Chapter Five (Della Valora)

Della's Point of View

Chapter 5 - Della Valora

Vanessa called me to tell me she was coming home from the airport early- five o’clock early. She told me that she wanted to hang out, and I felt I wouldn’t have been able to do so normally with the weight of the night prior on my shoulders. I suddenly felt the need to tell her about me. 

I drove to her apartment at around four in the morning. There was no way I could talk about this with my parents in the house. I left them a little note on the counter telling them where I’d be. The entire car ride over, I blasted music much too loud for the dark, stillness of the early morning to keep myself awake and the panicked thoughts at bay. 

Her apartment was freezing in comparison to my heated car ride. I grabbed a blanket from her room to wrap myself in and turned on her heater. I curled up on her orange, velvet couch, turned on a random background movie, and dozed off.

I was startled awake by the sound of a  key opening the front door. Immediately, my stomach began to behave like it was trying to put out a fire on itself, like you’re taught in kindergarten. Stop, drop, and roll.

I sat up on the couch, standing quickly. “Vanessa? I need to talk to you.”

“Hey, Dot. Thanks for the warm welcome. What about?” she asked, confused, her voice breathy, probably from the cold outside. 

She called me Dot, a play on my shortness. 

Vanessa looked a lot like me. We had the same olive-y, Italian skin tone and almost black eyes. Her collar-bone length hair was naturally lighter than mine by a few shades, making it a soft reddish brown that she straightened every day and frequently got highlighted. Our fashion sense landed on opposite sides of the spectrum, her’s being overly feminine, most often exhibiting tight clothes, showing off a lot of skin. On the other hand, I dressed in baggy jeans, and while my tops were a variety of fitted and loose, the colors in my palette were much darker than Vanessa’s, and so was my makeup. She tended to sport a perfect, bare face, at the very most, adding some tinted chapstick to her full lips for a complete look. She always seemed so put together and grown up to me. 

I swallowed.

“Uh, can we sit down or something? It’s kind of important.”

She raised her eyebrows but thankfully stopped pressing, tugging on the large suitcase behind her, rolling it over the awkward step into her apartment. She maneuvered it tragically as it skidded, wheels confused and twisty, to the corner of the living room, making a lot of noise in the process. Still huffy, she shimmied out of the giant snow jacket she was wearing, smoothed over her hair, and turned back to me. I was glued in the same spot as before, heart racing. 

Silently, she gestured for me to follow her to her room. I obliged. My knees practically buckled when I got to her bed, and I sat on the edge, taking a deep breath inwards. Vanessa sat down on the other end of the bed, looking at me intently. I looked down at my hands that were totally shaking. She seemed to take in that this talk I was forcing upon her was more serious that she’d been expecting. 

“S**t, you alright?” she asked, an edge in her voice. 

I nodded, closing my eyes. “Yeah. I just need to tell you something.” 

“Okay. Well, shoot. You know you can tell me anything.”

“F**k,” I breathed, stressed. “F**k, f**k, f**k.” 

“Dells, calm down. Just tell me what you need to tell me; it’ll be okay.”

I exhaled sharply, uncomfortable, letting out a breathy, awkward laugh. 

“Okay, seriously, Della, I’m kinda gettin’ kinda worried here.” She tried to make light of her uneasiness. “I mean, did you kill someone? Uh, did you get into drugs? Are you-”

“I like girls,” I blurted. “I’m a lesbian.”

Vanessa’s face softened then, eyebrows pulling together. She smiled, and before she could even say a word, I stood abruptly. 

“Oh, God, oh, my God.” I started pacing back and forth, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants. 

I wouldn’t look at Vanessa; I could not muster up the courage to see her face. Even though I knew the thought was ridiculous, I couldn’t stop thinking about her telling my parents. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, essentially hugging myself, shaky, nervous breaths leaving my lips at inconsistent rates.  

“Woah, hey,” she said urgently, pulling my arm to make me sit again. “Della, breathe. It’s okay. You don’t have anything to worry about; I’m proud of you, and I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me.”

“Please, don’t tell anyone,” I said, my voice pleading and weak; I felt like an idiot. “I don’t want Mom and Dad to hate me.”

“God,” Vanessa sighed, pulling me into her arms. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. I’m so, so happy for you.”

I tried my best to calm myself down while she held me. Conscious of her arms tightly wound around me, I thought hazily of an article I’d read about how squeezing someone really tightly (like you would in a hug) is effective in calming someone down because it sends signals to their nerves that everything’s okay… or something like that. I focused on that memory to try to induce some sort of tranquility.

I felt her lean away, as my breath came easier, a smile tugging on her mouth. I looked up quizzically. 

“So… do you like someone?” she teased, her voice almost squeaking in excitement.

I groaned, covering my face with a pillow to hide the blush warming my cheeks.

“Oh, my god. My baby sister feels emotion? This is truly monumental. Well, who is the lucky girl that cracked your icy soul?” she asked, still using the girl-from-a-bad-sleepover-movie voice.

“Shut up, Vee,” I said, sitting up on my elbows. “Her name is Alex. She’s f*****g beautiful, okay? She has gorgeous, curly red hair and this adorable, crooked smile. She’s funny and sweet, and I get so, ugh, so nervous around her and- and my hands, like, sweat, and I stumble over my own words a lot, like a lot.”

“Adorable. Does she like you?”

My face dropped, heart plummeting to my shoes. I felt nauseated. “She has a boyfriend.” 

Her smile faded along with mine. “Oh. Do you know if she likes girls at all?” 

“I don’t know anything. When she talks to me, I feel like maybe? I don’t know, maybe there’s something there. And every time she touches me, it feels like electricity, which, I know, sounds so dramatic. I- I can’t even describe it, Vee. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I feel like some part of her might like me too.” I remembered the way she looked at me in the rain on my front porch. 

“Doesn’t hurt to take a shot,” Vanessa urged. “Just no home-wrecking, okay?”

“Gross, of course not.”

“Good.”

I felt relieved and heavy all at once. Vanessa knew now, and there was no way to go back. I sighed loudly, not wanting to cry in front of her again. 

“Mom and Dad are going to hate me if they find out,” I mumbled shakily, defeated, not making eye contact. “They hate gay people. And they’re going to think that- that there’s something wrong with me.”

Vanessa grabbed my hand and held it close to her, shaking her head. When she spoke, I could’ve sworn I heard tears lacing her own voice. “Della. You are not broken, and there is nothing wrong with you. Please, don’t ever think that, okay? You are perfectly normal, Dells. You are my sister, and I love you so much. It doesn’t even matter what mom and dad think about you; their views of gay people are skewed, and it’s not f*****g okay. Don’t mind what they say; hell, heaven knows I don’t. Your sexuality doesn’t make you you, Della; you don’t need to tell anyone if you don’t feel comfortable. Either way, I will always be here for you.”

I hugged her, fighting tears. I’d cried more in the past two days than I’d cried in the last six months. It was embarrassing. I hated showing emotion; it was much easier to be cynical and sarcastic instead. I couldn’t hold it back though; the dam broke. Vanessa stroked my hair, hushing my cries.

“It just sucks,” I said harshly, trying to stifle the teary voice.

“I know, Dells,” she rocked back and forth with me folded in her arms. “Hey, if you ever feel like you need to stay here, if you don’t feel safe here, or even if you just need a break from everything, please do not hesitate to come over.”

I nodded, wiping at my tears, the calm from her hug washing over me again. “Thank you.”

I got up quickly, feeling embarrassed. I went to the cupboard in the kitchen and grabbed the half empty jar of Nutella from behind the soup cans, in front of the bagels. I unscrewed the lid and grabbed a spoon from her resident drawer of utensils. 

Vanessa appeared in the living room, watching me as she stood next to the coffee table. 

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked me, eyeing the jar with amusement in her eyes.

“Drowning my sorrows. In chocolate.” 

I took a spoonful of Nutella- a big spoonful- and ate it that way, from the spoon. I did this sometimes, when I felt sad. I’d have just enough Nutella on a spoon to make it look like no one had ever touched it because it wasn’t a noticeable difference. I don’t actually know if anyone would’ve cared, but still, you never want to be confronted about the missing Nutella. I don’t necessarily know why you don’t, but you just don’t. This spoonful was already noticeable enough. 

“Della, don’t do it!” Vanessa cried in a dramatic, cinema-girl-in-the-thirties voice, draping her arm over her head. “You have too much to live for!” 

I furrowed my brows at her and took another spoonful, shoveling it into my mouth. “Shut the f**k up,” I said through the thick, hazelnutty chocolate. 

She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Dear Lord, aren’t you gonna barf?”

I shook my head and took another spoonful, deciding it was my last one, screwing on the lid, and putting it away, making sure the spoon was evidence free before dropping it in the sink. “I don’t know why I do that; it never helps as much as I want it to.”

I went over to the couch and slumped down in it, crumpling into the brown cushions, eyebrows furrowed with frustration. Vanessa sat down next to me. 

“So,” Vanessa started, sounding like she was carefully trying to phrase a question in her head. “You haven’t told Wesley?”

I shook my head rapidly. 

“Wow. Serious s**t; you never keep anything from him.”

“I know.”

“How long has this been gnawing at you, kiddo? When did you figure it out?”

“That I liked girls? Sixth grade. I just couldn’t accept it. I dated a girl freshman year. Her name was Valerie. She got shipped away to some gay conversion boarding school for impure dykes. Not exactly a great start to my dating career. I know mom and dad won’t be okay with it. Like probably kick-me-out-and-disown-me not okay with it.  And I’m not ready for that quite yet.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. You dated a girl? You dated someone, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I was-”

My phone rang, and I jumped, startled. Wes was calling. I looked at Vanessa. 

“You can answer it,” she nodded.

I did. “Hey, Wes,” I croaked. I’d forgotten that I’d just been crying; my eyes flew open wide and I clamped my hand over my mouth, looking at Vanessa desperately. 

“Woah, you okay?” Wes asked.

 I closed my eyes and sunk deeper into the worn couch. “Yeah, I’m all good,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice any reason to not believe me. “You just woke me up; it’s damn early if you didn’t notice.”

“I thought you were going to Vee’s place this morning though?” he asked with skepticism in his voice. He always knew what I was doing. I told him everything, except for the most important thing. 

“Yeah, I just crashed here for a little while after she got in.” Not entirely a lie. 

“Uh, okay, well, I wanna go to the beach later. Are you in?”

“S**t; sure, I guess. It’s kinda gloomy outside,” I said, glancing out Vanessa’s open window. 

“Yeah, I know, but it’s okay, right? I was thinking about inviting everyone.”

“Ah, so it went really well with Jade the other night?” I realized, trying to pin the attention on him instead of myself. 

He hesitated, stuttering a little bit before speaking. “Yeah, it did. My texts didn’t convey that fully?”

“Guess not, but I’m happy for you.” I felt bold for a moment, wanting to share my experience with Alex. “You know, that night I- well, nevermind-” I almost said too much before thinking better of myself and moving on. 

“Hey, you sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s nothing. I’ll tell you later.” I hoped he would forget that I said that. 

Don’t dump your burden on him now. You’re not ready for that, and you don’t know if he’s ready either.

“I’ll see you there,” I said after a moment of silence on his end.

“Sounds good… wait, what time?”

“I was thinking like four-ish. How does that sound? I know it’ll be freezing, but the beach is always fun regardless.”

“Debatable,” I retorted.

Wesley knew my distaste for the beach, but it was cold weather that warmed my heart, and he knew I would put up with his plans solely for it. 

“Don’t forget a jacket today; Jade’s getting mine if she’s cold.”

“I’ll try.” I hung up, shaking my head. I always forgot to bring jackets whenever I went out, even though I got cold easily. Wesley was always there to save the day, never getting cold himself, always being prepared. I never had to learn my lesson. 

Vanessa raised her eyebrows at me, and I threw myself back down on the bed. 

“Everything’s all screwed up, Vee.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything. I can’t even tell Wesley who I like! That’s, like the simplest, most important friendship detail to share.”

“Is it now?” Vanessa asked, smiling.

I almost continued the banter, but instead, I sighed loudly. 

“You really believe he’d think any differently of you?”

I shrugged.

“Dot, I know this kid. He just doesn’t seem like the type to care about someone being gay, especially his best friend.”

“I don’t wanna chance it,” I mumbled. “I can’t lose him. I love him. Plus, he’s, like, all I have.”

Vanessa scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Well, then.”

“Ugh, you know what I mean.”

She didn’t tease back. “I really think you should consider telling Wes, Dells. You don’t need to be carrying the weight of all of that on your own. Best friends are supposed to be there for this kind of stuff.”

I couldn’t make eye contact, feeling uncomfortable. “Yeah, I know.”

“Hey.” She hugged me to her chest again, one hand rubbing giant, comforting circles on my back, the other cradling the back of my head. “Big sisters are also there for this kind of stuff too,” she whispered.