“Yes. I am. Finally. And I meant what I said. I love you, all of you. I’m going to be around more often. So much more you’re going to beg me to stay home.” With a weak smile, she cleared her throat and rose. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
“She’ll want to be alone,” Marnie murmured.
Cait crossed the living room to the door. “She can tell me that herself.”
She took the same path she suspected Val had, through the apartment building’s dusty hallways and down a couple narrow flights of stairs. She came to a stop at the side exit that opened in front of the small playground Val had hung out in since childhood.
She sucked in a deep breath and opened the heavy, creaky door. Hopefully Val had stuck to pattern.
A stiff breeze almost knocked her over the instant she stepped outside. The brisk December air bit into her cheeks, and her eyes watered. Just from the cold. That was all.
Seeing Val on one of the rickety swings, twisting around in circles so that the steel links groaned, made the sting in her eyes increase. How had she let them grow so far apart?
She just hoped she wasn’t too late to fix it. With all of them.
“Hey,” she said when Val glanced up and immediately looked away. Cait pulled her cardigan sweater in tighter around her, though she knew she couldn’t stave off the chill that had seeped into her bones. “Can we talk? Please?”
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go now?”
“No. I’m staying all day. Then hopefully we can all go over to Tristan’s parents’ house for a while tonight.” Cait took the swing beside her and tried to steady her voice. Ah, to hell with it. “Val, no matter what you think, I love you. You’re my sister. I wish you’d tell me what’s going on, but I understand why you won’t. I let you down. But I promise I’m going to try to do better. I swear.”
“I told Mom I’m gay,” she whispered.
Cait fought not to react. To keep her face perfectly composed. But even with Tris’s forewarning, shock must’ve registered in her expression because Val made a disgusted noise and turned away.
“Honey, are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“You don’t have to be certain of anything right now. You’re only fourteen—”
“I’ll be fifteen in two months.”
God, she was just a baby. Cait rubbed her fist over her stomach. “Well, I’m twenty-five now, and I can tell you I don’t always know for sure how I feel about stuff. So maybe you’re just…” At Val’s heated glance, she trailed off and shook her head. “Okay. I got it. You’re sure.”
“Yes.”
For a while, the creak of the swings moving in twisted tandem was the only sound.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” Val dashed a tear off her cheek with a knuckle. “Or I did. We broke up.”
“Oh sweetie. How come?”
“Because she’s embarrassed she’s a lezbo. And she’s embarrassed everybody knows.”
“Being a lesbian doesn’t make you a lezbo.”
“Lezbo, lesbian, dyke. It’s all the same.” Val shrugged. “I don’t care what people call me. I know what I am. Other people’s words for it don’t change me.”
Cait wrapped her arms around her waist, stunned into silence. How could Val be so strong and brave and open about her identity while she flew her wuss flag high? If she’d had any lingering doubts about coming clean tonight, this conversation put them to rest.
Val had set the gold standard. She needed to be completely honest about her feelings. No matter what.
“You’re amazing,” Cait said quietly.
“No, I’m a lezbo.” Val huffed out a breath and stared straight ahead. “I’m going to keep saying it until that word doesn’t have any power over me anymore.”