Love Letters from Former Nuns: Genevieve

Genevieve would like to make sure no one misconstrues her inviting Nicholas to prom as pity.

If anything, Genevieve invited Nicholas to her junior prom because she was in recovery from her awkward phase. The first step of this particular recovery was for Genevieve to realize she no longer had the sexual appeal of a crusty pan of oatmeal three hours and forty-five minutes into a breakfast buffet at the Holiday Inn. She was now artisanal New York City brunch oatmeal. She was made to order, garnished with fresh fruits, a swirl of maple syrup, and a sprig of mint for an extra pop of color. She had become the kind of oatmeal in which the flavor profile is enhanced by subtle notes of nutmeg, not the cough of Greg from room 307 who chose not to cover his mouth in the buffet line.

Nicholas, who had not known the crusty Genevieve, only noticed that Genevieve was artisanal. Struck by and, if she is being completely honest, slightly scared of her new appeal, she decided not to push her luck and began settling into a flirtatious routine with Nicholas. Every day when the Nunnery’s brother school dropped off a bus of boys to play the male roles in the spring Shakespeare production, Nicholas disembarked and found his way to Genevieve. Nicholas did have competition for the affections of Genevieve, but fortunately for him his competition, a rather tall and muscular boy by the name of Morty, was playing Genevieve’s father and Genevieve does not have a daddy kink.

Morty was putting the moves on Genevieve, asking her on dates and consoling her with his baseball glove of a hand on her thigh. Perhaps as a remnant of her recently exited awkward phase, Genevieve appreciated the more middle school approach Nicholas took with her. Nicholas’s best friend asked Genevieve if she liked Nicholas, and if Nicholas could have Genevieve’s number. Once in possession of a means of communication that did not involve gazing into Genevieve’s eyes, Nicholas led a text discussion with Genevieve about alt-rock bands. If possible, Genevieve knows less than nothing about alt-rock bands. Despite Nicholas’s distinct lack of conversational skills, Genevieve humored and reciprocated his flirting. She needed something to entertain her during a grueling rehearsal session.

As a newly attractive junior, Genevieve was haunted by the impending prom. She never thought she would have any prospects for a date to prom, yet here one was, staring at her as she tried to keep her scenes with Morty professional. Genevieve decided to prompose to Nicholas, who responded with an enthusiastic, if disbelieving, “What?! OhmygodYES!”

It was while her mother was frantically snapping pictures of Genevieve in her silver and pink dress with Nicholas that it finally sunk in: Genevieve was going to prom with a date. And not just a date, a date who was attracted to her. Genevieve was everything Naomi from third grade told her she couldn’t be: pretty, enjoyable, and tall. Suck it, Naomi! Genevieve is heading to a notably outdated country club with a boy, and she is going to dance with him until her new heels give her blisters!

As the slow dance hit of 2015, Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud, played, Nicholas cautiously held Genevieve at arm’s length with his hands on her waist, furthering his middle school dating tactics. In a moment of uncharacteristic gumption, Genevieve pulled Nicholas closer and rested her head on his shoulder. After a moment of gentle swaying, she adjusted her head so their foreheads were pressed together. The couple chose this moment to confide in each other that they had never kissed anyone. When Nicholas asked Genevieve if she wanted to try it, she took the music’s transition to a fast song to pull away and shout, “Maybe later!”

Nicholas and Genevieve stepped outside, a good decision because the cool air stifled the sweat beginning to pool in Genevieve’s palms. Genevieve’s heart was beating out of her chest. As she and Nicholas stared at each other under the twinkle lights that were supposed to make the country club appear more aesthetically pleasing, they decided to go for it. Their first kiss was nothing to write home about. Genevieve now refers to it as an extended peck, closed lips on closed lips for no more than a few seconds. While Genevieve found no pleasure in this, in fact, she was beginning to sweat again and her heart was surely going to burst from her body, Nicholas chose to punctuate the kiss with, “You see it in movies but nothing prepares you for how magical it actually is.” Genevieve could not have agreed less. As Nicholas leaned in again, Genevieve turned her head and asked to sit down before her legs gave out.

As Genevieve sat on the cold stone steps outside the country club, the only thought running through her mind was, “Oh my God, am I a lesbian?”

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