It's Not Like It's a Secret

by Misa Sugiura

  Elaine blushes but remains otherwise unfazed. “I can’t help it. It’s so much fun!” Then she turns to me and makes her plug again. “Come on, Sana, just try. It’s way better than kissing girls, I know it is.”

  “What do you know about kissing girls? And what’s wrong with me wanting to? I don’t want to kiss a guy, because I actually did once, and it was disgusting. There aren’t any guys who want to kiss me anyway—not that I would kiss them. Because I don’t. Like. Guys.” Naturally, this is the moment that Caleb chooses to text me:

  What r u doing Friday?

  Want to go bowling?

  I glance at my phone and try to shove it back into my bag before anyone can see who it’s from, but Hanh is too quick. “Ooooh, someone wants to kiss you!” she says. She holds the phone out for all to see and is rewarded with a squeal from Elaine.

  “He is totally into you. You should go out with him!” she says.

  “Yeah, he’s cute,” says Hanh. “So what if he’s a little weird?”

  Elaine pokes Hanh on the arm. “He’s not weird. He just dresses weird.”

  I look at Reggie, but she just shrugs. “I guess you should be with who you want to be with. Must be nice to be you, though. Boys and girls like you.”

  “Please, Sana, just try!” begs Elaine. “I mean, what if you’re straight—or bi—and you just got a bad one that time? I mean, how do you know you only like girls?”

  “How do you know that you only like guys?”

  Elaine rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine. But I like the guy I’m with, right? So maybe you just haven’t met the right one.”

  “I have met the right one, and she’s a girl. She’s who I’m with. That’s my point. And what ever happened to you being totally cool with me being gay? What happened to being happy for me?”

  “I am cool with it. But she’s cheating on you, Sana. We saw her. You deserve to be with someone who knows they want to be with you. And Caleb’s so nice—you even said. You’d be such a great couple. I bet he wouldn’t cheat on you. And I’ve seen you flirting with him in trig, and you’re so cute together.”

  “I don’t recall ever saying he was nice. And I definitely haven’t been flirting with him.”

  At this, Hanh snorts and Reggie lets out a loud “ha!”

  “What? I haven’t!” Have I?

  “Whatever. But you do think he’s nice, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “Come on. He’s totally asking you out right now. Just go out with him. Just once. What do you have to lose?”

  “Uh, Jamie?”

  Elaine heaves a melodramatic sigh. “If it turns out Jamie’s cheating on you, then. Then you’ll try. Because it’s not cheating if she’s cheating, too.” I’m not even sure she cares about Caleb or me or gay or straight anymore—she just wants to win. She’s not a tiny, adorable little kitten, like Reggie says. She’s a tiny, adorable little pit bull and she’s clearly not going to let go until I give in.

  “Fine. If it turns out Jamie’s cheating, which she’s not—and Caleb tries to kiss me, which he won’t—I will try it. Jeez. Are you happy?” Everyone cheers wildly, and Elaine actually throws her arms around me.

  “You’re going to love it!” she says, squeezing me tight.

  Elaine’s campaign to get me to go straight is more funny than annoying when I tell Jamie about it. I’ve told Jamie that Caleb invited me to go bowling with him and his friends on Friday, and that Elaine wants me to kiss him. It’s kind of nice to have him in the background, actually, because it turns out that Jamie’s going to dinner with Kelsey and her parents on Friday, too. Though it’s not like I’m worried about Kelsey. Or that Jamie might end up falling for her again. Not at all.

  The thing is, since Jamie and I cleared the air about Kelsey, our afternoons together have been even better than before. It’s such a relief to have everything out in the open between us. I feel like we’ve cleared a hurdle—we had a hard talk, and we got through it, and we’re stronger for it. Also, there’s nothing more thrilling than hearing your girlfriend say that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her. And maybe just a teeny, tiny bit because, in an effort to make Jamie forget whatever intensity she had with Kelsey this summer, well . . . let’s just say I know a lot more about Jamie’s body than Elaine knows about Jimmy’s, unless she’s holding out on us. But Elaine has apparently never had an experience that she didn’t want to share, so I’m pretty confident on that point. Just a few months ago, I would have been shocked at myself. Now, I’m just happy and excited.

  The only glitch is the Dad problem. The more I look at that silver-wrapped box, the angrier I get. He’s uprooted Mom and me, and turned both our lives upside down for That Woman. And now he’s got the nerve to give her pearls? The pearl earrings were supposed to be our thing. They were a reminder of the story of Yama-sachi and Toyo-tama-himé—Dad’s promise to me that I was his treasure no matter what, his reassurance that he saw what was precious and powerful in me. Not only does he not love Mom anymore, it feels like he doesn’t love me anymore, either.

  I’m mad at Mom, too, for letting him do this to us. She has to know—how could she not? I’m sure she’d tell me, “Gaman.” She’d say, “Divorce is selfish.” But if you ask me, it’s Dad who’s being selfish, and her having gaman isn’t being strong. It’s just something she’s telling herself so that she feels better about hanging on to a sham of a marriage because she’s too weak and embarrassed to stand up for herself and make him stop.

  Jamie keeps telling me to just tell Mom straight out, even if she doesn’t want to hear it: “That way they can at least talk about it. Like we talked, you know?”

  The difference, of course, being that Dad was cheating and Jamie wasn’t. And that Dad could end up leaving, but Jamie won’t.

  Of course she won’t.

  28

  KELSEY AND HER PARENTS ARE PICKING JAMIE UP directly after practice to take her out to dinner and back home, so Jamie’s changed into an outfit that seems a little too cute for meeting someone’s dad so he can write a letter of rec, and she’s taking a little more time with her makeup than I think she needs to. She seems a little more nervous than I think is appropriate, too, but she says she needs to make a good impression on Mr. Bowman.

  Normally I’d walk right home, but today I end up hanging out with the kids who are waiting for their parents or their buses. I’m not gonna lie—I’m dying to see what Kelsey looks like. While I wait, I indulge in a little daydream where Jamie pulls me out of the crowd and introduces me to the Bowmans as her girlfriend. Of course, that would also mean coming out to the cross-country team, so I don’t really want that to happen. But it sure would be nice to watch Kelsey go skulking home, defeated. Or at least skulking defeatedly off to dinner with Jamie and her parents.

  When a black BMW sedan pulls into the parking lot at five thirty, the only person in it is Kelsey. She parks the car, gets out, and struts over in all her tall, hot glory. She looks like an Abercrombie & Fitch model. She’s wearing super-skinny jeans, and a mostly sheer off-the-shoulder white peasant blouse that would give Mom a heart attack. And is her hair salon-highlighted, or is it just naturally a rich auburn with reddish-gold streaks? And then there’s her delicate fairy princess nose, pool-blue eyes, rose petal lips (though that could be her lip gloss), and a complexion that could only be described as sun-kissed. The works. I mean, seriously. Come on.

  She surveys us and flashes a dazzling smile, and I feel dark and frumpy with my short, Hobbity legs, my non-see-through top, and boring black ponytail. “Hi! I’m looking for Jamie Ramirez.”

  Janet points toward the girls’ locker room door. It seems I’m not the only one who’s lost the power of speech.

  “Okay,” says Kelsey, tossing her disgusting salon-perfect, auburn-golden locks and pulling out her phone. “I’ll just wait here for her.”

  “Dude, is that the new iPhone?” asks Arjun.

  “It is.” She smiles at him.

  “Can I
see?”

  “Sure.”

  In a flash, Arjun—and three other guys—are at Kelsey’s side, huddled over the phone and grilling her about its cool new features. And clearly flirting with her. “Give it up!” I want to shout at them. “She’s a lesbian!”

  Janet elbows me and I’m about to whisper a mean-spirited comment about Kelsey’s fancy car and her perfect hair, but at that moment, Jamie bursts through the locker room doors.

  “Hey, sweetie! Omigod you are on fleek!” Kelsey abandons the boys, wraps Jamie in a hug, and steps back to admire her outfit, which also includes a peasant blouse, just not sheer and white. I look sideways at Janet and I’m gratified to see her looking back at me.

  “Hey, you too. Nice shirt.”

  “I know, right?” Kelsey laughs and slips her arm around Jamie’s waist. “Twinsies! Omigod, do you remember when . . . ?”

  “Oh, that’s right . . . yeah, totally!” says Jamie, and the two of them share a sparkly eyed, just-between-us look that twists my heart right out of my chest. Kelsey starts off toward the car with her arm still around Jamie’s waist, and says, “So okay, I’m so sorry, but it turns out my parents have this thing tonight, so they can’t make it, but . . .” and then they’re too far away for me to hear any more. I watch them as they cross the parking lot, hair bouncing, hips swaying and bumping together as they walk. Kelsey says something that makes Jamie throw her head back and laugh. They get into the car, slam the doors, and peel out of the lot, dragging my twisted-out heart behind them.

  Janet’s still standing next to me, and I can feel her looking at me. “Ho-ly shit,” she says. “Who says on fleek?”

  She doesn’t know about me and Jamie, I remind myself. She doesn’t know. But I feel like I’m broadcasting my dismay in big silent waves, like those pictures of radio antennas, so that everyone around me is receiving the signal and knows exactly what’s going on in my head. Stop it. Stop it or people will figure everything out. I will myself to shut down the radio signal, look Janet in the eye, and plaster a grin on my face. “Right? Oh. Mygod.”

  “That car, though,” she says, but before she can get going, I interrupt her.

  “Actually, I gotta get home. I’ll text you later, ’kay?” And I head off with a spring in my step and a stone in my stomach.

  I take an extra lap around the block, to make sure I’m not too much on edge when I enter the house. Reggie’s coming in half an hour to take me to Bowl-O-Ramen, this cool bowling alley-slash-ramen shop where we’re meeting Caleb and his friends.

  Mom may not like Jamie’s friends, but she’s now a hundred percent okay with Reggie and Elaine, whose moms she met randomly at 99 Ranch Market, the Asian superstore, the other day. “Reggie is good girl,” she said approvingly, when I asked yesterday if I could go out bowling with her tonight. “And Elaine is top piano player.” Which surprised me. I knew that Elaine was taking piano lessons. I had no idea that she was actually good at it, though it kind of makes sense, now that I know how determined she can be when she wants something.

  As I head out the door (“Ittekimasu!”) I have to squash a little pang of guilt at leaving Mom home alone, waiting for Dad to return from a night out with That Woman. But once the guilt is gone, it’s replaced with irritation at Mom for not doing something about Dad. The irritation is sharper than the guilt—pricklier—and it’s still sputtering at the base of my skull when I get in the car.

  I go to open the passenger-side door and I’m surprised to see Elaine riding shotgun already. “Jimmy’s having a boys’ night,” she explains, “so I got my parents to let me go with you.”

  “Cool.”

  I get in the back and settle in, and while I’m buckling my seat belt, Reggie says, “So, Janet texted us. Kelsey came by herself, huh?” Wow. She did not waste time. Can nothing be kept private? My irritation threatens to expand to Elaine and Reggie but I manage to rein it in. It’s not their fault that Kelsey is a beautiful, rich, conniving snake.

  “We’re so sorry!” Elaine says. “She’s a total bitch. I could tell just by looking at her.”

  “Really, it’s no big deal. I’m fine with it,” I lie. “Jamie’s totally over her, remember?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be fine with it,” says Elaine. “I mean, did Jamie even introduce you, or like, say good-bye or anything? Janet said she just took off.”

  “It would be weird if she only said good-bye to me. We’re not really out to everyone yet,” I remind her.

  “That doesn’t matter. Has she texted you?”

  I check my phone for the hundredth time since Jamie drove off with Kelsey in the BMW. “No.”

  “See? I mean, don’t you think she would’ve texted at least once? Just to let you know things are chill?” Another good point. “Plus, you know, they have history,” she says, as if this is the clincher. “Couples in movies get back together all the time because of history.”

  “Elaine, shut up.” Reggie says exactly what I’m thinking. “You don’t have to make it worse.”

  “I’ll just text her right now,” I say, and I type, Hey, girlfriend! How’s it going? That’s good. Light. Not jealous. Just a casual check-in. A subtle reminder to leave history in the past, where it belongs. I show it to Elaine and Reggie and send it.

  It’s a struggle, but as the evening goes by, there are longer and longer stretches where I forget about Jamie and Kelsey entirely. The sound system at Bowl-O-Ramen is blasting cheery oldies music, Caleb and his friends are friendly and funny, the ramen is yummy, and we all get along great. There’s no undercurrent of suspicion, no worries about saying something racist, no need to prove anything to anyone.

  I think Caleb’s friend Thom might be interested in Reggie. He certainly seems to be paying a lot of attention to her, and there’s a lot of playful pushing and shoving going on. Reggie looks so happy. I hope something happens between them.

  Meanwhile, Caleb is paying an awful lot of attention to me. He teases me about ordering extra seaweed in my ramen. He gives me tips on my abysmal bowling technique (he’s bizarrely, scarily good at bowling). He somehow ends up sitting next to me every time I sit down, with his arm slung casually over the back of my seat. Elaine keeps nodding and widening her eyes significantly at me. Ever the master of subtlety, she even gives me the thumbs-up at one point. It could be about Reggie and Thom. But it’s probably not. And even though I’m not into guys, not even nice ones like Caleb, it’s kind of nice to feel like he likes me. In fact—even though I’m not into guys—if I weren’t with Jamie, I might even consider him. Just to see.

  At eight o’clock, I check my phone for a text from Jamie. It’s been two hours, a bowl of ramen, and three rounds of bowling, and only one text from her: Hey, sorry about earlier. All good now. ttyl Not that I’m counting. Not that I’m worried. I trust her. She couldn’t help it if Kelsey’s parents didn’t show up, and she’s got every right to a private evening with her ex.

  I know I’m just torturing myself, but I open my Instagram and do a search for Kelsey Bowman. Sure enough, there’s a picture of the two of them—taken tonight, judging from their outfits and the fact that it was posted about thirty minutes ago. Squeezed together to fit into the frame, arms around each other, both looking beautiful and perfect and happy together in a darkened restaurant. Underneath, it says,

  hot date! #lafondue #rambo #flomobabes

  It’s already got a bunch of likes, and a couple of comments:

  omg yum!

  #flomobabes forever! LOL

  Jamie said she’d never mess with what we have. But what did she and Kelsey have? I look at the unintelligible hashtags under the photo. I think about the private smile they shared right in front of me. History. Is it enough to bring them back together, like Elaine says? I’m wondering what else Jamie and Kelsey’s history might include when some super-old oldies singer starts crooning, “Re-mem-ber whennn you held me ti-ight? And you kissed me all through the night?” It’s a catchy tune and I might even think it was cute if it weren’t
so close to home. Probably they did kiss each other all through the night. Four solid weeks of kissing, money, movie-star looks, and inside jokes.

  And suddenly I’m thinking about history again—my own history. I remember Trish, and how I clung to her even though she’d moved out of my league, even though she was never going to be into me. How I saw that first text to Dad when I was twelve and just pretended I hadn’t seen it. How it’s so obvious that Dad’s having an affair, that my parents’ marriage is a sham, and how I’m just letting it happen. And now, how Kelsey and Jamie are on a date at this fancy restaurant reliving their hot, historic summer together while I just sit around doing nothing, telling myself that Jamie wouldn’t just walk out on me.

  Elaine said I should be with someone who knows they want to be with me. I thought that someone was Jamie. She promised me she wasn’t into Kelsey anymore, but I was invisible to her when Kelsey was around. She said I was the best thing that ever happened to her, but here she is on a “hot date.” Jamie fell apart when Kelsey dropped her. “Breaking up is hard to do,” the song keeps saying. What if Jamie’s not as over Kelsey as she thought? Maybe Elaine is right. Maybe Jamie doesn’t really know if she wants to be with me, after all.

  29

  AT NINE THIRTY, IT’S TIME FOR ME TO GO HOME, Jamie still hasn’t texted me, and Kelsey has posted another Instagram pic—this time, it’s her pushing a chocolate-dipped strawberry into Jamie’s open mouth. The anxiety that’s been coursing through my veins all evening is starting to thicken into a sludgy, resentful sort of acceptance. Caleb offers to drive me home instead of Reggie, who wants to hang out a little longer with Thom. Why not, I say. Sure. Fine.

  All the way home, Caleb pesters me with questions about Reggie and hints about Thom, all of which I respond to a beat or two late because all I can think about is Jamie and Kelsey and the possibility that Jamie doesn’t know if she wants to be with me.

  “You’re in a weird mood.”

  “Huh?”