Girl Meets Boy - Ali Smith [15]
(They were laughing. Like they were actually happy. Or like being gay is okay, or really funny, or really good fun, or something.)
I am running on the spot so as not to lose momentum.
(It is the putting of that leg in between the other legs that I can’t get out of my head. It is really kind of unforgettable.)
(It is so …
intimate.)
I stop running on the spot. I stand at the pedestrian crossing and look one way, then the other. Nothing is coming. The road is totally clear.
But I just stand.
(I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I can’t get myself to cross from one side to the other.)
(My sister would be banned in schools if she was a book.)
(No, because the parliament lifted that legislation, didn’t it?)
(Did it?)
(I can’t remember. I can’t remember either way. I didn’t ever think that particular law was anything I’d ever have to remember, or consider.)
(Have I ever noticed or considered anything about it? Should I have?)
(I did. I have. I remember reading in the paper about how people all across the world, and not just people but governments, in Poland and in Russia, but also in Spain, and Italy, are getting more and more tough on people being it. I mean, you’d expect that in Russia and in Poland. But in Italy? In Spain? Those are places that are supposed to be like here.)
(It said in the paper this morning that teenagers who are it are six times more likely to commit suicide than teenagers who aren’t it.)
(I don’t know what to do with myself.)
I stand at the crossing with no cars coming in either direction and I still don’t move to cross the road. I feel a little dizzy. I feel a little faint.
(Anyone looking at me will think I’m really weird.)
There’s only Dominic and Norman in the pub.
Where’ve you been, you useless slag? Norman says.
Don’t call me that, I say.
Can’t take a joke? he says. Loosen up. Ha ha!
He goes to the bar and brings me a glass of white.
Norm, I said a Diet Coke, I say.
But I’ve bought it now, Norman says.
So I see, I say.
Do you want me to take it back and change it? Norman says.
No, it’s okay, I’ll drink it since it’s here now, I say.
I texted you, Madge, Dominic says.
(My name’s Imogen.)
Did you? I say.
I texted you four times, Dominic says.
Ah. Because I left my mobile at home, I say.
I can’t believe you didn’t have your mobile with you, when I’d told you I was going to text you, Dominic says.
He looks really offended.
No Paul or anybody? I say. I thought everybody was coming.
Just us, Norman says. Your lucky night. Bri’s coming later. He’s bringing Chantelle.
I’d bring Chantelle any day, Dominic says.
I’d do a lot more to Chantelle than just bring her, Norman says. Paul’s gay, man. He won’t come out on a Monday night because of University Challenge being on.
Paul isn’t gay, I say in a small voice.
Paul’s hoping there’ll be questions on tonight about Uranus, Dominic says.
Paul isn’t gay, I say again louder.
You talking from experience then? Norman says.
Scintillating conversation, I say.
I make my face look bored. I hope it will work.
Dominic doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me. The way he’s looking at me makes me look away. I pretend I’m going to the ladies. I slip into the other bar and phone Paul.
Come to the pub, I say. I try to sound bright.
Who’s there? Paul asks.
Loads of us, I say.
Is it Dom and Norm? Paul says. I’m only asking because they left an abusive message on my answerphone.
Uh huh. And me, I say. I’m here.
No offence, Imogen. But I’m not coming out, Paul says. They’re wankers. They think they’re so funny, they act like some nasty double act off tv. I don’t know what you’re doing out with them.
Go on, Paul, please, I say. It’ll be good fun.
Yeah, but the world now divides into people who think it’s good fun looking up pictures on the net of women fucking horses and dogs, and people who don’t, Paul says. If you need me to come and get you, call me later.
Paul