The One Where Everybody is Queer
It’s the sight of those arms that has Lena Luthor walking up to the sunny, smiling blonde in the middle of the university courtyard—sitting with half a dozen other college students, of all shapes and sizes and sexualities—and clearing her throat, her sketchbook pressed against her chest.
The blonde glances up at her and squints and it’s only then that Lena realizes that she’s probably silhouetted by the sun, her face in the shadows. But she can see the blonde’s face perfectly.
Oh god it’s so damn perfect.
She wears glasses over a pair of sky-blue eyes and her hair is almost always in a ponytail or some kind of braid—at least it is whenever Lena spots her across the quad, perpetually lying in the grass with the lesbian couple, who always hold hands or cuddle against one another and laugh with her—and today is no different. Today she has tiny yellow flowers woven in between her braids, making her look like some kind of woodland fairy, her rosy cheeks raised with her smile, her adorable button nose wrinkled slightly as she attempts to squint through the sunlight to find Lena’s face.
Usually, when Lena sees her, the blonde is wearing a sweater or a button-down, or something plaid that always makes Lena’s heart pound faster with hope. Because this girl is gorgeous and, yeah, plaid doesn’t always point to queer, but so often it does and wouldn’t it be just her luck if the girl who wears such queer clothing was actually 100% straight?
Today, however, it’s warm. Today, the blonde’s hair is in a ponytail and she’s wearing a deep blue tank top and a red bandeau underneath and her shorts are cut-offs and Lena can feel her heartbeat in her throat and oh god, she’s been standing here for a really long time not saying anything, hasn’t she. They’re all staring at her now; the lesbian couple and the spiky-haired boy with his maybe-boyfriend, who is in her photography class, and their other two friends, who are tangled up together with books in their hands. They’ve all stopped what they’re doing and they’re staring.
It’s like the first day of high school all over again, when Lena—who had skipped several grades—showed up to a classroom filled with teenagers that were all twice her size. Even the teacher had thought she’d shown up to the wrong school.
Only this was worse. Because she was in college, nearly in her last year, and she had only just turned eighteen a few months ago. Because she had a major crush on the blonde, but more than that, she thought she was beautiful and if she didn’t ask her question now, she might as well evaporate into thin air because it was getting more and more embarrassing by the second and—
“Are you okay, Lena?”
Her eyes widen and her heart skips a beat and her throat threatens to close because
“You know my name?” she blurts before she can stop herself and then she’s blushing as the blonde smiles brightly up at her, because she’s never even bothered to learn her name. She just knows that she’s pretty and blonde and, wow, she knows my name!