What Happens When

by Samantha Boyette

  “I don’t know. It depends how obvious you were. I liked you from the moment I saw you,” I say.

  “Really?” She laughs softly. “I spotted you as soon as you got there, but I never thought you would talk to me, let alone be into girls. But then we talked.”

  “How did you know?” Curiosity suddenly fills me. Was I obviously gay? Did everyone who saw me know?

  She’s silent a moment before answering. “It was the way you talked to me and how you never pulled away no matter how close I got.”

  “I liked being close to you.”

  “Molly?”

  “Yeah?” I swallow, knowing we are treading close to a danger zone here.

  “When you’re ready, I’m still here.”

  “Okay.” I barely manage to get the word past my dry lips.

  Chapter Ten

  Zia unlocks the door to her small apartment and waves me inside. I’m carrying my backpack and our two carryout bags from the diner. We’re open until ten on Saturdays, so it seemed stupid to try to get food somewhere else after work. I step aside and let her in to turn on the lights.

  The main room is a small kitchen on one side with a table and chairs set in the center. The other side has a worn-looking couch and two armchairs positioned to worship a large flat-screen TV on the wall. The whole room is barely bigger than my living room, but it feels welcoming. It hits me then that there are no parents here. There won’t ever be parents when I’m at Zia’s. It’s a mark of how bad things have been that Mom let me come here. Apparently I seem that desperate for friends.

  “It isn’t much.” Zia says watches me look around. “But it’s cheap.”

  “It’s great.” I set the carry out bags on the table. “When you come to my place you can admire the unicorn border paper.”

  Zia laughs. “Oh, are we starting with the secrets so soon?”

  “No, that was just a free preview.” I grin. “No more until after we eat. I’m starving.”

  “Deal.”

  She turns to the fridge and I start unloading our bags. There is nothing healthy about any of it, and it smells amazing. I set her chicken parm sandwich across the table from my burger and sweet potato fries. I eye her mozzarella sticks but place them by her sandwich.

  “Sangria?” Zia asks, holding up a wineglass full of dark red liquid. “It’s just the boxed crap, but it’s tasty.”

  I hesitate a moment, knowing if Mom finds out I’m drinking here she will never let me come again. But I want the liquid courage in that glass. “Sure.”

  She smiles widely when I accept the drink. “Is this bad? Am I corrupting you giving you alcohol?”

  “Are you even old enough to drink?”

  “Nope, but Tyler is and he knows what I like.”

  My mood dims at the mention of Tyler and I finally ask what I’ve been wanting to know since she invited me over. “Is he coming tonight?”

  I must sound casual enough, because she just shakes her head as she sits. “Nah, he’s got the late shift, so he’ll just head home after. Besides, I said this was a girls’ night, didn’t I?”

  I hold it together as my heart swells. “Oh, I guess I thought he lived here.” I shove a fry in my mouth to cover up my happiness at having her to myself.

  “God no. We’re not that serious. Plus, I don’t think my uncle would love that. He still likes to pretend I’m just a little kid who’s never even thought about sex.” I laugh at that and she leans forward. “So, Molly, are you a virgin?” She takes a long swig of her drink, raising her eyebrows when I don’t immediately respond.

  “No.” I take a drink. “I lost it last year to this guy, Jason Atwood.”

  “And how was it? Mind blowing?”

  “Hardly.” I can’t help but laugh. The wine is already making me feel warm, and talking with Zia is easy. “We tried it a few times and it was totally awkward and we broke up within a month. What about you?”

  She gives me a look that says the answer is obvious. “Uh, I was fifteen when I lost it to Chance Witson. He was the love of my life and we were going to be together forever.” She rolls her eyes and starts in on the sandwich. I love that she has no regard for the mess she makes eating it.

  By the time we finish eating she’s already refilled our glasses and I’m feeling the first drink. We settle into the couch, sitting facing each other with our legs tucked up underneath us. She’s taken her hair down and I want to reach over and run my hand through the golden strands. Instead, I take another sip.

  “When was your first time being drunk?” Zia asks. Her eyes bore into mine, making me squirm in place just so that I can break eye contact.

  “Was? How do you know it isn’t tonight?” She’s silent and I turn to raise an eyebrow at her.

  “No way.” She grins. “No one gets to their senior year without being drunk at least once.”

  “I feel that is a vast overstatement. There are probably plenty of kids who do. Think of all the Amish kids.”

  “Okay, maybe Amish kids, but not you.”

  I smile then, because the wine has warmed me all the way through and this feels a little like flirting. “It was my sophomore year. My brother and I threw a small party when my mom and her boyfriend went to an all-day conference a few hours away.”

  “Brave.” She nods.

  “Stupid, but we didn’t get caught. Mom wasn’t back until like midnight or something, so we got everything cleaned up and were in bed by then.”

  “Are you close with your brother?”

  “What is this, twenty questions?”

  Zia settles lower in the couch, her feet touching my thighs. I’m glad I’m not one of those people who gets weirded out by feet, because I don’t want to move an inch and break the contact.

  “Maybe,” she finally says.

  “Yes, we’re close. Right now he’s about my best friend in school.” I put my feet up on the small coffee table. “Do you have siblings?”

  “An older sister, but we’re not that close. She’s”—Zia squints—“five years older than me and pretty much perfect in every way. She got good grades, went to college, has a good job, blah, blah, blah.” Zia takes a long chug from her glass, emptying it. “Refill?”

  She hops off the couch and I miss having her close. I stand to follow her, then realize that’s a little stupid since she’s only going like five feet away. Instead, I move to look at a framed set of photos hung on the wall. Zia’s in some of them, along with a lot of people I don’t recognize.

  One is of Zia holding a newborn. It’s a beautiful picture. Zia is looking down at the baby, her hair cascading down around them, both looking ethereal. The baby has wide, dark eyes and is actually pretty cute for a newborn. It’s looking up at Zia like she’s explaining all the secrets of the world to it. There are a few more of the baby, older each time until there is one of it crawling.

  “Does your sister have a baby?” I ask.

  Zia tenses for a moment, holding her refilled glass in one hand and the whole box of wine in the other. Recovering, she sets the box on the coffee table and goes back into the kitchen to grab a Bluetooth speaker. I watch quietly as she connects her phone to it and fiddles around to choose music. The longer the silence drags on, the worse I begin to feel. Something is wrong here and I don’t know what.

  Music starts playing, and Zia walks over to where I’m still standing by the pictures. She runs a finger over the picture of the baby crawling and then turns to me. We’re standing close enough that I could lean in and kiss her, but for once that’s far from my mind.

  “I have a baby.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “It was the summer after senior year,” Zia says. We’re back on the couch, sitting right beside each other. Zia’s curled all in on herself. The music is an eclectic mix of songs that seems like the best of everything from the sixties onward. “I got pregnant in August. It was pure stupidity, but that was me back then. I’d gone to a party and ended up hooking up with this guy from out of town.” She sh
akes her head and takes a long sip of wine. “I was so drunk I barely remember doing it. I had a boyfriend, so the next day I just wanted to forget it had ever happened, but when I missed my period I realized that wasn’t going to be possible.”

  “That sucks.” I really don’t know what else to say.

  Zia laughs, short and bitter. “You’re telling me. I hadn’t even had sex with my boyfriend at the time, so I couldn’t even try to say it was his. Needless to say, we broke up.”

  “And your parents?”

  “Oh, they were not happy. There was a lot of ‘your sister would never do anything like this’ and ‘are you trying to ruin your future?’ being said. I felt like I deserved it all, though.”

  “Did you ever think of getting rid of it?” I knew a couple girls in school who were rumored to have had abortions.

  A pained expression flits across her features. “Briefly, but I couldn’t do it.”

  “I don’t think I could either.” I shake my head.

  “I went through an agency and got to pick her parents. It’s this gay couple down in New Jersey. They’re the ones who send me the pictures.” It’s only when she wipes her eyes that I realize she’s been crying silently.

  “I’m sorry for asking.” I pull her into an awkward, one-armed side hug, but she surprises me by leaning in for a full body hug, and I wrap my other arm around her. We sit like that for what feels like the longest, most amazing thirty seconds of my life before she pulls back.

  “Well, now you know my big secret. Tyler doesn’t even know. I’ve never invited him over.” She laughs a little, still wiping at her eyes. “I figured I’d be drunker before I had to tell you that.”

  She just told me something her boyfriend doesn’t even know. Now I have to tell her my secret. I pick up my glass and chug it back in one long gulp. Pulling my feet up on the couch, I rest my chin on my knees and wrap my arms around my legs. Staring at the blank TV screen, I say the words I didn’t plan on saying tonight.

  “The girls at school hate me because they found out I’m a lesbian.” The words come out in a rush that I can barely hear over the pounding of my heart and the blood rushing in my ears. I don’t want to look at her. I think she’ll be okay with it, she did give her kid to a couple gay guys after all, but I’m not sure and that uncertainty makes me feel sick to my stomach.

  Zia puts a hand on my arm and I turn to look at her. “That’s dumb. I’m sorry they’re being so immature.”

  “It doesn’t weird you out?”

  “Me? Why would it? It doesn’t change who you are.”

  I let my feet fall back to the floor and hug her again. This time we’re pressed chest to chest, and I feel so relieved that she doesn’t hate me like Carmen and the girls in school.

  “Told you I was going to get your darkest secrets out tonight,” she says into my hair. I laugh and we pull apart. “Though I got to say I was hoping for something darker.”

  “Well, I’m also an ax murderer.”

  “There we go. See, now that’s exciting.” We smile at each other and she refills our glasses. I’m really drunk and don’t touch the glass.

  “So Tyler’s never been here?”

  “Nope, we go to his house. I told him my uncle doesn’t want me having boys here.” She giggles and I snort. “So, my new lesbian friend, am I attractive?” She stands and does a small twirl, almost falling and nearly spilling her wine. She sits back on the couch and looks at me, lifting first one eyebrow and then the other like they’re doing the wave.

  “Yes,” I say, or really the wine says because it seems to have taken up residence in my brain and is doing my talking for me. “You’re beautiful.”

  “See?” She leans close and puts a hand on my thigh. “This is what I like about lesbian friends. Every word out of their mouths seems so much more honest than when guys say it.” I can smell the sweet wine on her breath, and her hand seems to be searing a hole through my jeans.

  “Are you flirting with me?” I ask it like it’s a joke, but I want it to be true because now that she knows the truth about me it has to be flirting. You don’t touch someone and get that close without it being flirting. She laughs and shoves herself away to stand up.

  A moment later she’s turned up the music and is pulling me off the couch, both our glasses of wine forgotten. “I love this song!” She shouts to be heard. “Let’s dance.”

  So we dance. I’m drunk, so I feel way more coordinated than usual, but she seems to move with a liquid grace I could never imitate. She moves close to me and then far away again. Dancing with her is like trying to hold on to a dream in the morning. The more I try to keep her near me, the more she pulls back, laughing the whole time. The night feels like a dream. I’ve had too much wine and the whole world seems soft around the edges. I’m sure Zia is flirting, but she’s always too far away to pull against me. I don’t care, though, because for the moment I feel like we are the only two people in the world.

  Chapter Twelve

  I still feel half-drunk on Monday. Of course all the alcohol is out of my system by then, but Zia is in deeper than ever. She had to work Sunday but I didn’t, so we barely saw each other that morning. We texted off and on all day, though, and each text from her made my heart swell with excitement.

  Zia: Thanks for last night. I had a blast. <3

  Me: Me too, thanks for sharing.

  Zia: Please, it felt good to tell you. I’m glad you were honest with me as well. Honesty is really important to me.

  Me: I’m nothing if not honest.

  Me: So why haven’t you told Tyler?

  Zia: I don’t know if he’s ready for it. We’re just having fun now. Don’t know that I want to ruin it.

  Me: What about honesty?

  Zia: Touche.

  Me: =)

  Zia: You going be my Jiminy Cricket? ;)

  Me: I’ll be whatever you need.

  Zia: Ooh la la, stop flirting with me.

  Zia: I’m sorry. That was a joke!

  Me: It’s fine. I know you love it.

  Zia: Damn, you caught me lol

  And on and on it went all night until I finally fell asleep. I woke up to find she’d texted me again in the middle of the night.

  Zia: I know you’re probably sleeping, but I was thinking about you. Don’t let those bitches at school get the best of you. You’re an awesome girl and a great friend, so they can all go fuck themselves.

  That made my morning. I was feeling so good that when Lily approached me before lunch and asked if I was coming to the Queer Alliance meeting, I barely hesitated before saying yes.

  When we walked into the cafeteria to get lunch, someone whistled, but neither of us turned to see who it was. We moved down the line together, passing the questionable-looking burgers and both choosing grilled cheese.

  “It’s good that school food is consistently awful. It really makes a new school feel like home,” Lily says.

  I reach for an apple that looks about a week old.

  “You mean they didn’t serve four-star meals at your old school? I’m shocked.”

  Lily grins even wider and hip-bumps me. It’s such a subtly flirty gesture that I’m bumping her back almost before I can think about it. I remember all the texts from Zia and feel bad, almost like I’m cheating on her. That’s insane, of course, since she has a boyfriend, but whatever. Sanity is overrated.

  “Let’s grab Luke.” Lily leads the way over to where he’s sitting with a few other guys. I follow, feeling less sure about all of this as I feel eyes following us through the cafeteria.

  “Hey.” Lily stands over them with her tray. “You coming to the Queer Alliance meeting?”

  Luke, who was leaning back dangerously on two legs of his chair, lets the chair fall forward with a thunk. “Crap, yeah. Thanks for reminding me. I almost forgot.” He gathers up his tray and stands.

  “Dude, are you seriously going to that gay meeting?” his friend Gavin asks.

  Luke pauses, looking down at him.
>
  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Why?” asks Isaac.

  “Well, Isaac, I’m glad you asked that. It’s because my sister is gay and this meeting is for gay people and their friends who support them. If there was a loser meeting, I’d be there to support you guys too.”

  I grin, loving my brother even more. Lily snorts a laugh as the two guys stare up at Luke. He nods to them and turns to follow us out of the cafeteria.

  “Hey, Luke, wait up.” We all stop and turn to see Gavin running after us, one hand tugging up his pants because, despite wearing skinnier jeans than me half the time, he has no butt and his pants always seem to be sliding down.

  “You’re coming?” Luke sounds almost as surprised as I feel. Gavin shrugs. “I like Molly too.”

  “Thanks, Gavin. Your affection means the world to me,” I say.

  We’re a strange group as we hurry through the halls to the classroom the meeting is taking place in. Gavin towers over the rest of us at a little over six foot. He’s biracial with a tan complexion and close-cut curly hair. He’s been Luke’s best friend for years, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he tagged along, but I am. He’s a star basketball player, and I don’t think he’s supposed to go to a Queer Alliance meeting. On second thought, I guess the rest of us make sense together since people still think Lily and I are dating, and Luke is my brother.

  There are a dozen kids in the room when we enter. The school isn’t too big, so I recognize them all even if I don’t know everyone’s names. The desks have all been set up in a circle, so we find seats and wait for the meeting to begin. Mrs. Bianco is the teacher who Lily’s convinced to run the little group, which makes sense since she’s about the nicest teacher in the school.

  “Welcome to the first Queer Alliance meeting,” Mrs. Bianco says after a few minutes go by with no one else joining us. “Lily Wilson is the student organizer of this group, so I’m going to let her do most of the work.” She motions Lily up and we all clap as she sits on her desk behind Lily.