by Alex Sanchez
“Hi!” Allie answered, putting aside her calculus homework. “I was going to call you.”
“You were?” Kimiko asked, adjusting her cap.
“Yeah. Last night I reread Girl Panic. I really like it. Oh, and Chip was wowed by the drawing of the girls kissing. Why are straight boys so fascinated by the idea of two girls together?”
“Beats me.” Kimiko pulled her cap off and scratched her head. “Maybe they think two is better than one? Like a harem?”
“Of course I’m no one to talk,” Allie said, “considering that I think the idea of two guys making out is hot, hot, hot!”
Kimiko didn’t understand that, either. She put her cap back on and told Allie, “To be honest, I don’t really get why anybody would want to do anything with a guy. I remember the first time I saw a boy’s thing. My mom was giving my little brother a bath, and I thought: THAT wormy thing is what all the fuss is about? I burst out laughing.”
“Oh, I think guys’ things are cute.” Allie giggled. “It’s funny how they pop up, like: Boing! There it goes!”
“Well . . .” Kimiko decided to change the subject. “If you liked Girl Panic, I can loan you Book Two. Sometimes sequels suck, but these are good.”
“Yeah, I’d love that,” Allie said.
“Okay, well . . .” Kimiko took a breath. “Do you want to, like, hang out sometime? I mean if you’re not too busy—”
“How about Saturday?” Allie said. “In the afternoon? I’ve got a math competition in the morning.”
“Math competition?”
“Yeah, I’m in Math Club. That’s my nerdy side. I love numbers like you love poetry. I’m always thinking about them. Like the other day waiting at the gas station? I looked around at the dollar amounts that people had paid and tried to guess who had been there. Like one pump said three-seventy and I figured that must’ve been a teenager with barely any money. Another pump said ten dollars and four cents and I knew they must have meant to do ten dollars but were a little slow, so maybe it was an old person. See what I mean?”
“Dude, I’m impressed,” Kimiko said. She hadn’t imagined that Allie had a nerdy side. Even though it made her less goddesslike, it also made her more human.
“I suck at math,” Kimiko admitted. “It’s like my worst subject. And my teachers expect me to be a genius with it ’cause I’m Asian. At the start of the year, they’re so psyched to have me in their class. But by Thanksgiving they’re like: ‘Dude, are you really Japanese?’”
“Well,” Allie said. “I’d be happy to help you.”
“Really?” Kimiko didn’t want to impose on her. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
They talked a while longer and agreed to meet at the mall on Saturday. After hanging up, Kimiko shook her arms and legs out again—this time to release her joy.
On Saturday Kimiko put on the slinky red shirt Sergio had lent her—the one he’d worn on his date with Lance. The color matched her Harley baseball cap almost perfectly. Grabbing her leather jacket and the second Girl Panic, she headed downstairs to the backyard. Her dad was helping her mom spread some mulch on a flower bed.
“I’m going to the mall to meet Allie,” Kimiko told them.
“Invite her back to visit,” Kimiko’s mom said. “I like her. She’s very ladylike. Why don’t you let your hair grow long like hers?”
Kimiko rolled her eyes. “Because I’m not her.”
“Well, have a good time,” her dad interjected, giving Kimiko the chance to leave before she and her mom got more on each other’s nerves.
Kimiko arrived at the food court early and sat down by the fountain, then stood and searched the crowd, then sat down again, then stood up once more, too antsy to sit still. When Allie finally arrived, Kimiko greeted her excitedly with a fist-bump. “’Sup, dude?”
“Hi,” Allie said. “I like your shirt.”
“Thanks, it’s share-wear from Sergio. So, how did your math competition go?”
“Awesome! Our team made second place.”
“That’s good. Here.” She handed Allie Book Two of Girl Panic.
“Thanks!” Allie scanned the pages. “I can’t wait to read it.”
“So, do you want to hang out here?” Kimiko asked. “Or walk around?”
“Actually,” Allie said. “I need to shop for some new bras. Would you mind?”
Kimiko gave a nervous giggle. Shop for lingerie with her? Seriously? She had to swallow the sudden knot in her throat before she could answer. “I don’t, I-I mean: sure.”
“Super!” Allie said. She often went shopping with friends, even for underthings. To her it was no big deal.
As they strolled out of the food court into the mall, Kimiko’s brain felt frozen. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“I talked to Chip,” Allie said, filling in the silence, “about him and me. You know, about the stuff I mentioned to you. Thanks for encouraging me to talk to him.”
“No problem,” Kimiko replied. “How did it turn out?”
Allie explained how she’d suggested they take a break.
“So you’re not a couple anymore?” Kimiko asked.
“I’m not sure what we are,” Allie answered, stopping at a women’s store. “Let’s try in here.” As they walked to the lingerie section, she related to Kimiko how Chip had said he’d wait.
“Wait for what?” Kimiko replied.
“For me to make up my mind, I guess.” Allie picked through a table of bras, trying to decide what she wanted. “I always have a hard time deciding. What kind do you like to wear?”
“Mostly sports bras,” Kimiko said, blushing a little. She liked how they helped to flatten down her chest.
“Oh, really?” Allie asked. Then she lifted a pair of lacey bras. “Do you like these?”
“Um, for you, yeah.” Kimiko tried to keep her face from flaming even more as she imagined Allie in one of the lacey bras.
“Let me go try them on,” Allie said. “Come help me choose.”
Kimiko waited outside the fitting room and took a few deep breaths to calm down. Was this really happening? Being invited along while trying on bras felt so like . . . intimate.
“Can you come look?” Allie cracked open the fitting booth curtain.
Kimiko thought it over for a nanosecond before moving over. “Um, sure. If you want.”
“Does it look all right?” Allie asked, gazing at her bust in the mirror.
“It looks great.” Kimiko practically choked the words out. “How does it feel?”
“Perfect.” Allie ran her fingers beneath a strap and glanced at Kimiko. When their eyes met, an unexpected stirring moved through Allie. It was different from anything she’d ever experienced with any other girl, a sort of shyness coupled with desire.
“I really only need one.” She giggled nervously, suddenly feeling exposed. “Should I get the black or the red one?”
“It’s up to you, dude.” Kimiko averted her eyes, trying not to stare.
“I’ll get both,” Allie said, too flustered to make a decision. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Kimiko said, forcing herself to step back from the curtain.
It took a moment for Allie to regain her bearings. “Do you need anything?” She asked as she carried the bras to the register.
“No, thanks,” Kimiko said. “I’m good.”
While they waited for the cashier, Allie returned to her conversation about Chip. “So anyway, I guess he’s having a hard time letting go. He’s really a nice guy. I think that’s why this is so hard.”
A stab of sadness pricked Kimiko. Even though she’d never met the guy, she felt sorry for him—and also sad for Allie having to go through this.
As Allie finished paying for the bras, she glanced up and her eyes widened. Her friend Jenny had just walked into the store, Jack trailing behind her. At the sight of her, an odd impulse overcame Allie. For some reason, she didn’t want Jenny to see her with Kimiko.
“Let’s go this way!�
�� Allie whispered. She grabbed her shopping bag and circled toward the back of the store. Kimiko followed, glancing over her shoulder, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Allie!” Jenny called. “Allie!” But Allie kept walking down the aisle.
“Dude,” Kimiko said, “that girl is calling you.”
“Huh?” Allie stopped and feigned surprise as Jenny caught up to them in the jeans section.
“Hi! Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“No, I’m sorry,” Allie lied. “How are you? I was just buying some stuff. So, yeah . . . What’s up?”
“I’m dragging Jack around while I shop,” Jenny said. She didn’t seem to see Kimiko. “What did you get?”
“Just some bras,” Allie said, opening her bag to show her and thinking, Maybe she won’t notice Kimiko.
But Jack noticed her. “Hey, do you have a bike?” he asked, gesturing to Kimiko’s Harley cap.
“Not yet,” she replied, grinning a little awkwardly. She still didn’t get what was going on with Allie.
“This is my friend Kimiko,” Allie said. “This is Jenny and Jack. Remember the friend I told you about who has a motorcycle?”
“Oh, right. Cool. What kind do you have?” Kimiko felt a bit more at ease as she and Jack talked about motorcycles, engine types, and cc’s.
Meanwhile, Allie watched Jenny glance Kimiko over. Then Jenny turned and gave Allie a confused and kind of wounded look as if to say: How come you never mentioned this person?
Allie shifted nervously. What should she say? She wasn’t sure why she felt so uneasy. When Kimiko and Jack paused in their conversation, she grabbed the opportunity for Kimiko and her to break away.
“So, anyway . . . Well, we better go. See you at school.”
“Nice meeting you,” Jenny told Kimiko.
“Yeah, good to meet you,” Jack said.
“Thanks, you too,” Kimiko told them and followed Allie.
As they headed out of the store and into the mall, Allie let out a breath, feeling a sense of relief. “I’m glad you got a chance to meet Jack,” she told Kimiko.
“Me too,” Kimiko said. “But . . . can I ask you a question? What was going on back there? It seemed like you tried to avoid them.”
“Um . . .” Allie coiled a strand of hair between her fingers while she tried to sort out what to explain. “How about if we get a Coke or something?”
They returned to the food court, where Allie bought them sodas and they sat at a table near the one where they’d sat with Lance and Sergio.
“Remember that dream with a girl I told you about?” Allie said, sipping her Diet Coke.
“Yeah . . .” Kimiko nodded, trying to figure out what the dream might have to do with Jenny. “Was the girl Jenny?”
“No, no, no!” Allie had never felt anything like that toward Jenny. “But when I had the dream and told her about it, she had this kind of homophobic reaction. I know she likes Lance and she says she’s okay with gay people, but she was kind of weirded out that I’d have a dream like that.”
Kimiko sipped her root beer and mulled that over. The explanation didn’t exactly make sense. “So you didn’t want to see her because of me? But if she’s okay with gay people, then why . . . ?”
“I don’t know,” Allie said. “I guess I just didn’t want her to jump to conclusions about . . . you and me.”
“Why would she think anything about you and me?” Kimiko asked. She couldn’t imagine anyone thinking that she and Allie could possibly be a couple.
“I don’t know,” Allie repeated. “Look, I’m sorry about this whole thing. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Kimiko didn’t know what to think either. Should she feel hurt that Allie didn’t want people to think there was anything going on between them? Or should she feel flattered that Allie thought someone might imagine there was something going on?
“I really like you,” Allie said. She put her hand lightly over Kimiko’s and let it stay there for a moment before she pulled it away. “Okay?”
Before Kimiko knew it, the words popped out of her mouth: “I like you too, dude.”
“Thanks.” Allie said. She’d enjoyed hanging out with her. It felt different from being with other friends, although she couldn’t describe exactly how—maybe because Kimiko was so different: boyish and yet a girl, Japanese and also American. Or maybe it had to do with the stirring she’d felt inside when she’d invited Kimiko to look at her in her bra.
“Want to walk some more?” Allie asked.
As they wandered around the mall, Kimiko wondered exactly what Allie had meant by “I really like you.” And she realized she wasn’t quite sure what she’d meant by “I like you too, dude.”
“Who was your friend at the mall?” Jenny asked Allie at her locker Monday morning.
“Just a friend of a guy Lance went out with,” Allie said, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s all.” She’d known Jenny was bound to ask about Kimiko. But Allie wasn’t ready to talk about what was going on and risk Jenny turning homophobe on her.
“When did you start hanging out with her?” Jenny asked.
“Just a couple of weeks ago.”
“Are you still taking a break from Chip?” Jenny said.
“Yeah.”
“Allie, is there something else you want to tell me?”
“No.” Allie closed her locker, accidentally slamming the door. “Sorry.”
“All right,” Jenny said and offered a smile. “But if you do want to talk, you know I’ll listen.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks,” Allie said politely. Maybe Jenny wouldn’t turn homophobe on her. After all, they weren’t in middle school anymore. They’d both become a lot more mature since then and more comfortable with all sorts of issues.
As soon as Jenny left, Allie went to find Lance. “Can just you and I have lunch today?” she asked. “I really want to talk to you.”
“I’m just not ready to talk to Jenny or anybody else about this yet,” Allie complained to Lance over lunch at one of the school’s outside picnic tables.
“Then don’t,” Lance soothed her. “You don’t have to tell her.”
“But I feel like I’m being a crappy friend. And what if she told someone else? You know how people would start to talk. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to Chip. I’ve got to sort things out with him first.” Allie brought a hand to her forehead. “Sometimes this starts to feel too overwhelming. Can we change subjects? So, when are you going to call Sergio?”
“Why hasn’t he called me?” Lance replied, pushing his french fries around his plate.
“Come on, babe,” Allie said. “You can do this.”
He knew she was right. That afternoon during swim practice, he psyched himself up with each lap.
When he got home, he started to dial Sergio’s number. But then he decided to eat something first and made himself a PBJ sandwich. Then he checked to see if maybe Sergio had e-mailed him. While he was online, Leo IM’d him for help with their English homework, and Lance did his own homework along with him. By the time he finished, his mom was calling him to dinner. After eating with his parents and helping to load the dishwasher, he got a text from Allie. Have u called him?
Too embarrassed to tell her no, he closed his bedroom door, deposited himself on the bed, and dialed.
“What up?” Sergio answered, sounding out of breath. “Hang on a sec.” He turned the volume down on the video he was watching. “I’m learning some new steps to teach at Dance Club.”
“Cool,” Lance said, recalling his dream of one day dancing with a guy. “How’s it going?”
“Good.”
They both avoided discussing what they most wanted to find out. Instead they chatted about dancing, school, and friends, while Sergio continued to practice dance steps, excited that Lance had finally called. Maybe he wasn’t dating that Jamal guy, after all.
“So, um, who was that guy you were with at the chick-flick the other night?”
�
�Jamal? He’s a friend from school. We’re on the swim team together.”
“Only a friend?” Sergio asked.
The question took Lance by surprise. He hadn’t considered that Sergio might think Jamal was a date. Lance didn’t even know if Jamal was gay. One time he’d asked, but Jamal had merely mumbled, “I’m not sure yet” and changed the topic. After that, Lance had never brought it up again.
“Yeah, he’s just a friend,” Lance now told Sergio. “Why?”
“Just askin’,” Sergio replied. He sounded a little jealous.
Lance gave a nervous giggle. He’d never experienced a guy feeling possessive of him. He kind of liked it.
“So, um, who was the girl you were with?” he asked Sergio.
“Serena? She’s a new girl in Kimiko’s creative writing class. . . . She asked me out.”
“You mean . . . like on a date?” Lance nervously ran his hand across the bedspread. Even though he’d imagined that Serena might be a date, having it confirmed made him feel all jumbled and jealous and hurt.
“Yeah . . .” Sergio stopped dancing as he became aware of Lance turning quiet. “Since you didn’t call me after our date, I didn’t know if you were interested in going out again. I asked you out last time, so I figured it was your turn to call.”
Lance took a breath, trying to clear his head. He felt angry with himself that he hadn’t called sooner, like Allie had told him to.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he told Sergio.
Sergio wiped the sweat from his brow. He felt bad hearing the regret in Lance’s voice. “Well, I’m sorry I didn’t call you, either.”
“So, um . . .” Lance grabbed a tube of hand cream from the nightstand and tossed it in the air. “Are you going out with her again?”
“No,” Sergio said. “She doesn’t really do it for me. Like in my car afterward, she was sort of waiting for me to make out with her. But I didn’t want to, so I didn’t.”
Lance let out a sigh of relief. At least Sergio hadn’t kissed the girl. That was some consolation. He recalled his own make-out session with Sergio and suddenly wanted to repeat it more than anything in the world.
“So, um . . .” Lance continued to nervously toss the hand cream. “Would you like to go out again?”