Theoretically Straight

by Amy Bailey

I’m beginning to wonder if becoming an adult—particularly a Christian adult—will primarily consist of feeling guilty all the time.

“Right, all I’m saying is that I don’t want to see tiddies for the sake of tiddies. Give me tiddies with backstory. Tiddies with heart. Fully-developed-as-characters tiddies. I think I just really enjoy saying the word ‘tiddies.’”

“I realized that a boy I thought was flirting with me at school was really just existing near me while not actively trying to assault me. A common mistake.”

“It’s not fair. Why am I only interested in the boys who can never like me back? It’s like a curse. I’m forever doomed to unrequited crushes.”

I mean, where’s my swamp creature? I want it so bad that it hurts sometimes. I just feel unwanted.”

Who knows, maybe my future boyfriend is out there now, feeling the same way I do.”

“First of all, splinters are the leading cause of finger amputations, and secondly, it’s a church. What if I get possessed by the vengeful spirit of a preacher who squeezes all the gay out of me, then tries to make me convert people? I mean, can you imagine me waking up one day and being like, ‘I must make the gays repent.’”

“I think you’re confusing longing with desperation.”

Before I even realize what I’m doing, my hand hooks around the nape of Theo’s neck, and I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his.

“I’m fucking scared. How can I go my entire life thinking of myself as one way, and it completely changes overnight?

There is not a single doubt in my mind that I’m in love with Caleb Raynard.

Still, I can’t help but daydream about what it would be like to walk around the Pumpkin Fair with Theo’s hand in mine for all the world to see. To wrap my arms around him whenever I wanted to and not have to have our friends remind us to break it up. To kiss him, drenched in the golden sunlight that transfigures his deep chestnut hair into hues of umber and honey.

“I love him, and I don’t want to lose him. Please don’t take him from me.”

“Mom, I didn’t–I’m not a completely different person just because I like a boy. Everything else is the same. I’m still me. I still like playing video games and hanging out with my friends. I still listen to music 24-7, and I get super fixated on the bands I like. I still eat too much pizza, and I still get freaked out in big crowds. I still get self-conscious about being shorter than most of my friends. I’m still trying to blow up on TikTok and get a million followers, and I’m still obsessed with Triple H and spooky stuff.” I glance down at the Yellowstone family photo and laugh nervously. “I still wish more than anything that I had not been wearing that cursed t-shirt for this picture because now I’m embarrassed by it.”

“Caleb is my boyfriend. We’ve been together for almost two months now.”

What can I say? I’m a bit of a bad boy now.

“It’s about damn time someone put the Straights to shame!”