Old Enough

by Haley Jakobson

They shifted in their seat, and I heard the jingle of keys from underneath the table. I strained my neck until I clocked a silver carabiner hooked around their belt loop. Bingo. Ugh. Problematic that I was doing this, but I’m sure everyone was assuming that I was straight and in a sorority, so.

I decided I should make an effort to look gayer, so I had gotten my septum pierced in July and bought a pair of Birkenstocks. Besides that, I was pretty femme and my nails weren’t even that short, and I was too tall to cuff my jeans without them looking like capris.

I had no idea how some people could wear their personality so effortlessly. I had regular panic attacks deciding if I could pull off gold hoops.