Chapter 8
Eight
“ O kay, maybe it’s more than a little get-together,” Mia said when they pulled up to Daniela’s house in Tori’s Jeep. Over a dozen cars were packed into the driveway, street, and part of the yard.
Tori’s fingers curled over the steering wheel like they did when she was nervous. The desire to save Tori from her own anxiety pushed Mia to put a hand on her denim-covered lap.
“It’s just people from high school,” Mia reminded her.
Tori’s knuckles turned whiter. Her entire body pulled as tight as a rubber band about to snap.
“Hey,” Mia squeezed her thigh. “If you don’t want to go, we can leave?—”
“No,” Tori said like she could physically will herself to chill out. “It’s fine.” She glanced at Mia. Streetlights did a terrible job of illuminating her face. “Just girls from high school, right?” She said it like she was about to hurl over the side of the Santa Maria.
“Right,” Mia agreed. “But honestly, I can feign food poisoning and we can go get something to eat instead.”
Tori cracked a smile. “No need to reenact getting out of Caro’s quinces .”
Mia laughed, the forgotten memory roaring back to life. Tori had been part of one of Caro’s fourteen dancing pairs at her extravagant fifteenth birthday party. Two nights before the big day, Tori confessed in the darkness of Mia’s bedroom that she didn’t want to go. That she didn’t know the dance routines well enough and was worried about embarrassing herself in front of two hundred people. Naturally, Mia concocted a story about bad ham and shamelessly feigned illness for both of them. Pretending to have the shits had been a small price to pay to spare Tori the discomfort.
“I’m going to have to expand my bag of tricks,” Mia said, relieved that the color was returning to Tori’s face.
While Tori looped around the cul-de-sac to park on the opposite side of the street, Mia wondered for the millionth time why Tori had disappeared after high school. Why she seemed so set on cutting off that part of her life. They’d had nearly the same experience during those years. A good group of friends, just enough involvement in extracurriculars to have something to write about in college admission essays. Parties, dating, fun. Why the hell did Tori look like she was being marched toward a guillotine glinting in the sun?
Mia wanted to ask the obvious questions, but she wanted Tori to feel comfortable enough to tell her on her own. Mia didn’t mind being pushy—she rather enjoyed it—but this was the wrong thing to pry about. There was a reason Tori had distanced herself, and she wanted Tori to want to tell her why.
“Here, you got Daniela a very nice Pinot Grigio,” Mia said when they were out of the Jeep and walking toward a newly built house that looked identical to every other house on the block.
Tori took the black bag with the bottle inside. She quirked one objectively spectacular brow, gaze darting between her bag and the one Mia was holding.
“What?” Mia asked with a little grin.
“You got identical bags,” she replied with unusual delight swimming in her endless brown eyes. There was a what-are-people-going-to-say energy to her observation.
“I know your mom taught you not to look a supermarket wine horse in the mouth,” Mia shot back, perspiration already making the thin material of her short, floral romper stick to her lower back. She didn’t know how Tori wasn’t miserable in skinny jeans. Especially ones so tight that they made her modest booty look fantastic.
The moment Tori knocked on the door, it swung open. Daniela, the only tall blonde in their class, greeted them with a booming, “Oh, my God!” She crushed Mia in a hug first, even though they’d seen each other a few years earlier at their ten-year reunion.
“I’m so sorry about Eric and your mom,” Daniela whispered in her ear after kissing her on the cheek.
“Thank you.” Mia gave her a squeeze in return, but didn’t let her words sink in. She didn’t want to think about anything other than hanging out with old friends.
“Victoria Cruz, I don’t believe it,” Daniela said when she turned her attention to Tori, who was still standing on the front step even though Mia had gone inside. “I haven’t seen you in so long.” She flung her arms wide. “You look fucking amazing!”
Olive skin flushed red, Tori smiled and stepped into the house and into Daniela’s embrace. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Walking through Daniela’s house and meeting her silver fox neurosurgeon of a fiancé was a blur. Daniela had apparently invited everyone from their senior year and almost all of them had dates. It was a flurry of bright hellos and shock at Tori’s proof of life.
By the time they got to the smaller gathering on the patio, Mia was exhausted. Surprisingly, Tori looked a lot more comfortable than Mia expected.
“You want a drink?” Mia asked when Tori sat in a white canvas deck chair.
At least there wasn’t music and the noise of a hundred conversations outside—just half-a-dozen guys vaping. Guys Mia assumed were dates who’d also gotten overwhelmed by the chaos inside.
“I can get it. What’ll you have?” Tori replied in the tone she’d used when Mia walked into her agency.
All at once, Mia understood why Tori seemed so at ease. She was wearing her work persona like a Halloween costume.
“You sit,” Mia insisted, wanting Tori to drop the act for a few minutes. To give herself a rest. “What do you want?”
Tori’s shoulders relaxed, and Mia knew she’d nagged in the right direction. “Anything.”
With a smirk, Mia confirmed, “Anything?”
Knowing her too well, Tori chuckled. “Anything that’s not tequila.”
Mia booed before turning on her heels and starting for the unattended bar and the row of massive marine coolers behind it. Deciding against the hangover-producing hard alcohol lined up on the bar, Mia opened the first cooler to inspect its contents.
“I’ve never gotten orange-flavored beer,” a man said when Mia picked a bottle out of the ice to see what it was. “It just seems wrong, you know?”
Mia looked up at him and shrugged. She couldn’t say that she’d ever formed an opinion about beer in her life. It mostly all tasted fine to her.
“Sorry, um, that was a terrible line.” He smiled, cheeks turning a cute shade of pink. “I think you’re not supposed to open on a negative.”
Mia straightened and returned the smile to put the poor guy at ease. “Are you taking a crash course on how to talk to strangers?” She opened the next cooler.
He shifted his weight and cringed. “It’s actually a dating class.” His skin flamed bright red. “Here’s another thing I’m not supposed to say. My name is Paul and I’m dating for the first time in fifteen years.” His laugh was riddled with nerves. “Because I’m recently divorced,” he added, like Mia would otherwise think he’d been in prison.
“You don’t look nearly old enough for that,” Mia said, intending a compliment. “Were you a child bride?” She pulled a wine bottle from the ice before holding out her empty hand. “I’m Mia and I’m in the middle of a divorce,” she said, because it was all but technically true.
Paul relaxed like he’d been holding his breath. “We were high school sweethearts,” he explained. “You?”
“College,” she replied. “It’s cute when you’re the first of your friends to get married and the first to get divorced.”
“Right?” He grabbed a plastic wine cup. “There should be a prize for that.”
“You mean you want more than the crippling shame?” she joked, but didn’t hand over the bottle when Paul offered. Instead, she reached for a second cup and put them both on the bar to pour two glasses.
When Mia turned, she realized three girls Tori had played basketball with had found her outside. Ashley had pulled one of the chairs as close as possible to Tori. Her expression was incredibly animated and her mouth was moving so fast.
What the hell are they talking about?
Without being able to see Tori’s face, Mia couldn’t tell whether she wanted the company. She rushed to splash too much wine in each cup so Tori wouldn’t be stuck making small talk on her own.
“We should start a support group,” Paul joked, but Mia didn’t take her eyes off Tori.
“They say it’s like riding a bike,” she tossed behind her, glasses in hand and moving to where all the patio chairs were annoyingly taken. “Keep getting up if you fall on your face!”
Paul said something in return, but Mia didn’t catch it. Her attention was on Ashley, sitting unnecessarily close to Tori.
“Only the best Publix chard for you,” Mia said before presenting Tori with the generously poured glass.
When Tori started to stand, Mia put a hand on her shoulder. She was tempted to sit in her lap like she used to, but resisted the urge. Something about Ashley was throwing Mia off.
“What are we talking about?” Mia asked with a mostly genuine smile.
“I was just asking T about Jen,” Ashley replied, before taking a sip of beer.
T? Mia bristled at the unnecessary shortening of what was already a freaking nickname.
“Jenny Amador?” Mia’s attention darted inside. They’d chatted with her for a few minutes and she seemed normal. “What happened to her?”
Ashley chuckled like Mia was a moron. An adorable dolt.
Mia narrowed her gaze.
“Bartender Jen,” Ashley explained after a beat. “From Lavender Lounge?”
Tori was motionless. Her body language saying something like a sinkhole would be great right about now .
“Who we both had the misfortune of dating.” Ashley’s glance floated to Tori like Mia would finally connect dots she didn’t know existed.
“Oh, right!” she lied through the shock. “ That Jen.”
Ashley continued talking, but Mia couldn’t make her brain pay attention. She was sinking into a confusing vortex of noise. There was no way Tori dated women and never mentioned it. No way. They’d always known everything about each other. Mia had shown Tori how the hell to wear tampons, for fuck’s sake.
But the more Ashley said, the more apparent it became that she knew Tori better than Mia did. That they apparently knew the same people. People Mia had never heard of… No, not people. Women. Women that dated other women.
Mia’s stomach soured when she realized Tori was avoiding her gaze. Sifting through their years of friendship, she hunted for what she could have done for Tori not to trust her. Had she ever made some dumb off-hand comment to make her think she wouldn’t accept her for who she was?
Maybe Tori hadn’t known back then , Mia thought to slow the spiraling. If she’d known something as huge as her sexual identity, she would have told her. They’d always told each other everything. She repeated it like a mantra and gulped her wine.
An eternity later, Mia was tipsy and numb when she climbed into the passenger seat of Tori’s Jeep. She’d spent the last three hours running through conversations in her head, formulating how to address the rainbow elephant sitting between them.
Her imagined self was calmly nonchalant. The picture of cool and collected with all the right words coming out in the exact right order.
When they were finally alone and Mia opened her mouth, her mother’s I’m-not-mad-I’m-disappointed voice shot out instead. “How could you not tell me?”
Tori didn’t turn on the car. Sitting in the dark, she didn’t look over at her when she replied, “It never came up.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Mia’s heart was thundering and her brain was a beehive. “Do you still date guys, too?”
She’d never been so devastated not to know something so important about someone she loved. She didn’t know what to say. It was all she could do not to blurt that her favorite coworker was gay. Even with her head spinning, she was sure that wouldn’t ease the suffocating awkwardness.
“A little in college.” With her hands balled in her lap, Tori focused on her steering wheel. “But…um…I’m definitely a five on the Kinsey Scale.”
Mia wished she could pull her phone out and look up what the hell that meant. She didn’t know there was a scale. Then again, sexual identity wasn’t something she’d ever thought much about at all.
“Is this a problem for you?” Tori asked, looking up at her for the first time, eyes glistening and cleaving Mia’s heart in two.
Mia didn’t know how she had any tears left, but there they were, rushing up to blur her vision before she wiped them away. “How could you think that of me?” She couldn’t hide the spider cracks in her voice.
When Tori swallowed so hard that it echoed in the Jeep, Mia shifted in her seat. She leaned forward to take both of Tori’s clammy hands in hers. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me care about you any less, Tori.”
Her chest burned when Tori looked away like she didn’t believe her. She desperately wanted to ask if this was why she’d pulled away from her all those years ago, but resisted. She wanted Tori to believe that she still loved her as much as she had when they were kids. That knowing everything about her could only make her love her more.
“You’re having a huge reaction for someone who’s cool with things,” Tori finally said when she looked at her again, fear joining the mist in her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She squeezed Tori’s hands. “I just can’t believe freaking Ashley Mora knew something about you before I did.” She shook her head. “You didn’t even like her all that much in high school. You said she was a ball hog with weird breath.”
Tori flashed her the briefest dimple when she breathed a chuckle. “ That she remembers,” she said like she was talking to someone else. “It’s not like I’ve hidden who I am, Mia.” She relaxed, squeezing Mia’s hands before letting them go.
“You just didn’t want to tell me in particular?” Mia wanted more than anything to understand. There was a universe of things Tori was holding back. Mia knew her well enough to know that, at least.
“It’s not like that,” Tori replied without offering what it was like.
“Did you think I wouldn’t understand?” Mia asked softly, keeping her tone free of judgment. “Because I would—I mean, I do.” She ventured a little smile. “I’ve kissed girls before, you know. I’m very cool and progressive.”
Tori rolled her eyes before she smirked. “And how many of those were drunk kisses for the male gaze?”
“Oh, don’t get all high and mighty.” The pressure building in Mia’s chest eased. “A dip in the lady pond is a dip in the lady pond, okay?”
Tori chuckled and shook her head. Mercifully, she pushed the button to start the car.
“So, are you dating anyone? What happened with that bartender? Do you have a type?” Mia fired off questions while Tori drove out of Daniela’s neighborhood.
While answering most of her questions, Tori relaxed.
“Did you know in high school?” Mia asked when the energy between them returned to normal.
She wanted Tori to say no. To say that she’d never kept anything about herself a secret. Not from her. Mia couldn’t stand the idea of Tori dealing with anything on her own. She rather hear that she’d discovered herself in college like so many people did.
“Yeah,” Tori whispered, shattering Mia with a single syllable.