crush

Greaseball had always been the toughest. Greaseball had always been the strongest. Greaseball, at times, could also be the meanest and scariest. And people liked her, whether that be through friendship, admiration or even fear. Despite her tough guy- well, tough girl act, she’d always had friends, people to talk to and hang around.

But now all Greaseball could do was stare at herself in the reflection of her bedroom mirror. She wasn’t sure how to feel anymore, after all, it’s not everyday you begin to consider the possibility of liking girls, liking a girl. Greaseball liked a girl, and that filled her with shame. Not only from the idea of being different, but moreover from the idea of actually liking someone. It was incredibly weird feeling this way, when her stomach felt funny when she thought about it. So, she pushed it down deep inside. But now as she looked at herself in the mirror, she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to continue.

Greaseball had never stopped to think if she was pretty, at least in the way most girls of her age did. She had her father’s sharp jawline, but her mother’s soft eyes. Her hair was always messy, with grown out roots from her DIY hair dye attempt at blonde highlights in her naturally black hair. She had a resting ‘mean’ face and small scabs on her face from sports mishaps and scratched acne. She didn’t think of herself as pretty in a girly way, she didn’t want people to think that either. She was tough and cool, not cute. She had to snap out of this.

Turning away from the mirror, Greaseball rubbed her eyes, trying to erase all of those thoughts from her head. Out of all of the girls she knew, why did it have to be her. Why couldn’t it be Slick, who was rude and funny and knew good tricks like how to lie without getting caught. But no, it wasn’t that easy, Greaseball just had to have a crush on the most annoying girl in her class.

She wasn’t sure if Dinah knew the definition of quiet, that girl seemed to always be talking. She was too friendly, too forward, she always asked a million questions, she baked cupcakes for the class once a month, starlight could this girl ever take a break? Okay, maybe Greaseball didn’t mind the free cupcake thing, but apart from that, she was annoying. So why could it be that she liked her?

It clicked for Greaseball before the Math test on Thursday morning. She’d forgotten her eraser and when her teacher asked the class, only Dinah had a spare. As she handed it over, as their two hands touched, she was hit by a tidal wave of realization. Her mind went blank, her heartbeat faster and the room felt as though it was starting to get hotter. Greaseball was so overwhelmed she couldn’t even thank her, not even when Dinah smiled at her and said, “You can keep it if you want, I have a bunch more at home.”

Now lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, she rolled around the eraser in her hand. It was pink, shaped like a heart, as if it existed as a cruel reminder of Greaseball’s feelings for her. She didn’t know what to do. She’d seen gay people on TV, there was a rumor around town that two of the highschoolers were gay, although who they were was unknown, but Greaseball had never actually met a gay person before. The idea seemed foreign to her, like it was only something she could see on her TV, not something she could actually feel. But she did, and that was the problem.

She thought about her parents, they always seemed so perfect. How would they react if she told them? Her mom often joked, asking if there were any boys she liked. But how would she feel if Greaseball told her she liked a girl instead. Would she be ok with it? Would she get all distant? Or would she be so upset that she’d send her away? Slick had told her horror stories of what happened to kids in foster care, and even though she wasn’t sure she’d be able to cope living like that. And then, what about her dad? Would he get mad? Would he stop training her and paying for her sports? She wasn’t sure. But no matter how hard she tried, the internal dread of it all hung over her like a dark cloud.

She tried to work out what she liked about Dinah. She liked her hair and how pretty she looked when she smiled with her teeth. She liked the way she’d drawn on her shoes and put beads on her shoelaces. She liked the way she looked at her when she lent her the eraser. That stupid, stupid eraser. Was that what had triggered all this? If only she’d remembered to bring her stupid eraser.