She breaks the kiss and pulls back just enough so we can focus on each other. “I don’t know what this is, but I don’t want it to stop. Please just let me enjoy it a little more.”
“Okay.” I say it even though it’s almost painful, but I would do anything to be close to her.
Chapter Twenty-six
“You’re being an idiot.” Luke says from my doorway.
I roll my eyes and spin in my chair to look at him. “Are we really having this conversation again?”
“Yes.” He steps into the room. For the first time in a long time, I want to make him leave. He pads across the room in his mismatched socks to lean against my desk. “We’re going to keep having it until you realize I’m right.”
“I really don’t have time for this.” I lean over my homework. He puts one big hand over it.
“Lily is really upset.”
“Blame your stupid friend,” I say.
“All right, maybe Gavin shouldn’t have brought it up. But it’s still you who’s acting like an idiot.”
I throw down my pen and scoot my chair back. “Since when are you so into my love life?”
“Since you started having a real one. You never cared about any of the guys you dated. Everyone could see that.” The words stung and I crossed my arms. “You care about Lily. I can see it every time we’re all together.”
“Yeah, I like Lily a lot. She’s a good friend. That doesn’t mean I want to date her.”
“It probably would if you weren’t so hung up on Zia. Molly, she has a boyfriend.”
“Okay. I’m seriously not listening to one more word about this.” I stand up and start shoving him toward the door. I know he could stand his ground, but he lets me push him out the door with only a token amount of effort.
I close the door behind him and twist the thumb lock. We’re not really allowed to lock our doors, but if he barges back in I might lose it. I glance at my homework, but my head isn’t in it anymore. Instead, I pick up my phone off my bed. I sit on the floor, leaning against the bed, and flip through pictures of Zia and me. We look like we could be a couple in some of them. In others we look like best friends. I think about posting a few to Instagram, but I know that would be stupid. I text Zia.
Me: Miss you
Her reply comes faster than I expected and it makes me smile.
Zia: Miss you! Sneak out? ;)
Me: I wish. Lots of homework.
Zia: Boo. We okay?
Me: I guess
Zia: It was hard to leave you earlier. I wanted to keep “talking.”
Me: I got the impression you don’t like talking.
Zia: Don’t be like that. We’re having fun, remember?
Me: Yeah, yeah. Tyler still there?
Zia: Would I invite you over if he was?
The phone rings before I can reply and I pick it up without thinking, expecting it to be Zia.
“Hey.” I know I sound grumpy, but I can’t help it. I want to be grumpy with her for being so flirty one minute and undecided the next.
“Hi.”
My stomach drops when I realize it’s Lily. “Oh, hey.” I sit up straight. She doesn’t say anything, so finally I speak again. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to say sorry about earlier. I overreacted and said some really mean things.”
I put a hand to my head, because I’m an asshole and Lily has no reason to talk to me again, let alone apologize. “Lily, you have nothing to apologize for. I should have told you what happened.”
“No, you have no reason to. We’re just friends and I know you don’t feel the same way about me as I feel about you. I was being selfish.”
I’m being selfish. I’m the one who doesn’t want you to date Dani but won’t give up Zia for you. I don’t say any of that, but I think it.
I sigh. “I feel like my whole life is nothing but repeating conversations lately. This one is going to be me telling you I really like you as a friend and then you’re going to say we can just be friends, then. I’m going to be happy about that, but inside you’re still going to be a little sad. Is that about right?”
There’s a long pause on the phone before she answers. “Yeah, that’s about it.”
“All right, we’ll pretend we’re done with that, then.” I feel like I should hang up, but I don’t want to stop talking to her. “Did anyone finish hanging up the posters?”
“Yeah, we got them all up. Now I guess we’ll see if anyone is interested.”
“Or if we’ve made even bigger targets of ourselves?”
Lily laughs, but it doesn’t have much heart to it. “Exactly.”
“Carmen will probably lose it when she sees it tomorrow.”
“I’m actually kind of looking forward to that,” Lily says.
I smile. This is why I can’t give up being friends with Lily. Most people would be scared of Carmen after the paint incident, but she’s looking forward to pissing her off. I just hope she knows what she’s getting into.
Chapter Twenty-seven
By lunch, I’m hearing it in the halls, low mutters about the fund-raiser. Carmen laid low after her suspension, but I guess the posters were too much for her.
“Gays taking over our school.”
“So fucking gross.”
“We should start a petition.”
It would be super annoying, except I’m also hearing another kind of muttering in the hallways, and it’s louder than the negative.
“Did you read about that kid?”
“I signed up.”
“Should we check out the club?”
Each time I hear someone say something nice in the halls, I want to hug them. I see Emma laughing and hanging with the same girls I’ve always seen her with and it’s a relief. Still, Carmen didn’t get the memo that kindness is the new word at our school.
“I bet you think you’re real cute with this little homoerotic dance party, don’t you?” Carmen slams my locker. I barely manage to pull my fingers clear. This new trick of hers is already getting old.
“Homoerotic?” I raise an eyebrow on her. “I told Luke we shouldn’t put that on the posters.” I turn to open my locker again, doing my best to ignore her and her stupidity.
“I don’t know what happened to you, Molly. You used to be better than all this.”
I look at her, resisting the urge to let my mouth hang open. Is she actually playing the “we used to be friends” card? She’s still the same beautiful girl I was friends with most of my life, but the last few weeks have made her ugly to me. All of a sudden I notice something so obvious that it makes me blink.
“You colored your hair.”
Her dad has always been dead set about her not coloring her hair. Carmen always acted like she was okay with that, but I knew she envied the girls with perfectly golden blond hair. That was the color she’d gone with and it suited her, brightening her skin.
Carmen’s hand goes to her hair as if she didn’t know it was different. “I needed a change. Cecily suggested it.” Cecily is her pushy older sister who always has something to say about Carmen’s looks.
“It’s nice, but I liked your natural color more.” I open my locker and exchange books.
Carmen sneers. “I don’t really care what you think. I don’t need some dirty lesbian hitting on me and telling me how to do my hair.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.” I shut my locker. “I was just trying to be nice. Remember being nice?”
Carmen steps forward, getting right up in my face. I don’t step back. “You shouldn’t even be here. You and your friends are making this place dirty.”
I scoff. “Dirty? God, what decade do you think this is? Wake up, Carmen. Being queer or not is no different than being religious or not.”
Carmen shoves me hard into the locker. I wince as my shoulder hits. We’ve been having our own private face off, but her shove gets people’s attention. I rub my shoulder, watching her carefully.
“It is so not the same thing.” Carmen is
seething. I knew she would be, but I said it anyway.
“I think it is. Plus, doesn’t your God talk about loving everyone? Didn’t he make me a lesbian?”
“He has nothing to do with you being gay. That’s you giving into sin.”
I’m vaguely aware of the circle of people around us now. I wonder how many of them are on my side and how many of them are on Carmen’s.
I shake my head. “You sound so unbelievably stupid right now.”
Carmen shoves me again. This time I reach out and wrap my hands in her newly golden blond hair. I tug, forcing a squeak of pain from her. She kicks me in the shin and I tug harder, pulling her head toward the lockers. In seconds we’re tangled together, her hands in my hair, twisting and pulling strands out. I switch tactics, digging my nails into her arms in an attempt to make her let go. When that doesn’t work I shove her hard into the lockers, forcing her breath out of her.
“Molly!” Luke says. I feel hands tugging me back. He has me by the arms.
Carmen puts a hand to her hair, pulling free hair that I loosened. “You pulled out my hair, bitch.”
“Good, you’d look better bald.” I strain against Luke. I want to slam Carmen’s stupid head into the lockers a few more times.
Carmen straightens up, giving me a pleased smile. “Thanks for showing everyone what an angry dyke you really are.”
I stop struggling and look around. Carmen looks at the crowd as well, and her smile starts to fade. She expects them to nod in agreement, but most of them are shaking their heads and backing away.
“You’re going too far with this,” one kid says.
“She’s right about you being stupid,” another person says.
A guy I barely know looks right at me. “I’m signing up for the dance.” He glances at Carmen and walks to the nearest poster. He adds his name. A half dozen kids line up behind him and add their names.
“Say what you want to me. I’m not worrying about your small-minded opinion.” I shake my head at Carmen. I pick up my bag and follow Luke down the hall.
“You’re a total badass.” Luke grins at me when we’ve turned the corner. “And you are so lucky no teachers caught that fight.”
I grin widely at him. “I feel pretty badass. Did you see all those people signing up for the dance? We have to tell Lily.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I have a feeling this story is going to spread through the school before lunch is over. You made Carmen look like an idiot back there.” Luke shakes his head. “I can’t believe you brought God into it.”
“It’s true, though.”
Luke shrugs. “I guess so. You went to church with her way more than I did.”
We enter the cafeteria feeling like returning heroes. He’s right, people are already talking about the fight. I wonder how many of the onlookers ran back here to report it. Lily is grinning from ear to ear when I sit down beside her.
“Did you really just have a fight with Carmen?”
“Yep.”
“I so love you right now.” She hugs me and I hug her back without thinking, too worked up to worry about what sort of signals I’m giving her. I half want to kiss her in the middle of the cafeteria just to show everyone I can.
“I am so sad I missed it,” Maria says from across the table. “No teachers saw?”
“Nope. I think I’m clear. It isn’t like Carmen is going report it.”
“If she does, there are plenty of people who saw her shove you first.” Luke steals a fry from Maria’s plate.
Conversation continues and I pull my phone from my bag and text Zia.
Me: Totally just put the smackdown on that girl Carmen who’s been harassing me.
Zia: Oh yeah?
Me: Yup =)
Zia: So Tyler can’t hang this afternoon. Want to come over?
Me: I’d leave right now if I could.
Zia: I’ll pick you up after school.
I grin and slip my phone back in my back. This day couldn’t get any better.
Chapter Twenty-eight
I sit on Zia’s couch, my head already buzzing from two glasses of wine. I’m pretty sure she’s had more. The first one was to celebrate my defeat over Carmen. I’m not sure about the others. She pours herself another glass, but I wave off her offer to refill mine.
“My mom will skin me alive if she figures out I’m drinking. It will also be the last time I see you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want that.” Zia leans over to kiss me. The music changes and she pulls away, smiling widely. “I love this song. Do you remember it?”
I don’t, but I don’t want to say that, so I only nod. Zia sets her glass on the coffee table, bobbing her head as she moves to turn up the volume. She hesitates in front of the pictures of the daughter she gave up. When she reaches out to touch one, I stand up.
She jumps when I wrap my arms around her waist, but then relaxes against me. It feels so natural that I never want to let go. The vanilla scent of her fills my senses and I bury my face in her hair, kissing her neck.
“I wonder about her sometimes,” Zia says softly.
“I bet.” I rest my chin on her shoulder. “What about?”
“If she’s happy.”
“She looks happy.”
“If they tell her about me.” Zia shrugs and I lift my chin. She turns in my arms to face me. It’s wrong to want to kiss someone who looks so sad. She tugs her hair back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and then puts her hands on my shoulders, leaning in to kiss my nose.
I smile. “Did they meet you? Because if they did I’m sure they tell her about you. You’re unforgettable.”
Zia doesn’t smile. “That’s kind of what I worry about. Do they tell her about the stupid teenage girl who got pregnant without meaning to?”
I look at her in surprise, almost unable to believe she could think they would say one bad word about her. “They probably wanted that baby more than anything else in the world, and you gave her to them. I don’t think they’ll ever say a bad thing about you.”
Zia rolls her eyes and pulls away from me, retrieving her glass of wine. “You make it sound so simple, but you have no idea how much it hurt to give her up.”
I step hesitantly toward the couch, not sure what is going on. “You’re right, I don’t know how much it hurt. I have a pretty good idea, though. I’m not trying to say you shouldn’t wonder.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“I’m sorry.” I want to reach for her, but I’m afraid she’ll shrug me away.
Nodding to herself, Zia takes a long swallow from her wine. With hardly a breath in between, she takes another swallow, finishing the glass. Only then does she turn and take my hand. She sits on the couch and pulls me down so I straddle her.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She pushes my hair behind my ears and tugs me down into a kiss.
I’m unsure at first. I want to pull away and tell her we need to talk about this since it’s obviously weighing heavy on her mind. Then her fingers are running down my arms and around my waist and I want to escape with her.
The loud knock on the door surprises both of us. I slide off her to the couch, wiping at my mouth. My hands go to my hair, checking to make sure it isn’t a mess. She sways as she walks to the door, the heels of her boots clicking over the kitchen linoleum. She looks at me over her shoulder a moment before opening the door.
“Hey, babe.” Tyler leans in to kiss her cheek. “I ended up getting out early, so I figured we still had time to hang.” He leans in again. “Did you use a different shampoo?”
Without thinking I lean my face into my hair. It smells like vanilla instead of the coconut scent of my shampoo. I wonder if her hair smells like mine should. Luckily, Tyler doesn’t notice me on the couch until after.
“Oh, hey.” His smile fades a little and he looks at Zia. “I guess you made other plans?”
“Just hanging out.” Zia shrugs. Tyler notices the slight slur.
“Have yo
u been drinking?” His gaze goes from her to me.
“Maybe a little.” Zia smiles over at me. I want to sink into the couch.
“Zia, it’s barely four in the afternoon.”
“So?” Zia shrugs and leaves him to sit by me on the couch. I feel a moment of joy before she speaks again. “Molly wanted to celebrate.”
“Great, so you’re getting teenagers drunk too?”
“I am a teenager.” Zia giggles. “Or did you forget that I’m not even twenty yet?”
“It’s hard to forget when you’re acting so immature.”
“Maybe I should go.” Seeing Tyler mad is unnerving. He’s always been so happy anytime I saw him. I start to stand.
“No, stay with me.” Zia catches my hand, pulling me back to the couch and wrapping her fingers with mine. I glance at our hands, feeling guilt ooze through me.
I don’t know if Tyler senses my guilt, but his eyes linger on our hands. “Is there something going on here I should know about?”
I start to sweat, but Zia only lets go of my hand and rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, Tyler, she’s my underage lover. Can’t you tell?” She stands up, grabbing her wineglass. “Don’t be gross. She’s just a friend who happens to be a lot more fun than you most of the time.”
She opens the fridge and begins to fill the glass. Tyler is watching me. I hope my completely overwhelmed face doesn’t look too guilty. Part of me wishes Zia had told him the truth. Or told it in a way that didn’t sound like a joke. That might have ended with him punching me, though, so I guess I get why she didn’t.
Tyler stops looking at me. “I don’t think you need another glass.”
“I don’t really care what you think.” Zia lifts her glass to him and drinks.
“I’m really going to go.” I stand, edging toward the door.
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