Disclaimer: "Twilight" and its characters do not belong to me, except for the OC.
HEATHER
I still remember the third of
December, me in your sweater
You said it looked better on me
than it did you. But I watch
your eyes as he walks by.
What a sight for sore eyes,
brighter than a blue sky.
He's got you mesmerized.
.
"Are you alright?"
If it weren't for the fact that my tears were streaming down my face, I wouldn't have been startled to hear that female voice, but I was surprised. I didn't even have enough strength to lift my gaze, so I simply nodded without looking at the girl's face. I felt ashamed of myself. I despised being seen as weak, especially when it came to shedding tears. But how on earth did someone notice that the renowned cheerleader Lizzie Slater was absent from cheering at the game, only to find her crying in the corners of the library? Nobody used to care if I disappeared for a couple of days or even a week, so I couldn't fully grasp what was happening with this person who came to see me.
After my father's visit and our discussion about my foolish dreams for the future, I couldn't contain my emotions any longer and broke down in the middle of the hallway, barely registering the tears rolling down my cheeks. Seeking refuge and solace, I sought the least expected place—the library—to hide and weep. It's difficult to describe how sitting there, sobbing and clutching my knees in the corner of the brainiac room, felt excessively dramatic, even for me.
"You're not alright, I see you crying."
I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh at the irony of the girl's response, but my laugh sounded pitiful due to the brokenness of my voice amidst the tears.
"Why do you even care?" I asked, contorting my face. "You have more important things to worry about than a 'popular' cheerleader crying in the library. And you know what? You can go ahead and tell everyone. I don't give a damn."
My response seemed harsh, resulting in a prolonged and uncomfortable silence.
"Why would I do that, Liz?"
I did not respond. It seemed incredibly strange to me that someone would come to question me like that, as if they truly cared about my well-being. No one throughout my entire life had shown genuine signs of concern for me, except my mother. She had always cared for and loved me while my father was away from home taking care of matters that only God knows.
My mother was everything to me until she passed away when I was ten, after a long battle with cancer. When she left, I was left alone and at the mercy of circumstances. My father didn't even care about my mother's departure and just focused on tormenting me with the idea of being the perfect heir to his company, which didn't surprise me because he never truly cared for me.
And yes, I still think it was a tremendous mistake to tell him that I wanted to pursue a career in music; on the other hand, I already anticipated his anger on the matter, but I didn't expect him to say that even my mother would have considered me a disappointment. Feeling isolated in my own world weighed heavily on me, to the point that I had to lower myself and pretend to be someone I wasn't just to gain entry into the "popular group" and have at least some company, as no one used to approach me before.
And now, someone coming to console me is the last straw. It almost feels like a cruel joke that caps off my wretched life. Because the reality is, no one truly cares about me.
"I'm not like you think..." she said, as if she were responding to my thoughts, but I could sense doubt in her voice as she said it because she paused before continuing. "Liz, I genuinely care about you."
I curved my lips into a forced smile, struggling to find meaning in the words I was hearing.
"And do you expect me to believe you?"
"No," she replied.
I let out another bitter laugh. This truly felt like a bad joke.
"Then what?"
"I know how difficult it is for you to trust. I could tell because instead of confiding in your so-called friends, you chose to come and hide."
"What a foolish deduction," I growled back. A part of me hated that she was right. "I don't need your pity."
She laughed, and it made me feel a little angry. I found no amusement in it.
"It's called empathy," she said, ceasing her laughter. "Besides, it would be unkind not to feel pity, because it's what leads us to empathy and helping others. It's a human sentiment, and it's good."
This girl really knew how to make me nauseous without having eaten anything rotten from the cafeteria, as I burst into laughter again upon hearing such stupidity.
"It seems we have different opinions about what it means to feel pity."
"That's alright. We are different people, Liz," she replied, leaving me speechless. She really knew how to counter my words. "I'm new in this town, and needless to say, in this school as well. I've heard many rumors about you since I've been here, but I don't believe a single one."
I wanted to roll my eyes, but they stung so much from the shed tears that I could only sigh. It was nothing new for people to spread rumors about me, and they were far from flattering. Just because I was a cheerleader and part of the popular clique, I had been labeled with a despicable hate tag on my back. Unbeknownst to me, I had supposedly transformed into someone who had done things I don't even remember doing; I was an annoying bitch who had slept with the entire school and tormented the most vulnerable. In a way, people who talked without reason sometimes disgusted me.
"Why not? Is this some disgusting bet? If so, I'd rather you leave."
"I'm not like the others. I would never do such harm."
"Everyone says the same thing," I snorted, lowering my voice to a completely dry ton. This conversation was leaving me emptier than usual. "I already told you, I don't need your pity. Go away."
"It's December third," she said, and immediately I furrowed my brow in confusion. Her response had absolutely nothing to do with the matter at hand. "It's the month of Christmas, and it's cold; you shouldn't be here alone, especially feeling like this."
Uncertainty began to prick my mind as I tried to piece together the girl's words, but I still couldn't connect the dots to understand what she had said. However, before I could protest, I felt a weight gently covering me from my shoulders to my back. I was surprised when I realized it was a red sweater, and I could feel the softness of the polyester almost touching my skin. It was at that moment that I decided to lift my gaze for the first time, and instantly, my eyes met a pair of chocolate brown pupils.
I felt my saliva getting stuck halfway down my throat as I admired the girl up close. I had never seen someone with such a delicate appearance before: her small nose, her dark, almost straight hair falling to her shoulders, and her pale skin that brought harmony to her facial features. I would be lying if I said her appearance wasn't worthy of admiration. I was never one to admire girls; I even considered myself ordinary: my hair was wavy and blonde, my nose had simple features, and my eyes were coal black. But this girl, damn, she could even be a model.
"Why the hell are you giving me your sweater?" I asked bitterly, looking down at the floor again and avoiding any kind of eye contact with her.
"It looks better on you than on me," she replied, letting out a soft laugh. "Besides, it's freezing, and I have pity on you, having to come to school just for a simple game... Must be annoying, right?"
"No," I lied, still maintaining my dry tone. "I love coming to cheer on the team."
The truth was, I hated being a cheerleader. I didn't even like basketball; I found it to be a boring sport, and I would never cheer for something I found boring. It was ironic, considering I was the captain of one of the cheerleading squads.
"You're lying terribly," she said, and I could almost sense reproach in her voice. "You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. Even I can tell that you don't like being a cheerleader."
"Are you done now? "I asked her abruptly, not even bothering to look at her. "I want to be alone, polyester girl. Don't you understand?"
I heard her let out a sigh that sounded like tiredness. I clenched my teeth, feeling guilty for pushing people away like this, especially someone who seemed to want to help me. But it was foolish to think that anyone really felt like helping me or genuinely spending time with me. It was better for me to continue with the same routine.
"Alright. I hope you feel better soon," she said in a whisper, and then I heard a couple of steps moving away and the sound of the door opening. I couldn't help but feel a tightness in my chest; I didn't like that feeling of guilt. "But think about what I told you. Think about yourself, not about what others want from you."
As soon as I heard her words, my eyes widened. Nobody who played a prank on me had ever said such a thing before. I could feel my skin tingling, so I lifted my head to try to look at the girl, but the sound of the door closing and the empty hallway made me realize that I was alone again.
I let out a sigh of regret and looked back at the floor, thinking about the words she said. Think about myself? Every time I thought about myself, things turned into a disaster, and I ended up with another emotional wound, just like today. But things always seemed to go better when I did what others expected; however, I couldn't help but dwell on the girl's phrase, and I felt somewhat overwhelmed. It was uncomfortable, and the cold weather wasn't helping at all.
At that moment, a small detail clicked in my mind.
The cold... damn it, the sweater.
"No way," I muttered annoyed, clutching the loose sleeve of the red sweater the brunette had left me. "Damn it, polyester girl."
[~]
I loathed the passage of time. Resuming the school cycle was overwhelming. Living in the unpleasant town of Forks had been quite a challenge for me since my mother passed away and my father decided it would be a good idea to move to a whiny place to start new businesses. During the following years of my life in this town, I tried to fit into an image that didn't align with my personality, and to make matters worse, the people in this place turned out to be just like all the trash I've known, which was not at all surprising.
It had rained yesterday, so getting up early the next day was a challenge. My room was smaller compared to the previous one; medium-sized, with dull gray walls covered in Nirvana posters, a wooden bed with white sheets, a white wardrobe with a mini television, and a nightstand of the same color. Even my house didn't stand out; it was almost identical to the others in the neighborhood: two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a staircase leading to the other rooms.
"I hate study days," I muttered before getting out of bed and going straight to my wardrobe, starting to mess up everything just to find a suitable outfit.
It was needless to say that my clothes were colorful compared to my room, yet I wore the same thing every day. Taking out each piece of clothing, I stood still in place when I saw a red sweater beneath all my socks. I squeezed my eyes tightly, trying to forget about that matter from some time ago, and took out a pair of socks before closing the wardrobe again.
"Stupid polyester girl," I cursed under my breath.
I was always one of those people who didn't like having anything that didn't belong to me, and having that red sweater from that crazy girl was too much for my system. I couldn't even locate her after that encounter to return her sweater, which was a nuisance for me.
"Hurry up, brat! You're going to miss the bus, and I'm not going to take you!"
My father's angry shout resounded through the walls and shattered my little mental stage. With a grimace, I packed the rest of my belongings into my backpack before hanging it over my shoulder and leaving the room, descending the stairs while attempting to fix my hair. Fortunately, it wasn't completely disheveled.
"Could you at least be more considerate?" I responded with a question brimming with anger as I finished descending the stairs and glanced toward the living room.
My father was sitting there on the sofa, engrossed in another one of his old movies, and he didn't even turn to look at me as he said:
"I do more than enough by supporting a burden who aspires to be a singer."
Well, that response was predictable. I gave him an expressionless look before turning around, opening the front door, and leaving the house. Immediately, the daylight hit my face. The paved path, the lush green grass, the trees, and the nearly identical houses were all I could see in that moment. To my immense surprise, the yellow bus was turning right just in front of my home. I didn't know whether to conceal my low spirits as I was already walking to the edge of the sidewalk at the same time the bus parked and its doors opened, revealing the weary face of the driver and all the commotion of the kids inside the vehicle.
Without uttering a word, I boarded the bus, and without waiting, the doors closed behind me automatically. The commotion suddenly ceased, and all heads turned to look at me. I didn't even flinch out of habit, but it was still uncomfortable. I made my way toward the seat occupied by two girls from my cheerleading team, who greeted me with a false smile and pointed to the seat in front of them. I tried to hide my desire to roll my eyes, but all that came out was a forced smile, even more coerced than theirs, and I simply focused on sitting down, following the same routine as every day.
As I settled into my seat and the bus continued its journey, I couldn't help but feel a sense of isolation amidst the chatter and laughter of the other students. I looked out the window, watching the familiar streets pass by. It was a daily routine, the monotonous trip to school, but today it felt different. The weight of my father's harsh words still lingered in my mind.
"Lizzie, Lizzie," the mention of my name in Amber Parker's shrill voice, one of the obnoxious girls from the team, interrupted my thoughts once again.
"Uhmm?" I asked, turning my head to look at her without much attention. Amber's curls bouncing with an excessive amount of happiness didn't give me a good feeling.
"Did you see that the Cullens are they coming today?" she squealed excitedly, and I rolled my eyes.
The Cullens were a group of siblings with flawlessly perfect features, as pale as my damn furniture. Almost all the girls in school were crazy about the Cullens, and half of the basketball team drooled over Alice Cullen. And to be honest, I found it incredibly weird. Yes, the Cullens were beautiful, but they weren't Greek gods, and it always gave me a headache whenever they encroached on my comfort zone. Enduring stupid people drooling over them was not to my liking.
"So what?" I replied bitterly, turning my gaze back to the sky, which had started to fill with gray clouds. Even the weather seemed to mock me, announcing another rainy period.
"Sometimes you act strange, Slater," Amber said, emphasizing the displeasure in her voice.
"She probably just had a bad day, Amber. You know how bitchy she can be," Kyle Evans, the cheerleader from my team who was more of a brown-noser than my father when it came to securing a deal for a new business, commented with a low laugh.
It's amazing how this pair of girls know how to ruin someone's moment. One of the things I wished for the most was to be locked alone in a room, without anyone around. Only there would I find true happiness. I couldn't pretend to lean on the window again and get lost in my thoughts because the bus came to a stop, and the view of Forks High School appeared before my eyes. Truly, luck was not on my side.
The school was nothing more than another building with boring details for me, although only the burgundy-colored bricks gave it a cabin-like touch, especially with the number of bushes surrounding it. Students poured out of the bus like a horde, and before I knew it, the school was filled with noise, and I was the last person to get off. The only thing that surprised me about the situation was that none of the group waited for me. I guess not sharing the same interest in the Cullens affected them too much.
I sighed and decided to unzip my blue coat, letting it hang loosely and revealing a short white shirt. I missed the comfort of loose-fitting clothes, but I knew it was another rule to enter the circle of acceptance.
I kept my head down as I walked towards building number three, ignoring all the students who stopped to stare at me. They were surely surprised to see me without the popular group for the first time.
Finally, I managed to pass the cafeteria and the building, and arrived at the small classroom. I couldn't help but feel relieved. Without wasting time, I followed Marie, a brunette girl from my class, who went ahead to hang her scarf on one of the hooks at the entrance before entering the classroom. Without much thought, I took off my coat and hung it up as well.
Just as I was about to turn and enter, I clumsily collided with someone. I felt the sound of my head hitting the forehead of the person who had chosen to ignore their surroundings.
"Watch where you're going," I exclaimed in an annoyed tone, while bringing a hand to my head.
"I'm sorry," responded a familiar voice, filled with remorse.
The coincidences were awful, and that was precisely the first thing that crossed my mind when I came across those familiar brown eyes again. The damn polyester girl was standing in front of me with an equally surprised look, her mouth hanging open without any intention of uttering another word. Almost quickly, I snapped out of my trance and rolled my eyes.
"Now you're following me?" I said bitterly. She straightened up and repeatedly closed her mouth before giving me a bewildered look.
"I told you I was going to study here," she responded, puzzled. "The day we met, I was visiting my father to get to know Forks a little better before staying permanently."
The word 'staying' resonated in my head, and immediately, I wished the ground would swallow me because seriously, I can't have such bad luck that the damn weird girl in the sweater would actually stay in boring Forks.
"I forgot," I said sarcastically, then turned with the intention of entering the classroom and ending the conversation. I didn't want to be seen with her, and besides, I usually didn't engage in conversations for long.
"Wait!" she exclaimed and grabbed my left arm, stopping my escape. With false anger, I turned and gave her a cold look, causing her to slowly release my arm and sigh before continuing. "I-I wanted to know if we can be... well, since we talked before, I thought... you know, be friends."
Upon hearing her words with anticipation, I couldn't help but display an ironic smile.
"Why do you insist on wanting to get close to me? I'm not interested."
"Well..." she whispered, embarrassed. "I'm new here, and I don't know anyone."
"And how does that concern me?"
"Could you at least show me around properly?"
I pursed my lips and let out a bitter laugh; this girl was truly determined.
"I'm not your guide. You can just accompany me to my house to return your stupid sweater, and that's all you'll get from me."
"Any problem, ladies?"
Professor Mason's voice interrupted the polyester matter. My cheeks quickly turned rosy. It had already been too many embarrassing situations for one day. I stared fixedly at the brunette, who timidly averted her gaze to the ground, and then looked back at the teacher.
"It's nothing, Mr. Mason. Just a minor incident, no big deal," I said, forcing a smile. God, I just wanted to enter the classroom and continue the routine of getting through the damn day.
"Enter the classroom, Miss Slater," the damn bald man replied with a stern look before shifting his gaze to the polyester girl. "Isabella Swan, right?"
"Bella," she corrected, raising her gaze.
I growled as I felt all eyes in the class on us. So this weird polyester-loving girl's name is Isabella? A curious name for someone who manages to make Mr. Mason be kind for once during the school year. Bella glanced at me sideways, and I rolled my eyes before entering the classroom, finally deciding to avoid the unnecessary show.
"What were you doing talking to the new girl?" Amber asked suspiciously as soon as I sat down at the desk next to hers, which was among the front seats.
"Nothing," I replied curtly and looked ahead, watching the supposed Bella Swan walk towards one of the empty desks at the back.
"Do you know each other from somewhere?" Amber insisted again, causing me to give her an annoyed look.
"I would never hang out with weirdos," I lied, trying to silence the unbearable curly-haired girl once and for all.
"You know that as our captain, you should protect your reputation..."
Upon hearing that speech again, I clenched my jaw tightly; once again, this girl knew exactly how to get on my nerves.
"I know, stupid!" I exclaimed, interrupting that damn speech.
"Miss Slater," the professor's stern tone of voice sounded, causing me to close my eyes and slowly turn around, like a mischievous dog caught by its owner after tearing down the curtains. "I see that you enjoy engaging in rude conversations in my class, which I do not tolerate. I'm going to ask you to stand up and sit next to Miss Swan for the remainder of the school year."
I definitely wanted this to be a damn joke. Huffing, I picked up my backpack and headed towards the shared seat of the glorious Isabella Swan, who hadn't even deigned to look at me.
As soon as my backpack hit the floor like my butt on the seat, the teacher continued with the start of the class, and I wanted to die when I felt the heavy gaze of the polyester girl on me, so I simply ignored her.
"I'm sorry you have to sit next to me," the wretched girl whispered, with a tone of voice that was too pitiful for me.
I sighed, wishing I could make a tired face.
"Why do you keep talking to me?" I murmured without even looking at her.
"Because I just want us to be friends."
"And I just want you to leave me alone," I growled.
As if a bullet had hit her, she didn't engage in conversation with me for the rest of the class. The bell finally rang, marking the end of my ordeal; learning about Brontë, Shakespeare, Chaucer, or the damned Faulkner was not of interest to me.
As I walked towards the exit with the intention of grabbing my coat, once again, the polyester girl nervously approached me.
"What's your next class?"
I gave her a cold look, and she timidly lowered hers, as if she was good at playing the role of a stalker. Without hesitation, I fake smiled and said:
"It's called 'mind your damn business,' Swan."
"I'm trying to be nice, why do you treat me like this?"
"I'm not interested in your kindness."
"You don't have to pretend to be mean to me, Liz."
She looked at me with understanding. I rolled my eyes. This girl was really meddlesome in things that didn't concern her.
"Stop interfering in my life, okay?"
Without giving her time to respond, I grabbed my coat and almost ran out of the classroom.
The day continued its usual routine. In Trigonometry class, I ended up standing in front of everyone, repeating the year's topics as punishment for being late, or maybe because the idiot Mr. Varner hates me with all his soul. Among all the classes, I ended up tired with Swimming, and I just wanted to slice Justine Fletcher's neck, another unbearable person from my group who wouldn't stop talking about my interaction with the new student, Isabella Nosy Swan. I tried to act calmly, but I had the urge to hit her.
Then came the Language and Literature class, and unfortunately, the polyester girl was there too, so I had to endure another round of intense and uncomfortable glances.
Finally, the break called for my peace. I was sitting in the cafeteria, in the corner where the popular kids hang out, ignoring the laughter and gossip from the group playing sports and the mean girls from my team. Usually, I was one of the most talkative, but since my spirits were low, I didn't say anything. Anyway, they didn't give a damn.
My gaze wandered around, trying to find something to relieve my boredom. My eyes stopped at the table in front, where the usual boring people were, and to my surprise, Isabella Swan was there, staring at the place where the weirdest students, the Cullens, sat.
They sat in a corner of the cafeteria, on the opposite side from me. Those five never separated, but they also never conversed. They were like a clan of siblings, Ken and Barbie style, but paler than Swan. Besides, they didn't even eat, as their trays were always full of food. They didn't resemble any other students at all. Of the three boys, one was strong, so muscular that he looked like a true weightlifter, with dark and curly hair. Another one, taller and slender, was equally muscular and had honey-colored hair. The last one was lanky, less bulky, and had messy brown hair. The girls were complete opposites. The tallest one was statuesque and blonde, with a gorgeous figure like the ones you see on magazine covers. The shorter girl looked like a pixie, with delicate features and short, rebellious black hair.
However, I always found them attractive, but they weren't all that. Even Leonardo DiCaprio was more perfect than one of the Cullen brothers, who looked like he had been electrocuted with his Goku-like hair. I had never exchanged words with any of them anyway, except with Alice when she tried to interrogate me about things I didn't understand, and I ended up spilling my milkshake on her hair when she mentioned my mother. Despite ending up in detention, neither Alice nor any of her siblings looked at me again.
The fact that Swan had her gaze on the Goku-haired Cullen was something curious, yet relieving. I didn't like feeling the attention that I didn't ask for, although I was unfamiliar with that feeling of uncertainty that invaded my chest, not understanding what the hell Isabella saw in Edward Cullen.
As a result of my internal doubt, Swan's face turned in my direction, and our eyes locked firmly.
I quickly averted my gaze, feeling my cheeks start to burn. I wanted to slap myself right then and there since I once again felt Swan's intense gaze on me.
"Slater, why the hell is the new girl staring at you?" Jeremy Blake, the leader of one of the basketball teams, asked.
Embarrassed, I tried to let out a laugh, but only a silly giggle came out.
"I don't know, why don't you go and ask her?"
"Kyle and I saw you interacting with her as if you knew each other before," Amber teased. Angry, I gave her a death stare that made her fall silent and look at the ground.
"Now you're going to start hanging out with the stupid sheriff's daughter?" Jeremy asked, amused.
"Not in your most disgusting dreams, Blake," I replied with a growl, turning my gaze towards Swan, who opened her eyes in surprise when I was the one who looked at her. I clenched my jaw and shifted my gaze back to my food. "I would never hang out with her."
The rest of the recess, I continued to maintain my silence, ignoring Swan's intense gaze and the mockery from my group. The following hours brought more classes, which bored me even more than being in History, but I was grateful not to have to cross paths with Swan. Then, Physical Education came, and there I wanted to die; I hated sports with all my life.
The weather was so bipolar that the rain seemed to have dispersed as if it had never been there in the first place.
To my routine misfortune, Swan was there, and the volleyball game became impossible to deal with. However, an excuse of supposed cramps was enough to avoid getting close to her, so I sat in the bleachers watching as she got hit by the ball, which didn't bring me any amusement, just fear.
Later on, I had my last class of the day, which seemed to give me a break from having to share it once again with the polyester girl. I was never a fan of Law, but it was more bearable than theater classes.
The sound of the bell finally marked the end of my school schedule, so I gathered my things and headed towards the exit, longing to get home and have a good rest from it all.
Once again, to my headache's dismay, the sound of a door from the Principal's Office suddenly opened, and Isabella Swan came out as if she had seen a ghost. I stopped abruptly and couldn't help but furrow my brow.
"Did you see Lucifer, Swan?" I asked mockingly.
Like a frightened bunny, she jumped and looked at me surprised. Still, it scared me to see how a smile curved on the lips of that face that always seemed like a donkey suffering from diarrhea.
"Hello, Liz."
My mocking expression quickly disappeared. I couldn't help feeling confused as the hairs on my arms stood on end.
"Don't call me that," I said bitterly, although my voice came out as a plea. "It feels uncomfortable coming from you."
"When are you going to drop that fake bad girl attitude?"
"And when are you going to stop being nosy?"
She chuckled softly. I furrowed my brow again. I didn't understand what was funny in my words.
"I just want to get to know you."
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.
"You'd better keep looking at Edward Cullen," I replied curtly, ignoring how unsettled she became at the mention of Goku. "He's more interesting than me, believe me."
"He's handsome and catches my attention..." she whispered shyly, her cheeks almost turning red. I raised my eyebrows, curious that she found the electrocuted hair guy attractive. "But you're mistaken about something."
"What?" I asked puzzled. This girl was indecipherable.
"You're more interesting."
I don't know if it was the shiver I felt or my incredulous expression that left me frozen upon hearing that, but scared by her comment, I let my arms drop and tried to give her my best look of hatred.
"I don't care," I muttered through clenched teeth, spitting out the discomfort and false anger in my voice. "Just stay away from me, Swan."
Her face immediately contorted. However, I turned on my heels and, without wasting time, disappeared through the exit door, wishing that everything that happened during the day was just a damn nightmare.
A group of pale ones were less interesting? What the hell is wrong with this girl?
Tomorrow, I'll return her stupid sweater and pretend I never knew she existed. I won't ruin my reputation for the crazy sheriff's daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
One day, I thought: What would have happened if we added a homosexual twist to Bella and Edward's story in Twilight? At first, I wasn't convinced, but then I listened to my playlist of heartbreak songs and said, "Why not?" That's how this story was born. It's a short story based on my wild imagination, Twilight, and songs from my playlist, starting with "Heather." I hope you give it a chance, #LGBT in this story.
xoxo.