Mindy felt a little like resting a head on Lucia’s shoulder herself, she felt so drained catching the shockwaves of Lucia’s explosion. She sat there beside her, a lump.
“We should have a fucking Galentine’s Day.” Lucia nodded to herself. “Yeah. We’ll go shopping and eat at a fancy restaurant and go see a romantic movie—they’re for us anyway…”
“You…wanna spend Valentine’s Day with me?” Mindy asked.
“Yeah, what, like you have plans?”
“My parents book a suite at the Renaissance on Valentine’s Day. I get the house all to myself, so I watch Game of Thrones really loud in my underwear. I don’t even fast-forward the naked scenes at all. I’ve caught up on whole seasons that way.”
Lucia was staring at her. “Bitch, you want bloodshed, nudity, and midgets, you go shopping with me.”
* * *
Lucia’s and Mindy’s houses were almost nothing alike, except they both had first-floor additions in almost the same spot, extending toward each other like they were going to lean on one another. The roofs almost touched, so when Mindy saw Lucia sitting on the little “balcony” outside her bedroom window, she thought for a dumb moment that Lucia was actually in her room.
Lucia waved at her. Mindy waved back, but gave her a confused look.
Lucia shrugged.
Feeling awkward, Mindy picked up her closest textbook and gave it a little shake.
Lucia rolled her eyes but in an understanding way.
Mindy lay down on her bed and pyramided her book on her tummy. It was a little nice knowing Lucia was there, almost watching over her.
Then she heard something fly through her open window and flap onto the foot of her bed. Mindy sat up. Lucia had disappeared back into her room, but she’d left a card.
It was a Valentine’s Day card, a picture of Bane from The Dark Knight Rises on the cover saying, You think being my Valentine gives you power over me? On the inside, another bit of Tom Hardy stock art said: It does. There was a bit of text seemingly intended for Quentin that Lucia had Xed out so thoroughly nothing remained except an ellipsis. Then Lucia had penned in a new message: You’re the only good thing about this week, followed by a smiley face with a wobble for a mouth.
CHAPTER 3
Carfax Mall was all done up with flowers and pink and hearts in a way that was almost tasteful. Budgetary constraints. Had to be.
What surprised Mindy was how thrifty Lucia was. She’d brought her credit card, expecting she’d be cutting it up by the end of the day, but Lucia walked right by the boutiques to go to smaller businesses, thrift stores that all seemed to know her by sight. Once she had Mindy in front of the staff, it was like a general giving his lieutenants a battle plan. Dresses started materializing, skirts and blouses and jeans and belts that everyone said would look great on her. But only those Lucia okayed went into the dressing room.
“Those glasses have got to go,” Lucia told her. “We need to LensCrafters your shit…it’s like from the feet up, girl, girl, girl, eighties stockbroker.”
“I like my glasses.”
“I like singing Macklemore songs, but I know better than to do it in public.” Lucia rushed them into a well-sized dressing room like it would fortify them against a zombie apocalypse, giggling as she threw the lock closed. “Alright. We need to know your dress shape.”
“You mean size?”
“No, shape. They can be higher or lower. Depends on the girl. Pull your shirt up.”
It all happened so fast, Lucia running her from one store to another, showing her how to dress and what to wear, all the tricks of the trade. It was like a movie montage more than Mindy’s boring little life.
INT. DRESSING ROOM 1 – DAY
LUCIA, our heroine, heartbroken but sexily so, runs her hands over the sides of her comedy sidekick, MINDY: a GINGER with round cheeks, freckles, and a bulb of a PUG NOSE under a curly mop of hair. She finds the narrowest part of Mindy’s WAISTLINE. A shitty single by GREEN DAY plays on the soundtrack because our CORPORATE OVERLORDS declared it so.
INT. SHOE STORE – DAY
Lucia and Mindy try on HEELS. Lucia shows her friend how to walk around in them. She exaggeratedly SWINGS her hips, then puts her hands on MINDY’S HIPS to show her how to shift her body weight the right way.
INT. HAIR SALON – DAY
LUCIA explains to Mindy that her THICK CURLY HAIR will look a lot better if she DOESN’T BRUSH IT and washes it only EVERY FEW DAYS instead of every twenty-four hours. Mindy agrees to TRY IT.
INT. DRESSING ROOM 2 – DAY
LUCIA tells Mindy about properly fitting her bra, because if she’s got it wrong, her BREASTS WILL BE SORE, she’ll look TEN POUNDS HEAVIER and the girls WILL NOT BE AS PERKY AS THEY COULD BE. Borrowing a TAPE MEASURE, Lucia checks Mindy’s underbust while STANDING, BENT OVER, and LYING DOWN. It TAKES A WHILE. This is a subject Lucia IS PRETTY PASSIONATE ABOUT.
And then the eighties movie montage was over and Mindy realized she was in a makeup store. An actual makeup store, where the employees wore matchy-match outfits and name tags and hats and you had to bust out a credit card to pay for stuff. And Lucia had bought her some eye shadow with a French name, along with a bunch of other stuff, and had taken her into the cramped employee space in the back to put it on her. She was so intent that Mindy would’ve giggled if Lucia hadn’t been so insistent on her holding still.
“The key,” Lucia was saying, sounding like she had an IQ of 240, “is to separate the socket line up top from the crease. We do not put shadow on our creases unless we’re, like, Asian or something. Really Asian, too, not Last Airbender Asian.” She stopped to check her work, then smiled like it was the shape her mouth was made to fit into. “You’re so pretty.”
Mindy looked away. Why did people feel the need to humor her—condescend to her, really? She knew what she looked like. “No I’m not.”
Lucia grabbed her by the chin, holding her still to work her lips with some gloss. “Shut up, you’re cute and sexy, deal with it.”
But Mindy knew she wasn’t. Lucia was the one who was pretty. This close, she could see it in every pore. She was made of awesome. Especially her lipstick. The last time Mindy had tried to put on lipstick, she’d looked like Ronald McDonald, but Lucia’s lipstick was amazing. It was so red. Red and red and red.
Mindy looked away again. This time Lucia let her.
“Okay, done! Ready to start your modeling career? Wait, wait, no, not yet! I want to see how you look in that Matthew Williamson dress.”
Mindy’s ears grew even hotter, which seemed impossible without them achieving nuclear fusion. “Good, I can look completely ridiculous.”
“Well, true, you’re no me, but that’s not so bad.” Lucia gathered up the spoils of the hunt into one of their shopping bags. “It’s always the best food that has flies buzzing around it, y’know? Guys like Quentin.” Lucia realized her thoughtlessness in one epic contortion of her face. “Oh. Oh! Not that you look bad or anything. You always look great—I mean you belong with someone who likes you even with your awful fashion sense. For your heart and shit. Come on.”
They drew the attention of mall security, going into the nearest boutique with a bunch of shopping bags already full, but Lucia just laughed when Mindy pointed it out to her. They were only going to use the dressing room, after all.
Inside the coffin space of a dressing room meant for one, Mindy held the dress over her body again. Light olive-green with white daisy lace embroidery, green bead raffia and sequin embellishments. It didn’t grab the eye like Lucia’s wardrobe did, but Mindy liked how it looked on her. Lucia was right about that much.
“I’m stealing this from you,” Lucia said, dragging a pink Alexander Wang crop top from one of Mindy’s bags. She held it before her chest in the mirror, looked undecided, then peeled off her Famous Last Words tee to try it on.
Her bra was Armani—one of those things you saw on girls who were someone’s thinspiration. Mindy was staring. She hated that she was
staring. Then Lucia unhooked her bra. Unbroken by straps, the expanse of her back was long and smooth, and you just wanted to touch it. Like it was a dolphin or something.
“Hey, you sure you want to do that?”
“Why? You think there’s a hidden camera in here?” Lucia turned to her, and Mindy thanked Isaac Newton that physics kept her bra in place. Mostly.
“No,” Mindy said. “Wait, is there? No, I just mean, in front of me.”
Lucia smiled fondly as she took her bra all the way off. Mindy shut her eyes. “Mindy, besties share everything. Including what their nipples look like.”
Mindy gestured blindly, but stopped when she had a nightmare vision of accidentally grabbing tit. “It’s just…Would you take off your clothes in front of a straight guy?”
Lucia snorted. “Yes. Obviously.”
“I mean, a straight guy you weren’t dating.”
“He’d have to buy me a drink, but—”
“Is there a situation where, like, you’d take off your clothes in front of a guy because he was gay and didn’t care but not in front of a straight guy because he’d be perving?”
“Well, I’d have to be wearing cute underwear, because those gays can be vicious when it comes to ladies’ undies, but—whoa, do you think I’m gay?”
“No! Me, I’m—maybe.”
“Maybe you’re gay? What, did you just see Olivia Wilde?”
“Like, maybe I’m gay, maybe I’m straight, maybe I’m bisexual, maybe I’m demisexual—”
“What is that? That sounds like one of Luke Skywalker’s friends. And would you open your eyes already? I promise I’m decent.”
Mindy opened her eyes. Lucia had put on the pink shirt.
“That looks really cute on you,” Mindy said.
“Thanks. I know. Tragically, I am ninety-nine percent heterosexual. I am entirely into dicks and Olivia Wilde.”
Mindy took a deep breath. She felt like she should be panicking. Why wasn’t she panicking? This was the first person she’d told about being less than straight, which also happened to be the first chapter in all those books about kids who got run out of town or lynched or burnt at the stake. And Lucia made her feel so calm. “The point is… I don’t know where I’m going to end up. So I’d understand you being, like, concerned to take off your shirt and end up in my spank bank or whatever.”
“Mindy,” Lucia put her hands on Mindy’s shoulders, “I would be honored to be in your spank bank.” She pulled her jeans a ways down her hips. “Look how cute my underwear is. Look at my gay guy underwear. This is the underwear RuPaul would wear if he didn’t have a dick.”
Lucia had her laughing again. “Stop it! You’re gonna make me pee.”
“Do not! I just got that outfit right. Well, wait, not quite right—” Lucia took off her necklace, a simple gold cross, and put it over Mindy’s head. “You’re not, like, waging war on Christmas or anything?”
“Mm?” Mindy found a mirror, looked at the little crucifix in the hollow of her throat. “Oh no. Just not sure if God really cares about someone…eating sushi or whatever.”
“Well, take that off if you’re going to eat sushi, just in case.” Lucia straightened it. “It looks nice.”
“Yeah,” Mindy agreed. “Wouldn’t be disappointed to find this in a Cracker Jack box.”
Lucia slapped her arm. “Ho. It’s my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, and my mom gave it to me before—anyway, it’s official. You’re my baby. I’ve adopted you.”
“Can I have a pony?”
“No.”
Cut. Print. Fade to a Jamba Juice bar, where they waited in line because every boy and girl that had ever shared a boob felt compelled to also split a smoothie. Mindy had been pretty quiet. She’d had a lot of mental versions of this conversation, where she told someone and they had a big fight about slumber parties and yelled at each other and threw stuff, and it was all very dramatic. There was Linkin Park music, and she had a good cry.
Now she’d told someone, and there was no drama. No accusation that she was perving on them or planning to “convert” them or any of the other horror stories she’d read online. Lucia seemed more curious than anything else. Maybe not bi-curious, but…
“So!” Lucia whispered in her ear. “You don’t know if you’re straight or gay. There a word for that?”
“Questioning,” Mindy whispered back.
“Got it, got it, simple. How does one becoming “questioning” anyway? You weren’t, like… I mean, you didn’t walk in on your parents doing it or anything?”
“No, just lucky, I guess.”
They got to the front of the line. Lucia ordered something with enough ingredients in it to sound like a magic potion. Mindy ordered the same. When Lucia brushed her elbow along Mindy’s ribs, she paid. Galentine’s Day was killing her allowance, but spending time with Lucia was worth it. Someone should figure out a way to pay cute people to keep you company. Oh, yeah. Prostitution.
Most of the couples left the store as soon as they got their drinks, on their way to one PG-13 activity or another, so they stayed, sitting in a booth near the back of the store. Lucia and Mindy and all their bags. Lucia was looking at her with that look that’d been seared into Mindy’s brain ever since she’d told her parents. Someone who had questions but didn’t know if it was pushy to ask.
Say what you would about Lucia, but she wasn’t indecisive. “But how’s that work? People either like pizza or they don’t. They don’t look at a slice of pizza and ask if there’s a third option.” Then Lucia drank from her smoothie like it wasn’t a big deal either way.
Mindy blew out a gust of air that brushed the fine hairs on her forearm. “You’ve never looked at a girl and thought she was so pretty, you didn’t know if you wanted to be her or…the other thing?”
Lucia grinned at her like Mindy was a kitten that’d gotten tangled in string. “Fishing for compliments now?”
“Not me, obviously!”
“Why obviously?”
Mindy shook her head to clear it. “Or a guy. Okay, a guy. A guy who looks really hot, and you know he’s hot, but you still wouldn’t screw him.”
Lucia looked away thoughtfully. “Mads Mikkelsen,” she said under her breath, nodding.
“It’s like that. Kinda. Sorta.” Mindy picked up her drink and turned it around in her hand. “I’m explaining it bad.”
Lucia picked up her drink and held the lower half against her head, the ice helping with the Texas heat. “Is it weird that I’m asking? If you don’t wanna talk about it—”
“I don’t mind. It’s just…” Mindy paused. She watched Lucia put the smoothie down. “Whether I’m going to be marginalized and persecuted for the rest of my life or whether I’m going to be normal.”
Lucia’s eyes sought hers. Lucia’s were so blue that they seemed to glow. They stared at each other for a moment. “Are you scared to be gay?”
Mindy looked away. “Okay, that—”
“Sorry,” Lucia said quickly.
“That’s an okay question, but…we’re at a Jamba Juice.”
“We are at a Jamba Juice!” Lucia said, changing the subject very naturally. She picked up Mindy’s empty cup. “You want another? Anything with seaweed is good. Seaweed is the chocolate of the smoothie world.”
“Get me another one.”
Lucia got back into line, leaving Mindy with her thoughts and a small panic attack. She hadn’t pictured telling someone going like this. Telling a friend. Having a friend. It’d always just seemed…kinda obvious to her. Of course she wasn’t normal—she wore horn-rimmed glasses and plaid pants and big, baggy T-shirts and Timberland boots like she was going to hike her way from Home Ec to Calculus. People saw her that way; so what did Lucia see her as?
Lucia returned, shoving Mindy’s smoothie into her hand. “Okay, we’ve gotta book. You took a hella long time coming out of the closet, and Frankenstein starts in two minutes.”
“Frankenstein?” Mindy asked, trying to remember i
f Boris Karloff had been scheduled for the local Alamo Drafthouse that month. She thought it was all Christopher Lee.
“Frankenstein: Rise of the Prometheans,” Lucia said in her best trailer voice. “I’ve been looking forward to it all month. Haven’t you been paying attention to me?” she asked, throwing in a fake pout.
They reached the theater just in time, so there were ten minutes of previews, commercials, commercials for previews, and public service announcements that were really commercials to sit through before the trailers started in earnest. Mindy guessed people had liked movie trailers too much for the powers that be not to mess with them.
At least she still had her smoothie. Lucia had said “please” and had bent over really far, so the ticket-taker let them take their “outside food or drink” into the movie. She slurped it loudly, in competition with Lucia. The movie they were about to watch had opened as counterprogramming to Valentine’s Day 2: The New Breed and a Ryan Gosling movie, so they had the theater to themselves. Between that and being teenage girls, they resumed their conversation.
“So, if you woke up one night and Chris Hemsworth was in your bed, naked and shit,” Lucia began, “you’d kick him out because you might be gay? Follow-up, same question, Natasha Henstridge.”
“Natasha Henstridge?” Mindy asked.
“You don’t know who she is?”
“I know who she is, just—wow, dated much?”
Lucia stretched out, kicking off her flip-flops and putting her bare feet up on the seat in front of her. “I saw Species as a kid, and it gave me a total lesboner for her. She’s cute, and it’s an analogy, work with me.”
“I don’t know. I have no idea what I’d do with a naked guy or a naked girl. Good thing it hasn’t come up much.” Mindy followed suit, putting her Timberlands up on the seat in front of her, though she worried about breaking it. They were good-sized boots.
Lucia poked her in the side, right below her waist. “Because I could set you up, if you were looking in the guy department.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I could get you a picture of the dude’s penis first, if that would help. Because you can just ask and they’ll send you one. Boys are such sluts.”
Ex-Wives of Dracula Page 3