Hi; my name's Charlotte Marie Sunshine and I'm not normal. I never have
been, and I probably never will be: Maybe that's all because I'm so shy? Or just
a little bit 'quirky' and... well... let's say different... Or maybe it's the simple fact
that I'm a closeted gay.
To be honest, I basically lived in my own little closet of secrets – like there was
a whole other person living behind my reflection in the mirror.
I kinda liked it though. But then again, wouldn't anyone?
The feeling of being hidden away from the world like secret treasure...
That is, until I met her.
The most beautiful, colourful, amazing girl I've ever laid eyes on.
A girl who could turn your whole world upside down and make you realize you
couldn't imagine anything else holding the universe together apart from the
brief moment her hand brushed against yours.
A girl who managed to change so much through the littlest things.
And her name was Holly Parker.
…
"Mind if I sit?" Her voice cooed, snapping me from my dizzied trance.
Half blinded by the bright July sun, I blinked up at her – speechless.
As she took a seat on the park bench beside me.
Diverting eye contact, I ran my fingers gently across the chipped, green bench
and stared across to the smaller kids chasing each other around in circles as
they played – spindly legs scrapping against the long meadow plants; hair
flopping over their round eyes.
She sighed, half-heartedly. "How are you enjoying high school?"
Swallowing back my nerves, I smiled at her, whispering; "Good... I'm glad to
have my exams out of the way at least."
"Right." She laughed, comfortingly. "I'm sure you did great – don't bother stressing it."
Blushing a deep scarlet, I turned the silver ring in circles around my index
finger, watching the small emerald sparkle against the July sun – it was my
birthstone, given to me for my 15th birthday.
"I'm in year 11 now so I'm completely done with school now." She began,
filling the silence. "I have no idea what I want to do now though... Maybe I'll
just start a course in psychology or something so I can work in a special needs
school."
I bit my lip, smiling awkwardly. "I think you might be really great at that."
"Thanks." She hesitated, drawing in a deep breath as the quiet re-surrounded
us.
"Are you out yet?" She blurted, abruptly, as she turned to completely face me,
hands folded together on her lap.
I gawped at her – stunned.
"What?!"
She frowned, tilting her head to the side. "The closet."
I held her gaze, heart hammering. "I don't know what you –"
"It's obvious, Charlotte." She rolled her eyes, beaming. "Maybe not to
everyone, but I can tell."
Gawping at her, I searched desperately for something to say – anything.
"It's not like I'm gonna tell anyone." She added, briefly placing a hand on my
arm in reassurance. "I wouldn't do that to you... I hated when people
threatened to out me as bi."
Breathing deeply, I replayed the second of touch in my head – how her hand
brushed so gently and how I couldn't shake the memory of it from my leg.
"Could I ask one question though?" She prodded, curiously – waiting for me to
meet her eyes. "Who's the girl?"
Swallowing hard, I held her gaze, chewing awkwardly on my nail. Her face was
smooth and round, even without makeup, and even in a baggy, green jumper
and jeans, her figure was breath-taking.
If only I could find a better answer.
Oh God..." She murmured quietly, pushing her hands roughly through her
thick, mahogany hair – in itself, enough to make my stomach lurch with
butterflies.
I blinked at her, fearfully. "Are you mad?"
"No!" She snapped back to me – stunned. "Why would you think that?"
I shrugged; head lowered as I rubbed my shoes against the soft grass. "I just
wanted to make sure."
Sighing, she fumbled through her pockets, pulling out a piece of paper and
pressing it into the palm of my hand. "Here's my number – give me a time and
a place... I'll be there."
And with that, she jumped from the bench – trying not to look back as she
hurried away, calling her younger brother over to leave.
Breathless, I held my hands to my heart, feeling it's strong pulsing through my
fingertips; mind buzzing with the same, echoing question.
Can you believe it?