There were other memories, countless moments she’d long ago chalked up to admiration or envy. Just good old-fashioned jealousy. She wanted to be those girls, or maybe even compete with them, as horrible as that sounded, not make out with them. And maybe that really was all it was sometimes. Simple observation. But maybe those tiny clues actually added up to a whole lot more, and she’d simply never let herself face it. She liked guys, so she focused on guys. It was easy to ignore anything else.
