She smiled. “You’re so nice to me,” she said. “I love you.”
I know how she meant it; I knew how she meant it. She had only ever said those words in one specific language. But there was the wine. The liquor. She was so close.
The back of my head pleaded, No, don’t, you can’t, no, you’ll ruin—
I closed the distance between us and kissed her.
Her lips were as soft as they looked. Softer. All of her was soft, her hair, her nose, her arm under my neck, her other hand resting carelessly on my waist. She kissed me back. She tasted like I tasted, like Oreos and pinot noir. I felt simultaneously outside my body and wholly under its command. Something treacherous inside me was shrieking in need.
I took a breath, and she pulled away.
Dread rolled over me like a thundercloud.
She sat up and touched her lips and started laughing.
“Oh shit,” she said. “That was weird. Do you think that counts as cheating?”
I was speechless.
“Jess, June, come on,” Patrick called up the stairs. “Movie’s starting.”
Jess stood up, almost falling as she did so. “Shh,” she stage-whispered, putting a finger to her lips. Still laughing, she made her way downstairs, clutching the handrail. “Coming, baby,” she said to Patrick.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling.
“June?” Patrick called after a minute.
I found my voice. “Coming,” I called back.
I bit my lip. The room around me felt unreal, too crowded.
I walked unsteadily down the stairs. Jess and Patrick were curled in one corner of the couch, Ethan in the middle. The beginning of a superhero movie was rolling on the TV, and Patrick absently kissed Jess’s neck, stroked his hand over her arm.
I went to the bathroom and vomited.
When I came out, I sat on the other end of the couch, next to Ethan, with whom I split the bowl of popcorn. I drank glass after glass of water while Jess and Patrick worked their way through the six-pack of beer. I felt adrift, dizzy and floating. I wished I had some coffee. I wished I could go home. But I needed to be sober first.
Abruptly, Jess stood up. “We’re going to run an errand,” she announced.
“What?” I looked up at her. “What errand?”
“Just an errand.” Next to her, Patrick was getting up, yawning.
I paused the movie. “You guys can’t drive.” I glanced at Ethan for support, but he avoided my eyes. “Right? Aren’t you drunk?”
“We’ll walk.”
“It’s still storming so hard. And the drugstore is, like, a mile away.” As if to emphasize my point, thunder cracked outside the window.
“We’re just running an errand. It’s fine, June, okay?” Now Jess sounded annoyed. I didn’t want her to be mad at me. I looked up at her, pleading with my eyes for her to explain. She met my eyes, sighed, and looked meaningfully at Patrick.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to understand from this, but I was afraid of speaking up again. Without saying anything else—without Patrick ever having said anything at all—she put on her shoes and walked out the front door, still clutching a half-full beer, Patrick at her heels. The sound of the rainwater hitting the front steps got louder as they opened the door, and then they closed it, running out of sight, and the house was entirely quiet.
“They can’t drive,” I said pathetically into the silence.
Ethan set the empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table and leaned back again, pulling out his phone. “They’re gonna go hook up in his car.”
“What?”
“You know he got that minivan from his grandparents?”
“Yeah, Jess told me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s like their own personal rolling bedroom. They do this”—he exhaled—“pretty regularly.”
“Oh.”
I squeezed my eyes closed tight, hoping that when I opened them, Jess and Patrick would be back on the couch. But I peeked and saw only Ethan, playing a game on his phone. He glanced up at me, something like pity in his eyes.
“It’s pretty shitty that she’s not spending more time with you on your one week home,” he said. “I’ve seen you almost as much as she has, and I don’t even miss you.”
“You miss me.” I threw a pillow at him, which he dropped his phone to catch. He grinned.
“I do. But my point stands.”
“No, it doesn’t. She’s spent a ton of time with me.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. On Saturday morning, she had picked me up at home, and it was like it used to be, the two of us alone, everything I’d remembered and longed for in Virginia. We got McDonald’s drive-through coffee at the corner by school and sat in her car in the parking lot, tilting the seats so we could lie back and face each other and talk. We caught up, speaking over each other and laughing until we gasped. We spent the whole day like that. When Dad picked me up later that night to go out to dinner, I was so overwhelmed with happiness that I could hardly explain what we had done that day. He pressed me for details, but I was telling the truth. What we had done was be together again. That was all.
I’d spent the next day with my family before the twins went back to school. On Monday, yesterday, I got in the car, expecting another day like Saturday. But Patrick was in the back seat already. He greeted me with the same enthusiasm I felt.
“We’re picking up Ethan next,” Jess said as she pulled away in the rain. She was chatty and affectionate and funny, but not quite as much as she was when we were alone. I tried not to be bothered. We went to her house and got drunk and did a puzzle.
Yesterday and today, at least, she had spent the whole day with me—if not with just me. Now, though, tipsy and alone with Ethan on his couch, I knew it wasn’t enough. She had only been gone five minutes, but I would have given anything, anything, to have her beside me.
“She loves me,” I murmured, almost to myself. “She said so.”
“Seems like she loves Patrick more,” Ethan commented as he turned the movie back on. I felt another wave of nausea and pressed my lips closed. He paused again a few seconds later and looked at me with an expression of awkward apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“You’re fine.”
“I really did miss you. Ashleigh is way less interesting.”
I swallowed hard at how clearly, apparently, Ashleigh was slotting into the space I had left. I tried to sound casual. “If she’s been hanging out with y’all that much, shouldn’t she be here now?”
“She’s in Colorado. Visiting her grandpa. It’s his eightieth birthday.”
“Oh.” I said a small, selfish thank-you to the universe for Grandpa King’s longevity.
“Yeah. And she’s fine, really. She’s not a terrible person or anything. I just don’t have that many good friends with you gone.”
“But you do have other friends, right? Guy friends?”
“Yes. Every single one of them is terrible.”
I smiled. “Even Patrick?”
“Especially Patrick. Jesus, we’ve been friends since we were five and I still can’t stand him. Never liked the guy.”
I made myself laugh; Ethan started the movie again. I closed my eyes. All this, I told myself, is fine.
I opened my eyes at the sound of the door slamming and Jess yelling something incoherent. I must have dozed off, because the movie was almost over. I blinked and looked toward the door, where she and Patrick were giggling and shaking the rain from their bodies.
“It is very fucking wet outside,” Patrick said breathlessly.
“We nearly drowned,” Jess added. Neither she nor Patrick was carrying anything—no shopping bags, no candy bars. Everyone had been in on the errand joke except me.
Patrick said, “I’m gonna shower,” and headed upstairs to Ethan’s bathroom, a
nd Jess sat down between me and Ethan.
“What’ve you two been doing in here?” she said, a tease in her voice.
“Sleeping,” I said truthfully.
“Watching a movie,” Ethan said, still playing his phone game.
“Uh-huh,” she said, but then she snuggled under my arm and said, “Ooh, this is my favorite part.”
I disentangled myself from her, and she pouted. “Another glass of water,” I said, gesturing to my empty cup. She shrugged and looked at the screen, and when I came back to the couch, I sat closer to Ethan than her. But I couldn’t stop looking over at her, trying to unbraid all my emotions. Even as I got more clearheaded with each glass of water, the alcohol still fogged up my brain, softening all my sharp edges.
The knowledge that she and Patrick had just—just—had sex, an hour after I had kissed her, made it hard to think about anything else.
I went into the guest bathroom, clean and the color of a peach, with an unlit lavender candle sitting in the corner of the counter. I leaned in close to the mirror and stared at myself. Tipsy, I could only focus on one part of my face at a time. It made me feel like a collection of puzzle pieces that someone had thrown on the floor. Here, an edge piece with frizzy hair; there, an eye, brown and serious. A thin nose, a slice of jawline plagued by acne, a pair of lips a little chapped.
I stepped back, washed my hands, and splashed water on my face. “Chill,” I said aloud at my reflection.
When I returned to the couch, the credits were rolling, Patrick had returned, and Jess was yawning and stretching. I checked the clock. Five fifteen. I didn’t really have to leave until five forty or so, but…
“I should go,” I said. Three heads turned toward me.
“Not yet,” Jess said, alarmed. “You don’t have to leave until six, right?”
“I have to be home at six. And my parents are being really picky about it. Especially since I was almost late yesterday.” This part was true: I had walked in the door at precisely six o’clock, and Mom had given me a very heavy sigh.
“Well.” Jess looked at each of us in turn, apparently bewildered by the time. “I certainly can’t drive you home.”
I stared at her. Mom and Dad had both asked me, multiple times, if I was sure that Jess could take me home today. They had made it very clear that they were available. But I had insisted. Partly out of stubbornness and partly because I wanted every possible minute with her, I had told them she would drive me. And now…
“You’re still drunk?” My voice came out louder than I intended.
“You aren’t?”
“No!” I was, of course—only a little—but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Besides, my mouth was dry and my head hurt, and that meant I would be sober soon.
Jess looked at me skeptically. “Okay. But we split that wine upstairs.”
“And then you had almost that whole six-pack to yourself!”
Her face broke into a dreamy smile, and she laughed. “I did, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Patrick stage-whispered to her, ignoring me.
“I’ll take you,” Ethan interjected. “I haven’t had anything all day.”
I rewound the day in my head. It was true—I remembered him bringing in drinks and snacks for the rest of us but never taking a sip himself, always and only drinking from his water bottle.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Come on.” He grabbed his car keys and wallet from the counter. By the couch, Jess and Patrick were giggling at some private joke. I inserted myself between them to hug Jess.
“See you tomorrow,” I said.
“See you tomorrow, baby,” she said. I breathed in, trying to reach the familiar scent of her hair, but it smelled like rain and dust and not like her. I stepped back, and she kissed me on the cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
In the car, Ethan didn’t put on any music. It was still raining so hard that the road was difficult to see. I watched the raindrops chase each other across the passenger-side window and imagined Jess and Patrick alone at Ethan’s house, doing God knows what. I steeled myself for dinner and board games with my family. Maybe I could shower first. Maybe the hot water would help. I still felt scattered.
“What Jess said,” Ethan spoke up, and I started—I had been so lost in thought I forgot that he was there. “About what we were doing when she and Patrick were out.”
“Yeah?” We were at a stoplight, and he was staring straight ahead. My headache started to pound a warning.
He took a deep breath. “I have something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. I’m not sure how you feel about…us…but…”
Oh no. Not now. He was going to say he liked me, and I was going to have to tell him I didn’t like him back. But I couldn’t hurt Ethan, not when he was so nice, driving me home, not when we still had half of spring break left.
“I don’t like you in that way,” he finished.
I simultaneously laughed and exhaled in relief. This produced an odd, cough-like sound that Ethan must have interpreted as distress, because he continued quickly, “I’m sorry. I know that Jess and Patrick want us to get together, and you’re amazing, but I just—”
“Ethan, I don’t like you that way, either,” I said, grinning. The light turned green. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“Oh,” he said. There was a long pause. I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Did you think I liked you?” I asked playfully.
“Oh my God. This is mortifying.”
“I’m serious!”
“So am I. I would love nothing more than for an asteroid to strike my car right now.”
“Listen, I was worried you liked me.”
“I tried,” he said, finally laughing with me. “For, like, three weeks when Jess and Patrick first got together. I thought it would be nice if we could date, so I gave it a shot, but it didn’t…”
“Fit,” I finished. “Exactly. I did the same thing. It was nothing about you—”
“No, God, that’s not what I meant—”
“You’re great, it’s just—”
“Right, you’re great, but—”
“Very handsome, honestly—”
“Great…hair.”
We were both giggling.
At the next stoplight, he shot me a thankful look over the center console. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
“Me too. Thanks for driving me home.”
“Yeah, of course.”
He pulled up on the street in front of my house. I was twenty minutes early for my curfew, and it was still pouring. I wanted to stay in Ethan’s car, where a new closeness had grown between us, the air purified by our mutual honesty. We could sit in the rain, and I could tell him everything, Jess and the word bisexual buzzing in my head like a trapped wasp.
But he was looking at me expectantly, and why shouldn’t he? He had to go deal with our drunk friends before his parents got home.
“See you tomorrow?” I asked before I got out, and he nodded.
“See you.”
I got out, my camera on its strap around my neck and my purse slung over my shoulder, and shut the door. The rain instantly soaked me, but a thought occurred to me, and I turned around, tapping on the window. Ethan rolled it down.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Can I take a picture of you?” I had to speak loudly to be heard over the rain.
He gave me a look, but he nodded. “What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. Just look at me.”
To his credit, he didn’t make a face. I took the picture, framing him in the window, then straightened up and waved. “Thanks,” I called.
“Anytime.”
Ethan drove away, and I went up the walk slowly. The rain was cold and hard, a blessing. I let it wash away the after
noon, the game, the wine, the kiss, Jess’s eyes, Jess’s lips, Jess and Patrick in the car, me alone. I let myself believe that Jess would think it had been an accident. A joke. No big deal. “Oh shit.” I made myself believe it. I unlocked and opened the door.
Fourteen
As it turned out, I shouldn’t have worried.
When Jess arrived to pick me up the next morning, forty-five minutes late, she was in a wonderful mood despite the ongoing rain. “Good morning, June,” she sang as I climbed into the car. “I slept for twelve hours last night and I feel amazing.”
“I’m so glad,” I said. I had slept for approximately three hours and felt terrible. I checked the back seat—no one there.
“Ethan’s already at Patrick’s house,” she said. “Patrick’s brother’s friend got us some tequila for today.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, though the idea of tequila was nothing short of horrifying.
She reached over and squeezed my thigh, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she said. She pulled out into the road.
I took a deep breath. During the hours I’d spent not sleeping, I had prepared a speech, carefully calibrated to deflect any suspicions Jess might have held about how I felt about her. I would apologize. I would make it clear it had been an embarrassing mistake, a drunken, meaningless impulse, maybe some kind of a joke.
For about two terrifying minutes, I had considered telling her the whole truth. But only two minutes.
“About yesterday,” I began. “I know it was really inappropriate and out of line, and I just wanted to say—”
She shot me a bemused look that stopped me in my tracks. “What?” she said.
The thought occurred to me that she had been so drunk that she might not even remember. But if that was the case, it would’ve been even more wrong not to say something.
“The…um…” I tried again. “The kiss.”
“Oh!” She looked startled, and then she burst into laughter. I wasn’t sure what reaction I had expected, but this wasn’t it. “Oh my God, I had totally forgotten about that. How funny. But I mean, it happens, right?” She smiled, shrugged. “I’ve kissed Ashleigh, too. It’s no big deal.”
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