Motorcycle Babe

The Waterfall

Raven

I sat by our waterfall for what felt like hours—probably more than I wanted to admit. The silence around me was heavy, almost suffocating, but it was exactly what I needed. I still couldn’t believe I almost gave in to what had happened earlier. With any other girl, I’d have been more than willing to cross that line. But she wasn’t any other girl. She was—and probably still is—the love of my life, even if I’ll never admit that out loud, not to her or anyone else.

I sighed deeply and reached into my pocket, fingers brushing against the joint I had tucked away. I was about to pull it out when the memory of her stopped me—how she’d been so against all this, yet somehow willing to try it just once. I never touched any of this stuff before meeting her, but after everything, I needed something to numb the pain. This was all I could think of. Well, that and the fights I kept getting into. But the bruises from without her… they hurt far more than any mark on my skin.

Our relationship was complicated. Her parents were devout Christians who refused to accept the l***q community. We had to hide everything—not just from her family, but from school too. That pressure shaped so much of our time together, made it thrilling in a twisted way. Sneaking around became our norm, and that’s how the bleacher spot was born. We stumbled across it one night, hidden and forgotten, and we both knew it was ours.

We spent countless nights there, wrapped in a bubble away from the world. It was our sanctuary, the only place where we could almost be ourselves. We came close to losing our virginity there, but I wanted to wait—until senior year, when we’d both be sure, more experienced, more ready. We did other things, things I won’t say aloud, but none of it ever felt right without her.

I sighed again and pulled out my flask, taking a swig. The burn in my throat was familiar now, a small comfort compared to the ache inside. I scoffed at myself. Here I was, sitting in the same place I once got drunk because of a girl. But she wasn’t just any girl—she was my girl. The one who got away because of a stupid decision we made that night. A decision that shouldn’t have happened at all.

“f**k,” I whispered to the empty woods, my voice breaking. The tears threatened to fall, but I clenched my jaw tight. I hadn’t cried since that night. Not even at my dad’s funeral. When he died, everything changed. Mom tried to drown her grief in alcohol but only ended up burying herself in work, long hours and late nights, barely eating or sleeping. The spark in her eyes died the day her love left this world.

My parents met in the mall when Mom was a college freshman and Dad was a high school senior working a pretzel stand, handing out free samples. To him, it was love at first sight. He was awkward and unpopular then, with thick glasses too big for his face. But as he grew older, so did his confidence—and his charm. Mom never doubted he loved only her, and the way they looked at each other was something straight out of a movie.

I always dreamed of having that kind of love, and for a while, I thought I did. But we never got to show it to anyone. That reality cut deeper than I cared to admit. We wanted the world to accept us—to love us as openly as any straight couple—but that was impossible. To them, we weren’t normal; we were mistakes, diseases to be hidden.

I couldn’t handle the weight of those thoughts anymore. I grabbed my phone and hit play on a random playlist on Spotify, hoping for a distraction. Instead, the first song that played crushed me: “They Don’t Know About Us” by One Direction.

The lyrics were a mirror to our story—our secret, our love, the parts no one else understood. I had dedicated that song to her once, hoping it would say everything I couldn’t. Now, the words pierced through me like fresh wounds.

My eyes burned, tears threatening to spill over, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

And then, like a ghost, I saw her—her eyes full of desire, longing, and something I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was painful and beautiful all at once. I swallowed hard, my heart breaking anew.

I shut off the music and tried to pull myself up, but my body protested. The dizziness hit me hard—I was crossfaded—and I stumbled, falling face-first into the dirt. For a moment, I just lay there, letting the earth hold me.

I set my alarm on my phone, reminding myself that I was supposed to meet someone after practice. Hopefully, Arielle could be a good distraction—something to take my mind off the girl I still loved, even when it felt like it was killing me.

I sighed one last time, closing my eyes as the last thought burned bright in my mind:

Gabby’s eyes—full of desire. I still love her.