Ask PHO

“Took you long enough,” Sophia grumbled as I stepped away from my parents and I responded with a pouty frown. Sophia looked stunning, in a low deep green dress with long sleeves that seemed to part slightly down the forearm. I most certainly did not even notice the low neckline. It was more of a window anyways, a big one. The shoulders going up to form a very low choker near the base of her neck. Her dark hair was done up in a poof above and behind her head. I smiled anyways as I kept walking up to her. “Emma’s already flipped out about outfits, lucky you chose the right color.”

I blinked and looked down. My own outfit was an icy blue and much shorter, coming partway up my thighs. It cinched in with a white wrap at my waist and it was strapless, showing off an amount of cleavage that was helped by the built-in pushup bra. I blinked and looked up at her, giving a smile. “Yeah? It’s not hard to remember. Red’s sort of her color and I helped you pick out your dress.” Sophia’s had been expensive with a capital expensive but the girl didn’t seem too worried about that and liked my choice. 

It looked stunning on her. My dress was more… springy. But, hey, it was February. I deserved to have a little brightness to my blues. It was a thing. Emma had insisted we had a red, blue, and green color thing going on. Sophia got green, I got blue, Emma got red. All Emma’s choice which- well, that wasn’t a big deal. It was her sister’s wedding, after all. Speaking of…

“Where is she?”

“Emma? Helping her sister get ready. Lucky you that you missed her. I should’ve came later too.” Sophia grumbled, clearly looking annoyed. Which was dumb. It wasn’t often that we all got to dress up like this. 

"Oh? Off to see that secret boyfriend of yours?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows. Sophia rolled her eyes and I grinned.

"I don't have a secret boyfriend,” She grumbled, the eyeroll turning into an annoyed glare. Like a tiger would give when you poked it with a stick at a zoo.

“Secret girlfriend? I don’t discriminate.” She shook her head at my second question.

“I don’t have any secret romantic partners,” She said as I opened my mouth a third time and I closed it in a frown. “No boyfriends, girlfriends, or otherwise.”

“Crushes?”

“Nope,” She popped the ‘p’ in her statement. “I am super single and super uninterested in anyone I know.”

I frowned, staring at her and crossing my arms. “Liar.”

“Why am I lying? Why would you think I’m lying?” Sophia asked, throwing her arms onto her hips and giving me a glare. 

“Because I need some kind of romantic drama in my life and you’re always busy, ergo, you have a secret lover and that's why you're always busy." 

"Did you just say 'ergo'?" Sophia asked me with a deadpan look before she shook her head. "Sorry, Mads. No dramatic secret romance here. Just a girl with a crummy part time job she doesn’t want to tell people about.”

I groaned before I locked into a word, my eyes going wide with excitement. “A secret job?” I asked, suddenly intrigued. “Are you a stripper?”

“A stripper?” Sophia echoed, her voice as deadpan as her look as she stared at me with what was a mix of disbelief and dismissive annoyance. 

I shrugged, “You’ve got the looks for it. I’d watch you- I mean- I would if I was a guy, anyways.” I replied with a shrug.

“If you want romance so much, why don’t you let one of the guys that’s always chasing you ask you out?” Sophia asked and I just shook my head. She just didn’t get it.

Sure, there were boys that followed me around like lapdogs. But, if I dated any then the rest would stop following after me and then they wouldn’t be around to do whatever I needed them to. I didn’t want to trade a handful of useful boys for one boyfriend… but, on top of that, none of the boys that liked me were my type. I wasn’t interested in them. I wanted a pale guy, long dark hair, slender or scrawny, blame it on all the vampire media that I grew up on. Glasses would be a cute plus, I had a thing for glasses.

“Nah, I’m not really interested in them.”

Sophia sighed, “Then can we not talk about dating?”

I was shocked, my jaw dropping, “How can you not want to talk about romance at a wedding? That’s, like, the number one kind of place to think about it. Don’t you wanna be up there?” I nodded towards the altar, the bride and groom yet to show up to it. Sophia perked up and I finally thought I’d gotten through before I followed her eyes.

I followed her gaze and watched as Emma scurried out of a door and over to us. Emma was in a floor-length red dress, sleeveless. I thought it was a weird sort of hourglass shape before I realized- no- it was just clinging to her and Emma just had that good of a figure. It hugged her wide hips, then billowed back out around the knees. The dress wasn’t on her shoulders, instead the shoulder straps went over her biceps and showed off the top of her chest. I felt my breath hitch at the sight of her and my heart thudding like I’d ran a marathon in my ears, Emma was just so beautiful.

“Sophia! Madison! Oh my god, you guys aren’t going to believe it,” The redhead said with an excited look in her eyes and a big grin on her red-painted lips. I blinked, thinking and Sophia smirked. I smiled too, of course, not quite understanding what the implication was. Emma would probably say it anyways. “Look,” She pointed and I leaned, looking past to see a… forgettable balding guy with glasses and a ratty, ill-fitting suit.

“Who am I looking at?” I asked and Emma grinned, I stared at her red lips and perfect teeth, confused.

“Taylor’s Dad ! That means she has to be here, right?” The redhead began to move, trying to look over or past the crowd to spot the girl. 

“You want us to keep an eye out?” Sophia asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Would we cause a scene? If we did anything?” I glanced, looking between the two cute girls. Emma shook her head.

“No? We wouldn’t do anything big. Just some chatting.” I moved my mouth to the side, lips slightly puckered. I had a feeling that the chats would be more barbed than just a little chat. Emma’s smiled had the sort of sadistic streak that made that evident.

“I haven’t seen her,” I said.

“Same. I’d have noticed if she was here.”

“I bet she’s hiding. Gosh, how embarrassing. She has to look ugly, right? Right? Like, no makeup, shitty thriftstore dress, y’know?” Emma asked, an enthusiastic glee in her voice. I nodded my head, so did Sophia. Emma turned as someone called her name.

“Gotta go. Duty calls. Text me if you see her?” Emma asked as her heels clicked away. I watched as she left, a sway to her hips. Then I turned to look at Sophia.

“Are we…?” 

“I’m not gonna look. I’ll let her know if I see her but…” Sophia shrugged. “Who knows. You think she’s here?”

I made a face. “She’s not an idiot, even if she’s dumb. Maybe she’s hiding, maybe she talked herself out of coming?”

Sophia nodded. “True. It’d be fun if we found her, though, huh?”

I forced a smile, “Yeah. It’d be something to do.” I looked forward. 

“Maybe I’ll look for her.”

I felt sick. I tended to, when I thought about all the stuff we did to Taylor. She was a bit of a social pariah and I would way rather her be the target rather than me. But… That didn’t mean I didn’t feel bad about it. If I had my way, nobody would. But, hey, it’s math, right? I’m not good at math, but I’m pretty sure one person having a rough time was better than everyone having a rough time. Even if things sometimes Sophia and Emma’s ideas could go a little too far.

“I’m gonna run to the ladies room, want to come?” I asked and Sophia shook her head, looking at her phone.

“Nah, I’m gonna step outside. Coach is calling me.” I nodded my head and split from her, taking a deep sigh.

The whole situation with Taylor was fucked up. Why couldn’t she just transfer? I barely talked Sophia and Emma out of a gross prank idea for the new year because, like, who the fuck collects their used tampons? Gross. It wasn’t the grossness that convinced them otherwise, but it got us on a path to not doing it.

Mainly thanks to Sophia pointing out septic shock and stuff. Nobody wanted to kill her, after all. Well…

Sophia did feel like a serial killer in the making. I was hoping she could be some kind of sexy super spy femme fatale. It’d be better than her joining a gang or a villain.

Emma was… weird. She was great, fun, awesome. But when it came to Taylor, she got more… unhinged. Sadistic. Maybe she and Sophia could be super spies together.

I… didn’t plan on staying with them after graduation, unless they went to college with me. A roommate I knew would be great. 

Then there was the whole thing Sophia and Emma seemed to forget: the whole Carrie movie from Earth Aleph. The last thing I wanted was for us to go too far and Taylor to go off and join the Slaughterhouse Nine and bring them to school. Or… or any other kind of supervillain vengeance. I wouldn’t blame her.

If I had powers…

I shook my head as I pushed at the door… and found it locked. Great. I rolled my eyes and went to move to find another bathroom. Emma’s rich parents and Emma’s Brother-In-Law’s parents had shilled out a lot of money for a wedding atop one of the many towers of the Brockton Skyline. It gave a great view. Maybe I’d want something more traditional?

The bougie penthouse wedding did mean there were ample bathrooms at what was basically the floor-spanning rooftop manor fifty stories above the city. I made my way around, looking for another one. I finally found a women’s restroom next to a men’s one and pushed open the door. 

I froze and the door swung shut behind me. My eyes were locked on the man in the bathroom. He was facing away from me, dressed in a decently fitting black suit. I couldn’t see his face but what I was seeing was super cute. Slim shoulders, long curly black hair, a really cute butt. Fingers crossed that he had a cute face and I’d found my dream guy, even if nobody I’d ever seen had the pretty face that I’d been looking for yet. I hung there for a second, debating my options, before I called out. 

“You know, boys aren’t allowed in the women’s restroom. Even if they’re cute.” He tensed, freezing up, and I grinned. My chest getting a tad twisted at how flighty he seemed to be. He looked over his shoulder, our eyes met, and then I noticed the profile of his face. Then his whole face as he turned around.

She.

She turned around.

“Madison?” Taylor said shock evident in her voice. I stared at her, feeling amply confused and far more embarrassed. 

“Taylor.” I parroted, my mind still reeling. How could I have thought that she was my dream guy? She wasn’t even a guy. She was Taylor. She was a social pariah and outcast. She was Winslow punching bag number one. The black suit pants clung to her long legs, the white dress shirt and black suit jacket clinging to her top, the shirt- almost certainly tailored for a guy- clung to the gentle curve of her chest, highlighting it despite the very modest size of Taylor’s- uh- assets. She was rocking that suit. What? No. No! She was totally not! Hello brain? Please stop thinking that she’s hot. She’s a girl! Why is she in a suit? Why did she look so good in it? “What are you doing here?”

Taylor blinked, rubbing her arm as she looked away from me like she was about to ask me on a date. “My dad and Anne’s are friends. I had to come… not that I wanted to,” Taylor grumbled and I just nodded my head. I didn’t expect that she would.

She was Taylor. She wasn’t exactly a socialite. She was more of the quiet broody type, when we weren’t messing with her. Gosh, if she were a boy… I pushed the image of her out of my head and when it came back, I realized I had to do something. I put my clutch on the counter, “Let me put makeup on you.”

Taylor’s eyes went a little wide behind her glasses, “Uh-”

I had an idea. Obviously, the problem was that she was a little too masculine in that suit. That was why she was so hot to me, right now. She was tricking my brain, somehow. This would fix that. “You’re going to a wedding. Emma will rip you up if you’re not wearing it. I don’t want her to cause a scene on her sister’s big day.” I said, pulling out some makeup from my bag. There wasn’t much to work with, mainly stuff to give myself some touchups in the event of a catastrophe. “So, I’m going to help you.” I said as I looked around. 

“Push the trash can in front of the door? I don’t want anyone walking in on us while I’m doing this.” No matter how hot she looked right now, I didn’t want Sophia or Emma to walk in on us. Taylor blinked, clearly confused. She stared at me for a few minutes, her brows knit behind her black framed glasses. After a moment she moved, doing what I said. 

I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes flicking down to her rear before I shook my head. I looked in the mirror, realizing my cheeks were pink. Why was I so flustered? She was a girl ! She was Taylor freaking Hebert.

I breathed out, trying to calm myself. What was going on? Why was I feeling so- so- weird? I’d never felt like this before. My stomach felt like a swarm of moths buzzing around a lamp. I looked over, my eyes lingering on Taylor before I turned to look back at myself. What was I supposed to do?

I swallowed, shutting my eyes, and checked my supplies as I heard Taylor approach me again. I looked over, felt my throat clamp shut, and then moved, going to hop up on the counter, careful not to do so near any water. “Come here.”

“Why- You’re not going to fuck up my face, are you?” Taylor asked, her voice suspicious and tense. I huffed and rolled my eyes, then gave her a level look.

“Seriously?” I asked, shocked by the implication.

“Seriously. You’re not going to-”

“Taylor, girl, I’m not going to rob someone of her big day for a joke. Weddings are- uh-” I struggled to get the right word. I knew it started with a ‘sack’ so I improvised to show off. “-Sacrament?”

“Sacrosanct?” Taylor corrected and I suddenly felt like I faceplanted. Like I had back during middleschool basketball when I failed to catch a pass and it slammed into my face. Except it was none of the physical pain and all of the mental fuckiness. 

“Yeah, that, whatever.” I blew it off and spread my legs, motioning for her to stand in between them as I leaned forward, going to grab some foundation. It wasn’t a big palette but I was pretty sure the palest option was close enough. 

“You care that much about Anne’s wedding?” Taylor asked, as I started applying it. With one hand- a hand that was holding the soft cheek that I wasn’t dusting at for support- I thumped her on the side of the head. 

“It’s not- It’s not that it’s Anne’s wedding. Anne’s cool, but we’re not close. It’s the concept . It’s a wedding, what girl doesn’t love weddings? Romance? Uh-ah-y’know? Someone that cares about you more than anyone else? Getting to be and have a special someone? Someone you can rely and depend on no matter what? It’s… I dunno. I want that, and I want to have a special day like this one day, and I don’t want to ruin it for someone else.”

Taylor was quiet at that and I continued, applying a little bit of contour. I wasn’t sure if it went on before or after the base but it was whatever. It worked if it worked and makeup was an art, not a science. “Why are you wearing a suit, anyways?” Taylor blinked and I almost hit her for it. I pulled away, pushing her back by the shoulder a little as she looked like she was going to sneeze and then it died down. She moved back in, our faces close as I leaned forward to continue working.

“My old dresses didn’t fit and, uh, we didn’t want to go through my mom’s things.” Taylor said, eyes looking down like she was nervous and about to ask someone to prom. I rolled my eyes. “So, my dad told me to try on one of his old suits.”

“Your family was more willing to go through your dad’s stuff than your mom’s?” I asked, continuing to work as she went silent. “Don’t you dare nod, speak. If you bump this brush, Taylor, so help me-”

“I-Yeah. My mom’s stuff… We didn’t want to go through it. My dad wouldn’t help me go through it and it’s- yeah. It was easier to do this. It’s just for a few hours.” That last bit sounded like a sentence she was repeating rather than saying. I frowned. 

“That’s a shame. Every girl deserves a nice dress. Even if you don’t look bad in that,” I admitted as I continued to work.

“Like a cute boy?” Taylor asked, her voice thin and hard. It was like a sledgehammer to my chest, my throat clamping shut as I went quiet, the weird feeling like dancing spaghetti in my stomach growing more intense. This room needed better AC, because my face was feeling toasty.

I stayed quiet, focusing on my task at hand. I continued. Staring at pieces of skin as I painted it, her face my canvas for the moment as I finished the foundation and moved on to other things. I wasn’t completely quiet, coaching her through certain motions even if she did seem to get some of it. Which was surprising. I’d never seen her wear makeup but maybe she’d done it back in middle school or her mom did her makeup at formal events outside of school. It was simple, things like ‘eyes closed’ when I was doing her eyeshadow or pressing a thumb on her chin to get her to tilt her head one way or another. She seemed hesitant when I took her glasses off and sat them next to me on the sink counter. I moved, leaning forward, going to pull out some lipstick. A part of me wanted to pull out some black lipstick to give her a more edgy look. If I did just the top lip, I could probably get her looking like one of my favorite cartoon characters from back when I was a kid. Doubly so if I could get Taylor in a skintight green and black catsuit. I shoved the image of her in one out of my head, struggling to because throwing that image out was like trying to get whipped cream off your hands by flicking them. But, I did think Taylor could pull off a sort of emo look. Black liptick, black fingernails, it would look super hot on her. Not that it mattered, the only lipstick that I had on me was a light pink. 

I moved, our faces a bit closer as I pressed my lipstick against her lips, feeling her breath prickle along my hand as I moved it along her mouth. My eyes stuck on her lips as the light pink stick pressed and pushed at them. I was a bit worried I was sick, because my breathing felt shallow by the time I finished. I pulled my lipstick away and went to put it up before Taylor looked at me. I moved, pressing the lipstick against my lips to fix my own lips up before I pressed them together to smooth it out and she mimicked me. Good. That’s why I did it, to show her.

It was hot in here, I guess, because her cheeks were a little pink as well. Good, I wasn’t going crazy. Why did I feel crazy? “There. Makeup done.” I said as I took in her image. My chest felt like it was crumpling tighter, lungs shrinking as I stared at her. The room felt hotter and I felt a tingle in my toes as I stared at my handiwork.

Taylor lifted an eyebrow and I watched as the lifted eyebrow pulled up her faint eyeshadow, highlighting the girl’s eyes. Highlighting her brow. I felt woozy. I couldn’t tell if my makeup handiwork had been particularly amazing or if an amazing canvas had caused my performance to ascend beyond what was thought possible.

“Madison?” Taylor asked, snapping out of my stupor. “Why are you staring? Do I look okay?”

“Oh- oh- yeah. Yeah, you look- yeah. More than okay.” I had expected the makeup to make her look less good because it was supposed to counter the weirdness that Taylor In A Suit was causing to my brain. The femininity of makeup to counter the masculinity of her suit. But for some reason, the makeup made her look better. Which…

That wasn’t what it was supposed to do.

“You look great. Wow. Uh… You should do makeup more often.” I said and she nodded, moving a hand to brush her hair back. 

“Okay?” She said, sounding uncomfortable as she glanced away. Shit. Did I fuck up? Of course. This whole thing was a royal screw up. “Can I have my glasses back so I can see?”

“Oh-oh. Yeah. Uh- here.” I grabbed the glasses, pulled the arms out and leaned forward to slide them onto her face, she screwed her eyes shut, probably scared I would poke them out. They opened and I stared at them, a foot away from them. She stared at my eyes. Or- Or, I stared at hers. It was hard to tell. Both? Maybe I was just freezing, worried she would yank me off the counter. I wouldn’t blame her.

“Could you scoot back?” She asked and I blinked before nodding, sitting back. She moved to the side and I kicked my dangling legs. 

“I- Wow.” She stared at herself in the mirror. I bet she felt like Cinderella after a little bippity boppity boo. She certainly had the look of a post-transformation Cinderella. Except with dark hair. And a suit. And making me feel much weirder than I had with the Disney movie.

“Yeah,” I said, shifting to look at myself. My shoulder-length bob bouncing a little. It was wavy today- intentionally. I had wanted to get a perm or something but my Mom hadn’t let me. I didn’t spend much time looking at myself, though, my eyes instead shifting to look at Taylor’s reflection.

There was a bang at the bathroom door. I turned, looking in the direction of them and feeling my heart jump up my throat. That was fine. I was used to it, Taylor was making all my organs crawl up my neck. Taylor looked at the door too, seeming a little panicked. I looked at her and grinned. I hopped off the counter, nudging the trashcan out of the way with my foot before I cracked open the door.

“Madison? What’re you…” Emma looked at my lips- my freshly applied lipstick- then down at where my dress had hiked up slightly from moving onto the counter then off. I’d seen in the mirror that my face was entirely flushed and the weird sickness that Taylor was making me feel still had my breathing shallow and shaky. Emma’s lifted an eyebrow and gave me a look. A big smile creeping onto her face, “No!” She said, with shock and intrigue in her voice as she moved to try and peek into the bathroom. I scooched myself to block her but she must’ve got a glimpse of something because her mouth went open in surprise. 

“What?” I asked, to try and keep her from pushing in more. She stepped back, leaning forward slightly to whisper.

“I can not believe that you’re hooking up with someone at my sister’s wedding!” She sounded more surprised and enthused than shocked. Not an angry ‘I can not believe’ but a surprised and interested, gossipy type of ‘I can not believe’. 

“I-I’m not-” I started to protest and she shook her head, her low neckline catching my eye and red, styled hair bouncing.

“I saw his sleeve and one of his legs, Mads. I know . Oh my gosh.” I felt my fingers tingle. Me and Taylor? No way. No way. No. I opened my mouth then closed it, tongue gliding along my lips.

I couldn’t tell her that I was in here with Taylor. Then Taylor would suffer and… And sure, she was a punching bag at school but I’d never liked that. It was just part of it, the price of my survival at that hellhole. 

It felt… a lot less…. A lot more… it felt like a lot. 

“Yeah. Okay, fine. You caught me.” I said as I glanced back at Taylor, who was pressed against a wall with terrified eyes behind those adorable glasses. I shook my head. “Could you- uh- text me where to meet you once…”

“Once you’re done? For sure.” Emma said with a barely hidden giggle. “You’re gonna have to tell me about it later.” 

“Yep, yep.” I said as I pressed the door shut and slid the trashcan back to block it. I looked at Taylor. The ‘guy’ that I was ‘hooking up with’. We weren’t hooking up, firstly. I moved, my shoes clicking as I moved over to her. “That was close.”

“Yeah,” She said, her voice clearly scared.

“I’m… I’m gonna go.” I said, my mind still on Emma’s accusation and Taylor’s worried face. I opened my mouth then shut it. Taylor’s eyes were on me, wary, and I forced a smile. It wasn’t that hard. “Stay here for a few? Just in case? And find a long way to the room?”

Taylor nodded rapidly as I backed away. I grabbed my purse then made my way out of the room. Glancing at my phone showed Emma messaging me that the ceremony was starting soon but she had to get details on my ‘boy toy’. 

How was I supposed to tell her it was Taylor- and- and that Taylor wasn’t my boytoy. Even if now the image was stuck in my head, along with some of the others. Snapshots of memories from when I was doing Taylor’s makeup or the passing thoughts that had come in them. My mind was racing and I felt sick as I followed the thoughts, thinking about it all and trying to figure out what the hell was going on in my brain. I forced out a breath as I flicked around on my phone. 

I needed help. I needed someone to talk to. Emma and Sophia were right out. So was Taylor. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea and… and yeah. I couldn’t ask her. Or any of my family because of both the teasing and because I couldn’t trust them with the information.

There was one place to turn to.

Making an alt account on PHO was easy enough and making a new thread was even easier.

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♦ Topic: [16F] How do I know if I have a crush on another girl???

In: Boards ► General ► Advice ► Romance

SpecificThrowaway (Original Poster) (New User)

Posted On Feb 3rd 2018:

Hey there, I just had a weird experience and really need advice. I was at a formal event recently and there was a girl in a suit. She looked really hot in it. We chatted and I helped her with some makeup but I felt really weird the whole time. Like I felt butterflies and couldn’t breath very well and stuff???

I helped her do her makeup and her hair smelled nice. She looked really hot in the suit but like I think it’s because my type is tall scrawny guys with long black hair and glasses and that’s basically her so maybe I was being tricked??? But after I helped her put makeup on she was even more hot and she told me to stop staring at her and idk what to do. I can’t stop thinking about her. We got to the same school but aren’t friends. I thought maybe she was making me sick with her shampoo because I feel really weird. Like my stomach feels all floppy and I kept stop blushing.

What do I do PHO? Am I gay? I’ve always liked boys even if I’ve never found one that I liked. SO why do I suddenly like her? What do I do if I’m gay and she isn’t? My friends don’t like her and I can’t talk to them about it because of that.

I’m freaking out. Please help!!!!!!

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