Stars on Cuffed Jeans

"Can you keep a secret?" Isabel shouted into the wind atop Bear Mountain. "I'm gay."

That was the first and only time that Isabel had ever truly admitted her sexuality to anyone. Sure, maybe it was just to the occasional bird or bear, but it was a start, at least compared to whispering it to herself in the precious confines of her bedroom. As if she’d ever forget the fact. The memory of that day was permanently etched into the forefront of her mind— she could remember every little detail, down to the stars she’d drawn on the cuffs of her jeans that morning in Algebra class. Isabel closed her eyes, inhaling the crisp autumn air, as she began to hike back down to the base of the mountain, where her mother was waiting for her. 

It had been warm, a light breeze occasionally flowing in the open window of the classroom, with the faintest scent of weed from the apartment building next door. The school had invited the annual speaker on gender and sexuality, and Isabel scribbled stars on her jeans as the class awaited the speaker’s arrival, who was fifteen minutes late. The door flung open, and a breathless high schooler ran into the room. She was tall and thin, with long blonde hair the color of a field of glorious wheat braided on the left side of her head. She was wearing a flowy dress covered in tiny blue flowers that swung as she ran in. Guess Willow’s late too, Isabel thought. At least she’s not as late as the speaker. It was then that the girl skidded to a stop in the front of the class and said, “Hi, guys. So sorry I’m late!” The class exchanged glances of confusion as the girl explained, “I’m Willow, and I’m so excited to speak with you all today! I’m a senior this year, and I’ve had to sit through a lot of boring talks myself, so I’ll try to make this fun.” She smiled at Isabel, and Isabel felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Willow moved on. “So, let’s go around the room and share pronouns, and maybe your sexuality if you’re comfortable.” She motioned for the class to rearrange their desks in a semicircle. 

A boy in the corner raised his hand. “I can go first,” he said sheepishly. Willow smiled, and he began: “um, I’m Hunter— he/him/his— that’s how you say it, right?” and Willow nodded, gesturing for him to continue. “And I’m straight.” As the procession around the room continued, Isabel felt her chest tightening, as it always did before she had to speak in front of others. She ran through her lines repeatedly in her head, drilling them in so if her brain were to cease to function, her voice would still say the correct words. I’m Isabel, she/her/hers, and— Isabel was cut off by Willow’s voice: “..she/her/hers, and I’m gay.” Gay. She’s gay. I wish I could say that out loud. To her, especially. Gay. Isabel thought dreamily. Saying the word seemed heavenly to her for some odd reason, and she couldn’t picture why. Only when she looked up, her trace was over, and the entire class, including Willow, were staring at her. Julia, on her left, was even gaping. Isabel felt a flush of panic when she realized that she had said her thoughts out loud— perhaps her worst nightmare, since it both implied her own sexuality (that she’d anxiously kept a secret), and she’d embarrassed herself in front of Willow, the only girl Isabel had ever known in person and truly seen as more than a friend, perhaps. She mumbled something along the lines of “I’m so sorry I need to go” and left the room, fleeing to any place she could think of. Her legs felt numb. 

Isabel found herself in the gender-neutral bathroom, crouched under the automatic hand dryers. The school had chosen not to invest in high quality Dyson dryers that the students had petitioned for, so they kept going off ever so often, blowing Isabel’s dark hair into a sea of waves around her face. Except this wasn’t a beautiful day on some tropical island, and Isabel was miserable. After carefully protecting herself, staying under the radar, and picking just the right words to say or question to ask at mandatory assemblies, she’d gone and exposed herself in one blow. To make matters worse, she also blew it with Willow, who was so breathtakingly beautiful that Isabel wanted to scream. 

Willow was Isabel’s first crush, first love, first everything. Isabel hadn’t even realized that she was gay until she met Willow, who, despite not knowing anything about Isabel besides the fact that Isabel was a sophomore while she was a senior, made Isabel feel welcome in any room. Isabel had memorized the shape of Willow’s perfect smile, her endless amounts of kindness, and the way she laughed— a little tinkling thing that seemed to be like magic. The tiny pin that Willow gave Isabel at freshman-junior orientation lay in the prime spot on her bedside table. 

Isabel didn’t want to ever move. More than anything, she wanted, she wished, she hoped that the school would find some other piece of gossip and move on. Forget, please. She thought, broadcasting her thoughts into the universe as if it would change anything. I blew it with Willow, but don’t make this my reputation for the rest of my life. 

The bathroom door bumped open, ever so gently, and Isabel looked up— no one ever came in the gender-neutral bathroom (except to smoke, occasionally), even though it was nicer and cleaner, since they were all idiots who didn’t want to be labeled as non-binary. As if that’s an insult, Isabel thought to herself, amused. 

“So you’re okay, then?” Willow hesitated before stepping into the bathroom. “You know, the way I came out was much, much worse than that, if it makes you feel any better, and I’m still alive.” She laughed slightly, and sat down beside Isabel, leaning her head against the cold tiles. “But it doesn’t matter, anyway. How are you?” she asked, smoothing down the frizzy waves of Isabel’s hair that stuck up from the dryer. 

“Fine, I guess. Sorry that I ruined your talk.” Isabel said. She didn’t trust herself to say anything else, and she didn’t want to mention the incident in the faintest hopes that Willow had forgotten. 

“The school will forget about it in less than an hour. I heard that Ms. Philips went on a rampage and gave the entire soccer team detention— they can’t play their game on Friday against Hunter and that’s bound to be what everyone will be discussing, not what happened.” Isabel turned to face Willow, and Willow gently wiped a tear from the side of Isabel’s face. Isabel held her breath. 

“You’re really beautiful. You know that, right?” Willow smiled, tracing around Isabel’s ankle. “I like the stars you drew on your cuffed jeans.” Isabel didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded. “Is it true— are you gay?” Willow asked, then hesitated. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine—” she was cut off by Isabel, who was nodding once again. 

They sat in silence for a moment, both girl nervous in anticipation of what would happen next. Then, Willow leaned towards Isabel, reaching out as if she needed her touch. Their lips met in what felt like an explosion of stars, tumbling over each other in their haste to explode with joy and create a new universe that was entirely their own.