Can I speak with you?

“Can I speak with you, privately?”
“Yes – What about?”
“The next story.” I remain in my seat as my colleagues exit the room. Seated at the same table as my teacher, I lock my gaze on his nose. “I understand that classrooms are open environments for discussing the themes and nuances of life through literature, but I will not be attending the next class session nor any further sessions regarding the current reading assignment.”
He picked up the text and played with its pages, summarizing the text for himself “This next story revolves around the internal dialog of a youth who questions his sexuality, whose early sexual experiences – molestation... and rape by an older male – call into question his identity as a man and the expectation of heterosexuality…” he stops fingering the pages and meets my gaze, “I could see why this could be upsetting to read.”
“Yes, I came to you directly rather than going through the administration because I want you to understand that I am very open about this and that I would like to settle this on your terms rather than my own.” I felt my silicone inserts suction themselves to my chest with sweat, I did not appreciate his summary.
“I respect you and your request, I’m excusing you from class and the assignment.” Seeing my gratitude, he hastened to add, “There’s no need to compensate with an additional reading or essay. Does that work?”
I nod and exit. I zippered up my jacket as I ascended the blue stairwell, wading through the petrified fish painted on the walls and excited wails of the whale like pods of students. I duck out on the second floor and run into my partner,
“Ken!” I catch and hold her a few inches away from myself, a distance she instantly bridges with a kiss.
“I went to Peter and explaine...

... middle of paper ...

...my face strangely flush with a color neither of us had seen.
“I did it too, with Ray and Ben, but they didn't want to touch me back." I nodded,
"James didn't either."
“I guess we paid for our pizza, right?” We paused and struggled to remember if we ate any.

The last time we had drinks, James slapped me for asking if I could top. "I'm not gay," he said as he hit me again, "take it like the bitch you are."
V8 and Blood mix well, a lesson best taught by a vampire.

Today is Friday, April 25 of the year 2014, and I stand-up in the crowded Forum like I have since middle school. But this year, my "Bisexual" pin has been replaced by a "?”
This is my liberation - I'm androgynous and pansexual.
To be politically correct, one should acknowledge that identities are not chosen but are developed over life. I like to believe this, but I always wonder.
Based on true events.