Those hazel eyes bore into me and I feel the impact right down to my marrow. “I'm gay, Preston,” she says, her voice cracking.
And just like that, I get the reason behind her confession now. I told her earlier that I didn't care enough to earn her trust, but she's given it anyway.
It doesn't matter that I already presumed she was a lesbian because of the Becca situation and the joke she made. She's still giving me her truth in the rawest sense of the word.
She's coming out to me...and silently asking for my acceptance.
She has it.
My brother Asher once told me there's a world of difference between people assuming or even knowing that he's bisexual...and actually confiding in someone that he is.
I don't think I ever really got that until now.
Tears are streaming down her cheeks and I have to restrain myself from walking over and wiping them away.
“I want so badly to be what she wants me to be, but I can't.” She wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “I keep thinking that maybe if I was, then I'd—”
She gives her head a slight shake as if dismissing the thought entirely, but I press on. “Then you'd what?”
She wraps her arms around herself. “Then I'd know what it feels like to be loved by someone again...because I'm starting to forget.”
The distance between us tightens and something deep inside my chest dislodges. I have every reason not to like her, and yet, seeing her so upset like this is the equivalent of someone turning down the sun. The world feels a little colder and a lot less bright when she cries.
“You don't want to be loved by someone like her.” I wait for her to look at me and then I continue. “You deserve more than a love based on contingencies. You, Kit Bishop, deserve the real fucking deal. The best kind of love. The constant, unwavering, selfless, for better or worse, never goes away and they'd do anything to see you smile kind of love. And one day, someone is going to come along and give it to you in spades. They're gonna crash right into you and never let go.”
She smiles through a new batch of tears. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
Because there's someone on this earth who was born to love this girl like she deserves. And I hope like hell she finds them.
“That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.”
“I have my moments.” I rub my palms on my knees. “So, when did you first realize you were gay? Did you always know, or was there some kind of experience that led to the discovery?”
She ponders the question for a moment before she says, “I'm pretty sure I always knew. But I think something started to click and I realized I was different from other girls when my mom walked in on me making my two dolls kiss while Ken was tossed across the room somewhere.”
I place my hand on my chest. “Ouch, poor Ken.”
She waves a hand. “Don't feel too bad. I gave him to a friend who had hundreds of dolls, so I'm pretty sure he made his rounds.”
“How did your mom react after she walked in?”
She inhales deeply. “She was amazing. I thought she would be upset or tell me I was doing something wrong because my girl dolls shouldn't kiss each other...but she didn't. She sat down next to me, wrapped me in her arms, and told me she loved me.”
She turns so she's facing the water. “Whenever I come out to someone...I usually hear the same stupid shit. If it's a guy, he'll make a joke about how I'm a wet dream come to life. Then when he realizes I'm serious and not interested, he'll tell me that I'm—” She holds up her fingers and makes air quotes. “Too pretty to be a lesbian and I just haven't found the right guy yet.”
She rubs her temples. “If it's another girl, they're usually supportive at first...but then it happens. They slowly distance themselves, making excuses not to hang out or be alone with me. Like they're afraid I'm going to be overcome with the uncontrollable urge to yank down their pants and shove my face between their legs.”
She shrugs a shoulder. “It's why I only have one best friend. She never treated me like I was a leper. When I came out to her, she said it was no big deal and ordered us a pizza. She never once distanced herself from me or treated me like I was different.”
“I get it.” When she gives me a look, I say, “My brother is gay. Bisexual, actually. When people found out, most weren't too accepting of it.”
She snorts. “That probably has more to do with the fact that he's an asshole.”
When I narrow my eyes she says, “Yeah, I know all about your brother Asher. And had he not cheated and lied to my best friend Breslin back in high school...he would have had at least one person in his corner.”
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I ran into Breslin—literally ran into her—in the courtyard moments after I found Becca and Kit in the cafeteria. I had no idea that she attended Woodside before then though, or that she's Kit's best friend.
“You mean to tell me the friend you just described, the girl who never judged you for being gay is Breslin?” I stand up. “I hate to tell you this, but that girl is a two-faced bitch. She might not be judging you, but it's only so she can bide her time until she fucks you over.”
Kit lurches to her feet and the angry scowl is back with a vengeance. “Excuse me?” She balls her fists. “Don't you dare talk about—”
“Talk about who? The girl who bailed and skipped town after her boyfriend told her he was gay? The girl who slammed the door in his face and said she never wanted to see him again...leaving him there with tears in his goddamn eyes and his heart on the floor? Yeah, she's a fucking peach. Real supportive, that one. So supportive she—” I bite my tongue because if I share the information I have about Breslin...Kit will tell her.
And if Breslin finds out that I know all about her little set up before Asher does, she'll find a way to twist the truth and sink her hooks into him again.
I can see it now. The bitch will wait for the perfect opportunity...probably when he's a successful NFL player...and then she'll plunge that knife right through his heart all over again and take him to the cleaners.
Fuck that. I'm keeping this shit to myself. At least until Asher and his new boyfriend, Landon, are together long enough that he forgets all about her and can move on from both her and her betrayal.
Kit gets close to my face, or rather, my chest, given she's so tiny. “Don't call my best friend a bitch.”
“Don't call my brother an asshole,” I counter, and she shoves me.
When my 6'3” frame doesn't budge, she tries again.
“Get the hell off my bridge,” she screams.
“Believe me I would, but I don't know my way out of here,” I scream back. “Why the fuck do you think I've been sitting here talking to you for hours?”
She looks at me like I slapped her, and I immediately wish I could take the words back. “Dammit, Kit. I—”
“Shut up.” She digs around in her purse for a pen and paper and rapidly scribbles something on it before she slaps it on my chest. “Here. Now go.”
“I—”
She starts walking to her car. “Leave me alone, Preston.”