried for years to figure out what the blockage was that prevented myself from feeling happiness. Eventually, I figured that out: I liked girls in a romantic way. 

I know it sounds like a stretch relating it to Christmas. But the realization was like waking up on Christmas morning. But, like, with depression. Because it’s all bright and new, but you still feel dulled and wrong and weird that you’re not so happy about it. 

It was such a simple and yet earth-shattering realization that I fought and argued with constantly. It was a nonstop battle, telling myself that I was straight, and that it was the only way things could be. 

It wasn’t like my parents were homophobic or anything. My parents would’ve been supportive no matter when I told them. I knew that much. Of course they would’ve been. They’d throw a pride parade themselves to show their daughter support if they had to. I knew they would still love me, but I started dating James to prove something to myself, and my family loved him so much. I didn’t want to feel like a fraud for dating him only to come out as a lesbian later on. 

When I was with James, I felt like his friend. When he kissed me, I felt kind of empty. His face scratched against mine in an unpleasant way, and his tongue was overpowering. Kissing wasn’t so bad though. Sometimes, I pretended he was someone else; someone with b***s. And it was okay for a little while, you know? But when his body was pressed against mine, it didn’t feel the way I wanted it to feel. We didn’t fit like a puzzle. And I knew, being that close to him, he was a heck of a lot more excited about me than I was about him. 

And I hated thinking that it was so one-sided between us, but I just felt stuck; I didn’t love him. I knew I was using him, and I was doing it for all the wrong reasons. He was really a sweet guy, and he deserved more. It took me a while to realize I didn’t even really like him all that much. 

He was supposed to be a big, handsome, athletic kid that I was supposed to fall in love with. But when he asked me out a month after I moved here, I almost felt more obligated to say yes purely because if every girl was supposed to be in love with him, that meant I was supposed to be too. I had a lot of fear surrounding being gay, and I didn’t know why. It was like a defense mechanism, pretending I was straight; I was a possum, playing dead in the streets to avoid getting killed. 

Between my mother working across the country giving speeches for her own skincare line, and my dad working out of the new New York office for his company, I didn’t see them all that much. Mostly, I saw my dad; he came home on weekends to be with me, my older sister, Brynn, and my older brother, Cameron; they were both in college. We’d moved to Seattle when my dad was transferred to a new Seattle location for his job. He still had to be in New York most of the time, though, to oversee operations. Still, both of my parents were great; they were amazingly understanding and open-minded people. I was scared to come out solely because of myself. 

I was such a stereotypical-looking girl that I never expected anyone to believe me. I was scared of people thinking I was just going through my lesbian phase. 

I wasn’t; I didn’t want to kiss girls for the guy-attention it brought. I didn’t want to get drunk and mess around with a girl because it was a fun thing to do, having to drink until I couldn’t feel my legs before I could find a girl attractive enough to kiss. 

I wanted to kiss a girl, fall in love with a girl, marry a girl. 

The way I felt around Della terrified me. This feeling started one day when she came into Loni’s wearing a striped, long sleeve turtleneck and a red vest, identifying her as an employee at A-B Cinema’s. Her name tag read “Della V,” and when I’d seen her on the first day of school, I pretended not to know her name. 

She was pretty and noticeably insecure. She had a deep voice for a girl. She wore thick eyeliner and bold, dark red lipstick everyday. I could never help but look at her full, dark lips when she spoke, though that’s not to say that her giant, almost-black eyes weren’t just as hypnotic. She came into Loni’s every single day that she worked and ordered a cappuccino. She sat at the same table in the back corner every time, and the only difference in her ritual would be a new book in her hand. I felt compelled by her presence, and I had a sense she felt the same way about me. 

I’d felt protective of her when Charlie tried to kiss her and made her uncomfortable. And when I saw her crying outside of her Uber, I’d made James stop the car, so I could go help, even though I didn’t even know if she wanted me there. 

So I was not stupid. I knew I had it pretty bad for her, but I just didn’t want to like her like that. Every time I was near her, I felt like I couldn’t help but stare. 

I wasn’t sure she was gay until I saw her reactions to Charlie’s not-so-slick moves. After that, I had a pretty fair idea. Either way, my long-winded metaphor just ends up coming down to the beautiful girl in the backseat of James’ car, stifling sniffles, eyes averted to her own hands in her lap. 

I felt like my nerves were up in flames, gnawing at me to climb into the backseat and cradle her against my chest. I wondered what exactly had upset her to the point of tears; I doubted it was only that dick of an Uber driver. But whatever that breaking point was, I knew I wanted to stop the pain that she felt. 

Eventually, we pulled up in front of her house. She mumbled a thank you and another apology to us and jumped out of the car. 

“I’m gonna walk her to the door,” I said, resting my hand on James’ arm.

“She can’t do it herself?” 

“Just let me walk her,” I snapped.

He nodded, surrendering, and I hopped out, jogging to catch up with Della.

“Uh, hi,” she stammered, not quiet looking at me. 

“Hey. Is it okay if I walk you to your door?”

She nodded, her wide, doe eyes threatening tears. “Sure.” She clenched her jaw and tilted her head upwards slightly, trying to keep tears inside.

We walked in silence, and upon arriving at her doorstep, she stopped and spun around to face me.

“Thank you.”

I tilted my head, “For what?”

“For standing up for me. Twice. And I mean, driving me home, too.”

“Of course,” I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t thank me.”

She disregarded my statement, seemingly becoming uncomfortable. “And could you tell James thank you from me too?”

I nodded, swallowing. I felt guilty for the first time that night as though I were emotionally cheating on my boyfriend. The icy wind blew against us, and we both shivered, our wet clothing clinging to our skin. I could feel that we were both uncomfortably cold, but we stood still, staring at each other for a moment.

I blinked, looking down. “Well, if- if, uh, you feel like talking, you can text or call anytime,” I added, knowing I shouldn’t have.

I spun around, face hot as I walked back to my unsuspecting boyfriend, sitting in the car. I listened for the closing of Della’s front door, overly concerned for her safety. I reluctantly opened the passenger side door again, sat down, and buckled up. 

“Takin’ you home?” James asked.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding, keeping my eyes away from his. 

He was trying to extend an offer for me to stay the night at his house without being pushy. I’d become quite familiar with these subtle invitations over the past few months; we hadn’t had sex yet, and we’d been dating half a year. I could sense his discomfort in this, and I constantly felt guilty for hiding my true emotions from him. 

I knew that I had no desire to have sex with James, and it wasn’t because there was anything wrong with him, per say. Just that his biology wasn’t to my liking. I’d thought often about forcing myself to go through with it just to please him, but I decided that wasn’t an experience I wanted to live with for the rest of my life, knowing I’d eventually need to come out and break up with James. 

Jade was really falling for Wesley, so we saw him a lot more often. This was almost always a guarantee for Della to tag along, which was both good and bad for me. I’d originally thought she was dating Wesley, so I didn’t feel so guilty about how much I liked looking at her when she was around me. Once I found out they weren’t dating, I speculated about her sexuality. Being around Della so often, I’d come to love her somewhat negative, cynical personality and not only her beautiful, thick hair and perfect, doll-like face. It just scared me that I didn’t always view her in a friendly way- unless most people think about making out with their friends mid-conversation. It truly scared me to be around her, but I always tried to keep myself composed, so she wouldn’t become suspicious. 

I was ripped from my thoughts when James let his hand rest on my leg. It wasn’t that it felt bad; his touch just made me feel anxious and dirty, especially when I was fantasizing about Della. I was lying to myself, and to him, and to the world, and I was letting it carry on. I was consciously pretending to like him and the things he did to me.

When he kissed me, I kissed back, hoping to feel something. When he kissed my neck, I tried to make it sound like I enjoyed the feel of his slobber and the scratching of his scruff on my face. But no matter what, I always ended up feeling messy and empty. 

He rubbed his thumb in small circles on my leg, and all I could think of was that it felt comparable to a spider, ambling around itself over and over. I had a sudden urge to flick the spider off and scream at the top of my lungs. Of course, I couldn’t do that. And knowing I couldn’t made me feel trapped. I wondered briefly if I was experiencing the same frustration Della was feeling- a fiery pit of helplessness and no one to vent about it too.

The car stopped in front of my house and I jerked forward, startled from the unexpected halt, seatbelt tugging me backwards. 

James snorted. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I assured him, slightly dazed. 

“Are you sure? I could come inside and hang with you. You seem a little off. Do you feel like some company? Or a distraction?”

The emphasis he added to the word distraction made me want to vomit. I shook my head, “It’s okay, um, my brother and sister are home. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?”

F**k, why did I say that? I don’t wanna see him tomorrow.

“Sounds good, babe. See you,” he winked as I shut the door of the car to turn away. 

He sped off, and I shuddered. “F**k,” I whispered to myself, taking a deep breath before opening the door to my house. 

Upon stepping inside, I flung my purse to the chair that sat by the front door. 

“I’m home, fuckers!” I yelled into the general area of the living room. 

“Hey!” my brother, Cameron, yelled. “Did that James kid just drop you off?”

“Yeah,” I said, going in to hug him.

“Still dating that douchebag, huh? He stick it in you yet?”

“Ew!” I yelled, pushing him off of me. “What the f**k kinda question is that?”

“So he has?” he teased.

“F**k no! Don’t be disgusting, Cam!” I yelled, meaning it, but still joking.

“Jesus Christ. Stop being such a pervert, dickwad,” Brynn remarked, walking into the room.

Cameron laughed loudly. “Good to be home.”

Cameron had been away at college in California, and we hadn’t seen him since summer. I hugged him again. 

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re back.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s not get all f****n’ serious and s**t. I know you’re all pumped to have me back, but the Carr’s don’t cry over lame bullshit like this.”

“Way to ruin the moment, asshat. Anyway, sorry I’m home so late.”

“Well, it’s okay. You were getting fucked, so I forgive you,” Cameron continued.

“F**k you! I was not!” I elbowed his stomach.

He coughed, chuckling to himself. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he squeezed me tight and asked me if I wanted to watch a scary movie in the living room with them. Scary movies were Cameron’s favorite, and whenever he came home, we watched them nonstop.

“Alright, little sis, what’re we watching tonight? We watched The Shining last time I was home. Can we watch something current tonight?” he asked, kneeling next to the TV to grab the remote. 

“Sure. IT sound okay to you guys?”

“F**k, yeah!” Brynn chimed in, grabbing blankets from a cabinet near the couch. 

I sat down between them, feeling like a child again being protected by my older siblings. They both had rooms at home, and they were both in college. Brynn was a junior at the local University of Washington, so she commuted to school daily. Cameron chose to move all the way out to California to go to college, but all of his stuff remained in his room for when he came back on holidays. We had lived in California before though, so it was not all that surprising. It was weird and quiet in the house without him, and this was my first year of high school without him. 

I think they mostly maintained partial-living at home for me; they both could afford their own places, but with our parents gone most of the time, I don’t think they felt comfortable leaving me alone, more out of guilt than worry of my being home alone.

Brynn was my best friend through all of the moving for my mom’s job. I had a really hard time making friends until I came here and started dating James. Still, that wasn’t ideal. I told her everything, except for when I was constantly thinking about the fact that I might be gay. She treated me as an equal, rather than a pitiful younger sister.

On the other hand, Cameron was my protector. He outwardly played the part of a teasing older brother, but truly, he worried about me and cared about me more than most people did. He asked about school and friends constantly, and he sat me down to ask about James when I first started dating him. Cameron didn’t take a liking to him, but he would never step over the line to tell me his thoughts unless he believed I was in harm’s way. If anyone tried to hurt me, I knew he wouldn’t let them get away without a scratch. A little worrisome but reassuring at the same time. 

I felt myself starting to doze off on Cameron’s shoulder. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he said. “Checkin’ out already?” 

“I missed you,” I mumbled.

“Missed you too, Alex,” he whispered. “Long night?”

“Mhmm,” was all I could manage before I was completely gone.

---

I felt myself being lifted off the couch at some point during the night. Though a tired haze, I guessed that Cameron was taking me to my room. He walked up the stairs quietly, my limp head bouncing slightly on his chest with every step.

He lowered me down to my bed and covered me with a blanket.

“Thank you,” I grumbled, my voice groggy as he flipped off the light switch.

“Sorry to wake you. By the way, your phone’s been blowing up. I think Jade’s trying to reach you.”

“Oh, thanks. Goodnight.”

“Night, kiddo.” Cameron closed the door. 

I took a deep sigh and sat up. I fumbled for my phone that Cameron had set on my bedside table. It was 2:00 in the morning, and Jade had called me seven times. The last call was from ten minutes prior. I tapped her name and listened to the line ring.

“Oh, my god,” her voice shot through the phone excited, shaky, and clear.

“Well, good morning to you,” I groaned. “Sorry, I was asleep. What’s up? Well, I mean, you are; why are you up?”

“I was with Wesley! Oh, my God, Alex. Wow.”

“Okay, woah. That’s good, right? What happened?” I asked, suddenly intrigued by Jade’s upbeatness. 

“Okay, okay. So we left the movie together, right?”

And left Della there with that a*****e of an Uber driver. “Right.”

“And he took me to the park, and it was so cute and sweet and we talked for so long. He’s so funny and, ugh, he’s so nice. And he makes me feel, like, not so shy, you know? Like I found out I’m pretty comfortable talking to him. And I think he was trying to be respectful all night, so he didn’t, like, try to make any moves, but while we were talking at the park on a bench, he freaking leaned over, put his hand on my neck, or, like, neck to shoulder area, you know? And I don’t kiss and tell, but he f****n’ kissed me, Alex! He kissed me! And then he took me for ice cream and we talked some more. And he was such a gentleman; he took me home and kissed me again in his car before walking me to my door.”

“Wow, Jade. That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you guys,” I said, a real smile growing on my face, despite the lack of happiness in my own love life. 

She screamed in excitement; it sounded at a distance, and I assumed she’d brought the phone away from her face.

“Okay, if I talk about this anymore, I’ll explode. Tell me about you and James,” she offered.

“Uh, alright. Well, he dropped another beg for sex.”

“Ew, he did?”

“Yeah, and I told him I’d maybe see him tomorrow. Or, I guess that’s today now, huh? But I don’t know if I wanna go through with it.”

“So do you have any sort of game plan?” she wondered. 

“Well, if he comes over, I could blow him off again. Or I could just do it. Ugh, why am I so stressed about f*****g my boyfriend, Jade? Aren’t teenagers supposed to be dying to have sex? Especially if they’ve been dating a guy for six months? A guy everyone drools over, at that.”

Jade didn’t like James all that much either, despite the fact that he was the reason we met each other. It was at the first party I went to after moving down here. James had gotten too drunk, and after a while of chasing him around, I lost him. I’d sat down on a couch to later be joined by a girl with sharp yet angelic features, her black hair spilling down her back. She’d introduced herself as Jade Wu, and she asked me if I was okay. We talked the whole night, and she drove me home, since my “date” hadn’t gone as planned. Ranting about him the whole night with her, I didn’t think I would ever speak to him again, but he ended up being my boyfriend, which Jade was never thrilled with. 

“I don’t think it’s weird. I think it wouldn’t be bad to do it; he knows you, Alex. I don’t think he would do anything to make you uncomfortable on purpose. Don’t, like, do it if you don’t want to though, okay? Don’t let him pressure you, please.”

“Okay. I think I’ll sleep on it, and see how I feel tomorrow, I guess.”

“That sounds good.”

“Alright. Goodnight, Jade.”

“Night, Alex. Keep me posted tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

I hung up, pulled on some sweats, got in bed. I stared at the ceiling, my mind numb, completely blank, except for a little voice of worry in the back of my mind, yelling into a hazy tiredness, “If you do it, you’ll regret it,” over and over and over.