That Surprise Visit Make Me Happy Part -4 Continues…

“That Surprise Visit Make Me Happy” Part-4 Continues…..

“It wasn’t just Elizabeth’s fault though, you know? I didn’t exactly play hard to get.”

“Maybe not. But she was your teacher, and she should have known better. And they should never have made you out to be…”

She stopped.

“…Jezebel, the town dyke.” I finished it for her.

“Yeah.” She looked angry. “It’s not right. And it’s not like you’re the only gay person in this town.”

I looked up, startled. She was quick to continue.

“I mean, there’s bound to be others, even if they don’t show it in public.”

She picked up her cup.

“And why would they, when they see how you’ve been treated?”

She took a sip of hot coffee. I was still staring at her, wondering. She was looking out the window, thoughtful, but then she snapped out of whatever she was thinking.

“Hey, how about I get us that pie?”

She stood and went to the counter to get the pie and the plates I had put out.

I just sat there, not believing this, wiping my tears away.

She was on my side. She knew, and she was still on my side.

And she was not just talking about a hypothetical someone, I was sure of that. She knew about someone, a still closeted someone.

I thought about Jenny. She was right.

And then I thought… could she know about Jenny? Or was it someone she knew from the church community? Or… did she maybe mean…?

I shook my head and accepted the plate she handed to me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn on the wet works. Let’s just say your open-minded views aren’t exactly mainstream around here.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s one thing we can maybe work together on changing. I heard that you’re starting a Queer-Straight Alliance at the school?”

“You heard already? I just put the ad up yesterday!”

“Word travels fast in this town.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” I muttered under my breath.

I raised my cup of coffee.

“Well then, here’s to open minds and opening closets.”

Her smile was somehow bittersweet.

“To open closets.”

Later, over the pie, she asked me if I wanted to tell her what really happened with Elizabeth. Before I knew it the whole story had come tumbling out of my mouth. How she had offered to tutor me and then given subtle hints that she was interested. How I had been very interested and open to her advances. And how, when she kissed me and took me to her bed, I was happy and excited. I am so very happy.

I told her how we only met four times before Rose found us, and then what came after. And how I ran away to University of New Mexico when I got lucky in the admissions lottery, and we could afford the tuition.

How I had only come back because my Dad got sick, to spend what time he had left close to him.

She was a wonderful listener.

When she left just before dinner, she gave me another warm hug and thanked me for everything. She made me promise to meet her again during the week and wished me luck with the QSA, saying she was happy to help any way she could.

And as she said goodbye, there was another moment where I thought she might lean in to kiss me.

It’s funny how the mind just makes up things it wants sometimes.

When I fell asleep that night, I was both happy and afraid.

I made a new friend. A real one.

And I was hopelessly in love with her.

—

The final bell rang.

The library doors were open. An ad hung beside the door. A new one.

The ones I had put up had been vandalized with slurs.

I had even bought a few handheld pride flags online, that now sat in a vase on the librarian’s desk.

I had found what books there were in the school library that were relevant to human rights and LGBTQ+ issues and negotiated for them to be put on a separate rainbow-flag marked shelf at the front.

The chairs were lined up, the projector ready with a few basic information slides.

I sat and watched the open doorway, heart pounding.

Maybe no one would come. Then I would do this again next Wednesday, and the next, until someone came. My old stubbornness had sunk its claws in this project.

Kids were milling about in the hallway, on their way home, talking to friends. No one seemed to be coming in here.

Until two sophomores suddenly appeared in the doorway, hesitantly stepping inside.

“Hi, welcome. So good to see you guys. Have a seat.”

The two girls sat down, and I asked them their names. Gina and Alison, and they were adamant that they were just here to see what the club was about, they weren’t gay or anything like that.

I said that was completely okay, this was an alliance open to everyone, and that membership of the club didn’t say anything about one’s orientation. That we were here to promote knowledge and equality.

They seemed happy with that.

Next, three senior guys came in. I nearly grimaced, thinking they were here to cause problems, but they sat down and showed genuine interest. But not before they had explained that they weren’t gay, just here to learn.

I welcomed them and was about to start handing out a small leaflet I had made when Jenny came in with another girl.

I smiled at them and offered them a seat. They sat at the back. Jenny’s friend was Susan, and I was pretty sure she was the same girl I had seen Jenny watching at the church bake sale.

There didn’t seem to be any more students coming so I opened my slides and went through them, answering hesitant questions and trying to get a discussion going. Asking if they knew anyone who was gay or otherwise queer, a family member perhaps, or if they followed some artists that were open about their LGBTQ+ identity. That last one finally got the conversation going, everyone knew some out and proud musicians. But no one said they knew any queer people personally.

I pointed out that I was a lesbian, and that they knew me, so now they did know at least one queer person. That got a little laugh.

They left with less tension than when they came, and I told them that next time we could discuss some ideas for club activities and projects.

Jenny’s eyes met mine as they left, and her smile was wide and genuine.

That smile made all this worth it.

I was feeling very pleased with myself when I went to visit Dad that evening.

He told me that he was proud of me.

—

Over the next month or so I met up with Maggie regularly. I even relaxed a little and went to her house when it became hard to explain why I always wanted to meet at my place.

And people noticed.

I knew they would. But Maggie didn’t seem to be bothered.

She was different when we were alone from when I met her on the street, like she was playing the part of the Pastor’s wife whenever she was around other people. With me, she was fun, animated and quick-witted. Out among her husband’s flock, she was a lot more reserved.

I loved our time together.

That wasn’t strange, I was head over heels in love with her.

I thought about her when I woke up and I masturbated to my dreams of her before I fell asleep. I was smitten by her beauty and in awe of her beautiful personality. So kind and compassionate, always ready to help people, giving, cheerful and with a wicked sense of humor that came out when we were alone.

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