After my friends learned I was gay, they not only accepted me -- besides Sarah -- but also made it their goal to find me someone. So when they found out their was a speed dating session for homosexuals, they signed me up instantly. Apparently it is completely anonymous, going so far as to make us sign a waver that promised to keep the identities of the people with red stickers hidden. Apparently, they could sue us otherwise, so whatever don’t rat out the red stickers. That was all fine and dandy until the next girl arrived at my table. It was my crush: Jackie, the head cheerleader. However, she had the red sticker on her shawl. She told me how her family was just a bunch of christian zealots and that was why she was still in the closet and how she first found out she was gay in church when she saw this cute girl there. All in all, we hit it off extremely well. Except that red sticker kept bothering me. I wanted to gush and gush over her, so I said something stupid. I told her to come out to her family. Then our five minutes ended with my foot in my mouth.
I mentally beat myself up for it the rest of the night, completely ignoring other attendees as I wallowed in my own stupidity. I could have gotten her number. I could have dated her in secret. I could have not been an idiot. Of course my friends wanted details the next day, but I just used the waiver as an excuse to avoid the topic. That changed, however, when I saw Jackie. She had a black eye, a line of bruises on her left side, and her eyes were red and puffy. I was an idiot and a fool, but I am no dumbass. She told her parents, and they weren’t happy. I managed to convince her to call the cops, and I offered her my shoulder. I did not expect her to instead wrap her fingers into mine before resting her head on my shoulder. Before we parted, she whispered something that made me happy, sad, and angry at myself all at the same time and then left with a smile. In my hand was a small piece of paper. Just 7 numbers.
“You know... We go to the same church.”
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