by Megan Sparks
“Ohhhh,” said Lexie with a grin. “So that’s what’s in the air. And here I thought it was just the stench of turkey tacos.”
“Happy bloody Valentine’s Day,” said Annie, taking a hefty gulp of Coke, then belching loudly.
Lexie and Lauren laughed.
“I can’t believe they actually call it the Cupid Cotillion,” sniggered Lexie. “The Stupid Cotillion would be more accurate.”
“Forget about the dance and those two tongue wrestlers,” Lauren advised, shooting another look in Tyler’s direction. “You’ve got our anti-Valentine’s Day bout to look forward to.”
“That’s ALL I’ve got to look forward to on Valentine’s Day,” said Annie glumly.
“Don’t be so sure,” said Lexie.
Annie frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Jesse,” said Lexie. “It’s so obvious he’s crazy about you. Maybe he’ll be your valentine.”
“Not this again,” Annie said, laughing. “Lex, I’ve told you a zillion times, Jesse and I are just good friends. He’s friendly with all the roller girls.”
“He sure spends an awful lot of time talking to you.”
“Well, he talks to Lauren, too, and I don’t see you making a fuss about them being more than friends.” She turned to Lauren. “Right, Lauren? Just because you and Jesse chat now and then, that doesn’t mean you want to hook up with him, does it?”
A strange little smile appeared on Lauren’s face. “Not even a little bit.”
“See?” Annie snatched another crisp from Lexie’s tray and popped it into her mouth. “So enough about my love life, OK? Let’s talk about you two. There has to be some boy you fancy, Lex. Spill!”
“Oh, I ‘fancy’ lots of boys,” said Lexie. “Like Robert Pattinson and Trey Songz. Unfortunately, since they’re not likely to show up at a high school Valentine’s Day dance, I guess I’m out of luck.”
“Really?” said Annie. “There’s not a single boy in this school you might be interested in? Not even one?”
Lexie replied with an evasive shrug, which made Annie wonder if maybe she really did have a secret crush on someone. But she knew better than to press the issue. If Lexie liked a boy, she’d tell Annie when she was ready.
“How about you, Lauren?” Lexie asked, clearly wanting to turn the attention away from herself. “Any Liberty Heights High boys on your radar at the moment?”
“Not at the moment,” Lauren answered in a serious tone, then lowered her eyes and added softly, “not ever, actually.”
Annie was confused. “Huh?”
“Do you mean you like a boy from another school?” Lexie prompted, then grinned. “Or maybe you’re holding out for one of the One Direction guys?”
“Uh ... not exactly.” Lauren drew in a deep breath and looked up from the sandwich she’d been studying so intently. “The thing is, I’m not really interested in any guys. Famous or otherwise.”
Annie couldn’t help herself – she let out a tiny gasp. Not because she was horrified, but just because Lauren’s revelation came as a surprise to her. Lauren, to her credit, did not drop her eyes back to her sandwich. She held her head high, meeting Annie and Lexie’s gazes. Annie felt a rush of pride for her friend. Even in this day and age, coming out was a huge step.
Instinctively, Annie reached over and placed her hand on top of Lauren’s. There was a tear in the corner of Lauren’s eye.
“Wow. It feels really good to say that out loud,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “You guys are the first people I’ve told.”
“Thank you for trusting us,” Annie said softly. “That means a lot to me.”
“Me, too.” Lexie gave Lauren a warm smile. “Seriously ... everyone should be proud of who they are. No apologies.”
“Right,” said Lauren, taking another steadying breath. “I mean, I know in my head and in my heart that there’s nothing wrong with being gay. It’s just a little scary to admit to being different. Especially around here, where everyone puts such a premium on being mainstream.”
“Tell me about it,” Lexie chuckled. “Being biracial, I’ve kind of held the monopoly on ‘different’ around here. And believe me, I’ve taken my share of hits. But I’ve always thought mainstream was just another word for average. And who wants to be average?”
Annie thought back to her first few weeks in America, when everyone seemed so hung up on the fact that she spoke with an accent. It had become tedious to know that people only thought of her as “the English girl”. Being considered different – even in that small way – had left her feeling frustrated and alone. And later, when she’d chosen to be a roller girl instead of a cheerleader, she’d learned what it was like to go against expectation. She could only imagine what it would be for her friend when people began to think of her as “the gay girl”.
“Look,” said Lauren. “I know being homosexual doesn’t make me unique or special, or important, any more than you being heterosexual makes you unique or special. It’s biology; it’s DNA. You can’t, like, take credit for it. In fact, it kind of bugs me when gay kids come out and then get all haughty about it, acting like their sexual preference is some kind of an accomplishment.”
“No,” said Annie. “It’s not an accomplishment. But having the courage to face up to small-minded people who are going to judge you for it totally is.”
And people would judge Lauren, Annie knew. They shouldn’t, but they would. God! How incredibly ridiculous was that? It was like judging someone for being allergic to peanuts, or having brown eyes.
“Maybe those gay kids act like that because it’s the only way they can think of to shut small-minded people up,” Lexie suggested.
Lauren considered this. “Could be,” she allowed, then chuckled. “Wow. I’m a gay teen and even I’m judging gay teens.”
Annie smiled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. This is complicated stuff. Just being a teenager at all is challenging enough.”
“So you’re really OK with this?” There was still a tiny thread of worry in Lauren’s voice. “I mean, this doesn’t change anything about our friendship, does it?”
Annie shook her head emphatically. “Absolutely not!” She laughed. “You’re still my derby wife. And even when you get a girlfriend, that’s not going to change. She’ll just have to understand that we’re a package deal.”
“Thanks.” Lauren looked visibly relieved. “Actually one of the reasons I’m not going to the derby boot camp is that I’m planning to come out to my whole family while my grandparents are visiting. I want everyone to find out together. I think they’ll be shocked at first, but I’m pretty sure they’ll be cool with it.” She smiled. “If nothing else, at least it will get my mother’s mind off my weight issues for a change!”
“By the way,” said Lexie, “one of my favourite artists, Frida Kahlo, was bisexual.” She laughed, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything. I guess it’s just my way of saying you’ve got my support.”
“Mine too,” Annie assured Lauren. “And you always will.”
Chapter Six
After school, Annie and Lexie headed straight to Rosie Lee’s. Today was the day the Queen of Hearts advertisement was to appear in the Liberty Heights Gazette and Lexie couldn’t wait to see her photographic work in print.
Annie was slightly less eager. She had no idea which of the photos was going to be featured in the ad; Dad had made the decision in secret. He promised Annie he’d pick the one he thought was the most eye-catching.
“What do you think about what Lauren told us at lunch?” Annie asked. “Were you as surprised as I was?”
“To tell you the truth,” said Lexie, “not really. I mean, it’s not like I always suspected it, because I never really thought about it one way or the other. But once she told us, I was like, oh, yeah. That totally makes sense.”
“It took guts,” said Annie. “She could have just kept it quiet until college. I think she’s pretty cou
rageous coming out in high school.”
“Me too,” said Lexie. “I just hope some of the narrow-minded Neanderthals around here don’t give her too hard a time about it.”
When they entered the café, Dad hustled out from behind the counter, waving a copy of the Gazette in the air. The handful of customers who were sipping their afternoon tea looked up to see what all the excitement was about.
“It’s here!” he cried, meeting the girls in the middle of the shop.
“How does it look?” asked Annie, nervously biting her lower lip. “Which one did you use? Please tell me you picked a good shot.”
“They were all good shots,” said Dad, grinning at Lexie. “But I haven’t seen it in print yet, because I’ve been waiting for you two to get here so we could all admire it together.”
“So what are we waiting for?” cried Lexie. “Let’s check it out.”
Annie took the paper and flipped through it. She found the advert four pages in, next to the horoscopes and the local cinema listings.
It was the shot in which her father was holding the tray out to offer her a tart and she was daintily reaching for one. She was smiling, and the dress really did show off her figure. Unfortunately, there was no getting away from the puffy sleeves and the crown. But all in all, it could have been much worse.
“It’s awesome!” said Lexie, beaming. “I love this one. You both look awesome.”
“I guess I don’t look like a complete idiot,” Annie conceded. “Maybe only slightly dorky.”
“Nothing dorky about it,” Dad declared. “You look positively regal. And once the good subjects of your kingdom have had a chance to read their afternoon papers, I bet we’ll be flooded with orders for Valentine’s goodies.”
“Well, then I guess that means I should get to work,” said Annie, slipping her backpack off her shoulders and taking an apron off the peg rack.
“I’m gonna stick around for a cup of coffee,” said Lexie, who worshipped three things in life: art, individuality, and good coffee. “Then I’ll have to head home and get started on my homework.”
“Help yourself,” said Dad, motioning to the coffee machine behind the counter. “After all, you’re practically one of the staff.”
Lexie giggled and poured herself a steaming cup of French roast, while Annie tied on an apron.
While Annie set about brewing a fresh pot of hazelnut decaf, Dad took a few minutes to show the advertisement to the customers in the shop, who all agreed that it really captured the fun spirit of Rosie Lee’s. When he finally joined Annie behind the counter, it suddenly occurred to her that she still hadn’t got around to mentioning the boot camp to him.
“Um, Dad?”
“Yes, Beanie?” Dad had teased Annie with the nickname String Bean, or Beanie for short, ever since the growth spurt that had meant she’d had to give up gymnastics.
“There’s something I’d like to run by you.”
“OK,” said Dad, smiling. “But if it’s about swapping cranberries for golden raisins in the scone recipe, I’m way ahead of you.”
Annie grinned. “No, Dad. It’s not about raisins. It’s about ... boot camp.”
“Boot camp?” Dad gave her an incredulous look. “As in army boot camp?”
“As in roller derby boot camp,” said Annie, giggling. “I’m pretty sure the US army doesn’t enlist fourteen-year-olds. But Great Lakes University is hosting a week-long boot camp for roller girls. And, um, well, I’d really like to go. If that’s OK.”
Dad studied her for a moment, then abruptly squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “So, you want go to roller derby boot camp, Private?” he barked, taking on the attitude of an army drill sergeant. “Can you handle it, soldier? Do you have what it takes?”
“Well, I’m not sure,” said Annie with a hopeful look. “Because, what it takes ... is six hundred dollars.”
“Did you say six hundred dollars?”
“Sir!” Annie snapped him a salute. “Sir, yes, Sir!”
“Wow.” Dad’s shoulders slumped. “I think you just lost the battle, soldier.”
“Wait,” said Annie. “You haven’t heard me out. Coach is putting together an All-Star squad and going to this camp will really help my chances of getting chosen for the team. I can probably pay part of the cost with what I’ve earned working here ... but, well, I was thinking I’d ask Mum for the rest of the money.” Annie realized she was wringing her hands. She took a deep breath and asked: “Would you mind if I approached her about it?”
Dad’s eyebrows were knitted together. Annie knew he was thinking about the little thrill of triumph his soon-to-be ex-wife would get out of being able to help pay for something he couldn’t afford. Suddenly, Annie felt like a traitor.
“Never mind, Dad,” she said quickly. “I should never have mentioned it. Really. It’s no big deal. I can go next year.”
“Annie—”
“Honestly. Mum’s still not thrilled about me playing roller derby.”
She picked up a towel and began wiping the condensation from the inside of the display case. As much as she wanted to go to this camp, she refused to allow Dad to feel inferior to Mum.
She’d just have to work on her derby skills on her own. For free.
Dad sighed and pulled Annie into a big hug. “You’re amazing, you know that, Beanie? The best. You don’t have to feel guilty about going to Mum for something I can’t give you. She’s your parent just as much as I am.”
“I just don’t want her to think that our shop is a failure,” Annie said.
Dad smiled. “Just the fact that you called it ‘our’ shop means more to me than you can even imagine. That alone is worth the six hundred bucks.”
Annie knew exactly what he meant. When Dad had begun talking about the shop her mother had called it “David’s folly”. But since the very first day they’d entered the rundown old diner to sweep out the cobwebs and grime, Rosie Lee’s had been close to Annie’s heart, too. Even her hard-to-impress mother had fallen for Rosie Lee’s charm when she came to visit back in November.
“It is our shop,” she assured her father, feeling a lump in her throat. “We’re in this together. You may be the official owner and head baker, but I’m Vice President of Icing and Chief Executive of Coffee Brewing!”
Dad laughed. “That’s quite a title. I think you may be due for a pay rise.”
“And don’t forget me,” said Lexie, raising her hand. “Practically one of the staff, remember?”
“Right,” said Dad, nodding at the mural on the wall. Lexie had painted a red London double-decker bus, whose passengers were famous characters from British history and literature. “You’re our Creative Director, not to mention our one-woman advertising department.” He smiled and gave Annie another hug. “You go ahead and negotiate with Mum for the financial backing. If she says yes, it’s fine with me.”
Annie was about to jump for joy, when she remembered. “There’s one other problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll be gone for a whole week. And it’s the week the school’s on holiday so you’ll probably get tons of customers, especially with the advert running. If I go away, you’ll have no one to help you in the shop.”
“Um, hell-oh?” drawled Lexie, rolling her eyes. “What part of ‘practically one of the staff’ do you guys not understand?”
Both Annie and her dad turned to stare at Lexie.
“You want to fill in for me while I’m at camp?” Annie didn’t even try to hide the disbelief in her voice.
“Sure,” said Lexie. “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I hang around here enough. I know how everything works, I’ve got the menu memorized—”
“True,” said Dad, warily. “It’s just that, well ... I don’t really see you as the ‘customer service’ type.”
Lexie laughed. “You don’t have to tiptoe around it. I know I can be somewhat ... um, caustic at times. But I promise I’ll be an absolute angel the whole time I’m working here. Effici
ent, charming, and courteous.” She gave them an exaggerated wink. “And if I happen to spill boiling coffee on some obnoxious customer, I promise I’ll make it look like an accident.”
Dad gulped and whispered to Annie, “She’s kidding, right?”
“Of course she’s kidding, Dad. Lexie would never spill coffee on a customer,” Annie giggled. “That would be a waste of perfectly good coffee!”
“Seriously, Mr Turner,” said Lexie, “I’d love to work here while Annie’s away. I’m saving up for a new graphics tablet and I need to pull in some cash.”
“See? That proves she’ll be nice to the customers,” teased Annie. “She needs the tips!”
“Well then,” said Dad, as the door jingled to announce a new customer’s arrival, “it looks like the VP of Icing might be heading to camp!”
Annie squealed with delight, gave him a kiss, then grabbed a menu to bring to the new customer. She could barely contain her excitement as she took down his order.
She was going to boot camp!
All she had to do now was convince Mum!
Chapter Seven
Annie had set her alarm for the crack of dawn on Friday morning. She rolled out of bed, made a groggy effort to smooth her long hair, then went over to her computer.
Moments later, the sound of the Skype signal filled her room, and seconds after that her mother’s face appeared on the laptop’s screen.
“Good morning, love,” said Mum from behind the desk in her office. “You’re up early!”
“I know,” said Annie, smiling. “I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day!”
“Oh...” Mum looked oddly flustered. “Well, thank you.” Behind her glasses, Mum’s pretty blue eyes darted to the corner of her desk where an enormous bouquet of roses stood.
“Wow.” Annie raised her eyebrows, properly shocked. “Looks like somebody beat me to it.”
Mum blushed. “Yes, actually.”
This was just too weird. Mum receiving flowers on Valentine’s Day from someone who wasn’t Dad?