I guess I could understand a little. I mean, she was captain of the cheerleading team and she hung out with the so-called popular crowd and seemingly had everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was in the running for prom queen. If it was fake, it was obvious that it had worked for her.
I shook my head at myself. I was thinking way too much about this. She was definitely just a horrible person and would continue to be so. Such a shame because she was definitely pretty. So, so pretty.
“Ungh,” Grace moaned on Saturday. We were hanging out at her house, stuffing our faces with pizza and garlic knots and marathoning Faking It. I didn’t want to watch it, but Grace did, so I’d caved. The thing that made me not want to watch it was the fact that the two main characters were pretending to be a lesbian couple to get popular at their liberal high school. I had to look away every time they kissed. I hated the way it made me feel. Not bad. Good. Really good.
What the crap was happening to me? It was like I’d flipped some sort of switch and now all I could do was notice girls in a way I had never thought to notice them before.
“Hey, I forgot to ask, how’s class going with Stella?” Grace said. I hadn’t been thinking of Stella up until that moment, but the instant Grace said her name, I couldn’t get her out of my head.
I laughed nervously. Great.
“She’s still the worst,” I said, and Grace was preoccupied by the show and didn’t see how weird I was being.
“I think she’s one of those girls who will always be terrible, but good things will continue to happen for her. Like, she’s blessed or something,” Grace said. She was blessed all right.
UGH. I needed to stop having those thoughts. But how did you stop your brain from thinking? Other than doing permanent damage.
“Yeah,” I said, and got up to stretch.
Grace looked up at me from her position on the floor.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“Yup. Just going to get another soda,” I said. “You want anything?” She shook her head and I headed to the kitchen. Her house was quiet since her mom was at the hospital where she worked as an ER doctor and her dad barely left his law practice. Another reason we hung out at Grace’s a lot was that her house was five thousand times nicer than mine. It was also about three times the size.
I pulled a Coke out of the fridge and leaned on the marble countertop of the kitchen island for a minute. When I was little, I used to be terrified to make a mess in such a pristine house, but now I was more comfortable. It still didn’t feel like a home, more like a movie set, but Grace’s room was cozy and comfortably messy.
What was going on with me? I mean, I thought I knew, but that was impossible. I mean, I was straight. Always had been. I’d had plenty of crushes on boys and wanted to get married and all that stuff. I mean, not right now, but in the future. He’d be nerdy and sweet. We’d watch a lot of Doctor Who and maybe cosplay and he’d work for a lab or something.
I had it all planned out. That was what was going to happen. It was what had to happen.
This whole thing with Stella was just a distraction. I was just . . . I don’t know.
I peeled myself off the counter and went back to Grace’s room. She was laughing her ass off when I got there and pulled me back down to the floor to fill me in on what I’d missed in the show. But my mind was still reeling and my stomach churned as I sipped my soda. The churning had nothing to do with the carbonation.
I was a big fan of research. If I didn’t absolutely know everything about a subject, I was determined to learn. So when I got home on Sunday after crashing at Grace’s, I locked myself in my room, pulled out my laptop and opened a search engine. I had to figure this out.
My fingers shook at little as they hovered over the keys.
I typed in a few letters, erased them, typed again, erased them. That went on for at least ten minutes until I finally typed in how do I know if I like girls? and hit Enter.
And then clicked out of the window before I got any results.
Stella had her bitchface back on Monday. I should have been relieved, but it didn’t stop the little fluttery feeling from starting in my chest. She really was a beautiful girl. I wished I could get my eyebrows to look like that.
But her personality was horrible, which was fair. No one should be both gorgeous and have a stunning personality. I was just praying that we didn’t get assigned to work together. Fortunately, Mr. Hurley had us read passages aloud, starting with me and going down the rows and back up. I hated reading out loud, but I suffered my way through it. I snickered to myself when a few of the other kids in the class stumbled over some of the more difficult words.
And then it got to Stella and I riveted my eyes on my desk, so I wouldn’t look at her. She started to read and for some reason, her voice got all low and melodic and holy shit. She didn’t stumble on any of the words and didn’t read it in the same robotic voice as everyone else. She read as if she was on stage, doing a dramatic recitation and I looked up to see if anyone else was being affected by it like I was.
A cursory glance around the room said no. I felt my face going red and I looked back at my desk. She finally finished and sat down. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her look over at me. I wasn’t going to turn my head because then we’d make eye contact and I just couldn’t.
English class had never been fraught with so much tension ever in my life and I just wanted it to be over.
There were several feet of space between me and Stella, but I wished there were miles. I just couldn’t NOT be aware of her. Every time she touched her hair, or moved her legs, or breathed, I was aware of it. She had skinny jeans on that hugged and accentuated everything, a filmy top that I could never pull off, and cute little ballet flats. As always, her hair was perfect.
I wanted to run away, but class was almost over. I made a frustrated sound that was louder than I thought it was. Finally, I turned and saw Stella giving me a puzzled look. I just wanted to grab her snotty, stuck up face and . . .
I raised my hand and asked to go to the bathroom. Mr. Hurley let me go and I nearly knocked my desk over in my haste to leave the room. I nearly fell when I got through the door because my brain was moving faster than my feet, but I caught myself on the wall and headed toward the bathroom. I didn’t care how it looked; I was camping out in there until English was over.
It was only ten minutes. I could do it.
I had about two minutes left before the bell rang when someone came through the door. I had sequestered myself in the last stall, hoping that no one would notice that I was standing.
I waited for them to pick one of the other stalls, do their thing and leave, but the footsteps just kept advancing until the person was right near my stall. I wondered if I should flush or something, but then whoever it was spoke.
“Kyle?”
I don’t know what made me do it. But she looked so freaked out and she’d hurried so fast to get out of class that I couldn’t just sit there. What if she was sick and needed help?
Okay, that was a flimsy excuse, but it didn’t stop me from asking Mr. Hurley if I could run to the office for something. If someone else had asked, he probably would have said no, but he liked me too much and went ahead and let me go.
I figured she’d gone for the bathroom, so I headed that way and saw her black Chucks under the door of the last stall. I didn’t hear anything but her breathing, so I decided to risk it.
“Kyle?” Silence. “Are you okay?” She coughed and the toilet flushed before she pushed through the door. Her face was totally red and I wondered what the hell I was doing. Why had I followed her in here like a total stalker?
I needed to turn around and run away. There was no easy way to salvage this situation.
“I’m fine,” she said, and it sounded like those two words should end with a question mark. “Why are you in here?”
I opened my mouth to answer and then the bell rang. Two sec
onds later, the door opened and we weren’t alone. She pushed past me and headed out the door.
I stood there for a second before a girl gave me a nasty look. I gave her one back and left, heading to my locker.
My dad had kept his word about the car, so on Saturday he’d taken me shopping and I was now the owner of a new-to-me vehicle.
“Not bad,” Midori said when she got in after practice. It had a lot of upgrades over my old wheels, namely the leather interior and Bluetooth capability. I’d already synched all my music, which was awesome.
“Not at all,” I said.
“So,” she said, taking down her ponytail and combing her fingers through her hair. “Everything okay? You were a little out of it today.” I knew she’d noticed. After the weirdness with Kyle, I was off the rest of the day. I forgot to be so much of an asshole and got some strange looks from my friends when I wasn’t at my normal level of icy composure.
I was able to throw myself into practice because we were working on heel stretch double downs and I had to focus or else I would seriously hurt someone.
“Yeah, fine. Why?” I switched the songs to have something to do.
“Don’t know. You just seemed . . . off.” I flipped through songs until Midori put her hand on mine to make me stop.
“Stel.” I looked at her and then back at the road.
“I’m fine. I just don’t want to talk, okay? I just . . .” I gripped the steering wheel. I knew Midori wouldn’t care about me liking girls. I knew it wouldn’t change anything. But actually saying the words out loud and telling her was something I just couldn’t do. Not yet. College. I would be who I wanted to be in college. It just wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t ready.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She pulled back and I was so grateful. The pressure to tell her weighed on me, but it was a weight I could deal with. I’d been handling it for years.
So why did it suddenly feel like it was crushing me?
“How’s the car?” Dad asked when I got home. He had dinner ready, but I wasn’t that hungry.
“Great. The heated seats are going to be a bonus in the winter.” He smiled at me and we chatted about this and that for a few minutes, but then my phone rang and it was my brother. I answered at the table.
“Hey, Gabe,” I said.
“Hey, Star. How’s life?” My brother was the most upbeat member of my family. And I was a cheerleader.
“Good, how’s school? You failing yet?” He laughed.
“Hell no. Dean’s list, Sis.” I rolled my eyes. Stupid smart family full of overachievers.
“You would. Are you having any fun?”
“Here and there. Not the kind of fun you’re thinking of. I don’t think passing out on the sidewalk naked and being found by campus security is my idea of a good time.” I agreed and we talked more about his classes and campus life. He was so lucky to be in New York and surrounded by so much culture and life and diversity. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of Maine.
Dad motioned for the phone and I handed it over so he and Gabe could chat about his assignments and his recent articles he’d had published. I knew that was going to take a while, so I took our plates and rinsed them in the sink.
After Dad was done, I took the phone and headed into my room so I could talk to Gabe without Dad overhearing.
“Okay, so tell me what you’re really up to now that I’m not sitting next to Dad,” I said, flopping on my bed.
“Nothing. I told you, I’ve been a good boy. I honestly don’t have time to get shitfaced with all the work I’m doing in class and on the paper and freelancing. You’ll understand when you get to college next year. It’s so much more work than people say it is.” I could believe that, but I could also believe that Gabe was taking on too much. He always did. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to run himself into the ground before he turned thirty.
“Have you even been on a date?” I asked. I would much rather grill my brother about his love life than talk about mine. Or lack thereof.
“Not really. I’ve been doing the casual sex thing.”
“Ugh, TMI, Gabe. TMI!” I wished I could throw a pillow or something at him. He just laughed again.
“I’m kidding. Sort of. Sometimes this girl from one of my study groups comes over, but usually we’re so tired that we just pass out before we can even get to the sex. I figure I’ll get to have sex when I graduate.” I rolled my eyes at him, but he couldn’t see.
“How’s your love life? Any developments there? Still sticking to the ‘no dating until college’ rule?”
“Yes, I am.” I didn’t sound sure. Oh, hell.
“Is that some hesitation I hear in your voice? Did you meet someone?” He didn’t specify a gender. We hadn’t for a long time. But I still hadn’t told him that I wanted to date girls.
“No. Definitely not.” I didn’t sound sure about that either. But just as I thought he was going to start interrogating me, I heard someone call his name.
“Shit, listen. I have to go, but we need to have a longer talk soon. Oh, and when are you coming to visit?” I always flew down to see him at least a few times a year on our school breaks. He took me around the city and we went shopping and he let me see what it was going to be like to be a college student. I couldn’t wait to get back.
“I can’t remember the exact day our break starts on, but I’ll text you.” We said goodbye and hung up. I was actually relieved that I didn’t have to talk to him anymore.
Gabe was perceptive as hell and I was ninety percent sure he already knew. Once again, saying the words just seemed impossible. For the millionth time in my life, I wished I just liked boys. I’d tried. Sometimes I still tried. I’d look at a popular male actor or model and ask myself if I found him attractive.
Nope. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was like looking at marble sculpture. Pleasing to the eye, but I didn’t want to buy it.
Kyle still floated in the back of my head. She’d been lurking there all day in all her adorable glory. She really was cute as hell. I was an idiot for ignoring it so long. Now I couldn’t see anything else.
She had definitely looked freaked out in the bathroom today, but that was probably because she hadn’t expected me to come and find her. I groaned and rolled over onto my stomach. I was such an idiot. Why had I done that? Things were going to be so awkward on Wednesday when I saw her again.
I turned back over and put my hands behind my bed as I stared up at the ceiling.
I was just going to go back to avoiding her. It would be easy. Totally easy. Impossibly easy.
I didn’t look up when I walked into class and took my seat, but she was there, fiddling with her hair. She let it down long enough for me to see that it hit the middle of her back before she swiped it up again.
I’d considered saying something, or apologizing about the bathroom weirdness, but my instinct told me to just let it go and pretend it hadn’t happened.
And then, in his infinite wisdom, Mr. Hurley said the words that every student dreaded, “Okay, pair up.” I searched around the room, but in the seconds after he’d spoken, the pairs had already formed, as if they’d just been waiting for this moment. There was the sound of desks sliding and people moving seats and then it was just me and Kyle.
I looked at her and she looked at me and it was inevitable.
“Guess I have no choice,” I said, trying to sound bored while my heart was beating roughly three thousand miles a minute.
“Yup,” she said, sounding irritated. Mr. Hurley handed out our assignments. Great. We had to pick from a list of topics, write a three page paper together and do a presentation for the rest of the class. We were going to have to work together for the next two weeks.
Oh, hell.
I was really beginning to hate Mr. Hurley. Did he understand how horrible it was to make you work with someone you didn’t want to work with? Hadn’t he been in school once? Maybe it was too long ago. He was old and had gray hair.
/> Whatever the reason, I had to look forward to working very closely with Stella for the next two weeks. No way around it. She and I would have to work in-class and outside to get everything done. Great. Just great.
“So . . .” she said, grabbing the topic list before I could reach for it. “I think we should do the one about feminism. Because Jane Eyre’s clearly a feminist text.” I hadn’t even seen the choices and I wanted to smack her because that did sound awesome.
“Do I get a say, or are you just going to do the entire thing yourself?” I said, my tone dry. She raised one absolutely perfect eyebrow and handed me the paper. I scanned the topics and I could feel her studying me. I pushed my glasses back up my nose and looked at her. I hadn’t really absorbed what the paper said and I couldn’t tell her that.
“Fine, we can do the feminism thing. But I want to write the paper. I type really fast.” She gave me another eyebrow raise and I tried to do it too, but failed. My eyebrows weren’t that coordinated.
Something passed over her face and she slid her eyes back down to the paper.
“Fine. But I get to do the presentation.”
“Fine.” I was absolutely fine with that. She was much more of a performer than I was, with the cheerleading and all. I’d probably end up stumbling over my words and messing it up. Stella probably knew that too.
There was a moment where neither of us knew what to say. The quiet hum of talk seemed distant. It almost felt like the two of us were completely alone. And then Mr. Hurley walked over and cleared his throat.
“Better get started, ladies.” He gave us a Stern Look and I glanced at Stella. For a brief second, I could have sworn she was holding in a smile. But she smoothed her expression like a wrinkle out of fabric and it was gone.