Genevieve. She is the most stubborn, irritating, knowing every damn thing, woman I know. She will find ways to crawl beneath your skin and torture you with her clever yet annoying wit. There was this one time that she got me good. Part of me wants to laugh and the other part wishes I could rip out her hair, laughing maniacally as I glue it back on to look like a birds nest. I was chilling on campus, it was such a beautiful day. The campus was filled with high school seniors, eager to take their tours. I was sitting in the courtyard, minding my business, in my feelings listening to my “in my feelings” playlist. I had just broke up with my girlfriend of 2 years. Never you mind the fact that we technically broke up a year ago, it was still fresh for me as she was my first and only. I suppose I’d have to share a little about myself for you to truly understand the story. I was named Bianca but I now go by Tye. I’m first black, and very proud of it. I am a junior at OSU, and I am a queer, non binary, person. Did I mention I’m VERY proud? My ex, she doesn’t really matter as much because I hate her, now at least, at the time of this story however, she was my world.
Genevieve, that bitch Genevieve. She was a good friend of mine freshman year, until I accidentally rejected her. How did I accidentally reject her? Well I hadn’t, during that time, figured myself out just yet. I knew I liked girls but I hadn’t explored dating. I hadn’t even came out to my family yet. I was trying to figure out where on the spectrum of queer I fell. Somehow, Genevieve knew. She didn’t know much other than I liked women and she knew I liked her. Had I known she liked me even for a second I would have hopped on that train of discovery but I thought she was just my straight roommate. Well one night, we got so faded that we started sharing all of our secrets. I told her things I wouldn’t dare repeat. No, not even for the sake of this story. I will however, fast forward to the rejection. So, again, we were two sheets to the wind and Genevieve decided to make a move since I clearly wasn’t going to. I saw her coming. She was licking her lips, moving in slow motion as she batted her eyes at me and moved closer. This didn’t happen in slow motion in real life but this is how I remember it. She smelled like a tropical vacation, looked like a goddess, my eyes danced around her body and gave it a twirl. I started to panic. I’ve never dated anyone and I sure as hell never got the courage to make out with a girl. Suddenly my mind started thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. What if I’m a bad kisser? I mean hell, practicing on my stuffed animals as a pre-teen was all the experience I had. What if I had something in my teeth? Or what if I had a booger? Worst yet, what if she had a booger? My thoughts consumed my head and then I heard the loudest thud that brought me back to what was happening. I was so caught up in my head that I didn’t notice her go in for the kiss and fell on the floor when my lips didn’t prop her up. She was pissed! Do you know how awkward it is to live with someone who felt like you turned them down, embarrassed themselves, and never felt “rejection” until you accidentally rejected them? I thought I was going to die. I was so glad when we moved out of the dorm that summer.
Back to the courtyard. So there I am, living my truth as a proud queer individual, drowned in my feelings of my ex. Not even three songs in, a girl came up to me.
“Hey, um,” she began.
“Yes?” Even though she was blocking my sun, and interrupting my flow.
“I was told we were supposed to meet you here.” She said nervously.
Then more people came up to me. There were at least fifteen to twenty students standing in front of me.
“What’s going on?” I curiously asked.
“Aren’t you the Christian group leader?” The same girl asked me.
“I mean don’t get me wrong. Love God. I really do, but what the hell are you talking about?”
I probably shouldn’t have said that with the Christian parents of these Christian kids around.
“The girl over there said that you were the group founder and leader.”
That’s when I noticed Genevieve, sitting with my ex, and waving at me. Not only did she tell these people that I ran this group but she only did it to get my attention so she could flaunt my ex in my face.
That day was torture for me. To prove she didn’t get to me, which she did, I took those people on a tour and told them all about a group I knew nothing about. It’s all good though because it’s me who got the last laugh. Ok, so by last laugh, I mean that a couple years later, I hooked up with Genevieve. I still hate that ex, and as awful and annoying as Genevieve was, she was also, a great listener. She is sweet when she wants to be, generous, brilliant, and my wife. I don’t know why I even talked to her again after that day, but had I not, then we wouldn’t have the gorgeous family that we do now. I hope I never lose that memory, mostly because I want our children and grandchildren to know how awful she was; also because she hates it.