Two weeks have passed in the blink of an eye. Those fourteen days have felt slow yet fast, strange yet exciting, and I realize suddenly that I am experiencing a time in my life I have never known before. Now, when Aurora and I walk home, sometimes I can convince her to hold my hand, and sometimes I catch her smiling at me at lunch. I never knew quite until this moment how much having someone who likes you back could change your whole worldview. 

My friends seem to notice a change in my behavior, though they can't attribute it to much of anything. When they do question my good attitude, I reply that it must be the good grades. They all groan at that statement, though I find it funny that it is still easy to convince them that my happiness derives from my GPA.

When I'm not with my friends, I do my best to scour out Aurora. We still have Calculus together, but when we see each other in the halls, I stop her and say hi nowadays. Sometimes, at lunch, I'll linger by her friend group and greet everyone. I've even sat with her friend group two more times when all my friends inevitably had something else planned at lunch.

Now that I know Aurora likes me, I can't seem to get enough of her, and unfortunately, the time we do get together is far and few in between. We're both busy with school, and we've had no time to go on a proper date. Instead, we continue to study and walk home together, like we've always done. Rarely does Aurora let me do anything in public, so for the most part, it sometimes feels like nothing has changed, even though everything has changed, which frustrates me even more.

Though being with Aurora has made my world a little brighter, I suddenly am becoming aware of how much judgment and opposition I may face in this relationship. Not that I think anyone would come and spit in my face at school, but I'm starting to notice how outcast the lesbians that sit in the corner are, shunned away from their peers for being "strange." I start to imagine what my friends would think if I tell them the truth one day. I wonder how many of them would be weirded out, disgusted at the thought that maybe I had crushes on them or that I was eyeing them while they changed at our sleepovers.

The thought pisses me off. But I can't say they won't react that way. Because now, Allison's comments about how the lesbians should just learn to wear skirts like the rest of the girls pisses me off.

"Come on, Allison. Let's move on from this subject," I murmur. It's a quiet comment. Something that still gets the point across, but doesn't suggest I am one of the them.

Allison seems confused at my retaliation. Yes, when my internalized homophobia was deep, I used to laugh at these comments and agree, as most of my friend group, and the entire school, usually does.

"I was just saying," Allison retorts.

"Come on, do we really have to talk like that? We're going to be seniors soon. This is freshman gossip," I say. The rest of my friend group has gone quiet. Most of us are moderately liberal, Allison leaning more toward the conservative side, but no one has ever seen me speak out at one of her morally questionable comments before.  "I'm not hungry. I'm going to get some homework done," I say as I get up and leave.

"Jeez, you don't have to get so offended for them," Allison murmurs as I walk away.

Don't you get it? I am one of them, I think.

Fifteen minutes later, Abigail finds me in the library, staring at me confusedly. She pulls out the seat across from me and sits down, with her hands raised in a confused glance.

"What was that about?" she whispers.

"I just don't think Allison's homophobic comments should slide anymore. Or any of her questionable comments really," I murmur. "I...find myself getting more pissed off at her these days. It's hard to explain why. She just...rubs me the wrong way."

"Well, now everyone's worried about you and her and what this means for our friend group," Abigail states.

I want to tell her that it's not my responsibility to keep this friend group together, even if what connects us is the fact that everyone originally knew me. A part of me just wants to tell Abigail everything, because out of everyone, I know she's the one I can trust the most, and she already senses something is going on. But instead, I just comply.

"Look, I'll be all happy tomorrow and act like nothing happened, okay? Just let me get some homework done."

"You were walking on cloud nine earlier this week. Now you're upset again. If something's going on, you can tell me. You know that, right?" Abigail says.

"I know that," I say, even though I keep my mouth shut as she walks away. Yes, these past two weeks have been amazing, and yet, as time passes, I grow more and more afraid of the future, even if Aurora will be by side. And even then, the reminder that Aurora is graduating this semester hits me at odd intervals during the day and always seems to bring me down.

I act like nothing has happened when Aurora and I walk home that afternoon. In fact, I am overjoyed to see her after a day of being annoyed with my current group of friends. I excitedly talk to her about my day and ask about hers.

"We should eat lunch together sometime," I say.

"We already do that sometimes," Aurora says, giggling.

"No, I mean...just the two of us," I explain.

I watch Aurora's face turn to a frown. Why did I have a feeling she wouldn't like this idea? Why do I have a feeling I'll already know her reasoning for it?

"I don't know, Callie. That might paint a picture for the rest of the school," Aurora murmurs worriedly.

"Right," I say disappointedly. "I just thought since we're dating and all..."

"When did we say we were dating?" Aurora asks, confused.

"Well, um, I'm not sure how to explain this to you, but normally when two people who like each other kiss and do things like walk home together, they date," I state.

"I know what you mean," Aurora grumbles. "I just..." I watch as she nervously puts a finger through her one of her red curls and twirls it. "I think it's best we keep things private for now. Dating is a public thing, but we're not out."

"But...but we still do couple things," I argue.

"Yes, I know that, but...I don't know if I'm ready to call you my girlfriend yet."

"Will you?" I ask, feeling angry suddenly. "Because if not, then...then what am I doing? Just wasting my time?"

Aurora seems to notice my frustration as she throws her hands up in surprise. "That's not what I meant, sorry! Of course, one day, when we're both out, then of course we can date officially. But for now, with me finishing my last semester, and with the general environment of the school, I just don't know if I'm ready for that yet. But I still want to be with you, Callie, I swear. I just can't commit to that publicly, and I don't want to say we're dating until we can do so officially."

I understand where she's coming from, of course, and even if I'm frustrated, even if I desperately want to call her my girlfriend, I merely let my head drop and sigh in agreement. Aurora has made no suggestion that she doesn't want to be near me anymore, that she doesn't want to stop kissing me and doing couple things together, but...at the same time, I have no idea what to call her. My girlfriend-but-not? My "friend with benefits," but those benefits being Calculus tutoring? An experiment?

"I'm not ready to tell anyone yet, Callie. Are you?" Aurora asks when I remain silent.

"No," I finally admit, not after what happened today. "No, I'm not."

"Then it's probably wise we don't get too crazy just yet," Aurora says.

A part of me wants to speak up and ask her when she truly does want to date officially, then. Because come August of this year, she's going to leave, and I'm still going to be at St. Joseph's. There's no telling how well long-distance relationships will work in college, especially when we are not even officially in a relationship. I try to ignore these thoughts though and just focus on the moment.

Aurora and I split our ways at the corner, and I head home. Hopefully, the day when I can confidently call her my girlfriend will be soon. That's what I think, until at dinner my mom brings up one of her colleagues.

"Oh, she was a mess at work today because her son came out as gay. I can't blame the poor woman. I don't think I'd be able to handle that shock either," she relates to my father as we eat.

I sit quietly, feeling suddenly worse about myself. I don't eat much afterward, and when I do finally head upstairs to sleep, I bring Fry in with me so I can pet him for comfort as I worriedly think about what will happen in the future.