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Bisexual.

It's one of those words that people whisper. Like a disease. If you say it too loud, you might catch it.

But at least they say it.

They stare at us as we walk through the halls, hand in hand. I hear the whispers. I hear them call us "the gay girls," as if it's an insult. But I don't have room in my heart to care, because it's full of her.

We stop by Leroy's locker, where all our friends usually gather. Today he is alone.

"Hey, Genie."

"Where is everyone?" I ask.

Leroy's smile falters a bit as he glances down at our hands. "They, um...they..."

"Don't want to hang out with me now that I'm dating a girl."

I see a flash of guilt in his eyes as he gives me a small smile.

I lift my chin. "And you?"

He keeps staring at our entwined fingers. He purses his lips and sighs.

"I could never not be friends with you, Genie."

"Are you okay? Genie, come back to me. Gina!"

I jolt in the passenger's seat of Leroy's old sedan. "What? Was I asleep?" I can't remember falling asleep.

"No, but you're about as good company as someone who is," Leroy pouts.

"You're the one who dragged me on this road trip," I point out.

"We've been planning this for four years," he reminds me, as if I've forgotten. "We graduate, we drive up the coast. We finally go see Cobalt. You've wanted to hit up a music festival for as long as I've known you."

I sigh. He's right, but I just can't muster up the enthusiasm for much right now. "I know. I just thought she'd be in the back seat."

He looks at me, the corners of his mouth pulling down. "It's been three months. Forget about her. She doesn't know what she's missing."

"Genie, there's something I need to tell you."

"Me, too." I bite my lip, my heart stuttering like a racehorse's hooves against my chest.

We both speak at the same time.

"I don't think this is working."

"I lo—"

I stop midsentence, my ears ringing with her words and the three I'll never get to say.

"Genie, I'm sorry."

Her voice sounds so far away.

"No...."

"I'm so sorry. I'm just not happy anymore."

"Genie, please pay attention to the road."

I blink hard and adjust my grip on the steering wheel. "I am."

"No, you're not."

I glare at Leroy, his face flashing in the steady stream of oncoming headlights. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"My life is in your hands. That's not exactly relaxing."

I roll my eyes. "You're still as annoying as you were when we were ten."

"You're still a bad driver," he retorts playfully.

We lapse into silence, and the thoughts start creeping into my head again. Why wasn't I good enough? What did I do wrong?

"It wasn't your fault."

Leroy's voice startles me, and I crane my neck to stare at him. The scenery flashes by behind his head, reminding me that I'm driving. I take a deep breath and face forward again, my knuckles white on the wheel.

"People just grow apart sometimes, Genie. But you want them to be happy, even if it's not with you." He sighs. "It's better to know something's wrong than keep going on, you know?" +

"Yeah," I whisper.

If it was wrong, why do I miss it so much?

There's something about the open road. It symbolizes the journey ahead of us. This is our last summer to just be smalltown kids, our last summer to hang out with high school friends before we all go our separate ways and lose touch.

After everything we've been through, that won't happen to Leroy and me. We won't let it.

Leroy is behind the wheel again, and in control of the radio. Six Colors to Free. Predictable. I used to think he only played their music for me, but he assures me all the time that they're one of his favorite bands.

Everyone should be lucky enough to have a friend like him.

Empire City's skyline comes into view, the tower's reflection stretching out into the bay. Its top glows blue for Cobalt. I feel a tingle of excitement at the bottom of my stomach as I forget all about her for the first time in months.

Leroy grins over at me. "Aren't you glad I dragged you out of your house?"

"Shut up," I reply automatically, but I can't tear my eyes away from the city long enough to give him a dirty look.

He laughs now, turning up the radio as the car accelerates on the freeway. "Almost there now, Genie. The dream is about to become reality."

"I'm starving."

"Okay, okay." Leroy holds up his hands. "I know better than to deny the hungry beast."

We stop at a vendor stand and order funnel cakes over the loud humming of its generator, and then eat them as we walk through the crowds.

"You have powdered sugar on your nose," Leroy announces.

"Shut up, no I don't."

"Wanna bet?"

I dodge as he reaches for my face, swiping at my nose. I punch him in the shoulder, but I still laugh.

He stares down at his fingers for a moment, frozen, his face falling. His smile just melts away.

"What's the matter? Did you lose?" I tease.

"Yeah," he says after a moment. Then he rolls his eyes and wipes his hand on his pants. "Let's go. We still have so much to see. Two days might not be enough."

As he turns away, I open my mouth to remind him that he owes me five dollars—the amount that's always at stake whenever one of us says "wanna bet?"

But I stop when I see the white smudge on the back pocket of his black jeans.

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?"

Dammit. I keep doing that, even though I know I shouldn't. Especially not here, not now, in the summer sun, surrounded by amazing live music and such an energetic, happy atmosphere. Cobalt has been both of our dreams since we were in middle school, and I don't want to ruin it.

"Don't be sorry," he cuts me off before I can say it. Sometimes I wonder if he can read my mind. I think we might be psychically linked. "You loved her, you can't just turn that off. But you also can't keep torturing yourself with it."

"I know." I smile at the stage, but it's not really a smile. "And I know you're right about wanting her to be happy, too. I do. And I hope she is."

"I wish you were, too."

A small stab of guilt bubbles up in my stomach. I know seeing me hurt makes Leroy hurt, too. I know because it works the same way in reverse.

"I will be," I finally answer.

We stand in companionable silence for a minute, swaying to the music. I really am lucky.

"You know it's really stupid, but I always had a crush on you," Leroy mumbles suddenly.

I stare at him, not even sure I heard him properly over the music. The red flush creeping up his cheeks makes me wonder about his use of the past tense.

"In case you were thinking you're unloveable or something. You're not."

I blink, breathing shallowly. I don't know what to say.

"Hey, what about her?" he changes the subject abruptly, pointing to a girl. "She's pretty."

"Yeah," I agree absentmindedly, because he's right. She's gorgeous, but I stare at the guy beside me.

I've never really "come out." I've never felt like I needed to. Straight people don't, right? So I got a girlfriend, and that was that.

I've never said it out loud to anyone but myself. As if being silent is some kind of statement. If you lecture someone, they tune you out. If you kindly tell them, they might nod and say "sure," but chances are they're thinking about dinner or whether the phone vibrating in their pocket is a text message or an Instagram heart.

I thought learning by experience would leave a lasting impression. That anybody with a mind open enough to consider the possibility would be the one for me, and everyone else would realize what they had missed and hopefully never make the same mistake again. If they couldn't see it...that was their problem.

It's not true. It's a lie, a trap. Challenged assumptions only lead to more assumptions.

I had a boyfriend once. Back then I was straight.

I had a girlfriend, too. And I was suddenly lesbian.

I was never either of those things.

"You want them to be happy, even if it's not with you."

All I've done is push Leroy and myself into boxes that we will never fit in, and he willingly stayed there anyway, putting on a smile because I was happy.

Leroy's voice brings me back to earth. "You should go talk to her."

I've never said it, and I've never wanted to until now. Until Leroy blushed like that, and suddenly I've never wanted to say anything more badly in my life.

Leroy notices my complete lack of presence in this universe and glances at me, catching me staring at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks. Just like he always does.

"I—" my mouth opens and closes a few times. I probably look like a goldfish. Even if I wanted to say it, every single English word eludes me. I can't speak, only feel—feel the tiny fluttering in my chest, as if something has awoken.

It doesn't really matter to me if the whole world knows. Right at this moment, the only thing I care about is that he knows.

He's still staring at me. I take one step closer, place my hands on his shoulders and press my lips to his, relishing the rush of adrenaline.

I feel his hands on my hips and step back, suddenly realizing that he's my best friend.

"Genie," he whispers with a million questions in his eyes.

"Sorry," I breathe. That's all I can do right now. Breathe.

His forehead crinkles. He looks scared. "Why?"

"I just—I'm so sorry. For everything." I throw my arms around his neck, feeling his bewilderment, but after a moment he relaxes against me and I feel his hand in my hair.

I don't need to say it to every single person I meet, but their assumptions are mine to challenge as I please. I see that now. I don't have to stay silent, inside myself. I can reach out. We can meet in the middle.

"I'm here now," I mumble into the crook of his neck.

"I know." Leroy holds me at arm's length, then takes my hand, his eyes sparkling. "Shall we?"

I laugh as we start dancing, enjoying the music and the warm breeze and each other's company against the sound of music and fireworks. +

In a few years, we'll look back and remember this is where it all began.

Cobalt.