I am not old enough to cross the street by myself yet. My brother walks me to the community center along with three other boys. We carry bags of candy on this holiday when anyone can dress up like a girl and no one will think twice about the decision. No one will wonder if that person prefers girls or boys. Instead, everyone will just take a good look and laugh at the drag queen. Except me.
The boy in front of me looks like a real girl. Long greasy black locks of hair sweep past my face as he turns his head around. He talks to another boy. My brother arrives at a gate and opens it up for the rest of us. A crowd of teenagers surround the pool deck but I keep my eyes on the greasy black mop in front of me. I like the way they look. I like the way they seem so different from everyone else in their halloween costumes. I, myself, am dressed in nothing more than a black t-shirt and jeans.
Perhaps, we have something in common. I think as the other boys lay across an empty pair of lounge chairs. I take a seat next to the boy-that-looks-like-a-girl. His face glows white from all the makeup. Except, their lips that look as dark as the night air that surrounds us. My heart beats heavily against my chest.
I never knew what the word “attraction” meant up until this moment. Whenever my parents tease me about a “girlfriend” they entertain the idea of a girl falling in love with me. Or at least liking me. Whenever anyone else teases me about this they entertain the idea that girls like me at all. However, the girls in my class treat me like another girlfriend. During recess they permit me to talk about the boys on the playground. They allow me to give them advice about which boy would best suit them for a elementary school relationship; a kind of romance that two members of the opposite sex engage themselves in during class projects, lunch table seating arrangements, and games at recess.
For example, when Travis and Samantha got together they chose each other for everything. During gym class he picked her first for his volleyball team before choosing me, his best friend. I wanted to hit him with a ball but he chose me next.
For example, Andres and Jennifer preferred to sit together at lunch. But the rules of the school were that only an even number of boys and girls could sit at the table. So if one of them came in late then another boy or girl would trade seats so that the two could sit together. I wanted to remain in my seat sometimes but removed myself out of civil manners.
For example, boys chased girls on the playground but I never wanted to chase girls so I found a hole to dig. I kept digging until the bell rang. I would much rather involve myself with dirt than hormones. Except for this Halloween, when I found myself asking this strange boy-that-looked-like-a-girl questions.
“Do you like to read?” I say to him. He turns his beautiful white face in my direction. He answers. I ask another question. He answers again. This exchange of words goes on and on until they leave. I cannot believe how lucky I am to feel normal for once. That I finally entered the game of sexuality.
“You know that’s a boy, right?” my brother asks. He is sitting with the other boys, laughing. I bite my lip. My hope is lost. My revelation is snuffed out with these words. I am still just alone.
“Yeah,” I say but my voice feels deflated. I no longer feel the longing to talk to the boy/girl or anyone else. I would much rather go dig a hole somewhere. I would much rather burry my loneliness than to sit around here looking foolish. Because everyone else saw it except for me.