Lighted Corners
Take Me Back Lilli Heineman You were sitting alone when I first met you. Our dads started talking; we sat in silence. The first words I said to you were that our dads would be good friends. They laughed and you smiled. Our dads got offered to coach the team and suddenly we were spending time together. We had to babysit the head coach’s kids. I dressed nice that day. Why did I dress nice? I was feeling good that day. Why was I feeling good? Was it because I was going to see you? No. Yes. We grew close. Wherever you went, I was right there behind you. In your shadow. I slept over and you showed me your uniform. I blushed. You smiled. I slept on the floor. I just didn’t want you to think I was weird. Just ask. No. You couldn’t know, no one could know. You were Catholic anyway; Catholics hate people like me. I would rather die than have you hate me. I would rather be your friend than have you hate me. Disgusting. You’re not. I am. You couldn’t know; no one could know. And no one knew. For three years,
12
no one would know a thing. I would be happy and alone, terrified that one day, people would know. Terrified that you would know. And for those three years I waited for some indication that you were like me. You had a homecoming date that you despised. You called me because he was a disaster. You read books with people like me in them. They were your favorite books. You sang songs about people like me. They were your favorite songs. One day we went out for my birthday, just the two of us. You joked that you were taking me on a date. I laughed, and you smiled. On the way home you asked if I had a boyfriend. And for the second time since we met, we sat in silence. Just say it. No. On the fourth year, something changed in me. Was I more confident? Did I just care less? Did I just want to finally admit it? Yes. But not to you. Soon that little secret became part of my identity. People in my life accepted me with open arms because they were just like me. And you, you said nothing. I was sure you hated me. I was too scared to say anything. One day, you came over to my house. I was excited. Why was I excited? Was it because I was going to see you? No.
