Christ.”
“Do the boys know?”
“Of course not. Nobody knows but you. You know what would happen if it leaked out.”
“Yeah, everybody would call you queer, which you are, I suppose.”
“Connie!” Carolyn shrieked. “We are not queer. How can you say that? I’m very feminine, how can you call me a queer? Maybe Molly, after all she plays tennis and can throw a football as far as Clark, but not me.”
Carolyn was dropping her beads, all right. I tried to pretend I didn’t know she’d run a number like that when cornered, but I knew it inside. A delicate whiff of hate curled round my nostrils. I’d like to bust her feminine head.
“What does Molly’s tennis have to do with it?” Connie was becoming increasingly confused.
“You know, lesbians are boyish and athletic. I mean Molly’s pretty and all that but she’s a better athlete than most of the boys that go to this school, and besides she doesn’t act like a girl, you know? I’m not like that at all. I just love Molly. That doesn’t make me queer.”
Quiet anger was in Connie’s voice as she faced Carolyn. “Well, I’m about fifteen pounds overweight, hefty is what I believe it’s called, plus I don’t remember that I’ve ever cooed and giggled in true female fashion, so why don’t you come right out and call me a dyke too if that’s how your mind is misfunctioning?”
Carolyn was genuinely stunned. “Oh, I never meant that about you. You’re just straightforward. Anyway, you’re lazy, that’s why you’re fat. The last thing you are is athletic. You’re the career-woman type.”
“Carolyn, you make me sick.” I threw off my witch’s tatters and headed for the auditorium door.
“Molly!” Carolyn screamed.
Connie took off her costume and came out after me. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know, mostly I want to get away from Miss Teenage America in there.”
“I’ve got the car, let’s go to the park.”
We drove over to Holiday Park and positioned ourselves in the cockpit of the blue jet. I didn’t bother to tell Connie about my last time in the jet
“Do you think you’re a queer?”
“Oh great, you too. So now I wear this label ‘Queer’ emblazoned across my chest. Or I could always carve a scarlet ‘L’ on my forehead. Why does everyone have to put you in a box and nail the lid on it? I don’t know what I am—polymorphous and perverse. Shit. I don’t even know if I’m white. I’m me. That’s all I am and all I want to be. Do I have to be something?” Connie looked down at her hands and her eyebrows wrinkled over her eyes. “Come on, Connie, what’s on your mind?”
“No, you don’t have to be anything. I’m sorry I asked you if you were a queer. But this is a big jolt. Things your mother didn’t tell you and all that. I guess I’m square, or maybe I’m scared. I don’t think you or anyone else should wear a label and I don’t understand why who you sleep with is so Goddamned important and I don’t understand why I’m all strung out over this. All this time I thought I was this progressive thinker, this budding intellectual among the sandspurs,now I find out I’m as shot through with prejudice as the next asshole. I cover them up with layers of polysyllables.” She inhaled and continued, “It wrecked me when you said you were sleeping with Carolyn—
me
, Miss Sarcasm of Ft. Lauderdale High, Miss Fake Sophisticate.” I started to say something, but she kept on. “I’m not through, Molly, I don’t know if I can be your friend anymore. I’ll think about it every time I see you. I’ll be nervous and wonder if you’re going to rape me or something.”
Now it was my turn to be shocked. “That’s crazy. What do you think I do, run around panting at every female I see? I’m not going to leap on you like a hyperthyroid ape. Goddammit!”
“I know that I
know
that, but it’s in my head. It’s me, not you. I’m sorry. I really am sorry.” She swung her leg over and climbed
“Do the boys know?”
“Of course not. Nobody knows but you. You know what would happen if it leaked out.”
“Yeah, everybody would call you queer, which you are, I suppose.”
“Connie!” Carolyn shrieked. “We are not queer. How can you say that? I’m very feminine, how can you call me a queer? Maybe Molly, after all she plays tennis and can throw a football as far as Clark, but not me.”
Carolyn was dropping her beads, all right. I tried to pretend I didn’t know she’d run a number like that when cornered, but I knew it inside. A delicate whiff of hate curled round my nostrils. I’d like to bust her feminine head.
“What does Molly’s tennis have to do with it?” Connie was becoming increasingly confused.
“You know, lesbians are boyish and athletic. I mean Molly’s pretty and all that but she’s a better athlete than most of the boys that go to this school, and besides she doesn’t act like a girl, you know? I’m not like that at all. I just love Molly. That doesn’t make me queer.”
Quiet anger was in Connie’s voice as she faced Carolyn. “Well, I’m about fifteen pounds overweight, hefty is what I believe it’s called, plus I don’t remember that I’ve ever cooed and giggled in true female fashion, so why don’t you come right out and call me a dyke too if that’s how your mind is misfunctioning?”
Carolyn was genuinely stunned. “Oh, I never meant that about you. You’re just straightforward. Anyway, you’re lazy, that’s why you’re fat. The last thing you are is athletic. You’re the career-woman type.”
“Carolyn, you make me sick.” I threw off my witch’s tatters and headed for the auditorium door.
“Molly!” Carolyn screamed.
Connie took off her costume and came out after me. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know, mostly I want to get away from Miss Teenage America in there.”
“I’ve got the car, let’s go to the park.”
We drove over to Holiday Park and positioned ourselves in the cockpit of the blue jet. I didn’t bother to tell Connie about my last time in the jet
“Do you think you’re a queer?”
“Oh great, you too. So now I wear this label ‘Queer’ emblazoned across my chest. Or I could always carve a scarlet ‘L’ on my forehead. Why does everyone have to put you in a box and nail the lid on it? I don’t know what I am—polymorphous and perverse. Shit. I don’t even know if I’m white. I’m me. That’s all I am and all I want to be. Do I have to be something?” Connie looked down at her hands and her eyebrows wrinkled over her eyes. “Come on, Connie, what’s on your mind?”
“No, you don’t have to be anything. I’m sorry I asked you if you were a queer. But this is a big jolt. Things your mother didn’t tell you and all that. I guess I’m square, or maybe I’m scared. I don’t think you or anyone else should wear a label and I don’t understand why who you sleep with is so Goddamned important and I don’t understand why I’m all strung out over this. All this time I thought I was this progressive thinker, this budding intellectual among the sandspurs,now I find out I’m as shot through with prejudice as the next asshole. I cover them up with layers of polysyllables.” She inhaled and continued, “It wrecked me when you said you were sleeping with Carolyn—
me
, Miss Sarcasm of Ft. Lauderdale High, Miss Fake Sophisticate.” I started to say something, but she kept on. “I’m not through, Molly, I don’t know if I can be your friend anymore. I’ll think about it every time I see you. I’ll be nervous and wonder if you’re going to rape me or something.”
Now it was my turn to be shocked. “That’s crazy. What do you think I do, run around panting at every female I see? I’m not going to leap on you like a hyperthyroid ape. Goddammit!”
“I know that I
know
that, but it’s in my head. It’s me, not you. I’m sorry. I really am sorry.” She swung her leg over and climbed
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