Boyfriends with Girlfriends (7 page)

“Me too,” Allie said, plugging in her iPod and handing it to Kimiko. “Here, you want to choose something? What do you like? I’ve got lots of J-pop.”

“I’m not really a big J-pop fan,” Kimiko said, but she saw that Allie had a lot of sixties rock and roll, which Kimiko liked. As they drove along, she picked out a Beatles playlist, and when Allie began to sing along, Kimiko joined her, rolling down the window to catch the breeze. The air was crisp; the sun was warm. It all felt perfect.

When they arrived, the convention was already packed with fans, a lot of them wearing elaborate, wild cosplay costumes.

“That’s so rad,” Allie whispered about a guy with bright yellow foam rubber hair that stood about two feet off his head, streaming out in all directions.

They meandered through the live action role-play area, took turns at a Sailor Moon video game, and listened to a panel about boys’ love. All the while, Kimiko giggled along with Allie. It seemed like ever since they’d first met, they were both giggling constantly.

“Hey, Allie!” a group of girls called as they were leaving the boys’ love session.

“Hi, guys,” Allie waved and turned to Kimiko. “These are my friends from our manga club.”

“’Sup?” Kimiko said, feeling suddenly out of place as Allie talked and joked with the group. Even though they seemed nice, they were all WASPy girlie girls.

“Would you rather hang out with them?” Kimiko whispered to Allie as the group left. “If you do, I understand.”

“No. I see them all the time. I’d rather hang out with you.”

“Really?” Kimiko replied with a smile. “Cool.”

They next watched an anime film, managing to get the last two seats together in the warm, packed room. The minty scent of Allie’s lip gloss wafted across the darkness, and Kimiko breathed it in.

After the movie, they wandered to the merchandise area and flipped through mangas. Allie picked up copies
of
Tokyo Mew Mew
and
Instant Teen: Just Add Nuts.
When they got to the girls’ love section, she asked, “Which do you like?”

“
Revo Girl Utena
is good,” Kimiko said, “but wicked surreal.
Read or Dream
is also good, though my fave is
Girl Panic.
” She handed Allie the first installment and watched her expression as she scanned the pages.

“It looks fun,” Allie said, nodding approval.

“I’ll get it for you,” Kimiko offered.

“All right.” Allie giggled. “But then I get to treat for eats.”

They paid for their mangas, got some frozen yogurt, and sat down on a patch of carpet at the edge of the crowded convention hallway.

“I’m so happy you came,” Allie said. “This is such a blast. Chip isn’t into manga.”

Chip?
Kimiko wondered.
Oh, yeah. The Boyfriend.

“He’s a wonderful guy,” Allie continued. “I like him a lot, but . . .” She chewed on her lip for a moment, debating if she should confide her recent doubts. “I’m not sure where our relationship is going. I don’t feel the same connection anymore. You know what I mean?”

“Are you breaking up?” Kimiko asked, a little surprised. She felt flattered that Allie was opening up to her so much, considering they barely knew each other.

“It’s not to the point of breaking up yet. But I wonder if that’s where it’s headed.” She was glad she’d decided to talk about it to Kimiko—somebody who was impartial and didn’t go to her school.

“Have you talked with him about it?” Kimiko asked.

“Not yet. I’m still trying to figure out what to say. I don’t want to hurt him. . . .” She gave Kimiko a questioning glance. “Any ideas?”

Me?
Kimiko thought. “Sorry, dude. I have like zero experience with relationships. I guess just be honest with him.”

“Yeah, that’s what Lance says.”

They sat quietly, eating their yogurt, watching the crowd. And a question that Allie had been curious about drifted into her mind.

“Can I ask you something? How did you realize that you liked girls? I mean—you know—as more than just friends?”

Kimiko stared at her, caught off guard, and recalled Sergio’s teasing about Allie being “bi-curious.”

“Well . . .” Kimiko stirred her spoon in her yogurt, deciding where to start. “I always felt different from other girls. At first I thought it was because I’m Asian, but then . . . I remember this party in like sixth grade when we played Eleven in Heaven? You know that game where some random boy and girl go into a closet for eleven seconds, supposedly to kiss, while the people outside count down?”

Allie nodded, remembering her own experiences with middle school parties.

“Well, when I got inside,” Kimiko continued, “I realized there was no way I wanted to kiss a boy. So I told him that I had mono. Of course I didn’t, really. And I
buried my face in the clothes rack, although I felt kind of bad for him.”

The story was so different from Allie’s experience: She’d wanted to kiss boys since she could remember and, despite her doubts about Chip, she still thought guys were hot.

“After that,” Kimiko continued, “one day I saw these two women on a motorcycle. Actually, I wrote a poem about it. Poetry is like my über-passion. . . .” She thought carefully for a moment about the impulse she was feeling. “Would you like to hear it?” It amazed her that she’d asked, considering she hardly knew Allie.

“Like,
yeah
!” Allie replied excitedly. “I love poems.”

“Really? Okay . . .” Kimiko chewed nervously on her yogurt spoon, hoping she’d be able to remember the lines without screwing up. “It’s called ‘To the Two Women on a Harley at the Intersection of Twelfth and Independence.’”

“I like the title,” Allie said, smiling with encouragement.

Kimiko took a breath, collecting her thoughts, and began:

“It’s the morning of my twelfth birthday and Mom has taken me shopping downtown.

While waiting to cross the street, we notice two women stopped on a motorcycle,

engine throttling. The woman seated in front turns and

kisses the woman behind her.

On the lips.

I’m aware of my mom beside me, shifting her feet from one to the other,

clutching my hand.

Our eyes are glued to the women and I hear an ‘Ah!’ of understanding.

It’s my mom’s voice, soft and low—except it escapes from my mouth, from
me
.

Mom and I, we’re spinning off the curb, realizing: You, Kimiko, you’re one of
them
.

I try to stop the feeling of floating into the hot blue sky.

How has this happened? What has made me one of them?

I glance down at my boy’s jeans and flannel shirt.

The sun slips behind a cloud and appears again.

The traffic light changes, the Harley roars away.

Nothing so weird has ever happened to me, and nothing more weird could ever happen.

Mom lets go of my hand and tells me,

‘Be careful, promise?’”

Kimiko let out a breath, relieved that she’d actually made it through the poem without messing up. She stared at Allie, waiting for her reaction.

“Wow,” Allie said softly. “You write beautifully.”

“Thanks,” Kimiko said, proud but turning red. “So
anyway . . . You asked me how I knew I liked girls. I think seeing those two women helped me figure out that’s what I wanted: to one day be in love with a girl.” She grinned awkwardly. “And have a motorcycle.”

Allie thought about Jenny’s boyfriend, Jack, who had a motorbike. Then she thought about something else: “I had a sex dream about a girl once.”

Kimiko stared at her, even more astounded than before. “You did?”

“Only once,” Allie clarified, suddenly nervous. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you: Do you think some people are truly bi? Lance doesn’t. He thinks bi is kind of a copout. He says people are born either gay or straight. What do you think?”

“Well . . .” Kimiko paused and watched the crowd passing by. “Did you ever hear of this famous doctor-dude named Kinsey? He did research on like hundreds of people back in the fifties. And he found that some people are super-straight, some are über-homo, and most people are actually somewhere in between.”

Allie shifted on the carpet. “So does that dream mean
I’m
in between?”

“I don’t know. . . .” Kimiko tugged at the collar of her borrowed cowboy shirt, feeling warm, in spite of the frozen yogurt. “Maybe you should talk to Sergio. He’s the bi expert, not me.”

Allie glanced down at the
Girl Panic
manga that Kimiko had bought her. She was glad that they’d talked about this stuff, but it felt like they’d gone far enough for now.

“So, what’s your favorite anime?” she asked, switching topics.

They talked for a while longer about anime characters and plots, Miyazaki movies, the GSA club at school, and other stuff, until Allie realized she needed to go.

“It’s date night,” she said, pulling her compact out. “You’re so lucky you can get away without wearing makeup. I’d look like a pancake.”

“Dude, I doubt that.” Kimiko couldn’t imagine Allie looking anything like a pancake.

On the ride back to Kimiko’s, they sang along to some Mamas and the Papas songs.

“I had a really great time today,” Kimiko said when they got to her house.

“Me too,” Allie said, smiling across the car as if she didn’t want to leave. “Let’s talk again soon, okay? Oh, here!” She grabbed the daisy from the little dashboard vase and held it out to Kimiko. “I’d like you to have it.”

“Thanks,” Kimiko said. She tried to make her heart slow down as she took the flower and opened the door.

And as she watched Allie drive away, she thought about what Sergio had said. Had that been a date? It had almost felt like one.

A
fter dropping Kimiko off, Allie phoned Lance, knowing he’d probably be nervous before his date with Sergio. “Hey, babe. How’s it going?”

“I’m a wreck,” he said, pulling a shirt on. “I just found a gray hair. How can I be getting gray hair already?”

“Where was it?” Allie asked, holding back a giggle.

“On my head, where else?” He stepped into a pair of freshly laundered jeans. “Oh, yeah.” He laughed. “No, it was on my head. So, how did it go with Kimiko?”

“Super! She gave me this girls’ love manga and recited an amazing poem she wrote. Oh my god, you’ve got to hear it! And I told her about that girl dream I had once. Remember that?”

“Yeah.” Lance stepped into a pair of loafers without socks. “How did
that
come up?”

“Well, I remembered it the other day, and it was really easy talking with her, and I wanted to get her take on it. She told me about this doctor named Kinsey who said that most people are somewhere in between gay and straight. . . .”

While Lance listened, his mind wandered to Sergio. He knew he needed to talk more with him about the bi thing. He tugged at his belt, uneasy at the prospect.

“. . . And I told her about Chip,” Allie continued. “Like you, she told me I should be honest with him. But I’m still trying to figure out how I feel and what to say. Maybe I should suggest we take a break while I figure things out. What do you think?”

“That sounds good, I guess.” Lance checked himself in the mirror one last time. “I wish I could be more help on what to say but I don’t know.”

“That’s all right,” Allie said. “I’ll be okay. Have fun with Sergio! I want a full report.”

“Thanks, and you with Chip,” Lance told her. After hanging up, he raced downstairs, where he yelled to his parents: “I’m going to wait outside!”

“I want to meet him before you leave,” his mom called after Lance. She seemed nearly as excited about his date as he was.

He let his dog out with him and sat down on the front steps, humming to himself, too anxious to wait inside.