Emily Dalton - Be Straight with Me

Be Straight with Me copyright 2020 by Emily E . Dalton . All rights reserved . No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of reprints in the context of reviews . Andrews McMeel Publishing a division of Andrews McMeel Universal 1130 Walnut Street , Kansas City , Missouri 64106 www . com ISBN : 978-1-5248- 6244-2 Library of Congress Control Number : 2020931551 Excerpt(s) from Letters to Felice by Franz Kafka, translated by James Stern and Elisabeth Duckworth, edited by Erich Heller and Jurgen Born, translation copyright 1937, 1956, renewed 1965, 1984 by Penguin Random House LLC. com ISBN : 978-1-5248- 6244-2 Library of Congress Control Number : 2020931551 Excerpt(s) from Letters to Felice by Franz Kafka, translated by James Stern and Elisabeth Duckworth, edited by Erich Heller and Jurgen Born, translation copyright 1937, 1956, renewed 1965, 1984 by Penguin Random House LLC.

Used by permission of Schocken Books, an imprint of the Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved. Excerpt(s) from A Strange Beautiful Woman in Mamas Promises by Marilyn Nelson, copyright 1985 by Marilyn Nelson Waniek. Used by permission of LSU Press. All rights reserved. ATTENTION : SCHOOLS AND BUSINESSES Andrews McMeel books are available at quantity discounts with bulk purchase for educational , business , or sales promotional use .

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A Note on the Text Memorieslike reflections in a mirrorappear differently depending on who is looking. I have reflected on this story as honestly as possible and portrayed the events to the best of my memory. Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved. This book is dedicated to the understanding that we all exist along the same spectrum however far one end may be from the other. But mostly to the ones who are still afraid, or misinformed, or in denial about what it means to land somewhere in the middle.

Love is like the wild rose-briar , Friendship like the holly-tree The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms But which will bloom most constantly ? Emily Bront, Love and Friendship Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly,
for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her
and to wonder what was going to happen next. Lewis Carroll, Alices Adventures in Wonderland SOPHOMORE SEPTEMBER Your call echoes over a warm end-of- summer breeze that shakes the leafy branches of the elms and maples lining the sidewalk. Hey! You girls blaze? Joanna and I are trudging up the big hill on College Street on our way back to Milliken
after a brief stint at a house party. The soccer team had blasted Katy Perry songs and danced around shirtless on their roof until Public Safety yelled at them. (At a small private college like Middlebury, you can get away with a lot if you only do a little at a time). Soggy half-smoked cigars were disemboweling in the kitchen sink, underclassmen were passed out on chairs in the living room, and everything was sticky.

We left fifteen minutes after arriving.
And now, your shadowed silhouette grows larger as it approaches up the hill. B road shoulders, loose-fitting clothes, and the swaggering gait of a young guy. Mostly in shadow but vaguely familiar your round, lightly freckled face, half of it covered in a short, thick beard, the waves of dirty blond hair under a black and red snapback. Months later, Ill connect the dots ... how one night in the winter of freshman year we happened to be waiting for the same campus shuttle in the dark, cold vestibule on Adirondack Circle. It was me, Dave from across the hall, Dave s friend Douglas, and you Max Willard.

We played Kill Fuck Marry, and something about you rubbed me the wrong way, so I chose to kill you. Little did I know that minutes earlier, when Dave and Douglas and everyone else had left the pregame in my room to go catch the ride, youd lingered behind and stolen a twenty-dollar bill off my desk, because you saw me at a party once and thought I looked like a snarly bitch. But right now, I don t recognize you. I have no idea that your name is Max
or that youre the same year as me or why the faint familiarity of your face is giving me a tentative, queasy feeling. I dont remember that I once wanted you dead. As you stand there in front of us, your cuffed khakis clashing with your jean jacket in a way that almost seems intentional, the nearly full moon casts a filter of gray light over your skin, giving you a ghostly glow.

And I dont know it yet, but every fall to come will make me think of you. REFLECTIONS: FIRST GRADE Im the youngest and the only blonde in a family of redheads. Now where did this one come from? One of these is certainly not like the others! I know I wasnt adopted but sometimes it feels that way. SOPHOMORE SEPTEMBER, CONTINUED Under the gray moonlight, on the big hill on College Street, you tell us you heard that we like to smoke weed, and youre always on the lookout for chill girls who smoke weed. Joanna invites you back to our dorm, and as we walk, you and Jo go back and forth naming people you know, while I cant decide whether I feel less awkward walking in silence beside you or in front of you. When we get to Milliken, Bobby Garthon, a football bro who lives down the hall, is yelling drunkenly up to a fifth-floor window.

He doesnt have any shoes on ... and Im happy because his strange presence makes me feel less like the odd girl out. Never mind, fuckface! Jo is here to save the day, he shouts up at the window, slurring his words. Bobby fist- bumps you, decides hes going to join us, and then falls asleep sitting up on the end of Joanna s bed. Were about to smoke
our miniature bong , Miss Cleo, when you pull out a pipe that looks like a grimy glass dildo. You call it the Steam Roller.

Which is appropriate, because thats what you do with your blunt confidence as you take over our space and ignore every word I try to say. I open the window just to feel like Im contributing something . You goad Bobby to wake up. With a dopey smile on his face, eyes closed, he goes, Shh, shhh, and slumps his head on his shoulder. Wait, you say , do you guys even know him? He lives down the hall from us, I reply. You dont respond to me.
You turn your attention to Joanna, who asks in return how you know Bobby Garthon.

Oh, me and Bobby-boy go way back. You explain how you went to high school together at an all-boys Catholic school. Sure did, you say, making an irreverent sign of the cross. The Lord is my shepherd. Still, you arent really talking to me more to Joannaso I try to look as bored with you as you already seem to be with me. I know this has an effect because, when I ask whether you were close with Bobby, for the first time all night, you actually look at me.

You share that you had only one friend in high school, Pete, and that Pete was the only black kid and you were the only gay kid. You raise your eyebrows at me, and I think you might have noticed how that last bit of information just caught me off guard. Up until then, I couldnt really tell. We smoke the Steam Roller some more, Miss Cleo sits on my desk ignored, and then its time for you to go. You begin belting out, Ri-ISE and shi-INE and give God that glory, Garthy! Finally, Bobby opens his eyes . He shakes his head like a wet dog and follows you out of the room.

As I close the door behind you, I hear you in the hallway trying to get Bobby to harmonize with you, singing, Our God is an awesome God! REFLECTIONS: FIFTH GRADE The song All the Things She Said by t.A.T. u. has everybody at school gossiping. Its about two girls ... kissing. My worst fears are confirmed: girls can be gay.