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Elle sniffed, hugging her mug to her chest. “They’re playing the Cranberries. I’m a lesbian. It’s required for me to cry.
god, what had even prompted Julie to say all that? She blamed Nora Ephron.
“Well, I know the straights sometimes have their own weird rules about this, but in my book, if someone comes—or comes close to coming, if orgasm is hard for them—that counts as sex.”
Don’t stress about whether it means you’re a lesbian or bi or whatever. If you like sex with Elle, even if you never have sex with anyone else, don’t stress about where that puts you, or doesn’t put you, on the ace spectrum, if you don’t want to stress about it. Labels can definitely be helpful, but if you’re happy where you’re at, then just—whatever!”
“You can’t be a lesbian and be allergic to cats,” she eventually said, voice strained. “There should be a rule about that.”
