In Real Life: My Journey to a Pixelated World Read online

  He looked disappointed, but said we should try and hang out again soon.

  We started texting a lot over the next week. Both of us were busy with work, but when we discovered we both had an upcoming afternoon free, he said we should go see a movie.

  That sounds fun, I wrote. Although what I wanted to write was, “I need to know if this is a date or not!”

  His response: Cool, it’s a date! I mean, it’s a plan. Not a date.

  That didn’t help things at all. I had no idea how to reply to that so I just asked what theater I should meet him at. When I arrived, he was wearing yet another flannel shirt, this one with green and black checks. This guy really loved flannel. He had already paid for the tickets—we were seeing a CIA thriller, Safe House—and we ran inside just as the trailers started. As we sat down, his leg brushed up against mine, but I didn’t move away, and neither did he. I couldn’t concentrate on the movie at all. Instead, I wondered if we were going to hold hands. I kept sneaking glances at him out of the corner of my eye. His profile was lit up by all the action on the screen, but he didn’t look back at me. A darkened movie theater seemed like it might be a cool place for a first kiss, but I decided I didn’t want the experience to happen over a soundtrack of Denzel Washington getting waterboarded. Still, our legs remained touching throughout the whole movie.

  He had to leave right after to get back to work, and we hugged good-bye. I still felt that he was keeping me in the friend zone, but when he asked me the next day to go out to dinner and a movie with him, I knew it was official. I may have been inexperienced, but I knew that you don’t ask someone you just met to dinner and a movie without it being an actual date. It would be my first real date, ever.

  It was rocky from the start.

  Where do you want to get dinner? he texted. Do you like exotic food?

  I don’t. AT ALL. How exotic are we talking? I asked.

  There’s this place called Animal. Google it.

  I’d heard of the restaurant before—it had been getting a lot of press—but when I checked the website, I saw that the menu was full of stuff like chicken liver toast, veal brains with apricot puree, and crispy pig head with bulldog sauce. I was pretty sure that the last ingredient didn’t include any actual bulldog, but based on all the other weird crap they were offering, I didn’t want to take any chances.

  Oh god, I wrote. That might be a little too extreme for me. I just tried oysters for the first time last week.

  Ha, okay. Any other places on your mind?

  Sorry I’m so lame.

  You suck. I’m done. Have a nice life. Enjoy McDonald’s.

  I knew he was just joking, but it still hurt my feelings a little. Fine, I wrote. I will. I love McDonald’s.

  Haha, ok. You pick the place.

  I suggested Rock Sugar, a pan-Asian spot in Studio City at the Westfield Mall. Some friends had recently recommended it, and he agreed.

  That’s when the reality of it all suddenly sunk in: I was going on my very first date, and it was going to be with a guy. There was no going back—I was officially acting on the one thing I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do. And it was something I couldn’t keep to myself anymore. I needed someone to talk to about it, someone who could support me.

  I ended up blurting it out to Cat.

  We hadn’t seen each other in a while, so we made plans to see a movie, and afterward we went to dinner at a little outdoor café near the theater. Once we had ordered our food, she settled back in her chair and looked at me.

  “So, how’s your love life? Anyone you’re interested in?”

  Is it that obvious? I must have been grinning like a lovesick puppy.

  “Tell me!” she said, leaning forward.

  “It’s kind of complicated,” I said, trying to avoid eye contact and fiddling with my fork. There was a long silence and I couldn’t make the words come out of my mouth. Lucky for me, she broke the ice.

  “Are you gay?” she blurted out.

  For the first time in my life, I wasn’t offended by the question. “No, I’m bi . . . I think,” I said. I felt a flood of relief at finally saying it out loud, even though I wasn’t ready to say that I was full-on gay. Bisexual felt safer because it suggested that I was leaving all options for my future open. Baby steps, I thought.

  “Oh my god, that’s awesome!” she squealed. She was practically jumping up and down in her seat. “So you like someone?”

  “I’ve been talking to this guy named Sam that I met through Luke. We have a date. My first. Ever.”

  She squealed some more and demanded to see photos of him on my phone.

  “He’s cute,” she said, thumbing through his Facebook profile. “It’s gonna be great.”

  The next day, I knew it was time to tell Nicole. Now that I’d finally said the words out loud, I needed the kind of reassurance I knew I could only get from someone who’s known and loved me my entire life. Her reaction was pretty much the same as Cat’s. She was so happy that she almost started crying with joy. I was so relieved.

  “Do you realize that this is probably one of the first times you’ve ever been truly open with me about your feelings?” she asked. “You’ve always shied away from expressing what’s really going on in your head. This is such a huge and important step, and I’m so proud of you. I want to hear all about the date afterward!”

  Whitney was next, and she was nothing but supportive too, except for one thing: “I can’t believe you told Cat before me,” she pouted.

  Luke was thrilled for me too. But despite the universal support I was getting, I started having some doubts. I can’t emphasize enough that this was my FIRST DATE EVER, and I had no idea how I was supposed to act while I was on it. I genuinely didn’t know if it would be different from hanging out with a friend. So I did what I always do when I need to know something: I turned to YouTube. Searches for “How to act on a first date” led me to a channel run by two women called The Wing Girls, who offered up all sorts of advice about having your first kiss, like practicing beforehand with your own hand, or the inside of your arm, or on a cantaloupe. I wasn’t about to make out with a melon, so I clicked on another video, “What to Talk About on Your First Date.” Basically it said not to reveal too much, don’t go too deep. I could do that.

  Whitney sent me a text on the afternoon of the date. What are you going to wear? I was too busy to write back because I still had no idea. I had laid out four outfits on my bed to choose from before I showered, so I’d have time to really think about each one while I got cleaned up. I spent a good twenty minutes on my hair, getting my long emo bangs to swoop perfectly across my forehead to the right. I surveyed my clothing options and eventually decided to go casual—a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a tee-shirt.

  I left the apartment really early in case of traffic, but the roads were fine, and I found myself with thirty minutes to kill after I arrived. Since the restaurant was located in a mall, I figured that shopping might help calm me down a little, so I wandered into a nearby Sperry store and quickly got lost in shoe land. I tried on several pairs before narrowing my selections down to two options. One was sea green, the other royal blue. I was staring at the ground, studying them intently when I heard a voice behind me.

  “Go with the green.”

  I turned around and Sam was standing there smiling, dressed in a gray-and-white-striped dress shirt. I silently rejoiced. He didn’t wear flannel! If there had been any lingering doubt as to whether this was a real date, the absence of his usual bro uniform erased it. He reached out and gave me a hug, and my heart felt like it was about to explode out of my chest.

  “The green? You think?” I asked as we separated.

  “Definitely. The other ones are too bright.”

  I paid for the shoes and we headed to the restaurant. We ordered some food and he ordered sake. “Never order it hot,” he told me with a conspiratorial whisper. “It means it’s a crap brand of sake if they serve it that way. Get it cold.”

 
I nodded distractedly as I racked my brain for something light and not too deep to talk about. “Oh, I’ve got that birthday party shoot with your friend tomorrow!” I said.

  “Yeah, I know. I was just texting with him right before I got here,” he said.

  A panicky thought entered my mind. What if they’re still fooling around? The prospect made me feel queasy, but it also reminded me that I still didn’t have the address of where I was supposed to show up the next day. I shot the guy a quick e-mail from my phone under the table and turned my attention back to Sam. I desperately tried to come up with something funny and charming to say, but before I got a chance, he suddenly, out of nowhere, goes: “I can be a pretty controlling person sometimes.”

  I was no expert, but even I knew this was a terrible conversation starter for a first date. But maybe he was just trying to be real and upfront with me. Maybe I was being too old school in my thinking.

  “Really?” I said, not sure how to respond. “Why do you think that is?”

  He didn’t go into specifics. “I don’t like to talk about it,” he said, “but I feel like I’m kind of messed up right now. Sometimes I can’t get out of bed. I never leave the house and just play video games.”

  “I like Mario Kart,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m really good at it!”

  “Video games are actually dangerous for me, though,” he said. “I just spend the entire day staring at the screen, avoiding work.”

  What is wrong with this guy? I thought. Is he trying to murder our date?

  I gave it another shot, trying once more to change the subject. “I saw a preview screening of The Hunger Games a few weeks ago for my teen.com job,” I said. “It’s really good.”

  “I also have OCD. That might be why I always want to control things.”

  I had no idea where to go from there, so I just kept talking about The Hunger Games. The date was turning into an absolute disaster. I was confused. Why was he saying so many negative things about himself? Was he trying to give me some sort of warning, that this was destined to go nowhere?

  The waitress saved me when she took our order, providing enough of a distraction to get him on track talking about normal stuff. “I hear John Carter is awful,” I said, referring to the movie we were going to see later. “But I still want to give it a chance. I’m kind of a sci-fi and fantasy nerd. I actually got in trouble for posting a personal video about The Hunger Games screening I went to. All the reviews were supposed to be embargoed.”

  “Ooh, a rebel,” he laughed, and I relaxed. The conversation stayed pretty light and fun for the rest of dinner. But as I was confirming the movie time on my phone, disaster struck in the form of the check.

  The waitress slid a fake leather billfold containing the slip of paper onto the table and said, “Whenever you’re ready.” It sat there between the two of us, but I refused to break eye contact with Sam. I nodded and laughed at whatever it was he was saying, but internally I was freaking out.

  I had no idea which one of us was supposed to pay.

  The Wing Girls hadn’t covered this at all. I guess I’m old-fashioned because I always assumed that the guy picks up the check. But we were two guys! If I had been taking a girl out on a date, I would have reached for it immediately. And maybe I was just being too heteronormative, but since he had asked me out and he was older, wasn’t he supposed to pay? Plus, well, he was more experienced than I was. It seemed like the gallant thing for him to do. But he hadn’t made a single move to reach for it, and even though he was in the middle of a story I couldn’t concentrate on a thing he said. That little billfold was taunting me. This is absurd, I told myself, and just as I resolved to pick it up and pay, he slid his credit card out and handed it, along with the check, to the passing server.

  I was so flustered that I don’t even remember if I said thank you. I think I did. I hope I did.

  I decided to make up for it by paying for the movie tickets. As soon as we got to the theater across the mall, I started to walk faster. “Don’t worry, I got these!” I said.

  “Wait, hang on a second,” he called out just as I reached the ticket counter. “My boss is calling me.” He waved me over, so I walked slowly back.

  He had his back to me but it sounded like he was arguing about something. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

  I looked at my phone. It was almost 10:00 p.m.

  Sam shoved his phone in his pocket and turned back to me. “Aw, man, I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

  “What happened?”

  “My boss is making me go home and work on some stuff.” He looked off into the distance.

  “Can’t you use your phone to do it?” I hinted.

  “No, I need my computer.” He met my eyes for a second before quickly looking away again, like he felt guilty.

  I waited for a few seconds before saying anything to see if he was going to invite me along to hang out while he did whatever he needed to do. Was I being ditched? Oh no, I thought. Was he faking that phone call? What if it’s because I didn’t pay for dinner? But I was about to make up for it! I would have gotten popcorn too!

  “That sucks,” I finally said when he didn’t say anything more. “He really won’t let you do it tomorrow?”

  “No, I gotta go. Hey, where did you park?”

  “The garage, ground level,” I mumbled.

  “I’m up on the fifth. Can you give me a ride to my car?”

  “Sure,” I said, and gave him a big fake smile. I had to pretend that I didn’t mind he was leaving, but I was bummed out. I genuinely had no idea if I was getting dumped or if he was being legit with me, but I couldn’t just come right out and ask. If I did and it turned out this was some sort of real work emergency, I’d look like a whiney weirdo. I had to take the high road and act like this was no big deal, when inside I was dying. Aside from all his early talk about what a mess he was and then my stress about the check, I actually thought the date was going relatively well.

  We got to my car, and I drove him to his in silence.

  “Right there,” he said, pointing to a red Mini Cooper as we rounded a corner.

  “Okay, well, bye,” I said.

  I turned to look at him and he started to lean in. Oh hell no, I thought. I am not wasting my first kiss on some guy who’s skipping out on our first date. I turned my head far from his face and gave him a hug instead, but at least it was a close one so that our cheeks brushed together.

  “Hope everything is okay with work,” I said.

  “It’ll be fine. Enjoy your new shoes!” he said as he slammed the door behind him.

  The shoes. Damn it. After all that, I’d left them in the restaurant. All I wanted to do was go home and wallow in my disappointment, but I had to go back and collect them.

  Sam texted me a photograph of the outside of the restaurant the next day, with a message that said, I liked it so much, I’m already back! J/K, just driving past.

  I didn’t hear from him again for three months. I also never heard anything back from his photographer friend about our photo shoot that day. I had cleared my whole schedule for it, but the guy Sam used to fool around with never replied about where I was supposed to go. I sent two more e-mails the day it was supposed to happen and finally gave up around noon.

  I grew paranoid that Sam had talked crap about me. Yeah, I could practically hear him saying. And he didn’t even offer to split the check! Let alone pay for the whole thing.

  Not only had I been ditched during my first date ever, it looked like maybe I had lost a job over it too. I didn’t want to let it get me down—I was really proud of myself for even getting the courage up to go out with a guy—but the double blow made me question whether dating was even worth the time. Maybe I’d be better off alone.

  Cool Websites Dedicated to the LGBTQ Experience

  Hrc.org. The Human Rights Campaign is the biggest civil rights organization devoted to equality for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people. Its website lists the campaigns
it is currently working on in your state and tells you what you can do to get involved.

  Splcenter.org. The cool thing about the Southern Poverty Law Center is that it doesn’t just fight against bigotry against the LGBTQ community. It works for any group that’s discriminated against. The center has a staff of lawyers with the power to help change laws and maintains a huge database of hate groups to watch out for.

  Thetrevorproject.org. If you ever have feelings about harming yourself, go to this website immediately. It has an awesome crisis intervention and suicide prevention hotline for LGBTQ youth and lots of educational resources for grown-ups and kids.

  Itgetsbetter.org. Visibility is an important part of the LGBTQ movement. Seeing people tell stories about themselves that mirror your own experiences can make a colossal difference when you’re struggling with self-doubt about your sexuality.

  Lambdalegal.org. If you are being discriminated against because of your sexuality or gender identity, reach out to Lambda Legal. Its help desk can provide all sorts of legal advice so that you know your rights.

  Dating 101: How to Deal with a Lull in the Conversation

  1. Acknowledge the awkwardness: Saying something like, “Aren’t first dates weird?” will probably relieve the tension for both of you. Then you can unite in making fun of the whole experience.

  2. Don’t be scared to ask a totally random question, even if it sounds weird—something like: “Where would you live if you could live anywhere in the world?” The answer will probably be revealing.

  3. Ask the other person if he or she watches my videos. And if this person is a hater, dump him or her immediately!

  4. DON’T text at the table. It’s rude on a first date. If you’re desperate for quick advice, excuse yourself to the bathroom and text your friend there.

  5. Favorite movies are always a safe bet. You might get into a lively debate about whether Mockingjay really should have been split up into two movies.