Almost Straight Page 2

  “Want me to come with you?”

  My mouth fell open. “Um.” I did, desperately. But how weird would that be? Girls didn’t bring friends to a break-up speech. “That might be awkward.”

  “I don’t mean stand next to you while you do it.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll wait for you down the hall or something.”

  It occurred to me then that my bus would be leaving in about twenty minutes. I loathed riding the Big Yellow to school every day. Most juniors had friends or siblings, or even their parents to give them rides, but my dad went to work too early and my mom refused to drive me out of principle. Building character or some crap like that.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “If you want to, I guess. But I have to go or I’ll miss the bus.”

  She followed me out the door. “This is a speed break up?”

  “I guess. Or maybe I should text him.” The whole thing seemed like a bad idea now. What was I going to do afterward? Ask him for a ride home? How humiliating. I was seriously going to hurl any second now.

  “Just wait.” Liv stopped me by grabbing my arm.

  I was aware of nothing but her warm hand on my skin and the kids breezing past us in the hallway. I didn’t care about them, only her, and that she was touching me.

  “You don’t have to rush.” She smiled in a way that made me want to trust her. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to help? Why are you being so nice to me?” Seemed like a reasonable question. She barely knew me yet she offered to wait while I broke up with my asshole boyfriend then drive me home? As they’d say in one of my Sherlock Holmes novels, something was amiss.

  She looked surprised for a moment then shrugged. “I’m new and don’t have any friends yet. And you seem nice. You can say no. I won’t be offended.”

  I didn’t want to say no. I wanted to ditch Grayson and drive off in her car, which I pictured as one of those old convertibles – red of course – with the wind in our hair, singing (loudly) to pop music. I gave my head a shake to clear the silly fantasy. But what was the harm in letting her give me a ride home? It beat forty minutes on the yellow hell on wheels.

  “Okay.”

  She smiled.

  Sighing, I waved her forward. “This way to my locker.”

  We walked to the third floor so I could get the books I’d need for homework tonight.

  “Why are you breaking up with this guy anyway?” she asked once we reached my locker and the hallway cleared. Her voice switched to a girly falsetto. “Isn’t he, like, so cool and popular?”

  “Shut up.” It came out a grumble though I knew she was teasing.

  “I’m only kidding.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “You just don’t seem like the type to go for guys like him.”

  I perched a hand on my hip. “And how would you know? You don’t even know me.”

  “It’s not hard to guess what kind of girl you are.”

  My face burned. What did that mean? I didn’t even know what kind of girl I was. Liv was almost a stranger – though I did sort of feel like I’d known her a long time. But how could she know me better than I knew myself?

  Shutting my locker, I looked at her and said, “What kind of girl do you think I am?” I’d meant it as a challenge but it’d come out timid and insecure. I felt stupid after I’d asked. As if I needed Liv’s opinion on my life. For a moment, I wanted to shoo her away, just to show her, and myself, that I didn’t care what she thought.

  But then Liv smirked and my mind blanked. “You seem...open-minded.”

  “How can you tell that?” I’d never considered myself particularly open-minded – not after having been raised in a church that shunned anything and anyone who was different. I mean, I tried not to judge people, and I was way more accepting of “different” than my parents and church were. I didn’t have all the answers to life so how could I judge people for finding their own way of living? But I wasn’t sure if that was what Liv meant.

  “You’re hanging out with me, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. So?” Was there something wrong with her I’d missed? There was no scarlet A on her clothing or mark of the devil on her forehead.

  She chuckled then shook her head in what looked like disbelief. “You’re so naïve and it’s adorable.”

  My heart pounded loud in my ears. I still had no idea what she was talking about but all I could think of was how much I liked that she’d called me adorable. My other friends complimented my clothing or shoes, sometimes said a new haircut made me look pretty, but this felt more...personal.

  “Audrey!”

  When Grayson interrupted, I let out a breath of relief. I’d been fumbling around for a response to Liv’s weird compliment, staring at the ground, afraid to look in her eyes. Now I was off the hook.

  Sort of.

  “Hi.” I gave him a small wave then looked at Liv in panic.

  She leaned in and whispered, “Good luck,” then turned and disappeared around the corner.

  I knew she wouldn’t go far and felt some comfort in that.

  “What are you still doing here?” he asked, striding toward me. “I can’t give you a ride –”

  “I know. I have a ride.” My fingers twisted together. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you for a sec.”

  “Okay.” He peered around the hallway before coming to a stop in front of me. “I can’t stay long though. I have practice.”

  Of course. Nothing was more important than practice.

  “So what’s up?” His lips curved up on one side.

  My stomach did a flip. That was the look that had won me over a month ago. A cute, little smirk that made him look like a bad boy gone good. His steel gray eyes dipped down then up, perusing my body, and it made me feel desirable. And a little self-conscious, but mostly desirable. Other girls – weaker girls – would have drowned in that look. But me, I had standards. And someone waiting for me I was too embarrassed to chicken out in front of.

  Just spit it out. I tugged on my purple polka dot skirt then cleared my throat. “I don’t think we’re a good match, Gray. I mean, you can see that, right? We have nothing in common. We had fun for a while and I really liked spending time with you...” Kinda. “But we don’t really have long-term potential.”

  He stared blankly.

  I waited, worried he’d flip out, or say something mean, or just storm away. His face was unreadable. Finally, he sighed. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  Guilt ate at me. I didn’t like hurting people’s feelings. Even people I didn’t particularly like. With a sympathetic smile, I added, “I’m sorry. You’ll find someone else though. Everyone loves you. You’ll be okay.”

  He sort of smiled then. “Of course I will. Do you think you’re the first girl to break up with me?”

  At that, my face heated. “Well, no.” I sputtered a moment.

  Then he snorted. “It’s not a big deal, Audrey. You don’t even have to give me the staying friends speech.”

  “We could...stay friends.”

  “Nah. You’re right. We had nothing in common.” He shrugged. “See you around, Audrey.”

  Then he walked away without a backward glance. Ouch. The brush-off hurt. I should’ve been glad though, right? No tears, no mess. It was the easiest break-up ever. Still, his dismissal burned.

  Liv reappeared. “How’d it go?”

  “Um.” I stared down the hallway, though he was gone. “Good. I think. He didn’t even care.”

  “Oh.” She smiled in sympathy.

  “Oh well. Better than a fight, I guess.”

  Shaking her head, she followed my gaze to the empty hallway. “Jerk. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

  I forced my body to move and we made our way to the student parking lot. Freedom High had felt large and overwhelming my first year here, but new students who’d transferred from bigger towns or cities said it was tiny. I hated feeling sheltered. In my entire
sixteen years, I’d only experienced a tiny fraction of what the world had to offer. I had dreams of bigger and better – though they were foggy at best.

  A thought occurred to me halfway through the lot. “How do you have your license?” Most juniors were still driving with their learners permit, usually until their senior year. My parents were dragging their feet about taking me for my learner’s permit so I had nada, as my Spanish teacher would say.

  “I’m seventeen.”

  “You’re a senior?”

  “No. I had to stay back a year. My dad’s in the military. I fell behind from moving so much in sixth grade that I repeated.”

  “Oh.” For some reason it totally fit that she’d be well-traveled. Probably cultured too. Meanwhile, I’d lived in the same house since I was a baby and I’d never been farther than northern Michigan for vacation. “Where’d you move from?”

  “This time? Seattle. I liked it so much better there.” She stopped then dug in her bag for something. “It’s much more...progressive.”

  “Progressive?” I gave her a puzzled look but she only smiled.

  Once she found her keys, she opened the car door – first my side then hers. Liv’s car wasn’t a red convertible, to my dismay. It was a blue beat-up Kia. The inside was trashed – torn seats and garbage on the floor, but it still beat the school bus.

  When she threw her bag in the back, I caught a glimpse of something I hadn’t noticed earlier. A rainbow patch, sewn onto the bottom corner.

  I froze. Sheltered as I was, I still knew what it meant.

  A strange feeling crept into my body – shocked excitement. Liv was a lesbian. A real lesbian. In the flesh. We didn’t have many of those in our conservative little town in the northern stretch of the Bible Belt.

  There were rumors circulating about a few guys in the drama club but they kept to themselves. I didn’t know of any lesbians.

  I must’ve been staring at the patch because Liv asked, “Do you know what that means?”

  I nodded. When I finally turned my gaze to her, I expected to see embarrassment or shame. Instead, she looked amused. “Are you scared of me now?”

  “No.” I wasn’t. But I felt compelled to make certain things clear. “But I’m not... I, uh. I don’t...”

  “Like girls?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s okay. I forgive you.” She winked then started the car. The automatic windows didn’t work so she cranked the air conditioning to cool the stagnant September air.

  Guilt swept through me. I wanted to keep Liv as a friend. I’d never met someone so interesting and different, so I didn’t want her to think this changed things. In that way, maybe I was more open-minded than others at school. “No offense. I mean, I think you’re pretty and all but...”

  Jesus. The more I talked, the worse it sounded. I was making such a mess of this.

  She chuckled. “The feeling’s mutual. Too bad you’re so straight.”

  “So straight?” I laughed nervously. “Are there varying degrees?” I was joking, trying to clear the air, which felt hot and suffocating.

  Why the hell aren’t the windows working?

  “There are varying degrees of everything.”

  Most people I knew spoke in absolutes. My parents said there were some things that weren’t gray – like homosexuality. It was right there in the Bible – thou shall not have gay sex. Or something. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to hate Liv, or at least not be friends with her, but I didn’t feel like doing either.

  “But... I thought you were either born gay or not.”

  “I was born gay.” She laughed. “But there’s a whole spectrum of sexuality.”

  She was starting to sound like one of the “liberals” my parents were always complaining about. Still, I found myself intrigued and dying to know more. “Like being bisexual?”

  As few lesbians as there might have been in town, there were even less bisexuals. Unless they were in hiding. I couldn’t blame them if they were.

  “Sure,” she said casually. “But I believe certain people are born open-minded. There doesn’t have to be a label. You can just love who you love, you know?”

  That sounded nice. Like some kind of hippy-anything-goes society. My parents would thoroughly disapprove, which kind of made me want to befriend her all the more. But again, I felt the need to clear things up. “I don’t think I’m that open-minded.”

  She took her eyes off the road for a second and gave me such a cocky look, she could’ve rivaled Grayson. Amused cocky, kinda sexy, not asshole cocky like Gray.

  “Okay,” she said simply then turned her gaze back to the road.

  Chapter 3

  “How’s school going, pumpkin?”

  My dad always called me that. One day, not long ago, I’d told him I was too old for the nickname. His face had looked so heartbroken, I’d brushed it off as a joke. So he still called me pumpkin and I still got embarrassed by it.

  “Good.” Vague answers were essential when dealing with parents, especially the meddling kind. And mine were definitely meddling. They called it “check-ins,” at Pastor Dan’s suggestion. It was annoying, but apparently keeping me off crack and out of gangs. Like there were any of those in Freedom, Indiana.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing that report card.” He kissed my forehead on his way to the door. “My all honors straight A girl.”

  I would never disappoint them by getting anything less than a B+ but it wasn’t all about pleasing them. I cared about my future. Well, I had no idea what kind of future I wanted, but I cared that I had one anyway. My mom tried to pin me down for answers about career choices and colleges regularly but my mind just wasn’t there yet. Wasn’t senior year for that? I mean, how could I pick what I wanted to do for the rest of my life at sixteen? It just seemed like a huge commitment yet parents acted as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

  The guidance counselor had said the same thing. The career recommendation exam was supposed to help but it’d recommended I become an actress. I hated public speaking. I mean, I liked to talk alright, but not in front of an audience. It was so far off the mark, I’d laughed and tossed it in the garbage. My mom had said it was because I had a flair for the dramatic. Maybe I was more like Audrey Hepburn than I’d thought. My mom loved the icon so you’d think she’d be happy about that, instead of rolling her eyes and sighing at me all the time.

  My dad usually left for work before I woke up, but today I’d been laying awake for two hours before my alarm. A sense of excitement filled me and I couldn’t figure out why. Well, I had an inkling of why but it was kinda weird to think about so I pretended it was something I’d eaten. I wasn’t fooling myself though. For some crazy reason, I was excited to see Liv.

  I’d introduce her to Gabby and Taylor today. They’d love her. Taylor could be a little picky but who wouldn’t like Liv? She was funny and nice and when she smiled, the room seemed to brighten.

  “I’m leaving now, Mary,” my dad called up the stairwell.

  “Coming!” she answered back. They had a routine they performed every morning. It was sickening – like something out of a fifties sitcom – but they swore it kept their marriage strong.

  “Why are you up so early?” my mom asked me as she trotted down the stairs. Before I could answer, she kissed my dad on the lips then straightened his tie.

  My dad turned for the door.

  “Oh! Don’t forget to meet Ben at hockey practice tonight, Roger,” she yelled as he walked out the door.

  “I know, honey.”

  My mom was one of those people that woke up bright-eyed, put on her mask of make-up before even coming down the stairs, and always dressed like she was being followed by hidden cameras.

  As if people at the grocery store cared what she looked like. But I suspected she had some serious issues about getting older. She’d been striving to be the quintessential stay-at-home Betty Crocker mom her whole life. That was her purpose. I doubted she even knew how to get a jo
b at this point. Thank god my dad had a stable one that kept our little nuclear family fed and clothed.

  “So?” She smiled at me. “What are you doing up so early?”

  “Um. I have a test I’m nervous about. That’s all.” I couldn’t very well tell her I was excited about a new girl in my class. That would be weird and she wouldn’t understand. Even I didn’t understand. It was best to keep my “open-mindedness” a secret for now.

  Despite how my mom looked as an adult, she’d never been popular. In fact, my theory was that she dressed nice and had “class” because she’d been kind of a loser, not that I’d ever tell her that. But I’d seen the yearbook pictures. And anytime they talked about bullying at church, she always took special interest in making sure that wasn’t a problem for us.

  She didn’t see the irony in worshiping Audrey Hepburn while caring about her appearance so much. Audrey had class but from what my mom quoted at me, she was all about embracing inner beauty. Maybe my mom didn’t think she had inner beauty so she compensated with outer beauty. If that was the case, it was unbelievably sad. I wished my dad would tell her how beautiful she was, but he was busy with work, and they’d been married so long they didn’t see each other that way anymore. When I got married, I’d always tell my husband how handsome he was – even when he had hair growing out of his ears and his skin was all wrinkled up.

  “You’ll do fine, sweetheart.” She said on the way to the kitchen. “Now what can I make you for breakfast?”

  If I said eggs, hash browns, pancakes, and bacon, she’d have done it. “Toast,” I answered instead.

  I had English first on Tuesdays. Liv did too. There was an extra bounce in my step as I walked there. Even though she didn’t sit near me, just knowing I’d see her face made me grin all the way to class.

  She was already in her seat, staring at the door. Was she looking for me too?

  Our eyes met. She smiled and a flurry of butterflies took off in my belly. There were still a few minutes before the bell rang so I went to her desk.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” she said back.

  We stared, awkwardly grinning at each other for a few seconds. “You should sit with me at lunch,” I finally said.