I Ain't Gay! Chapter 6
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter Tanner walks with Mel to her house, and then to her room, where she tries to convince new new friend to try something a bit ... different.

=-=-=

I looked for Mel as I locked the front door, and saw how her long-legged walk had already given her a good head start on our trip to her house. I ran to catch up with her, keeping to the cool grass along the driveway because of my bare feet. "Shouldn't we have left a note?" I asked, raising my voice to be heard over the gravel crunching under my friend's sneakers.

Mel shook her head and said, "Nah, I sent Barry a text." I was about to ask her how she'd sent a text between wrapping up the clay and walking out the door, when muffled music started playing. Mel pulled a slim phone with a pink metal casing from her back pocket, then flipped it open Star Trek style. "It's from your uncle," she said as she studied the screen. "Looks like everything's good."

Just before she snapped the phone shut, I saw a message that said, "K U 2 B CRFL". Once I deciphered the textonese, I asked, "What's he want us to be careful of?"

We reached the end of the driveway, and my friend made a sharp left, leading the way along a sandy path. She pointed to her right at a multilane, divided highway and said, "Oh he's probably talking about that. It's quiet right now, but it can get pretty busy. Both he and my mom seem to think I might run out in traffic or something."

Even though I wasn't sure about what Mel had said, it explained the vague message better than anything I could come up with, so I decided to let it drop and ask something more important. "So what's this thing you want me to try?"

My friend slowed down until we were walking side by side, then said, "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

She had a small, secretive smile as she said, "It'd ruin the surprise."

Feeling a bit frustrated, I said, "Okay. Can you at least tell me why you want me to try it?"

Mel turned to our left. She seemed be searching for something in the pattern of light and shadow that shifted across the thick bed of dry needles on forest floor when the wind whispered through the tall trees. The breeze brought with it the sharp scent of pine resin, which almost hid the sting of tar, burnt rubber, and gas fumes from the road.

Eventually, my friend turned back to me and said, "It's just ... it's like there this huge thing that's right in front of you, but you don't seem to see it because you keep dodging around it."

My heels dug into the gritty sand when I froze in place and said, "This ain't about me being gay, is it?"

Mel turned and walked back to where I'd stopped, then picked up my hands and said, "If there's anybody who knows what it feels like for people to expect you to be interested in boys when you ain't, it's me. Whether you're gay, lesbian, bi, or straight is only something you can know. Not me. Not your parents. Not anybody else. Okay?"

For a moment, I was tempted to ask why she'd included lesbian, then decided to let it go and said, "Okay. So what is it you see me dodging around?"

Mel was quiet as a few cars roared by, then said, "I don't think it' s something I can tell you. It' s more something you need to experience."

"What kind of experience?"

My friend chewed on her bottom lip, then said, "It may feel a little weird, at least at first." She gave my hands a gentle squeeze as she said, "I promise, it won't be anything bad. It might even be something you like. All I ask is that you give it a try."

For a tiny moment, I wondered if the 'something you like' might include kissing, then realized what a silly idea that was. From what my uncle had said, not to mention the story about Beth, I knew Mel was into girls, not guys. Plus, if she'd really wanted to kiss me, she could have done it when we were alone in the studio.

Even though not knowing what it was made me a little anxious, I was even more curious than before, so I gave a short nod and said, "Okay, I'll give it a try."

=-=-=

Except for the distant but recognizable hum of a fridge, Mel's house was silent as we entered. After walking a few steps into my friend's living room, I asked her, "Is anybody else here?"

Mel looked over her shoulder at me and said, "My dad works Saturdays at the packing house during the summer, but my mom's home. Today's laundry day, so she's probably outside hanging stuff up on the clothesline."

"Think she'd be okay with you bringing a stranger in the house?"

Mel rolled her eyes and said, "You ain't a stranger. You're my friend." While I was trying to untangle the logic of her argument, she turned to the stairway by the front door, then took the steps two at a time as she said, "C'mon."

Deciding she wouldn't have brought me over her house if it was a problem, I told myself to stop worrying as I ran after my friend.

=-=-=

After swinging the door shut, I followed Mel to the middle of her bedroom. I'd never been in a girl's room before. It was a lot less frillier than I'd imagined one would be, and it didn't have a spot of pink showing anywhere. "Nice room," I said as I looked around.

My friend seemed a little nervous when she smiled and said, "Thanks. Can you close your eyes for a minute?"

"Ummm ... why?"

"It's just ... it'll ruin the surprise if you see something."

Deciding it couldn't hurt to do what she asked, I said, "Okay," as I closed my eyes.

There was a spark of excitement in Mel's voice as she said, "I'll be right back." I heard wooden scraping and clunking sounds for a few seconds, then she said, "You can look now."

When I opened my eyes, I noticed Mel was holding her hands behind her back, so I asked, "What you got there?"

She took in a breath, then said, "Before I show you, will promise to keep an open mind, and at least try something out?"

"Try what out?"

Instead of answering, she bounced on her toes and said, "Pleeeeease?"

I sighed and nodded as I said, "Okay."

She whipped out her right hand and held up a pair of purple denim shorts as she said, "I thought these would look nice on you."

"Errrm ... ain't they girl shorts?"

"So, you're okay with wearing a girl's top, but not shorts?"

"You never explained what a top was."

"You know," Mel said as she swung the shorts towards my chest. "The clothes covering your top half."

"You mean ... my shirt?"

"Yeah!"

I looked down at myself and said, "Okay, maybe most guy shirts don't have a lot of flowers-"

"-and hearts."

I frowned at the interruption, then said, "Yeah, and stars too. But ..." I thought back to when I'd first seen my shirt at the thrift shop. One of the reasons it had caught my attention was because it looked different from the other shirts in the boy's department. Still, it *had* been in the boy's department ... although it could have wound up there accidently.

"Okay," I said. "Maybe it is a girl's shirt, or top, or whatever. Is that such a big deal?"

"Of course not. And neither are these shorts."

"I guess you're right," I said as I took the shorts from Mel.

Before I could blink, my friend's hand had gone behind her back and was holding something else. It was white. It looked like it was made of cotton. And, despite the lack of lace or anything else frilly, it was unmistakably girlish. "I can't wear those!"

"Why not?"

"They're girl underpants."

"Panties."

"What?"

"They're called panties, and why can't you wear them?"

Even though I was pretty sure there were hundreds of answers, I was having trouble finding any of them until I stumbled across an obvious one. "I'm already wearing underpants."

Mel nodded towards the shorts and said, "Those have a pretty low waist. You don't want your waistband showing, do you?"

"No, but they're still girl underpants."

"Panties."

"Whatever."

"So why's it okay for you to be wearing a girl's top?"

I was starting to feel like I was fighting a losing battle as I said, "I dunno. It's just ... clothes."

My friend waved the panties at me as she said, "So are these."

"But ... " I said as I tried to think of something to say against my own argument. "Okay," I said as I gingerly took the panties with my free hand. "I guess you're right."

Mel grinned as she said, "Of course I am. Now, I just have one more thing for you."

With the way I jumped when she held out her other hand, you would have thought she had thrown a snake in my face. Once I found my voice, I said, "I am *not* wearing that."

"It's just a bra."

"I don't care what you call it. I ain't wearing it."

There was disappointment in her voice as she said, "So, you changed your mind about giving this a try?"

"No, but ... a bra?"

"It's just clothes."

Feeling defeated by my own words again, I accepted the strange contraption my friend held out, then said, "Okay. Like I said, I'll give it a try."