A/N: I've wanted to write this for a long, long time... So, as always, FEEDBACK!!! I 3 feedback. Feedback makes my life. Put some sliver of joy into my bland, currently-at-my-grandparents'-house-in-NJ existance. Love you all! Mwah Now, R&R, n00bs. prods

Closeted

“Who do you like?”

I sat up in the dark, squirming out from my suddenly too-warm sleeping bag. All sleepovers eventually reached this point, as a rule. I’d known it, and maybe part of me was looking forward to it. It was an excuse, really, to say something that I’d never say otherwise, because how truly freakish it was. I wouldn’t want to draw attention to it.

And I didn’t want to draw attention to it. Part of me wanted this moment. But the rest of me was spazzing out. My hands were sweating and my heart was thudding, because she was getting closer to my secret.

“You first,” I croaked, dry-throated. I swallowed and tried again. “You first.”

Olivia shrugged, also sitting up. She thought for a moment, before answering, “Brianna.”

I sprang up, my own impending doom momentarily forgotten, and excitedly sat down cross-legged on the opposite end of the bed that Olivia was sleeping on—would be sleeping on, whenever we actually went to sleep.

“Brianna? You’re kidding, right? The girl doesn’t speak.”

Olivia wore a grin so wide it was visible in the almost-total darkness. “She’s quiet, so what? She’s hot. Like, insanely. Have you seen her body? Gorgeous. And her hair is amazing too. All long and wavy, that really nice red-brown color…”

“’Liv, snap out of it,” I admonished good-naturedly, recognizing at once the far-off look in Olivia’s eyes that she got when she was thinking about her latest crush.

Somewhat reluctantly, Olivia came back to reality. But, of course, she remembered what she had been doing, and her eyes lit up. “Sooooo,” she wheedled, now sitting up, bouncing slightly on the bed, “who do you like?”

“No one,” I responded with what I hoped was a casual shrug, turning my face away and praying it was too dark for her to see the blush that I was positive was creeping into my cheeks.

“You’re blushing!” she accused, grinning triumphantly.

Fuck.

“No, I’m not,” I said quickly. “I don’t like anyone right now. I don’t need to always—”

“Come on,” Olivia said, moving closer to me on the bed. “Please? Tell tell tell!”

I was close to caving. And this might be my only chance to tell someone. I mean, when would I get another opportunity to tell her? And, as much as I protested, as much as I denied, as much as I hid it, as scared as I was of her reaction… I needed to get it off my chest.

I drew a deep breath, readying myself. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll tell.” Olivia sat attentively. “It’s…” I took another breath. God, why was this so hard? I had to force myself to say it.

But I did.

“I like Jared,” I said, all in a rush, too afraid to stop in case I lost my nerve.

There was a long moment of silence. “You mean…?” Olivia finally managed, looking stunned.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I’m…” Saying it out loud would be a confirmation of how different I was from everyone else, what a freak I really was.

But she was my best friend.

“’Liv, I’m… I’m straight.”

Olivia drew breath sharply. I waited for her to speak, for a long time. Finally, she said, “Oh God…” Not the encouraging response I’d hope for. She continued, “Oh, Rach… When did you know?”

I shrugged. “I guess… I guess I’ve pretty much always known. That I was… different.” I said “different.” I meant “abnormal.”

“Are you… are you sure? I mean, maybe it’s just hormones,” said Olivia, a little too hopefully. “I thought I liked Daniel last year, but it turned out to be absolutely nothing.”

Suddenly, I was angry. “Okay, so when is something an actual crush, and when is it ‘just hormones?’” I demanded. “Your thing for Theresa last month, was that ‘just hormones?’ No, and you know why? Because hormones are people’s excuses for feeling things they don’t want to feel.” I expelled a lungful of air, suddenly drained. “Believe me,” I added quietly, “I wish it was ‘just hormones.’”

“But, I mean…” Olivia floundered for a moment. “Haven’t you ever liked girls?”

I shook my head. “No, not like this. It’s just so…” I knew I had a giddy smile on my face, but I couldn’t help it. “He’s so amazing. Everything about him is amazing, beautiful… Like if he could hold me, it’d all be alright.”

“But it’s so… unnatural.” Olivia wore a look of disgust now. “I mean, a guy putting his dick in your... God, it’s disgusting. And you could, like, get pregnant even if you didn’t want to…”

“I know,” I said in a small, defeated voice. “I know, I know, I know. I’m sick.” I knew I was. Hearing it from my best friend only confirmed it.

Olivia shifted uncomfortably. “Have you ever tried… not being straight? It’s choice, isn’t it, being…” She trailed off, as if unwilling to use the word that many times in a sentence. “Everyone says it’s a choice. So can’t you just… un-choose?”

My anger flared again. “You think I want this?” I demanded, struggling to keep my voice low so I wouldn’t wake my fathers, asleep in the next room. “You think I would choose this? Why the fuck would I choose to be a freak? Why would I choose to have people in the hallways come up to me and go, ‘hey, breeder!’ Do you choose who you love? Did you just wake up one morning and think, ‘hey, I’m going to crush on Brianna?’ You can’t choose who you love, and you don’t, and I can’t help it if the person I fell for is a guy, okay?!”

“Rach,” Olivia began. “Rachel, can’t you—”

Brilliant, fucking brilliant. She was going to show me more reasons that I was a freak. I didn’t want to hear it, not now. I was completely spend, and not able to deal with my best friend saying this stuff to me. “Good night,” I said steelily, cutting her off. She fell silent, and I slipped off the bed, back into my sleeping bag. Turning over, I caught sight of the digital clock hanging on the wall. 2:01 AM. On a normal sleepover, we would have been up until 5, maybe 6, maybe even not sleeping at all. But this wasn’t a normal sleepover, I thought as I lay there, thoughts racing through my head, obliterating any possibility of sleep.

Nothing was normal any more.