9 Celeste
W hen Celeste first got Gemma’s email, the last thing she expected to happen was for she and her ex to be pressed against each other, lip-locked while a local band scream-sang “Jingle Bell Rock.” But life’s full of surprises.
Gemma’s lips are warm and impossibly soft, just the way Celeste remembers them being. Even the flavor of the beer is familiar, since Blue Moon was always Gemma’s favorite. Celeste is pretty sure the last time she tasted Blue Moon, it was on Gemma’s lips, too.
Celeste lets the kiss go on for longer than she should, but she pulls away before their tongues can touch. Because she is not French-kissing her ex. Not now, not ever.
Fortunately, San Francisco is one of the gayest—if not the gayest—cities in America, so no one in the bar looks twice at them. But Celeste tenses up anyway, out of habit. The consequences of growing up in a highly homophobic family.
“Gem,” Celeste says. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Huh?” It’s clear from Gemma’s voice that she’s definitely not all there at the moment.
Luckily, Gemma’s able to sit herself back down in her chair. But she slumps forward and rests her head on the table soon after that.
Celeste sighs. In retrospect, she should have known better. Gemma was a lightweight when they last drank together, and apparently that’s not something age and experience can help with. Or at least, it’s not for Gemma.
Celeste can’t blame Gemma for mentally checking out for the night. Although she’s glad they got everything out of the way, her heart still aches from the stress of digging up the past.
Celeste wishes she could order another drink—or two. But of course, she can’t, because someone has to make sure they get home safely. To someone’s home. Probably her own. Or, at least, her Airbnb here in SF.
With Gemma so incapacitated, Celeste has no other choice.
When their rideshare driver arrives, Celeste lifts Gemma up from her chair. Luckily, Gemma’s pretty petite, so she’s able to princess-carry her without any issues. Why make a drunk girl walk when Celeste can carry her and avoid any more falls?
In her arms, Gemma is soft and warm in a not unpleasant way. Celeste tries her best to ignore how her own skin tingles from how close the other woman’s body is pressed against hers.
On her way to the door, a lot of people, a good chunk of them drunk out of their minds, cheer them on. One guy makes a disgusting comment about “hot lesbians,” and Celeste rolls her eyes. Drunk or not, he’s lucky she has her hands full, because she’d have punched him otherwise. She knows she shouldn’t be surprised by his perverted outburst, but she still kind of is. Some men really are the worst.
When Celeste places Gemma in the back seat and walks over to get into the other side, she gets a flashback from the last time she saw Gemma, which also included someone getting too drunk and needing an Uber home. It occurs to Celeste that she has no idea what kind of life Gemma lives now as a twenty-nine-year-old. For all she knows, getting drunk or being around drunk people is a normal part of Gemma’s current lifestyle.
Her ex had never been the partying type when they were in college, only going to the occasional gathering with Celeste when their friends invited them out. So even though Celeste shouldn’t care about Gemma or give a fuck about how she lives her life now, Celeste can’t help but feel a bit worried. This isn’t the Gemma she used to know.
As the car takes them back to her place, Celeste finally lets herself stare at her ex. Like herself, Gemma has a few more curves, sunspots, and wrinkles than she had in college. Her long hair is dyed a chestnut brown, and she does her makeup differently now, with more blush and glossy lipstick. But she’s just as adorable and beautiful as Celeste remembers her being. Maybe even more.
While they were dating, Celeste joked that Gemma was the perfect combination of cute and sexy. Exactly Celeste’s type. And that hasn’t changed at all in the last eight years.
Just thinking about the kiss they shared not even an hour ago stirs something inside Celeste that she didn’t know she still felt for Gemma. She has to force herself to look away.
Sure, they’d kissed, but there’s no telling if Gemma’s even interested in her that way anymore. A lot of people randomly kiss or hook up with an ex when they’re drunk.
Almost on an impulse, Celeste checks Gemma’s left hand. Sure enough, no ring. Just a small indentation around her finger. So the breakup was recent, then. A rush of relief—one that Celeste knows she doesn’t have any right to feel—washes over her at the thought of Gemma being single again.
Just then, Celeste’s phone lights up with a KakaoTalk message from Min-joon. Did you meet her?
It’s in Korean, like all her messages with Min-joon and their other friends in Seoul. She’s fluent in both languages, so without much effort, she switches her phone keyboard language from English to Korean to reply, Yes .
Her phone immediately lights up again, but this time with an incoming video call. Celeste immediately declines it. Not now. I’ll call you back later .
As fun as it would be to tell Min-joon about what happened in the last couple of hours, it’d have to wait. Gemma, she knows, is a light sleeper. It’s a miracle she hasn’t woken up yet for this entire car ride.
When they arrive at her Airbnb, Celeste has to remind herself that, even though she still knows Gemma’s little quirks, like her low alcohol tolerance and her sleeping habits, she and her ex are practically strangers now. It’s no longer any of her business how the other woman lives her life. Or if she’s single.
After tucking Gemma into her own bed and washing up for the night, Celeste makes up her mind. She has to keep her distance from her ex while they work on this project. Or at least, she has to, emotionally. Developing new feelings after all these years will not only be a distraction from the project at hand, but also probably a fool’s errand.
And “Modern Love in Focus” is much too important, for both her and Gemma, to be ruined by drama, past or present.