“I THINK WE need to talk.”

Blood roars in Maya Arora’s ears and she is soon drowning in a place where nothing exists. She is only thinking about all the possible outcomes this could have. Things will change after this talk; she is sure of it.

Everything has a damned consequence but Maya isn’t ready to deal with it. Not yet, no. Possibly never. She knows what moment she wants to erase from their history. The moment she kissed Estela.

“We shouldn’t talk now,” Maya says as she brushes her hair out of her eye. Estela’s eyes follow her direction and for a moment—a tiny moment—Maya thinks that Estela is staring at her in that way. But no, that isn’t possibly. Estela is straight, isn’t she? She has never talked about girls.

But then, so hasn’t Maya.

No, Maya, stop. Don’t follow that line of thought, she tells herself, shaking her head.

“Why not?” Estela questions, gaze ever so persistent on her. Maya swallows before letting out a small sigh.

“You know why. I have a lecture, in like fifteen minutes and I still haven’t showered. Don’t you have a class to attend as well?” she questions. Estela raises her eyebrow in amusement. She looks ready to laugh in really, you are going down that lane? Because both of them know that Maya doesn’t give a fuck about lectures. Never has and most probably never will.

“To quote you, “Lectures are a waste of time. I teach myself everything, anyway. I only attend because I need attendance,”” She imitates her voice and Maya is once again blow by how perfectly Estela can mimic someone. It’s one of her many talents she didn’t pursue. Maya remembers asking why not and Estela’s reply had been clear not all hobbies can be monetized.

It is one of those that has stuck with her. She always gives this excuse when someone asks her why she doesn’t dive into the art field—truth is, Maya doesn’t like delving into the unknown.

“Okay but I still need that attendance. I already bunked a lot of lectures. Can’t afford to miss more,” she says and she is speaking the truth, in some ways at least. Maya can still skip three more lectures—yes, she calculated—and still maintain her seventy percent attendance.

“Maya, don’t,” Estela says quietly and there is a hint of pleading in her voice that stops Maya from further arguing. She tries to calm her erratic heart beat and discreetly wipes her clammy hands on the back of her pajama bottoms. “If we avoid it, tiptoe around it, it may widen the gap between us. I don’t want that.”

Maya sits down because suddenly, she realizes that there is already an invisible gap between them—of hidden secrets—and she doesn’t want that. She needs to feel close to her one true friend so when she sits down, she makes sure their knees brush lightly. She wants to know Estela is here and will always be. No matter what color Maya’s heart is.

Maya wants to know that Estela will love her in rainbows even if it’s a love different from hers.

“Okay,” she agrees.

Estela bites her lip and she wishes the girl would stop. It’s a habit that always distracts her, drawing her attention to something that Maya should have never noticed.

“I am not asking you to come out if you feel uncomfortable,” Estela begins hesitantly.

“Let’s be frank, Ella,” Maya cuts in, “I already outed myself,” she jokes, trying to hide the fact that this tension was sleeping under her skin.

Estela laughs and it puts Maya to ease—at least on some level. She quiets down, fiddling with her fingers. “So, are you, like, lesbian? Or do you think you are bisexual or pansexual?”

This is the exact question Maya has been dreading. This is a question that haunts her, at random times of the day. She’ll look over at a guy, feel mildly attracted to him and cue overthinking her sexuality. It has happened so many times Maya has lost count.

Maya clenches her fists. Before she answers, she unclenches them. “I don’t know. I think I am bi but I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Maya responds meekly.

“I read up on sexualities last night,” Estela starts, eliciting a laugh from Maya. Of course, Estela researched even when she was mildly drunk. “Anyway, sexualities are fluid. They can change overtime. And some people never figure out who they are.”

Maya’s smile drops.

“I think what I am trying to get at is, kissing you,” Estela says, taking a pause. Maya’s breath stops for a moment. Oh, the girl is mentioning the K word and ever so casually. “It made me realize that I don’t know if I am straight or not. It messed up with the firm belief that I had that I am straight, or maybe was.”

Maya does not know what to think. Even in all her reams about different outcomes, the possibility that anything—even mildly anything—could happen between them had never occurred to her. Her thoughts are all jumbled up and she tries to grab hold of one coherent thought but it’s elusive.

She had believed herself to be straight throughout seventeen years of her life and no one knows better than her how it feels like to have an identity crisis.

Maya sympthasizes with the other girl.

“Aside from the whole thing that you said you like me,” Estela says, looking up to meet her eyes and Maya hates that Estela is so open. It makes her feel weak and seen and she doesn’t like it. “I want to figure things out. About me, about you and about this friendship.”

Okay, Maya never thought words could hurt this badly. But she feels someone is twisting a knife in her chest. There’s a stinging pain that makes her incoherent thoughts black out.

“I need some space.”

Maya has never dated anyone but she feels like breakups don’t even come any close to friendship breakups. She isn’t sure if it’s a break up to be honest but it sure as hell feels like one.

———

only 3 more chapters to go eeek!! i really love this story because it's short and very important to me as a writer.

what are your thoughts?

also, i hope y'all are staying safe x don't be stupid and wear masks!