Who We Could Be by Chelsea M. Cameron

Author:Chelsea M. Cameron [Cameron, Chelsea M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, romance book, Contemporary, lesbian, love story
Publisher: Chelsea M. Cameron
Published: 2020-10-25T18:30:00+00:00

I COULDN’T STOP SMILING that night. So far, so good on coming out. I knew that it wasn’t going to be all roses and rainbow flags, but this was a good sign.

“I’m a lesbian,” tried saying as I dipped chicken strips in flour, buttermilk, and then breadcrumbs to fry up for dinner.

“I’m a lesbian,” I said as I washed my hair in the shower.

“I’m a lesbian,” I said as I brushed my teeth in the mirror, spitting toothpaste everywhere.

The word felt foreign on my tongue, but I liked the sound of it. I liked the weight of it, sitting on my shoulders like and invisible shawl.

“I’m a lesbian,” I whispered into the dark as I lay in bed.

“I’m a lesbian,” I said to Tessa five minutes later when I called her.

“Well hello to you too. So, you settled on that label?” She sounded tired, but I was too wired and I needed to talk to my best friend.

“Yeah. It feels right, at least right now. So yes. I am a lesbian. I talked to your aunts tonight. They told me how they came out and transitioning and everything.”

Tessa yawned. “Sorry. Yeah, They’re pretty amazing. Were they helpful?”

“Yeah, they were.”

“Did they give you lessons on how to be a lesbian?”

“Uh, no? What kind of lessons would those be?”

“Oh, you know, how to wear a beanie and fix a sink and shit,” she said.

“Tessa, those are just stereotypes. There’s no one right way to be a lesbian.”

“That sounds like something a lesbian would say.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry I called you.”

She laughed in my ear. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Do you need help sleeping?”

I hadn’t realized that I did need to hear her voice tell me silly things as I drifted off.

“Maybe just for a few minutes.”

“Ford, you know when I get started that I don’t know how to stop. Anyway, since we haven’t done this in a while, I’ve got stuff saved up.”

Of course she did. When we’d been on our trip, if we’d stayed up a little late, she’d talked to me like she used to over the phone, but somehow it was different, having her right there. I was too busy being aware of her to listen to what she’d been saying.

“I read the book that inadvertently started the Satanic Panic from the 80s and 90s. You wanna hear about it?” Her voice perked up and I felt my body sink into my mattress.

“Yeah, I want to hear about it.”

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