Court snagged me an invite to a sleepover, complete with all her giggly friends. Despite her reassurance, her friends had not liked me. They were thirteen-year-old bitches, heavily sedated by their mother’s opinions. They ended almost every sentence with the words sweetie or awesome. I didn’t want to be like those girls. I didn’t want to be like my mother. When one of them asked why I hung out with the math geeks, I’d snapped.
“They talk about more interesting things than you.”
The girl — Britney — had looked at me like I was something detestable. She’d cocked her head and smiled at me. I could almost see her cardigan-wearing mother doing the same thing. “She’s a lesbian,” she’d announced to the room. The rest of the girls nodded, like it was a completely acceptable explanation for my strangeness.
Court’s face had dropped. She’d looked so disappointed in me.
“I’m not a lesbian,” I’d said. But, my voice had been weak, unconvincing. The girls had already taken Britney’s word for it. They were already avoiding my eyes.
I’d looked around the room at their stupid, hair-sprayed, pink-lipped heads and said a loud “Fuck you!” before storming out. I felt mildly guilty for casting a shadow over Court’s social game. She’d recover. She was too pretty not to. When she came home, she stormed into my room and folded her arms across her chest.
“Why would you do that?” She’d asked. “You ask me to help you and then you act like an idiot in front of my friends.”
I shook my head. Was she kidding?
“Court, it was them. What are you talking about?”
“You made me look really bad, Leah! You’re so selfish. I’m so sick of your drama.”
She turned to leave, but I’d jumped up and grabbed her arm. I couldn’t believe she was saying this. It’s like they were slowly stealing chunks of her brain and replacing it with their lesser functioning ones.
“That’s not fair! You’re my sister. How can you take their side? Britney lied to everyone. You know I’m not a lesbian.”
Courtney had jerked her arm away. “I don’t know that.”
I’d opened and closed my mouth in shock. My sister — my Courtney had never spoken to me this way. She’d never taken anyone’s side over mine. I felt like someone was burning a hole through my chest, it hurt so bad.
“You’re ruining things for me,” she’d finally said. “They’re my friends. You’re my sister. It bothers me when they say stuff about you. Just please, leave it alone and don’t run your mouth any more. You’re making things hard for me.”
I swallowed my response and nodded. I could do that for her.
We never spoke about what happened after that day, but she was weird with me for a long time. Her friends made a point of snickering when they walked past me in the halls of our private school. They spread rumors too — told people that they caught me masturbating at the sleepover. All this and Court never spoke a word in my defense. I never spoke a word in my defense. I started wondering if she believed them.
In a few weeks, I was declared a lesbian by every popular kid in the seventh and eighth grade. When the rumors finally made it back to my parents, they sent me to Bible camp for the summer. I loved it. I met a Pastor’s son and lost my V-card in the bushes behind the communal bathroom. I came back with an affirmed taste for men. Of course, that didn’t stop the lesbian rumors when school started again. Britney took it upon herself to make sure every girl in her grade and mine knew that they shouldn't undress in front of me in the locker room. The boys would elbow each other in the hallways, snickering and making comments as I walked by. It was terrible. Hurtful. Courtney didn't correct them — that was the worst part. Our bond frayed and snapped, all under the cruel fingertips of Kings High School. I had become used to it in a way, I expected that it was the same way I had become used to my parents’ hands-off approach with me.
I kept my head down, dated boys in the math club who could keep up with me mentally and never stopped plotting against Britney and her lackeys. I changed that year, and no one noticed. They were too busy ostracizing me to notice that my C-cups came in. I learned how to use a blow dryer and makeup. I lost my puppy fat.
That same year, my sister and Britney had a falling out over a boy named Paul. They both wanted him. To save their friendship, both girls had sworn off him in an emotional embrace, insisting that nothing — especially a guy — could come between their friendship. Britney lasted a month before she slept with him. My sister was crushed. I didn't like seeing Courtney cry. And that's what she did for two weeks. I even caught her clutching a bottle of sleeping pills in the bathroom one day.
“Not for a boy, Courtney,” I’d said, snatching the bottle from her fingers. “Seriously, when did you become so weak?”
She’d cried silent tears while staring at me with her bruised eyes. I’d realized then that she was probably always weak. She stood up to our parents when it came to me because they parents favored her. It wasn’t an act of courage to defy your parents when they never so much as raised their voices to you. I’d walked her to her bedroom and tucked her into bed. Then I’d crawled in next to her so I could watch her.
The next day I’d cornered Britney at her locker. She was officially Paul’s girlfriend, and now that she’d severed the bond with my sister, I didn’t have to keep my mouth shut anymore.