The Breaking Point

It’s the morning after, and I feel like a soggy, discarded dish rag.

The first time Shizuka and I ambushed a pedo, I felt pure bliss for an entire week. Whenever I remembered the things she had done for me, despite not wanting to, it was like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of her love.

Each time after, it got less and less special. Now all I think about is how my attempt to make her jealous turned us into criminals, how wary she is around me now, and how frustrated I am that she won’t give me what I really want.

But in that one moment last night, we really connected. We were in our own world, one that nobody else could ever understand, let alone intrude on. And in that moment, I truly thought it was worth it.

Today, I’m paying for that hubris. Is this what being an addict is like? Am I addicted to Shizuka in the worst possible way?

Somehow, I manage to put on a cheery face, hold down a light breakfast, and fool my parents into thinking everything’s normal. Maybe, with enough time and practice, I can fool myself as well.

Everything isn’t normal, though. I don’t see Shizuka at all on my way to school. She used to pick me up every day, but she stopped when the rumors about us started. Instead, she switched to meeting me at the train station, but today, she’s not here. No messages on my phone either. I wait for the next train, even though she’s never been late in her life.

Well this is a disturbing fucking development. To be honest, this isn’t the first morning she’s stood me up lately, but she always had the decency to message me. Does she hate me now or something?

Maybe I deserve this.

She’s not at her desk either, and when I see that, I hope for a moment that she’s staying home sick. Ugh, how low can I stoop? Wishing illness on the girl I like has got to be one of the most messed up things I’ve ever done, including the robberies.

“Hey Coco, why aren’t you with your girlfriend today?” I’m so absorbed in my own thoughts that I almost don’t register the mocking tone of one of my classmates. What’s her name again? Everyone calls her Ai-chan, I think.

She expects me to argue, but I just shrug. Unlike Shizuka, I’m not ashamed of how everyone sees us. In fact, I want them to think we’re a couple. It’ll make things easier when she finally confesses.

“You’d better be careful,” Ai-whoever says. “I saw her following another girl out to the courtyard.”

Immediately, I turn on my heels and power-walk out of the classroom. I don’t care how desperate it makes me look. I need to see her.

I find her standing in a familiar spot, listening to a confession from another girl. She’s wearing a first-year ribbon, but I’ve never seen her before. Must be from another class.

If our situations were reversed, I know Shizuka would come charging to my rescue, just like she always does, but I can’t do that. I’m the girl in our relationship. I mean, we’re both girls, but I’m shorter, so… No, that’s not right. I’m more feminine? But Shizuka’s feminine too. She’s just tall. Ugh, this is confusing. I don’t know how relationships between girls work, but Shizuka’s supposed to be the one to confess.

And she should know that too! Even though she complains about all the boys giving me attention, she rejects at least one girl a week, sometimes from different schools! She has way more experience than me when it comes to same-sex romance.

Wait, maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Maybe she won’t confess because she doesn’t realize she likes girls? Ridiculous. That’s ridiculous, Shizuka. How blind can you be to your own feelings? I’ve seen the way you look at me. When we’re alone, your face softens, your cheeks turn the cutest shade of red, and you get this hungry look in your eyes.

If you don’t realize it, I need to make you realize it.

But how do I do that without confessing first? My shoulders slump as I realize I’m not smart enough to figure this out. I slink back to class ahead of Shizuka. When I slide open the door, Ai-whoever is waiting for me with a triumphant smile, but when she sees me, she quickly looks away.

Damn. Do I really look that terrible? Closing my eyes, I slap my cheeks. Time to get it together. Smile. When Shizuka walks through this door, greet her as if everything’s fine. Even though I’m pissed she stood me up this morning, good girlfriends don’t nag. I read that somewhere, and I’m determined to be a good girlfriend.

Romantic advice! Why didn’t I think of that earlier? If I’m not smart enough, I’ll ask someone smarter.

⁂

Deep breath in. Game face on. Walk in there like you belong, and no one will question you. I’m wearing the most mature outfit I own. I easily pass for an adult. My biggest worry shouldn’t be getting caught, but that the ladies in there will hit on me.

With all the confidence and grace of an adult, I open the alleway door and step into the lesbian bar. It’s mostly empty. Well, I guess it is still early in the evening. The bartender is a slender woman in a sharp red vest, her black hair tied up in a ponytail. She looks up to welcome me.

“Sorry, kid, we don’t serve minors here.”

Busted, immediately. “How could you tell?”

The bartender smirks. “It’s written all over your face.”

She nods toward the door, a clear signal to leave, but I’m frozen in place. “I need advice about… loving girls.”

“Then why’d you come here of all places?” She doesn’t seem angry, or upset, nor does she tell me to leave again.

“Where else am I supposed to go?”

Her smirk deepens, and she motions me closer. “Been reading too many old manga? There are better places for advice these days.” Reaching under the bar, she hands me a pamphlet. “They’ve got volunteer counselors who specialize in helping girls your age.”

“Thank you.” I turn the pamphlet over and note the address. Not far from school, actually. I’m about to leave, but curiosity takes over. “Why do you have this?”

The bartender glances at the patrons across the room and leans close. “Once upon a time, I did exactly what you’re doing now. When I opened this place, I figured I might get a chance to pay it forward to a few confused kids.”

“I see. And how many have you helped?”

“Just you.” She points with her thumb at one of the other patrons. “Now get out of here before that off-duty cop decides to fine me for allowing a minor on the premises.”

⁂

This is a mistake. The “counselor” at this place is a college student with short green hair and like a million ear piercings. She’s scary. I’d rather talk to the bartender, but I have no other choice.

Not that she’s been helpful so far. We’ve been in this tiny office for fifteen minutes and all she’s done is spout the usual crap about self-esteem that seems to be everywhere these days.

“Do you really like girls the same way I like girls?” I ask.

The woman chuckles in response. “I could ask you the same question.”

“What does that mean?”

The woman leans back in her chair and looks up at the ceiling. “It’s not good to judge someone by appearances. You never can tell what they’re keeping locked inside, but the way you talk is too innocent. I don’t think you really understand what love is yet.”

“I… don’t.” Admitting it is hard. I’ve never admitted it to anyone, and now I’m telling a complete stranger. “I just know that when I see Shizuka, my heart beats harder. I want to be with her, and not just as a friend. I want to go on dates.”

“Just dates? But you can do that as friends.”

I glare at her, but she’s still looking away, so she doesn’t notice. Or maybe she’s pretending not to notice. Talking about this is difficult. Maybe this is her way of showing kindness, by goading me into it.

“I want us to hold hands when we’re together, and when we’re alone, I want her to kiss me.”

“That’s all?”

“I want to kiss her, too.”

She nods. “If you’ve got that much figured out, I don’t think you really need my help. Unless… how does she feel about it?”

The answer slips out before I can think about it. “She loves me, I know she does, but she won’t admit it.”

“Hmm, that’s a toughie.” She places her hand on her chin. “Not everyone is ready to own up to a same-sex attraction. Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“No. That would mean confessing first, and I want to be the… girl in the relationship.”

For some reason, that gets her attention. She sits up straight and looks me in the eyes. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘bottom.’”

I can’t help but giggle at how silly that sounds. “Really?”

“Not everyone likes to think about it that way, but ‘top,’ ‘bottom,’ and ‘switch’ are the most common terms when it comes to describing lesbian relationships. Even so, there’s no rule that you can’t be the one to confess. Girls confess to boys all the time, you know.”

They do? “If you say so. But I want to be the one confessed to. It’s been my dream ever since I was a little girl reading my first shoujo manga.”

“Just think it over. Nothing in life is ever perfect. Is it really worth holding on to a childhood dream if it means your first love never comes to be?”

As much as I hate to admit it, the scary woman has a point. “Thank you. I’ll seriously consider it.”

Standing, she opens the door for me, and I walk out into the lobby. I don’t want to linger. Even though I don’t care if I’m recognized here, if I run into any of the girls from school, they might feel awkward.

As luck would have it, there is a girl wearing our uniform in the lobby. A very tall girl.

“Shizuka?”

She looks up, and her eyes go as wide as mine. It’s all I can do to stop from wincing as she jumps up so fast that her head almost hits the ceiling.

What is she doing here? Does that mean she really does understand that she likes me? No, if that were the case, she surely would have confessed by now. She must know she likes girls, but doesn’t realize she’s down bad for me.

Ms. Piercings is right. If I let this misunderstanding fester, she could slip through my fingers and end up with someone else. I have to tell her, and I can’t waste another minute. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself.

“Shizuka…”