Chapter 15 #2
“You don’t think I can write an album good enough to stand on its own? Regardless of my relationship status?” I ask.
“Of course I do,” she says. “But this isn’t about you, Sasha. It’s about making sure people pay attention to Sassy.”
I gaze out the window, letting the slow progression of the highway numb me. Once the contract is over, I’ll be free, right? No more wondering about the boyfriend, no more articles about how in love I am. I can finally be something other than a girl in love.
I’ve been thinking about Kai and me living together. I don’t know how the news about our breakup would mesh with us finding a place. Why would Sassy move in with her recent ex?
Marissa regards me with a quizzical expression. “I saw the way Kai hugged you before we left … and the way he talked about you. Is it safe to say you guys are in … a better place? Are things back to the way they used to be?”
I hug my legs to my chest, letting my eyes drift out the window.
I mean, three months ago things were awkward and now they’re not, but I wouldn’t say things are back to how they used to be.
When Kai reappeared in my life, I was so anxious to recapture what we had, minus the romance.
But we’re no longer the same people, and I like this version of ourselves better.
It’s more seamless. I like the Kai who’s not my boyfriend.
He’s my best friend. A partner, of sorts.
“We are,” I say, hoping she doesn’t catch the edge of uncertainty in my voice. I don’t know how to discuss this with Marissa. Sometimes I feel like she wants me to be Sassy full-time. There’s very little space for Sasha lately.
“We should talk about the next steps for the breakup.”
“Let’s not do it now. It’s not something I can decide on my own. Kai’s part of this, too.” I shift in my seat. “I just don’t want to talk about this—”
“I knew it!” Marissa slaps the steering wheel with enough force to make the car swerve slightly. “You guys had sex, didn’t you?”
“Huh?”
“It’s okay if you did!” she says. “Why else would you hesitate?”
“But we didn’t.” My heart jumps. Where’s she getting this from? “We’re best friends.”
“Best friends or best friends?” She makes quotation marks with her fingers. I grimace, irritation flowing through me.
“Here’s what I don’t get: Why do you straight people call actual queer people best friends, even when they’re clearly a couple, but when a guy and a girl tell you they’re actually just best friends, you assume they’re into each other?
” My cheeks flush with anger. “This conversation is super awkward. I don’t see how my sex life is relevant. ”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad. It’s just how I talk to the girls, you know? It’s boy stuff. It’s fun.” Marissa chews on her lip, then the car descends into silence.
The thing is, I get it. Talking about relationships helps people bond. I like talking about this stuff with people I’m close to, like Mia, just not when it’s intrusive or ignoring the fact that I’m not straight, like Marissa is doing right now.
“I read online that some aroace people later discover they’re demiromantic or demisexual once they meet the right person.” The way she emphasizes the word right makes my skin crawl, like being in love is the only way for life to be right.
“I’m not demiromantic or demisexual,” I say, exasperated. I rub my temples. There are aro and ace people whose labels change over time, and that’s okay. I just feel like she’s forcing me out of my label, the one I feel most comfortable with.
Marissa pouts. “I guess I just noticed that you guys seem super close these days. Every time we talk on the phone it’s Kai this, Kai that.”
“Yeah, one, because we’re in a PR contract, and two, he’s my best friend.”
I don’t know how else to define it, other than Kai and I have a deep connection, and it’s not romantic.
“I’m only trying to protect you.”
“We’re not into each other, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No. What I’m saying is that you might not feel attraction for anyone, but I’m sure he does. If he gets with someone, we need to know.” She clucks her tongue. “He can’t be fucking somebody else while in a contract with you. If it gets out, it’d be disastrous for both of you.”
“He’s not seeing anyone. Don’t worry. I’d know if he was.”
My heart drops a little as I let out the words, but I chalk it up to the speed bumps on the road.
I will myself to forget about the conversation with Marissa and enjoy my time with Mia. I’ve been to New York a few times, but the city never ceases to amaze me, and I’m excited to explore it with her.
Her roommate is out of town for the weekend, so I get to crash in her apartment.
Her room is like a slice of home. Her wall is a gallery of memories, decorated with pictures of us and her family in the shape of a heart.
Her bed is perched on stilts like a throne, arranged with blankets and a bunch of pillows.
Her favorite plushie, an octopus I won for her at a claw machine, lords over the shelf, overlooking the handful of succulents and other plants that frame her desk.
The only thing that looks out of place is a book about the stock market that rests on her bedside table. Mia’s never shown much interest in finance, but when I ask her about it, she just shrugs and tells me she’s thinking of taking an intro to investing class.
It’s already late by the time I get there, and Mia’s tired from studying, so we pull out some air-dry clay and spend the evening molding them into cute shapes.
“Okay, my duck is done.” Mia squints at the lump of clay in her hand.
“That’s a duck?! I thought it was a potato with wings.” I blink, staring at it. “What happened to the face?”
“He’s seen some things,” Mia says, then points at my end of the table. “You’re one to talk! What’s that?”
“A giraffe?” I hold out my palm and show her my piece of yellow clay.
She suppresses a puff of laughter. “What happened to its neck?”
“It kept falling off, so I had to give up on it.”
We burst out laughing, almost knocking over our mugs as we collapse into giggles.
We leave our animals out to dry on her windowsill, and despite our failed creations, some turn out okay, especially after we started working together.
I smile at the pair of axolotls holding hands we made.
They’re not perfect, and they look like they’re rolling their eyes at us, but they’re my favorite.
As soon as we get hungry, we decide to order pizza and rewatch The Hunger Games. It’s been one of our favorite movies since we were little.
“Peeta brings out the best in Katniss. Gale doesn’t,” I say.
“Peeta never had a chance!” Mia slaps a pillow for emphasis. “If Gale had been reaped, Katniss would have fallen for him instead.” She flicks a leftover piece of bacon in my direction. “I don’t believe you! Isn’t best-friends-to-lovers your favorite trope?”
“Not in this case!” I say. We continue bickering like this for a while. And it’s perfect, because it’s us, the old us, like I’m holding a piece of the past between my fingers. When we get to the scene where Peeta and Katniss pretend to get engaged, Mia pauses the movie.
“Is it like that?” she asks. “Fake-dating someone. Are you and Kai like Katniss and Peeta?”
“We’re not forced by the government to be entertainment puppets,” I say.
“In a way, you are, no? Except the government is your fans.”
“I—” My stomach clenches. My fans are not the enemy. I’ve never felt like they are. I don’t know who the enemy really is. “It feels like acting, except nobody knows you’re acting.”
My eyes flicker to her blanket. There’s a loose thread poking from the edge. I curl it around my finger until my skin turns red.
“Your contract is almost done, right?” She switches to Spanish, as if worried someone might hear us through the walls. “What happens next? Do you have to pretend to hate each other afterward?”
If Asher and Rosa’s relationship is any indication, we might.
“I don’t know.” The thread snaps. I let it sit around my finger. “Kai sort of asked me to move in with him.”
“What?” She bounces in her seat, slamming her laptop shut. “What did you tell him?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I admit. “I want to try living by myself, but I don’t want to live alone, and it’d be kind of nice—”
“Sasha, you have to be careful,” she says, clutching my hands. “He’s not your boyfriend.”
“And I don’t want him to be. But I mean, he could be, like, a partner?”
Concern etches across her face. “Are you starting to have feelings for him?”
“No.” I’m surprised she’s even asking me this. “Definitely not. And I’m sure he doesn’t feel anything romantic for me, either.”
“So how would you be partners? You guys are just friends.”
“You know I hate that phrase. Just friends.”
“But how would that work? What happens when Kai falls in love with someone?” She shakes her head.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought so far ahead,” I admit.
“Sorry, that came out harsher than I meant it to. You should do what feels right.” Mia leans her head against my shoulder. “I just worry about you. I want you to be happy. But I’ll support you no matter what.”
“Just tell me your unfiltered opinion,” I say. I’d rather she tells me what she’s thinking without worrying about hurting my feelings. “Don’t hold back.”
Mia presses her lips into a hard line. “Okay, well, it’s just …
moving in together might seem like a good idea right now, but let’s say you do, and Kai finds someone.
It’s a little awkward that he’s living with his ex.
It’ll cause issues. And then when they start spending more time together, things will change between you again.
I don’t want you to be sad when they do. ”
“Maybe they won’t.”
A sliver of annoyance rises inside me. I want to tell her that she doesn’t get it, but deep down I know I’m the one who’s in denial.