The One Percent

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The One Percent Page 4

by Tara Wimble


  “Oh, so it’s my stuff that gets thrown out.” Bella crosses her arms, forgetting they were all that was holding up the suitcase which subsequently tumbles out of the car. They both watch it fall and break open.

  Jacque lifts an eyebrow in amusement but moves forward in interest. “Are those cutoffs?”

  Bella mumbles something that sounds like ‘maybe’.

  “Very nice,” Jacque crouches down and starts to skim through the selection, mentally sorting through which ones she’s going to steal frequently. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “What?” And now Bella doesn’t even know what’s happening.

  “Let’s get these bad boys in the car.” Jacque starts throwing them back into the suitcase.

  “A second ago you were ready to set that bag on fire and now you’re ready to play car tetris?”

  “Yep.” There’s a few ways that Jacque can shift things around to maximize the space and it doesn’t take long until the bag that stumped Bella is safely tucked away behind the passenger’s seat. She spots a keyboard slotted between some other boxes. “There you go, all done.”

  Bella frowns as Jacque walks away back towards her car. “I don’t understand you!” She yells after her but receives a sarcastic wave in response.

  “Get in the car, Bella.” She yells as she ducks into hers. “It’s a long way to Toronto.”

  *

  “Are you not-” Jacque pauses and looks to find that she can no longer see Bella in her direct line of sight, they’re supposed to be unloading their cars into the apartment but mostly it’s been Jacque doing the heavy lifting while Bella disappears. She scans her eyes across the complex once more to find Bella lying across a bench by the pool. Throwing her arms up in exasperation would be the appropriate response if she wasn’t currently lugging Bella’s keyboard from the car to the door. She yells across the way. “Bella, get up and come open the door.”

  “Can we take a break for like five minutes?” Bella yells back, not making a move to get up. “We drove ten hours today, I’m beat.”

  The factual nature of that statement aside, and adding on to the fact that Jacque had also driven the four hours from Louisville to Urbana the night before and was rightfully exhausted as well, this was a thing that needed to get done. Because once all of the shit was in the house then they could relax and know that there wasn’t any other reason they had to leave. Ordering takeout and more than likely passing out before they even got it would be on the menu after that.

  But if they took a break now then it was likely that they would actually just skip to the part where they passed out and then their things would just a) be sitting there in the car and b) the motivation to actually move them at some point would start to wane.

  That’s how you end up driving around with a suitcase full of cutoffs in your car for a month.

  So she decides to go about it a different way. “I will drop this.” She threatens and watches as Bella makes an inclination towards moving for the first time.

  “Do not drop that!” Bella shouts out and swings herself off of the bench.

  “Oh wow,” Jacque feigns discomfort. “I can feel it slipping. Better hurry.”

  “You better not.” Bella warns as she gets closer and closer, actually blowing completely past Jacque to walk to their door.

  With a triumphant smile Jacque follows, readjusting the not particularly heavy, just cumbersome, item in her arms and strolling to the door.

  It’s open when she gets there and she can’t help but smirk. “Was that hard?”

  “Don’t push your luck.” Bella gripes. “Is that almost everything?”

  “Just about.” Jacque says setting the keyboard down on her couch. “Just a few more bags and we should be set.”

  “Finally,” Bella yawns out, stretching her arms over her head. “I think I’m probably gonna sleep for a whole day.”

  “We get the rest of this stuff inside and I’m right there with you.” Jacque walked back out to the cars to grab the last few things, pleased to see that Bella was following right along with her this time.

  And surprisingly without even a complaint.

  With a little effort they were completely done, at least carrying everything inside, by the time the sun started to set and completely passed out by the time it was all the way down.

  *

  Bella isn’t bad to live with. She’s mostly tidy and all jokes aside she manages to fit most of her things into Jacque’s small guest room and keeps her promise by cooking every now and then. The thing is, she’s still a twenty one year old girl with soccer on the brain, living miles away from anyone that she can actually call her friend.

  This means that when Jacque comes back from the gym or from helping out at the university Bella is usually in various states of dress, dribbling a ball or lounging around in front of the TV watching hockey. Jacque’s not even sure Bella knows the rules.

  Jacque drops her bag on the floor with a sigh. It could be worse, she often thinks, she could be more annoying and less cute and Jacque wouldn’t have this much patience with her. In all fairness, the apartment is tidier than it once was. When she’s out and Bella isn’t working, she takes great pleasure in cleaning only to mock Jacque for her unworldly ways when she gets home. Jacque would be offended but everywhere looks so clean that she can’t even complain.

  Bella has a job that Jacque got her in the University of Toronto athletics office handling recruiting paperwork but it only keeps her busy for a certain number of hours a week and the rest are left for Bella to fill on her own time. Jacque has entertained her desire to explore for a few weeks now but she’s got a routine to fall back into now and that doesn’t revolve around helping Bella get around Toronto.

  “How was the gym?”

  “Tiring.” Jacque responds. She clutters around in the kitchen looking for the blender container until Bella shouts that it’s in the dishwasher. “There’s a new girl on the counter-”

  “Is she single?” Bella teases.

  Jacque snorts and plugs the blender in before she goes about looking for all the fruit and powders to put in it. “-she was saying they’re going to lower the joining price for new members. I thought you might want to sign up.”

  Bella hoists herself up off the couch. “Sure. Wait, are you saying I’m fat?”

  Jacque scoffs. Bella might be shorter than her and built differently, as she keeps protesting when they swap cutoffs, but she’s anything but fat. “I’m saying that you’ve been fixed to that couch for longer than I’ve been at work this week.”

  Bella slides alongside her. “They’re not muffin tops, they’re for grabbing-”

  Jacque swats at Bella as she gets in the way of her blending process. “Stop, hey- hands.”

  “My future wife doesn’t find me attractive-” Bella nudges her. “How will I cope?”

  Jacque dumps the strawberries in first. “You’ll go the gym and steal my attention away from attractive receptionists.”

  Bella grabs two glasses and Jacque’s amused at how she’s suddenly making shakes for two. “Of course, dear.”

  She thanks her when Jacque shares even though she knows Jacque didn’t intend to. Bella puts the container back on the side, to wash later, and asks what she feels like for dinner. It’s so domestic that it takes her aback a little. Bella has her moments of maturity, even if she has broken several glasses from knocking them off the table with her juggling.

  When Bella has taken her shake back to the couch, Jacque works up the nerve to bring up something she’s been dancing around for a while. “We’re inviting your family here for Thanksgiving.”

  Bella frowns, checking her mental calendar. “American Thanksgiving?”

  “Canadian.” Jacque flicks through the mail she left this morning, picking up a bill to look at. Bella frowns in mock confusion.

  “Canadian’s have thanksgiving?” Jacque hits her with a letter.

  “Hey.” Bella protests. She takes a sip of the shake and then asks
; “Why are we inviting my family to Toronto in October?”

  Jacque takes a drink and then goes about opening the letter without taking into account Bella’s reaction to her next revelation. “Um, so you can break it to them that you’re engaged.”

  Bella freezes. “Shit, I have to fake come out?”

  “No, you have to actually come out.” Jacque sees the flash of confusion on Bella’s face. “As Canadian and as gay I suppose.”

  “Or, and I’m just throwing this out there, we could also not do that.” Jacque rolls her eyes at Bella’s evasive maneuvers.

  “So what’s your endgame?” Jacque shrugs sarcastically. “Call them right before the wedding?” Bella stares her down. “Or is that too soon? Maybe once you’re a citizen. That should be fun.”

  “Jacque--” The shake is forgotten momentarily. Jacque stares jealously at it as she finishes her own.

  “Just rip off the band-aid. It has to happen sometime.”

  Bella gets very quiet. She looks down at the ground and Jacque waits for her to be ready, finally she speaks up softly. “What if they hate me?”

  Jacque places her glass down as Bella’s small voice chimes oddly in her chest. “Hey,” She switches from the armchair to sit next to Bella on the couch. “You shouldn’t think like that.”

  Bella shrugs. “It’s hard not to. This is gonna come out of nowhere.”

  Jacque pulls her into a hug, rubbing her shoulder until Bella leans against her. “Your family loves you.” She guesses mostly because they’ve never met but they’ve supported her through the tough times that befell her before they’d met.

  “But what if this ruins that?” Bella mumbles into Jacque’s shoulder. “What if they can’t understand?”

  Jacque is tempted to remind her that, ‘hey, you’re not actually gay or coming out, you’re just faking it’ but it doesn’t seem like something Bella would respond well to at this point. Her own family experience was a lot smoother because she wasn’t lying to them when she came out and she definitely didn’t have to come out as Canadian.

  “They might not understand. Hell, they might get mad.” Jacque pulls back so she can look in Bella’s eyes. “But you won’t lose your family.”

  “Are you sure?” Bella clings on to the hope that Jacque’s giving her even though she knows that there’s no way she could make this promise. But it’s still some sort of reassurance. And that’s a start.

  Jacque pulls away and mentally takes a healthy step back. “Call your family. It’s gonna be Thanksgiving, Canada style.”

  *

  She gets back from the university a few nights later and is man-handled onto the couch. Given a drink, a bowl of snacks and a flashcard before she can get a word out. Bella stands on the opposite side of the coffee table in shorts and a polo that look oddly familiar to her.

  “Okay, here’s the backstory.” Bella pulls out her own flashcard. “We met a few years ago, I won’t say when because my mom will instantly assume college-”

  Jacque sees where this is going. “Way to make me sound old.”

  “-and you were a coach-”

  “You could just say we met in the soccer inner circle.” And it’s going to get more complicated.

  Bella puts the hand not holding the flashcard on her hip. “Then she’ll freak out because that sounds like some lesbian frat house.”

  Jacque holds up her hands in surrender.

  “-so we met, you coached, we went on the coaching course and got to talking-”

  Jacque trails on. “I eventually asked you out for drinks and charmed you-”

  Bella quickly vetoes with her own correction. “Dinner. Because alcohol and lesbianism doesn’t have a good track record in my mother’s mind.”

  She tilts her head. “I cooked for you.”

  “Did you also spike my food and drag me into your bedroom?” Bella deadpans. “Stick to the card.”

  Jacque waves her hand. “Go on.”

  “It was a nice meal, yadda, we kept in touch, yadda, then we finished the course and I realized that ‘hey I wasn’t looking forward to saying goodbye to you’-”

  “This is the least believable shit ever.” Jacque points out. “Do you want me to revoke your temporary gay card?”

  Bella throws her hand up. “What do you suggest?”

  “That you tell her that this came out of nowhere and you didn’t expect it and let me just-”

  “Just what?” Bella exclaims.

  Jacque gestures to herself. “Charm.” Then to Bella. “Awkward Palm Tree.”

  Bella stands still. “That’s not a plan.”

  Jacque looks her dead in the eye. “The minute your mom walks in the door, I promise you, she will be so convinced that we’ve had sex in every room in this house that you won’t even need to tell her. She’ll just guess.”

  Bella’s jaw drops.

  “I know.” Jacque sits back. “I’m that good.”

  “You’re going to kill my mom.” Bella announces. “And don’t even get me started on my sisters.”

  “That might be easier than listening to you fumble through all of our tender sapphic moments.” Jacque ponders. “Sisters?”

  “Yeah. One twin.”

  Jacque makes an interested face. “Tell me more.”

  By this point Bella’s flashcard is folded and dented out of the sheer frustration. If it wasn’t obvious, Bella’s turned bright red as well. “You are not helping.”

  “Okay, here. Quit the tomato act.” Jacque stands and takes the flash card and the pen from behind Bella’s ear.

  “What are you writing?”

  “New plan.” Jacque scribbles along the spaces and then hands it back to Bella.

  Bella reads aloud. “Just go with it.” She squints at the message as if there’s more to it. “Just go with- that’s not a plan.”

  Jacque runs a hand through her hair. “Do you know what we’re doing now? We’re having a disagreement. A spat. A mini argument. Over your mother.”

  Bella blanks.

  “Do you realize how domestic that is?” Jacque asks. “Plus you’re wearing a polo shirt with shorts.” She looks down. “And loafers. With laces.”

  Bella assesses her outfit with a confused gaze. “I’m not seeing a point.”

  “You’ve got the gay down.” Jacque states outright. “I’m surprised the lesbian bat signal hasn’t just flashed on the wall and you’re not jumping out of a window to fight the patriarchy.”

  “That’s offensive.” Bella points out as Jacque brushes past her into the kitchen. “And we’re not done.”

  “It’s not offensive.” Jacque opens the fridge. “Because you’re not gay.”

  Bella mumbles a weak response but catches up to Jacque in the kitchen to be passed out a drink. “If we can’t get through this, how the hell are we going to do the rest of this?”

  Jacque searches for a bottle opener. “You say ‘we’ like-”

  “Jacque.” Bella sighs in frustration. She rummages through the drawer that Jacque just passed and pulls out the opener. “Be serious.”

  “I’m always serious.” Jacque says. “I’m just lighthearted about it.”

  At Bella’s expression, Jacque turns down the playfulness in her reply.

  “Look, it’s not going to be as bad as we’re making it out to be.” Jacque theorizes. “Your mom, sisters and your brother are gonna come here, love you, love me, and then life is going to go on smoothly.”

  Bella bites her lip and Jacque takes her bottle to open it for her. “You’re sure?”

  Jacque pulls the top off. “Yeah. Like, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  *

  Bella leans over the kitchen counter pretending to be preparing food like the steam coming from the stove will drown out her voice. “I’m getting a stress headache.”

  Jacque switches on the microwave just to have the loud machine cover them even more.

  “You’re getting a stress headache?” Jacque whispers. “Your mom is stari
ng at me like she knows exactly which wall I’ve had you against and your sisters are staring between us like they’re waiting for something to explode.”

  “They’re just curious! I moved to a different country without much of a warning.” Bella wafts over the pots before blinking. “You haven’t had me against any walls-”

  “I know!” Jacque hisses. “But I look into her eyes and I honestly believe I have. I can only stall for time for so much before-I-tell her. ”

  “I don’t think we can do this.” Bella winces. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “The longer you put this off, the worse it’s gonna get.”

  “Why am I doing this?”

  “Soccer. National Team Soccer.” Jacque pauses. “For Canada.”

  She’s been thinking of why she’s been doing this ever since her mom called to say they were five minutes away. It had been a big, big ask for her to make of them to come to Canada, especially to celebrate a thanksgiving that they didn’t usually take note of.

  The final five minutes before they’d arrived, that weren’t devoted to Bella buzzing around Jacque as she watched all the food cooking, were spent straightening things out on the table. That is, until Jacque remarked that she was trying too hard.

  “They’re not going to figure out your homosexuality if everything on the table isn’t straight.”

  By that point she’d had enough snarky comments and flung a small pillow at the back of Jacque’s head. She wasn’t pushed enough that she didn’t instantly apologise though.

  Jacque had been the one to open the door to her brother. It was probably the best case scenario when Bella thinks about it. Jake had blocked the way into the door for a good few seconds, long enough for him to beam at Jacque and introduce himself, before her mom and sisters could cast their judgment on Bella’s ‘roommate’.

  As far as first impressions go, they’d made the effort for it. The guest room had been cleared of Bella’s things and if her family were to wander in there they’d probably raise questions but, as Jacque had pointed out, if they brought it up first there was less chance of Bella blurting it out and saying it all wrong. The rest of the apartment had been cleaned within an inch of its life. Everything laid out perfectly and food prepared in advance. Bella had never taken point on Thanksgiving preparations before but had managed to the best of their ability.

 

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