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Phillip, look at me, I'm a stamp!
Join Date: Jul 2007
Location: Portsmouth, UK
I am currently:  
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Wuddup. Basically, I had this whole idea in my head when I first started the story. Today, I re-read the whole story and realised how bollocks it actually was (honestly, why did you read all of this?) I'm now throwing it in a WHOLE new direction! So enjoy.
Chapter Twenty-Six
On the last evening of my weekend visit, my mother insisted on inviting Katie round for dinner. She also mentioned my friend Joe would be popping in later on in the evening for an hour or two. Joe. I hadn’t seen Joe for several years. He was the son of my mum’s best friend and we had been pretty close when we were younger, obsessed with Pokémon, we had traded cards and had battles on our Gameboys. I wondered if he still had his goofy buck-toothed smile and twig-thin arms. I asked my mum, but she didn’t really answer; just gave me a quick grin and toddled off to start dinner.
A couple of hours later, Katie turned up on my doorstep with a smile, a hug and a DVD. “Mean Girls,” she smirked. “No matter how depressed you are, there’s no way you can not be happy after Mean Girls.” I moved back to let her in and she threw herself on the sofa; our house a second home to her. “Cup of tea would be great, Mrs Thompson!” she called through to the kitchen. My mother happily obliged and I felt a pang of envy. She had always treated Katie somewhat better than me. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she wished I was more like Katie and less like the failure I was.
Katie dropped the DVD case on the floor and pushed it over towards the TV with her foot, beckoning me to put it into the DVD player. I smiled, happy with the fact she hadn’t changed and didn’t treat me any different to the Keira I was before all of this happened. I put the disc in and after the main menu appeared, pressed play and happily accepted the bowl of popcorn my mother brought through for us. Calories. Fat. I ignored it and chewed quickly, focusing on the hilariously stereotypical antics of American teenage girls. FAT. As we watched, a scene where the ‘Queen Bee’ of the mean girls is given ‘diet’ bars which secretly make her gain weight, Katie nudged me and said “I should be giving you some of those.” Somehow, I laughed. I kept laughing, genuinely enjoying the irony and realising no humour is lost on my best friend.
The credits rolled and I sat down at the table with Katie and my mother for dinner. My dad and brother still at James’ football practice for the next few hours. “I’m sure they can heat it up later,” said mum, picking up her knife and fork and tucking in, Katie quickly following suit. I looked at my plate, a familiar dread, an old friend creeping up from my stomach to my throat. I took several deep breaths. Don’t do it. Realising Katie had noticed, I quickly picked up my fork and started eating. She was satisfied and looked away. I on the other hand, was not satisfied. I felt sick. What are you doing?! I carried on. I carried on until every single piece of food had disappeared. Disgusting.
For the next twenty minutes until Katie was picked up to go home, I clutched my stomach, rocked back and forth, paced the living room, spoke quickly, wiped sweaty hands through the knots in my hair. “You’re doing okay you know,” Katie said, her softened eyes staring at me. I nodded. I sat down. I waited. Her mother would be here any minute. Tick tock. Tick tock. I practically jumped out of my seat as I heard the car pull up outside and hugged Katie tightly. She called goodbye to my mother and kissed me on the cheek, settling herself into the passenger seat in the car, she waved as her mum drove them both away. I clicked the door closed and looked at the time on the clock. There was still time. Tick tock. Tick tock. Too much time wasted. You’d better be quick.
“I’m running a bath, mum!” I called through. She agreed, naďve to my thoughts and I bounded up the stairs to the bathroom, two, three steps at a time. Closing the door, I turned the taps on full blast and took my familiar, comfortable place next to the toilet. I lifted the lid up, slowly, quietly and stared at my reflection in the water. Good girl, Keira. They can’t catch you here. Before I could even try and get rid of the food I had consumed, my stomach convulsed, as if in desperation and the dinner I had eaten that had made my mother so proud of me fell into the water, disappointment and shame splashed back. Our little secret. Good girl. I was disgusted with myself, but still I continued; retching; purging; flushing; retching; purging; flushing. Have a little water. Start again. My bath was full by the time my stomach could not give back anymore. I flushed one last time and peeled my clothes off, stepping into the scorching hot water and lying down. The pain was soothing. Before long, I had to get out. Wrapping the towel around me, I descended the stairs into the living room. Sitting on my sofa was who I assumed to be Joe. He stood up and smiled; braces obviously having fixed his crooked smile. Muscles pushed through his shirt and looking at him made me feel fuzzy
“Hi, Kiera. I’d give you a hug, but…” he looked at me in my towel and I could feel my cheeks flushing bright red. “James let me in.” I turned round and could see James and my parents in the kitchen, obviously wanting to give us some kind of privacy, their quick glances failing to be unnoticed.
“Uh, I’ll go and get changed. You could probably follow me up in a few minutes, I think their idea of privacy isn’t what it should be.” I shot a look towards the kitchen and Joe smiled. “Although, not that we should need any privacy,” I quickly added. I wanted him to know exactly where he stood for now. He nodded his acceptance and I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, throwing on an oversized jumper and a pair of shorts.
Several minutes later, he knocked on my bedroom door and I opened it, closing it behind him as he came in. “You haven’t changed one bit,” he said and I laughed. “You haven’t stayed the same one bit.” I poked his arms and he flexed, giggling. “I take that back,” I said. “You still laugh like a little girl.”
He crossed his arms in dramatic fashion and we continued to talk about the past, avoiding the present completely, but briefly discussing the future. I still had the fuzzy feeling in my tummy every time I looked at him or he laughed. The only other person I’d felt the fuzzy feeling for was Naomi. I didn’t get it. No. This was different, surely. I was gay, wasn’t I? I had never liked boys before. Come to think of it, I had never liked girls before I’d met Naomi. I snapped out of my daydream and realised Joe wasn’t speaking anymore. He was staring at me. The fuzzy feeling grew stronger. “You’ve always been really pretty, you know that?” I blushed and slowly tried to move away.
Before I could get far, he leaned in closer and placed his lips gently against mine. I was going to pull away, imagines of Naomi in my mind, our first night together, our kisses, our notes, the love I felt. It was all past tense now. I was going to pull away from Joe, before I realised I liked it. I felt wanted. I clung to him, hoping he wouldn’t let go. This was my present now.
But I was gay, wasn’t I?
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