But she didn’t sound so certain. “And now?”
“Well … what if I was wrong? What if I betrayed queer women by doing that? Even if it was for me, and I didn’t give a shit what those guys thought, wasn’t I still basically reinforcing the idea that my sexuality is just there to get a guy off? I mean, think of the crap people say about bi girls only wanting attention.”
Oof. On the one hand, I felt like, as a guy, it wasn’t really my place to give my thoughts. But on the other hand, I could see why she wanted to ask a gay person for advice on this one. I went slowly, and picked my words carefully. “I think if that’s how you felt safe exploring your sexuality, that’s valid. It’s not always black and white for us.”
Lara was silent for a long time. “She’s never kissed me alone,” she said finally.
I thought about how much that must hurt. How crushed I would be if Will only kissed me for someone else’s entertainment. Even if he was only pretending that was why he was doing it.
The space between Lara and me felt heavy.
“Anyway,” Lara waved a hand right through the blanket of unease. “Screw that. I don’t exist for any guy’s pleasure, and I’m not playing that game anymore. If Renee wants to kiss me, she can do it one on one. And she can do it single.”
“Yes.”
“Come on,” Lara said. “We need to get back inside and show those two we can have plenty of fun without them. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you use me as a pole dancing prop, and you can show Will up.”
I burst out laughing at that, and stood up. “All right. Let’s do it.”
18
Sunday, 1:51 AM
Meet me in the lake. By the end of
the jetty, to the right of your house.
He meant by the lake, right? In had to be a typo, didn’t it? It was 2 A.M. He was lucky I woke up when he texted me.
But there was no one standing on the jetty. There was, however, a pile of clothes barely visible at the end of it.
I stole a quick glance around to make sure I was definitely, certainly, totally alone, and hurried along the jetty. Way to make me feel exposed, Will.
He was treading water just beyond the edge of the jetty, a small, stark face smiling up at me from the black lake. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Perfect night for a swim, isn’t it?”
“Don’t you have to drive home in four hours?” I asked. We’d already forced our way through our good-byes. I’d spent the night sulking, and hoping I’d see him again, and coming to terms with the fact that I most likely never would.
“I’m not the one in the driver’s seat. I can nap then. I wanted to see you again.”
“Will…”
“Come in.”
“But it’s dark,” I whined.
“I won’t let anything eat you. I promise.”
I hesitated. For nobody but him. I swear, nobody in this world but Will would be able to convince me to strip down and plunge into an icy, dark lake of death during the freaking witching hour.
But I did it, didn’t I?
As soon as I was in the water, his arms were around my shoulders, and his lips were on mine. He kissed me like he’d never get the chance to do it again. And that’s damn well how I kissed him back.
“Screw tomorrow,” I managed, when I pulled away.
“It’s gonna come, whether you want it to or not.”
“I know. And you’ll be gone, and you’ll forget all about me in a few weeks.”
Will laughed and shook his head. “I’ll definitely never forget you. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. That won’t vanish just because we’ll be—”
“On opposite sides of the country.”
“It could be worse. You could live in, like, Australia or something.”
“I might as well.”
He kissed me again. Good-bye kiss number seventy-six. “Promise me we’ll find a way to see each other again.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Then lie. Please.”
Will and I didn’t exchange a word until music class the next day.
He gave me a small smile when he sat down next to me. Like he was hoping I might act like everything was fine, and the dance hadn’t happened. “Hey,” he whispered.
Hey.
I was seething.
“I don’t want to see you anymore,” I whispered back.
He looked at me with the expression of someone who’d been told their new puppy had been brutally murdered. Just as he collected himself to try to respond, class started, and he slumped back in his seat with a clenched jaw. He stayed like that until Ms. Ellison paused to hand out some booklets she’d made. Then, still looking at the front of the class as casual as anything, he said under his breath, “Please don’t do this.”
I ignored him.
“Ollie.”
I ignored him.
“I’m so sorry. I feel really awful about last night.”
Not awful enough to call me, or pull me aside and explain, or to not do it in the first place.
“Can we talk about this later?”
I ignored him.
When the bell rang, I continued to ignore him, and managed to storm off to my next class without Will being able to do much in the way of begging. Made partly more effective by the fact that Will couldn’t say a word where anyone else could hear, and school halls weren’t conducive to privacy. At lunchtime, I was strategic, and used this to my advantage by going to the cafeteria instead of the music room so he couldn’t get me alone.
I’d expected the basketball guys to sit with us, especially after Niamh and Darnell’s consummation of sorts last night, but the roses had our table to ourselves today.
“It’s because Darnell and I had a … talk last night,” Niamh said once all three of us had sat down. “I told him I’m moving to New York next year.”
“And?” Lara asked.
“And, I think he had this picture of us staying here and raising a little family one day or something. He said he’s never wanted to live in a big city. So, honestly, I don’t know where we stand. I know he doesn’t want to come with me next year, but we haven’t really decided to call it quits, either. We’re in limbo.”
“Betwixt and between,” I said. “That’s the worst.”
“Is that a poem?” Niamh asked.
“Darnell is an idiot,” Lara said, pointing a french fry menacingly at Niamh. “Besides, the problem isn’t the city. If he got a job offer there I bet you he’d move in a heartbeat. He’s just intimidated by the thought of following around a strong woman while she chases her career instead of the other way around.”
“Preach!” said Niamh, raising her Diet Coke in a toast.
“I think the dance might have been cursed,” I said. Niamh nodded earnestly.
Lara gave us withering glances. “Um, the opposite, you mean? The dance cleansed us of the toxic baggage we were dragging around with us. Now we’re all available, unattached, and no longer bogged down by immature parasites leeching love from us and not giving back anything more substantial than a lackluster quickie in a storage closet.”
“You and Renee had a quickie in a storage closet?” I asked.
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“I don’t think it is.”
“Well, all the established figures of speech are so overdone.”
“Yeah, that’s what makes them figures of speech. If they’re not overdone, they’re just something someone said one time.”
“Ollie,” Lara said sweetly, “you can be really irritating sometimes. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Other than myself? Nope.”
The bad news was that the rose-gold dagger necklace I had around my neck wasn’t enough to ward off a Lara attack. The good news was that this was probably the most I’d ever spoken at the lunch table. I felt more comfortable than usual, too.
Maybe the night before hadn’t been a total write-off, then.
Will messaged me
to meet him in the parking lot again, but I had no intention of doing that. I made a beeline for my car as soon as I left the building.
Footsteps smacked on the ground behind me as I put my hand on the car door. “Ollie, wait, please.”
He just could not let this go, could he? Honestly, I’d thought I’d get out of here without having to deal with him, given how crowded the parking lot was right now. With students spilling out left, right, and center, I’d have put all sorts of bets down that Will wouldn’t risk chasing me down.
But here he was, chasing me down.
“At least talk to me,” Will said. “Let me explain.”
“You don’t need to,” I said. “Lara told me. The guys found the photo of me on your phone.”
“Right.”
“Right,” I said. “So unless there’s something really, really convincing that I don’t know, there’s nothing else to explain.”
Will looked befuddled. “But then you have to know it wasn’t personal, right? I had to throw them off.”
“You didn’t have to do anything.”
Will looked around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear. “Can we get in the car?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes and jumped into the driver’s seat, slamming the door. Will followed after me on the passenger side, with less slamming. “Ollie, if I didn’t, they would’ve been suspicious about us,” he said once he’d closed his door. “Matt would never let me live it down, he’d be after me every time I ever hung with you, like at lunch, or outside school, or—”
“And so what? Let him think what he wants. It’s not like he has proof.”
“You don’t get it.”
“Oh, don’t I?” I asked. “Do I not have any idea what it’s like to be gay?”
“You,” he said over me, “came out in fucking California. I’m not saying it wasn’t hard for you, but you have no idea what it’s like to grow up here. I knew, like, ten gay jokes before I even knew what being gay was. My friends would never be able to accept it, okay? Do you think Matt will suddenly go out and buy an Ally T-shirt?”
“Just say it’s not like that, then! You don’t need to get with a girl to prove there’s nothing going on with me.”
“They’re always, always digging, Ollie. I told you how they used to joke about you, right? You don’t know the half of it. You aren’t friends with them. You don’t know what they’re really like.”
“But that’s the point,” I said. “I’m not friends with them. But they’ve been friends with you for ages. They know you. They like you.”
“Exactly. It’s different for you, because they haven’t known any other version of you. You’re wearing a fucking necklace right now, and no one’s said shit. It’s, like, your thing. But it’s not my thing. My thing is being a basket-baller, and being one of the guys. You think I’d get away with coming to school tomorrow wearing a necklace with a pendant on it?”
“Look,” I said. “I get why you’re scared, honestly. Of course you are. Coming out is scary, and—”
“I’m not ready to come out!” he shouted.
“I am not asking you to,” I said, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. “But if I’m with someone, yeah, I fucking expect that they aren’t going to go dirty dance with someone else to prove a point, or insult the way I dress or act in front of their friends.”
“I said I’m sorry!”
“I don’t care if you’re sorry! I didn’t want an apology. I wanted you to think of me, and care about how I’d feel, before you did something horrible. But you didn’t. So how can I keep doing this if I know the thought of breaking my heart isn’t enough to stop you from doing something no one is forcing you to do?”
“I did it so we can keep hanging out without—”
“No, no, don’t try to act like last night was for my benefit. Why don’t you just admit last night was one hundred percent about you being terrified someone might figure things out, and zero about me?”
“So what if it was?” Will asked. “Am I not allowed to be scared?”
“Of course you are. But that’s the problem. If you’re so worried about what people might think that you need to do shit like that as a response? How am I supposed to be with someone who could do that to me?”
Will folded his arms and shook his head. Apparently he had no reply. Which only incensed me more.
“You treat me like dirt. You’ve noticed that, right? And every time you apologize, I think it’ll be different this time, but it’s never different. You genuinely do not seem to give a shit about whether I’m okay.”
“That’s not true—”
“It’s true, Will! I would never do something I knew would hurt you. Not to save myself from embarrassment, or to throw people off my tracks, or anything. I just wanted that from you.”
“I didn’t—”
“I just wanted you to care,” I cried. My throat felt clogged up, and I knew I’d start crying any second now, so I chose anger. Better than sadness. And hurt. “But you didn’t, and you don’t. So, get the fuck out of my car and leave me alone.” He paused for a while, and I shoved my key in the ignition. “I said get out of my car. I need to go babysit the kids. I’m already late.”
He nodded. Silently, blinking, he climbed out of my car and walked across the parking lot with his arms still folded tightly across his chest. A junior accidentally stopped in front of him, and Will shoved his way past with way more force than he needed to, lowering his head as he went.
And so, Will and I commenced operation: silent treatment.
It was hard to say who was ignoring who, because we both put our best effort into pretending we had no idea who the other was. No texts, no eye contact, no speaking in class. It was too late for him to move desks in Music Appreciation, but he pettily started sitting as far to one side of it as he could, with his back turned at a slight angle so he didn’t even have to see me in his peripheral vision.
It wasn’t so bad during lunch, at least, as Darnell suddenly didn’t seem to want anything to do with Niamh, so the basketball guys kept to their own table. Which sucked for Niamh, but it was hard to feel too sorry for her, because I was too relieved I didn’t have to field awkward silences from Will when all I wanted to do was eat a chicken panini in peace.
When Juliette had come back to school, high on life after nailing her audition at the Conservatory, she’d said it was like walking into the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust. “How did all three of you get into this much drama in the two days I was off school?” she’d asked when we finished filling her in during homeroom.
But we adjusted to the absence of the guys quickly enough, and after a couple of weeks we’d settled into a new vibe. A we-don’t-need-any-men (except Ollie, he’s all right) vibe. And everything was fine. You know, not epically great or anything, but fine. Right up until the day Juliette started sobbing into her cheeseburger at lunch, plumb out of nowhere.
Lara looked mildly alarmed at the sudden display of emotion, and Niamh and I sprang into action right away.
“Oh my God, what’s wrong, honey?”
“Hey, what’s up? You all good? Nah, you’re not all good; why’d I even ask that? What happened?”
Juliette buried her face in her hands and gave a frustrated, sobby groan. “I didn’t want to talk about this. I thought I was fine.”
“Yeah, fine as a man who’s been gently corrected on the internet,” Lara said, crossing one leg over the other.
Juliette peeked through her fingers. “I got a rejection letter yesterday.”
I blanched. “From the Conservatory?”
She nodded.
“Oh no. Shit.”
“I thought you said the audition went well?” Niamh asked.
“I thought it did! It was the best I’d ever played. The best I’d ever played, and it still wasn’t good enough.” With that, she broke down in tears again, and I shuffled my chair around so I could awkwardly pat her back.
“Those schools are so select
ive,” I said. “Honestly, Valentina probably could’ve gotten rejected from half of them.”
“She would not. She could get in anywhere because she’s amazing, and I suck, and I’m going to be stuck here.”
“Did you apply to any other schools?” Niamh asked quietly.
Juliette shrugged at the table. “I applied to Juilliard, but I didn’t even get an audition. And also NC State.”
“I didn’t know they had a good music program,” I said.
“They don’t. It was supposed to be my backup school. Like, worst-case scenario. But I didn’t … think that would actually happen.”
I was crushed on her behalf. It didn’t make any sense to me. Juliette loved the clarinet, and she was so talented and passionate and dedicated. How could it be over? Just like that?
Lara suddenly looked taken aback, but not in regards to Juliette. She was looking at something behind me. I turned around just in time to see Renee swoop in like a witch without a broom, brandishing a phone instead of a wand inches from my head. “Lara, seriously, enough.”
Juliette, Niamh, and I exchanged wary glances, while Lara stuck out her bottom lip to plead ignorance. “Enough what?”
“Texting me, and calling me, and asking me to hang out. You need to get a hobby or something.”
Underneath Lara’s defiant nonchalance, there was a hint of confusion. “I don’t know what you—”
“There is nothing going on between us,” Renee said, far more loudly than she needed to. She glanced behind her, and I looked back to see her boyfriend watching from a few tables over. All at once, it made sense. This was a show, put on for his benefit. “How much clearer can I make myself?”
Lara’s mouth dropped open, and I wondered if Renee had made even the slightest attempt to be clear about that before this moment. “Wait, so are you saying you don’t wanna get married?” Lara asked, sarcasm mode officially activated. “This is so out of nowhere.”
“I’m sorry, Lara, but I’m straight, okay? I don’t think of you like that. At all. You’ve got the wrong idea.”
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