I Don’t Know Anything (But I Know I Miss You)

There was a silence between them, both looking up at the sky. JJ felt her stomach flutter again, nervous nausea settling in at Emily’s lack of response. She tried to find the Big Dipper like she always did when she felt anxiety creeping up on her — a tactic she had adopted long before her sister passed.

After what felt like forever, Emily let her hand rest on JJ’s, shot her a gentle smile of reassurance. She offered her the bottle again, chuckled when JJ chugged from the bottle — waited for her to be done before she spoke.

“Gay? Wow, that’s great, Jen.” Emily let out a breathy ghost of a laugh, shook her head before continuing. “Not good that you’re gay — well, it is good that you’re gay — but good that you’ve got it figured out. That you know what you want.”

“I’m out to my parents, but no one at school knows— just Aaron and you, now.”

Emily couldn’t imagine being herself with her mother — couldn't imagine telling Elizabeth her true feelings about sports and clothing, let alone something as big as her sexuality or who she loved. She felt a pang of jealousy that JJ could be open and honest with her parents, recognized that jealousy was the wrong emotion but couldn’t bring herself to move past it.

“I wish I could be honest with my mom.” Her tone was far away, eyes glazed over as she looked anywhere but at Jennifer.

“I understand if you don’t want to hang out anymore, you know?”

Jennifer’s voice was small, had a vulnerability to it that Emily wasn’t used to. She was so used to watching her be strong, even in the face of bullies, that seeing her so vulnerable — so nervous — was almost surreal to Emily. She took the bottle back, let her fingers brush against JJ’s in a silent understanding — everything is okay, nothing between us in our newfound friendship has changed — before taking a swig of the amber liquid.

“I would never stop being your friend because you like girls, Jen. That’s ridiculous.”

She watched as JJ’s lips turned upwards in a small, shy smile, eyes focused on the ends of Emily’s slightly curled hair. Emily extended her hand, laid it palm up between them as a sign for JJ to take it, both still laying on their backs on the roof, staring up at the rapidly setting sun.

After a moment, JJ took the offered hand, her lips twitching up into a shy smile that accompanied the faint pinkish blush coloring her face. Her grip was soft, hand resting inside of Emily’s hand — admired how Emily’s nails were perfectly manicured and white, a stark contrast to her own unpainted, bitten nails.

There was a silence between them, JJ staring out at the houses below them, cast only in the glow of the streetlights, while Emily stared at JJ. She wondered how she knew she was gay, if she had ever kissed a girl before, wondered idly if liking boys and girls was an acceptable option — wondered, at a place deep in the back of her mind, if she could identify as somewhere between gay and straight.

“How did you know?” Emily’s voice wavered, laced with confusion and wonder. “That you were gay, I mean.”

“I feel like I always knew but also recently found out. Does that make sense?” She turned, looking at Emily and offering her a lopsided half smile. “Now that I know, I realize I’ve always been… not straight, you know? But I guess it really clicked at the end of our freshman year when I kissed Elle at a party.”

JJ laughed softly to herself and Emily had to wonder if she missed some sort of inside joke. Her mind wandered to an image of JJ kissing girls at parties, an unknown feeling bubbling up in the pit of her stomach at the thought. She settled on it being a touch of jealous anger, not a pang of desire or confusion. Emily tried to look anywhere but at JJ’s lips, tried to let her mind wander to anywhere but the girls she had kissed — decided to ask about Elle instead.

“Elle as in Elle Greenaway, co-captain of the cheer team Elle? Recently broke up with Luke?”

JJ let out a vague hum of affirmation, her lips curving up into a smirk. She laughed again, shook her head before looking back at Emily.

“I didn’t know she was gay, she just broke up with Luke.”

“You can enjoy kissing girls and not be gay or bi.”

The thought made Emily’s head spin. She reasoned that she was slightly too tipsy for this sort of conversation, tried to push back the burn of jealousy at the thought of Jen kissing Elle — the thought of them doing more than kissing — reminded herself that she shouldn’t be jealous or angry because she had Aaron to kiss, the star quarterback.

She idly wondered what it would be like to be so carefree — to not care about who she was kissing as long as it brought her pleasure — pushed away the thoughts as to why Aaron’s kisses had never ignited those sparks she had always heard of. They were silent for a moment, Jennifer’s eyes glazed over and focused on a streetlight, deep in thought.

Emily found her own gaze wandering to Jennifer’s lips, the way they were pursed into a slight pout as she thought, found herself wondering what it would feel like to kiss a girl. She wondered if there would be those fireworks she had read about in the romance novels she hid from her mother — the ones she was forbidden from reading but always snuck home from the library under a sweater in her backpack, hiding them in a box in the depths of her closet until she had the time to read them.

“Hey, Jen?” She had so much she wanted to ask but not enough words to say what was on her mind.

Emily had always been fixated on learning, not just in an academic sense. She wanted to know everything about everyone — wanted to know the little experiences that culminated in the person that they came to be, the things that shaped them and helped them grow. It was something her mother never cultivated or encouraged, and for that reason she seemed to be fixated on it even more.

“Hmm?”

“Before you kissed her, how did you…” She trailed off, bottom lip ensnared between her teeth. She was unsure of how to say it — how to voice her own questions without sounding like she was prying or asking too much.

“How did I come to the conclusion that I was pretty sure I was gay?”

“Yeah, that.” Emily’s eyes were trained on Jennifer’s lips, watched the way she talked and the ever present subtle smile hiding behind her words. “Only if you want to tell me.”

“No, I don’t mind. Pass me that bottle.” Her fingers grazed Emily’s as she took the drink from her, taking a long swig from the bottle before clearing her throat. “I guess I always knew I was definitely not straight. None of my celebrity crushes were men… not even my teacher crushes.”

Emily’s mind briefly wandered to Mrs. Blake and how much she liked her — questioned for a second if it was a crush or just that she liked being a teacher’s pet. She put it out of her mind, eyes trained on Jennifer as she spoke.

“Do you remember when I briefly dated Will in the beginning of ninth grade?”

“Lamontagne?” Emily had a hazy memory of the beginning of ninth grade, so consumed with student council, French club, cheer, and her other activities. “As in FFA cowboy Will? The transfer with the funny accent?”

They both laughed, Jennifer nodding. There was a faint flush coloring her cheeks, most likely embarrassed by the memory. It wasn’t that he was unpopular, he was just everything that Jennifer wasn’t — while she was captain of the soccer team, he was getting up in the early hours of the morning to tend to cows and chickens before school. The more Emily thought of it, she had a vague recollection of Jennifer dating Will briefly at one point — laughed to herself when she realized just how funny of a couple they would be, sporty Jennifer beside Will in his signature cowboy hat and boots.

“I take it the relationship didn’t work out?”

“Not even enough to pretend.” Jennifer laughed softly, shaking her head. “I didn’t do a lot with him but there was no attraction — no excitement. It was a pretty firm idea in my head when we broke up… the gayness, I mean.”

“There were no fireworks?”

Jennifer was silent for a moment, bottom lip ensnared between her teeth as she pondered the question. Emily was right in describing it as lackluster, definitely not anywhere near the fireworks they had read about in books as children or seen in the romance films their mothers watched — but she wasn’t sure if she had ever felt those fireworks for anyone before. After a few minutes of quiet deliberation, she shook her head, confirming Emily’s thought.

“But there were fireworks with Elle? And other girls, I’m assuming.”

“Yes and no, I guess.” JJ pursed her lips in thought before offering Emily a reassuring smile. “There weren’t fireworks, but I knew it was right — more right than kissing a man, you know?”

Emily hummed out a vague noise in understanding, smiled back at Jennifer in an unguarded way she reserved for very few people. Her mind wandered to her own sexuality — or lack thereof — wondered if her lack of fireworks was from kissing the wrong person or the wrong gender entirely.

They sat in silence for a while, both reclined on the roof and looking at the moon above them while the night air turned from cool to cold. Jennifer shivered, palms of her hands rubbing at her biceps, and Emily kicked herself for not bringing a blanket out. She didn’t want to ruin the moment — to break the comfortable silence between them by clambering back inside — decided to pull off her sweater instead, work over a button down blouse and tucked into her mini skirt.

“Here, take this.”

She handed Jennifer the sweater, bit back a small smirk at the way the argyle sweater would look over ripped skinny jeans and a band tee. They both sat up slightly, Emily watching transfixed as Jennifer slipped her sweater on, smiling brightly and murmuring a shy thanks.

“Pre-warmed, I like it.”

Emily tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach when she looked at Jennifer in her sweater — wondered if this was the way Aaron felt when she wore his letterman jacket. She reasoned with herself that she was probably being ridiculous, this wasn’t anywhere near the same, she had simply loaned a sweater to her friend.

Somehow, her eyes kept wandering back to Jennifer’s face, watched her quietly as a ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. The way Jennifer’s eyes shone with a silent wonder, watching the cars go down the road made Emily’s heart clench — made her wish she could find a quiet joy in the little things.

“Have you ever thought about it?” Jennifer’s voice was raspy, cleared her throat before looking over at Emily. “Kissing a girl, I mean.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, tried to keep her tone calm and even — tried not to show her curiosity. “I’ve never… but I’ve wondered.”

“Never acted on it?”

“No. My first kiss was in eleventh grade.”

Jennifer tried not to act shocked by Emily’s admission, but it was almost unbelievable to her that someone as cool and popular as Emily had only recently been kissed. She cocked her head, idly wondered if Aaron was Emily’s first — not just kiss, everything— made a mental note to ask him if Emily was his first too.

“Was it Hotch?”

“Yeah, it was Aaron.”

A small smile played on Emily’s lips at the memory — remembered it like it had been yesterday. They had been dating for a few weeks and she had told him that she wouldn’t kiss him until the time was right — didn’t believe in kissing before he even got to know her. They had been to dinner and were walking around her neighborhood hand in hand, stopped in front of the duck pond where she ultimately let him bend and kiss her. She laughed softly to herself, thought that it would have been truly perfect if there had been those fireworks, but there weren’t — only a tingle of something in the pit of her stomach when their mouths connected.

She never understood the point of kissing — never understood how it was as pleasurable as people described it. Emily remembered Elle telling her about making out with Luke during a movie, so absorbed in each other they barely watched the film, and she just couldn’t fathom how kissing someone could be that good — could be anything other than the awkward chaste meshing of two pairs of lips.

“I… have a question.” She kicked herself for even opening her mouth, took a swig of amber liquid from the bottle so she could blame it on the alcohol.

“Hm?”

“Is it — kissing, I mean — good? It’s always felt so awkward with Aaron…”

Jennifer let out a small noise of agreement, lips pursing and brows furrowing in thought before smiling — so gently and warmly that it made Emily’s stomach flutter. There was no judgement in her tone, in her gaze, only inviting warm energy that made her feel safe and unashamed.

“It depends on who you’re kissing. When I kissed Will? It was awkward and bad. But when I’m kissing a girl I’m definitely aware of how gay I am — I could seriously kiss a girl for hours. Their lips are soft and it’s just better… like butterflies.”

Emily nodded, let Jennifer’s answer sink in, her mind wandering. She wondered if she would like kissing a girl — if it would be any different. If those butterflies would worm their way into her stomach the way Jennifer described. She couldn’t be gay — not with a boyfriend that she found unashamedly attractive — but wondered if there was a halfway point between gay and straight, decided to put that out of her mind for a moment.

“I’ve always thought about it. Trying it with a girl.”

“Do you want to…? We could, just to see.”

She felt her heart race at Jennifer’s suggestion, at the way her stomach flipped with nervous butterflies. Her mind was a bit too hazy to rationally think — to sort out the pros from the cons, consider the offer clearly. Emily’s drunken mind reasoned that no, it wouldn’t be cheating on Aaron because sometimes girls kiss their friends — it could be like practicing to be better for him.

After a moment, Emily nodded, slow and deliberate. She sat up, pushed the glass bottle back through the window into her bedroom before turning to Jennifer, a nervous half smile on her lips. She wondered if she would be good — if Jennifer, with more experience in general, would think she was inexperienced.

Jennifer sat up, scooting towards her so they were sitting nestled in each other — Emily’s legs thrown over Jennifer’s lap. She cupped Emily’s cheek, thumb stroking over the soft skin, eyes trained on her lips just barely an inch apart.

“Are you sure?” Jennifer’s voice was raspy, barely heard, her lips brushing against the corner of Emily’s mouth as she waited for an answer — if she was sure she wanted to go through with it.

Emily could barely choke out an answer, heart thudding in her chest and stomach flipping. She couldn’t tell if it was desire or anxiety, but rather liked the way it felt — the way she felt wanted and cared about.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Her voice was too soft to even be a whisper, eyes fluttering shut. “You can kiss me.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from both of them as their lips connected, Jennifer pulling Emily into her. It was like the world slowed down, and nothing mattered between them other than the press of their lips, the way Jennifer exhaled against Emily’s lips and let her tongue dance out and brush across her bottom lip.

When they finally pulled apart after what felt like a few seconds and an eternity all rolled into one, they were both flushed, cheeks pinkened and chests heaving. There was a soft smile on Jennifer’s face, eyes shining in a way that made Emily’s heart leap.

Emily tried to ignore the fact that in all the times she had kissed Aaron, she had never felt anything like this — so good and true. Her stomach felt like it was fluttering, lips tingling from the touch. Was this the fireworks? The dull burn in the pit of her stomach was almost distracting — almost made her miss Jennifer’s soft murmur of a question.

“What’d you say?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good.” Emily smiled, tried to look anywhere but at Jennifer’s lips — settled on her sparkly blue eyes instead. “You?”

“I’m okay. No hard feelings, right?”

Emily nodded, glad that nothing would be weird between them. Jennifer was her first friend outside of her mother’s influence — the first friend that looked past her outward appearance and got to know the person she was, outside of the cheerleading, rich girl exterior shell of a person she hated so much.

“So… still straight?”

“Yeah, still straight.”

Emily forced a laugh, afraid to admit the butterflies in her stomach and tingling in her lips from a simple, chaste kiss from her friend — tried to push back the feelings of confusion and desire, of something suddenly clicking and giving way to a new level of questioning herself, questioning everything she thought she knew.

“Good. Wouldn’t want to turn you gay.”

“You could never.”