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The Things I Wrote
By Jennifer Leigh Kiefer
In sixth grade, you stopped me in the hall by our lockers. You had noticed I was reading a book you liked. I was new to the school; you were my first friend.
By seventh grade we had a friend group that was inseparable. Bonded by books, bonded by the written word. We spent our time writing stories and acting out the ones we read in the woods by your house. Out there we could do and be anything. We would climb the trees like cats or fly out of them like birds. Those woods were a whole world to us then. You were so wonderfully adventurous, always convincing us to climb another tree, dream a little bigger. And when I climbed too high, you talked me down, helped me find my way back to solid ground and then we'd race back to your room with the big white bookcases, and you'd tell me your newest idea or show me the strawberry lip gloss you wanted to wear for your first kiss.
And by eighth grade, boys were lining up, without even knowing it was strawberry lip gloss they wanted to taste. While I was hopeless at flirting, you knew just what to say. Plus, you always were the prettiest of us. You'd flip your hair, figure out how to swish your hips when you walked? you didn't need to turn around to know they were right behind you. We acted out stories less and less, but we still would fight for the main character when we did. Even though it should have been clear to me who the main character in the story of our friendship was. I would have followed you anywhere. Of course, I was your sidekick. At lunch our group expanded to include the guys who always fought to sit on either side of you. But that was okay, I sat directly across, the perfect spot to share a smile, or an inside joke, when the boys lost your attention. At the end of the school year, we spent a whole day racing around a theme park, no adults to slow us down. We imagined what high school would be like. We could never have been more wrong.
Instead of freedom we found our lives crowded by harder classes, more activities, and less time to visit the woods and our world away from all the stress. I could no longer keep track of all the boys following you, but maybe there weren't nearly as many as I remembered. It took me nine years to figure out why they even bothered me so much and I'm not so sure I trust my hormonal teenage memories. But to me it seemed like they were always there. Even during the one class where there shouldn't have been any, you found ways to go find them. I thought that was supposed to be our time. I worried our time would disappear entirely.
I don't remember what precisely started our fight.
I don't remember what caused me to write that letter.
But I remember that I cried as I wrote it. I remember one of our friends warning me not to give it to you And I remember not listening.
However, for all the words I wrote about feelings in that letter, it has taken nine years to come to terms with what I was really feeling. It seems so obvious now. It's crazy to think it took another six years to figure out that I liked girls. And it wasn't until a date with a girl a couple years later that I really figured out that I always had. I don't remember her name, but she told me about how she realized she had grown up with a crush on Meg from Hercules Since that conversation, I've seen movies I've loved as long as I can remember in a new light. I didn't only have crushes on Disney princesses though. I've been slowly rewriting my memories from before as well.
Do you remember when we pretended that we were our favorite characters from our favorite book series? I got to be the main character in that one and you played my love interest. We worked together to save the world against the villains we made up in the woods. Inevitably I would get hurt or captured and you would come to save me, playing the hero just like the hero you had become to me when you talked to me in the hall that day in sixth grade.
For a couple wonderful years, you played my love interest out there in the woods, until out in the real world, you found love interests of your own. In the real world I wasn't the main character, but while it took me many years to realize, you were still my love interest.
In that letter I wrote that I hated your laugh. I wondered for many years why I wrote about something so trivial, so irrelevant. I didn't hate your laugh though. I hated that I was no longer the one making you laugh that way.
I hated that I didn't know how to leave the world we created, or that I didn't want to. I hated feeling left behind in those woods. No one to talk me out of the tree. No one to convince me to climb in the first place.
You moved away the summer after I wrote that letter. Before I could realize what I had done. Before I could apologize. Did you find new trees to climb by your new house? Do you still climb trees today? Do you create new worlds in those trees like we once did together? Do you ever put those worlds on a page?
I'm not as good at it now, but I'll still climb a tree here and there. And I often dream the day away. I've filled pages and pages since we last spoke?including pages and pages I've wanted to send to you.
But I've forever been haunted by the things I wrote. It took me nine years to understand myself, how could I ever ask the same of you?
You were the one that taught me to climb higher though, so I will ask anyway.
And you were the one that convinced me to take the risk and jump back down when I climbed too high, so?
You were the first girl I loved. I came out as pansexual last year, though I've always loved regardless of gender. I wish I would've known it then so I wouldn't have written those hateful things out of a jealousy I didn't understand. But I had a long journey of self-discovery to go through, one I wasn't ready to take when we were friends.
Earlier
?You are not to see those girls anymore. Do you understand, Genevieve? I will not have our family's reputation tainted by your behavior any longer. It is unacceptable. Your mother and I have had to clean up your mess and do damage control for the last time.?
Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The clock on my father's desk was the only noise in the room until the thrum of the air condition kicked on. It saved the wretched thing from being swept off the desk onto the floor. Its only purpose was to serve as an intimidation piece. It just grated on my nerves.
?Genesis.?
?Excuse me?? My father reared back in his leather chair and stared at me in confusion.
?I go by Genesis, not Genevieve.?
He stood and leaned across his desk. The vein at his temple throbbed as his face reddened. ?Enough!? He pointed at the door. ?Go to your room and don't come out until dinner is ready. The Millers will be here at seven with their son, Josiah. You will wear a dress, and you will act like a lady and behave yourself or so help me, I will freeze your trust fund and void the lease on your apartment. As a matter of fact, you are to stay here until further notice.?
The only thing missing was the bang of a gavel on his desk. His final word was law.
He sat back down and began typing on his computer, effectively dismissing me.
My younger brother stood by the door in the hall when I came out. My father wouldn't stop until he had a boy to carry on the family name, and now poor Jamie paid the price. ?Well, what did he say??
?I'm banished to my room until further notice.?
He followed me out the front door and to where I'd hidden my motorcycle behind the horse barn, afraid my father would see it and have it carted off.
?What are you going to do?? he asked as I put on my leather jacket and helmet.
I knew my brother would never betray me. He and I were as close as any siblings could ever be, with only one year separating us. ?I'm going to the apartment, pack my things, and then I'm going home to my girls.?
***Six months ago***
The event planner had outdone herself this time, and I had to admit the vineyard made a beautiful venue.
A soft, slow tune played over the speakers as the bride and groom danced their first dance. The song spoke of love and forever. They stared into each other's eyes and shared a kiss. I knew it was all for show.
I wanted the real version of that, but I'd resigned myself to being alone. My desires didn't conform to society's norms?nor my father's.
My parents had set me up on dates countless times. Men in all shapes, sizes, and colors lined up, jockeying to win the hand of the Williams' infamous wayward daughter?to be the one who tamed her.
What they didn't understand was men had the wrong parts. Maybe if my father had thrown a few of the elite females in there, I'd have been a little more agreeable. But the real problem was no one else understood the urge to share my heart with more than one person I'd tried to date, but each time I'd broached the subject of adding a third, they'd hit the door so fast I hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. So, I stopped.
I clapped with everyone else when the song ended. A new tune started, and the bride shared a dance with her father?our father?and the groom with his mother. The photographers snapped dozens of pictures, and everyone smiled and hammed it up for the cameras. I rolled my eyes. The next wedding would be grander because everyone wanted to outdo the other.
The designer chiffon bridesmaid dress mother had insisted the bridesmaids wear scraped against my skin, and I resisted the urge to hike it up and scratch. It wouldn't go over well. Father had already warned me to be on my best behavior.
I eyed the large table of appetizers and decided a drink was in order. My parents had spared no expense for this wedding. They had plenty of friends to impress, after all. As soon as I could escape, I would. It was not that I was opposed to weddings; it just brought to the forefront the reality that I was alone. I didn't even have a plus one; It wasn't allowed.
Plate and drink in hand, I searched for a table in the corner tucked away from everyone. Considering my sister was the bride, it would be in poor form for me just to leave, but I could hide away here until the chance came up to slip out.
?Excuse me. Would you like some champagne?? a soft feminine voice asked.
When I looked up, my breath stalled in my chest. Wisps of black hair framed a heart-shaped face and a pair of stunning blue eyes.
She left me speechless.
?Are you okay?? Her brows drew together in concern.
?Oh, uh, no.?
?You're not okay, or you don't want any champagne?? She pursed her lips as if trying not to smile.
?No champagne. Thank you.? I mentally shook my head. Leave it to me to sound like an idiot.
?Okay. I'll be back around in case you change your mind.? As cheesy as it sounded, her bright smile lit up the room. I had to know who she was.
?Wait! What's your name??
?Silva.? She gave a slight bow and another smile before turning to circulate the room with her tray.
I couldn't keep my eyes off her for the rest of the night.
As the guests thinned, so did my patience. Even though I'd picked the most obscure corner, men still came to my table and stopped to chat or ask for a dance. If my father got wind of my rudeness to some of them, he'd have my hide, but I didn't care.
For most of them, it was only a game. Who would be the one to break the wild child, to win her affections or just pop her cherry? I had news for them all. None. I wasn't interested in men. Never was, never would be, much to my father's dismay.
When I'd had enough and no longer spotted Silva, I plotted my escape. None of the guests even glanced at the kitchen. The help were beneath them. They didn't care where the food or service came from, only that it kept coming, so I waited until some of the wait staff came out with more trays and slipped through the door.
The tone in here eclipsed the one on the other side of the swinging doors. Dishes clanged, and silverware rattled People bustled around the kitchen, but it felt more festive with the cheerful banter and smiling faces than the frigid wedding outside. No one noticed me at first as a chef called out an order, and people hurried to do his bidding. They worked like a well-oiled machine but had fun doing it.
I spotted Silva whispering to another girl in the corner, heads pressed close together. Silva reached over and pushed the other girl's dark hair behind her ear in an intimate gesture. My heart sank. Of course, someone like Silva would have a girlfriend or lover.
As if she felt my eyes on her, she turned, and her face lit up. She whispered something to the other girl. She took her hand and led her over to where I stood frozen.
?Hey. Did you need something??
?Uh, no. Well, yes, I was looking for the exit.?
Silva laughed. ?Had enough already??
?You have no idea.?
?Well, our boss just told us things were winding down out there, so we can go if we want to. You're welcome to come with us. We were talking about heading to a new bar down on Fifth Street?
I looked down. ?I don't think I'm exactly dressed for a bar.?
Silva ran her eyes up and down my body in an almost physical caress, and I shivered. ?Actually, I think we're about the same size. I might have something you can wear in the car.?
?Okay.? I followed them to the parking lot.
Silva unlocked a red Jeep Wrangler. ?Oh, and this is Alejandra, my girlfriend.?
Alejandra winked a hazel eye at me. ?And you are???
A flush worked its way down my body from my head to my toes. Somehow, I knew my life was about to change.
?Genesis. I'm Genesis.?
***Two Hours Ago***
I ran my fingers through Silva's hair, loving the silky texture. Her head lay in my lap as we relaxed on the couch watching a mindless show and enjoyed each other's company.
Sundays were our rest days. Sometimes, I'd take each of them for a ride on my bike, but we usually hung around the house. Silva and Alejandra's boss allowed them to take every Sunday off unless he had some big event and needed their help, but that wasn't often. We'd use the day to lounge around and do nothing. Well, it usually ended up in the bedroom doing something. It was my favorite day of the week.
?Alejandra! Come lay down with us.?
?I'm coming.? She walked into the living room, arms ladened down with popcorn and beer. ?We needed snacks.? She set everything on the coffee table. Silva picked up her feet for Alejandra to sit down, then plopped them in her lap.
I leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Alejandra's lips. ?Thank you, baby.?
?Hey! What about me?? Silva poked out her lip in a pout.
I bent over and popped two quick kisses on her lips, causing her to laugh.
I'd never been happier in my life than when I was with them. We'd hit it off right away, and as some would say, it was meant to be. It hadn't taken long after the first night we met at the wedding to realize they were looking for a third, and I was looking for them.
Occasionally, we'd go out on a Saturday night to a nightclub or bar. People were always watching me, and I'd ended up on social media on more than one occasion; the rebellious daughter of the Williams tycoon seen out kissing and hugging two other girls. I'd even made the news once after punching a guy who thought we'd be into fulfilling one of his orgy fantasies. My father hadn't been happy. I couldn't care less.
The doorbell rang, and Alejandra jumped to her feet. ?I'll get it.?
I continued running my fingers over Silva's scalp. She hummed in approval, and a flush of heat went through me. Maybe I could talk them into hitting the bedroom a little earlier tonight.
?Uh, Genesis. There's someone here for you,? Alejandra called from the front door.
Silva sat up, and I walked to the foyer. Bruce, my father's driver, stood in the doorway, glaring at Alejandra.
He didn't waste time on pleasantries. ?Your father wants you at the house immediately.?
I sighed. Whatever it was this time, I'd rather get it over with and get back home. I had an apartment I hardly ever stayed at anymore. Alejandra and Silva already had a house when we'd started dating, and I'd rather be with them. Moving in was just a formality.
?Tell him I'll be there in an hour.?
?Your father has given me strict instructions, and I must insist you come with me.?
My temper flared. I was tired of being told what to do and who I should be. ?I don't give a shit about your instructions. I'll go, but on my terms.?
He huffed and turned, pulling out his phone before he'd even reached the bottom step, no doubt telling my father of my refusal to ride with him.
Silva wrapped her arms around me from behind. ?I don't like it, Genesis. Let one of us go with you.?
?No. I don't want either of you exposed to that toxic, dysfunctional mess. I'll go, see what he wants and be home before dinner.?
Alejandra wrung her hands. I pulled her to me. ?Hey, it'll be okay. I promise.?
?I'm just afraid this will be the one time you'll decide we're not worth the trouble.?
?Hey, now. Don't say that. I would give up the world for both of you. There's nowhere I'd rather be.?
***************
My father stood on the steps as I rode past the house, his red face and clenched fists a testament to his anger. I revved the engine and smiled It was time I lived my own life without the shadow of being the disobedient and headstrong Williams's daughter. I was going to live the way I wanted, and with whom I wanted, whether my father liked it or not. As I rounded the curve, I shot up my middle finger.
My name was Genesis, and I didn't ask for permission or forgiveness.
You owe me nothing, but if you remember the world in the woods like I do, if you remember the sleepovers, the snacks, the strawberry lip gloss, and if you remember all the books we read and words we wrote together with a fraction of the fondness I do? please forgive me for not appreciating a friendship I cherished so much more than I showed. Forgive me for all the things I got upset by with no explanation I knew how to give. Forgive me for all the things I wrote. Both in that letter and the apologies I have written and left unsent since.
Forgive me because I know I've made far too many mistakes, but even though I have grown a lot and learned a lot and changed so, so much? I'd still really love to visit that world in the woods one more time.
With love,
The girl who still misses your friendship nine years later.
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