Cherry Chapstick

I am enrolled in a Gender Women’s studies course in school right now. In class we have read several stories from people who are a part of the LGBTQ+ community. A few days ago I was at the mall and I walked by a store that sold tuxes and suits. In the display window there was a picture of a man in a tux and a woman in a wedding dress. They were stunning looking. However, it struck me was that the images that we use to sell weddings and love in general are couples made up of a happy looking man and woman. I wanted to write a love story to try and show that regardless of gender, love is love.

She kissed me.

We were best friends.

We had met in the fifth grade.

We were inseparable.

We were 18. We were dancing. We were drunk.

She kissed me.

Her lips were soft. They were warm and tasted like cherry chapstick.

Is it weird that I had always wondered what her lips tasted like?

She was just having fun, but what she didn’t realize was that that was the moment that changed everything. I was falling in love with my best friend and neither of us had any idea.

I spent the next day replaying the moment in my head, over and over again. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was I going crazy? I felt something? Didn’t I? Did she feel something too? She couldn’t have possibly, I’m over thinking this. She was my best friend and we talked to each other about anything everything. But, how do you tell your best friend in the entire world you think you may be in love with her?

She had a girlfriend. I had a boyfriend. We went on double dates once a month. Was something wrong with me?? She’s was my best friend.

Three days after she drunk kissed me, we met up for lunch. I don’t know why this lunch felt different...ok I knew why, but I didn’t want it to. I wanted it to feel the same as all our other lunches. When I saw her standing outside the restaurant, I instantly got butterflies. What the fuck? What was happening? I felt so nervous and nauseous the entire time. My palms were sweaty and my stomach hurt. We talked and laughed and everything seemed fine on the surface, but it just felt different.

A few weeks later she called me and was sobbing. Her and Katie had broken up and she needed a friend. I dropped everything and drove to her house with the break up essentials. I had her favorite ice cream, The Proposal, and two king size Kit Kat bars. When I showed up and saw her in her polka dot pajama pants and oversized gray T-shirt, with tears running down her face, my heart skipped a beat. I had told her she was pretty before; I mean what are friends for? Yet this time I really looked at her and I didn’t know what to do with myself. Damn, she was stunning. The butterflies. I burst into tears. She looked at me confused. I lied and told her I just didn’t like seeing her cry. She didn't need to know the real reason for my tears was because I was so overwhelmed with my feelings for her.

About a month later my boyfriend broke up with me. We had been fighting a lot and he said I felt distant. He wasn’t too far off considering I was so preoccupied with my emotions and wasn’t sure how to go about them.

Days passed, then weeks, then months and eventually it was time for us to start college. Monica was going to Pace in the East coast and I was headed up to USC. I had yet to tell her how I felt but I just couldn’t do it. I was too scared I would just end up losing my best friend.

College was fun. I was doing well in school. I was enrolled in a Gender Studies class and we discussed everything from women in the workforce, to stories about people who were a part of the LGBTQ+ community, to masculinity and its misconceptions. It was everything and more. I went to parties on the weekends. I danced with people I barely knew. I got drunk and made out with strangers. I joined clubs and read book after book. I made a few friends, but throughout it all my mind kept circling back to Monica and that damn cherry chapstick.

We talked all the time. We texted and still told each other almost everything. She was having so much fun in NY. She was passing all her classes and checking out all the local book stores and coffee shops. The only thing we had still avoided talking about was the kiss we shared about six months earlier. I was certain she didn’t even remember it had happened.

One late Thursday night; I was in the library studying for my Philosophy midterm. It was almost midnight and my phone started to ring. I panicked. I had forgotten to put my phone on silent. God dammit. Several annoyed and exhausted “shhhs” were directed at me within seconds. I grabbed my phone out of my bag. It was Monica.

Hello? I whispered.

Hey, you’re studying huh?

Yeah I have my philosophy exam tomorrow. I’m in the library, can we talk later?

How about now?

Mon, I can’t it’s too quiet in here. I'll call you in an hour.

Then go outside? Please it’s important.

Fine, hold on.

I put my stuff away and went down stairs.

Hey, okay I’m back…. what’s up?

I walked through the hallway and out the library doors.

Mon, you—

I got outside and that’s when I saw her.

Tears filled my eyes and my stuff dropped to the floor. There she was standing by the library steps in blue jeans and a white t-shirt. I could tell she had been crying. She smiled as she brushed the hair out of her face.

We stared at each other for a moment or two as we slowly walked to each other. Sobbing and smiling, she hugged me. I held her so tight, hoping that I would never have to let her go. Then that’s when she said it. She said the words that just melted me.

Sarah, this is going to sound insane, you are going to think I’m… Sarah, I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. Do you remember? Please tell me you remember. Six months ago, we were drunk and dancing and -

What I did next was completely out of my character. If you know me, you know I was never one to instigate anything. I was a follower, not a leader. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the nerves or the fear of anything and everything.

I took a step back. I felt my heart pounding against my chest. I put my hands on her cold cheeks and pulled her closer her. I leaned in and kissed her. My heart, still pounding in my chest as she kissed me back. Her lips tasted of cherry chapstick and tears. We stood there for what felt like hours. I pulled away and looked at her. I didn’t need to say anything because I just knew she felt the same but I did so anyway.

Mon, this is crazy…

Just a little bit.

She laughed and hugged me again. The rest of the night was a blur. We walked to a tree at midnight and sat down. We talked for hours. She played with my hair as we lay on the grass and watched the sunrise. Eventually we went back to my dorm and fell asleep. I took my Philosophy midterm a few hours later and passed.

It has been ten years since that night. Mon and I both finished school. We talked everyday and flew back and forth between La and NY on any and every break. We took everything slow and talked about what would happen to our friendship if we didn’t work out. We were both scared shitless, but at the same time, too excited for words.

Mon and I got married six years ago. We were at movie and afterwards she just looked at me and said she wanted to marry me. I looked at her, smiled, and said okay. We drove to the courthouse the next day and made it official. We didn’t need to get married to prove our love for one another. However, we weren’t sure how long our love would be acknowledged by the law. We figured if there was ever a chance that the government wouldn’t acknowledge us as a couple in the future, we better make it official. Monica and I are a couple no matter what but there is something pretty special about seeing it in writing.

I will forever be thankful for that day back in the fifth grade when the prettiest girl in the class asked to borrow a pencil. I will forever be thankful that we became best friends. I will forever be thankful for the one night eight years later that we spontaneously decided to go to a party instead of stay in and watch another rerun of Friends. I will forever be grateful for that freaking cherry chapstick. And more than anything, I will forever be grateful that Mon and I took a chance and allowed ourselves to fall in love.