Mitch is sitting underneath the roof over his front steps smoking when I cross the street, my purple umbrella shielding me from the violent rain. “You really think you should be doing that? Heard that stuff kills…” I lecture, shaking out my umbrella and sitting down next to him. He flicks his cigarette at me. “Oh feck off, Cara.” “Still pretending to be irish are you?”

Mitch has been my best friend since our freshman year of high school when our principal pushed him into my homeroom one morning, saying, “This is Mitch Spring from California—” to which Mitch replied, “Colorado,” a nickname that stuck (and he hated). I was the only person who was genuinely interested in getting to know him. He pushes his blond-ish hair out of his face. Strong jaw, dark blue eyes, and some stubble—he really is nice to look at. Then I remember why I came here. “I have to tell you something.” He looks over at me. “Me too.” That startles me a bit. “Oh, umm, well you go first then.” I say, trying to push my confession back as far as I can. He takes a deep breath. “I like you, Cara.” My brain short-circuits. “I like you too, Mitch.” “No, I mean, I like like you. As more than a friend.” My heart starts beating faster. Fuck. I run my hand through my dark curls. “Well, this is awkward.” “Shit, I knew this was a bad idea!” He turns to get up. I grab the corner of his shirt. “Wait, that’s not why. It’s what I was going to tell you.” He sits down again. I stay silent. “Well?” He forces a smile. “I’m a lesbian.” His mouth forms a silent “oh.” Then his smile turns into a real one. He pulls me into his side, laying an arm around me. “Cool.” I laugh. “That’s all?” He grins. “Yeah. You’re my best friend. And I still love you. Let me get over you and then we’ll find both of us some girls. I mean, we can’t stay single forever, right?” “Wow. Yeah, we can’t.” “Woohoo! Girl power!” He whoops. “So you’re not mad?” “Hell no! It’s you. Sexuality isn’t something life-changing, it’s just… sexuality. You love who you love, so what? We’re cool.” “Cool.” “Just so you know, anyone who doesn’t understand that I will beat up real good.” “Mitch…” “Okay, but I’ll yell at them.” I laugh. “Okay.” He hands me the cigarette. I squish it out under my shoe. He shoves me. And then we watch the rain, talking, laughing. Just best-friend shit really.

Note: if you have queer friends, be a mitch, not a bitch. It really isn’t that deep, all you need to do is be understanding, love is love, and I love all of you guys :)