Chapter 7 Heaven
Heaven
“Okay, my princess.” I peek out from the pantry as Mom comes jogging down the stairs, Fergie and Di trailing behind her. “You sure you don’t want to come?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” My mom is meeting a few of her friends from dental school for lunch. They meet up once a month and talk about crowns and veneer technology, I think. They are really nice, but the conversation is boring.
“Okay, well, your dad will be back by four and then we’re going to the movies with Rick and Kelly. You have your Olive Garden leftovers—”
“And all the Whole Foods snacks I can handle. I’ll be fine. I should probably get started on my online portfolio for Miss Kelly.”
“Perfect. Just text me if you and the boys decide to go out.”
“Won’t happen. Ax has to work today, and Jake had his first night shoot last night. He said he’s sleeping all day.”
Mom comes around the kitchen island and kisses me on my forehead. “Well, at least you’ll see them tomorrow for Skate Church, right?”
“Right.” Every Sunday for as long as forever, Jake, Axel, and I have spent at the skate park with our dads. My dad used to joke that it was our religious experience, our community gathering at the park, but over time it’s become just that exactly. I’m glad we’ve stuck with it.
I look down at Fergie, who is sitting between my mom and me, hoping someone will pet her. I scratch the back of her ear and ask the real question I’ve been thinking about since we left the store. “Um—do I really have to hang out with Saylor Ford?”
“What—no, honey. Not if you don’t want to.” Mom laughs. “You and Saylor can navigate that however you want. Just be nice if she reaches out to you.”
“I will.” I almost twitch at the idea of Saylor actually messaging me.
We’ve been around each other a lot, but again, we have nothing in common, except Bethany and Jake, and I guess the fact that she’s gay now.
Still, I don’t think Saylor and I need to hang out one-on-one. This weird lump forms in my throat.
She’s a lot to look at, even with that big scrape on her face covered in ointment.
She has a big personality and is nice too, but just not my vibe.
It means nothing that we have one thing in common now, and I really, really wish that tiny part of my brain hadn’t picked this exact moment to cough up the idea of Saylor and I together.
Like, together together. We don’t like each other like that.
She would definitely never like me like that.
I swallow and absolutely do not think about what it would be like to kiss Saylor Ford.
“If you’re good to go, I’m outta here,” Mom says.
“Okay.”
Mom squeezes my hand and then grabs her keys. She directs the dogs to their beds, but before she can get to the garage door, there’s one more thing I want to say.
“I really appreciate you and Dad keeping it chill online,” I call out. “I mean I know you support my gayness, but thanks for not dedicating a whole post to it on the Bright Smiles Instagram page.”
“No problem.” Mom laughs and then she heads out the door. “We will do our best to never mind your business.”
“You’re a real one, Mommy.”
· · ·
It takes me a full episode of Call the Midwife to figure out what I’m actually going to do with my day.
I decide to go back through all of my favorite pieces since freshman year and pick a bunch to post. That’ll stress me out enough for one day.
I’m about to go up to my room to go through my stuff when the doorbell rings.
I tell the dogs to stay and then head out to grab it.
I’m right by the door when the bell rings again.
“I’m coming!” I call out. I glance out the side window and make a noise deep in my chest when I see Saylor Ford standing on our front porch.
I’m not really sure what to do. I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath and then open the door.
It’s easily eighty-five degrees out, but I don’t know if the heat blast to my face is from the weather or the fact that Saylor is at my house.
I’ll be honest. I’ve spent a lot of time trying not to look at Saylor.
She’s like walking around in real life with a beauty filter fine.
Perfect, big curly hair and nice lips. It’s hard not to have the hots for her on principle.
I don’t think there’s a single person at our school who isn’t a little bit in love with her beauty, but I know it makes no sense for me to even think about her like that.
Or at least it didn’t when I thought she was straight, but now—actually, there’s no but.
It’s not happening. Saylor and I have no business sharing the same oxygen, but she is at my house now. And she’s sweating.
“Uh, hey.”
“Hey, Heaven,” she huffs with a smile. “Can I come in?”
“Oh yeah. Come in.”
“Thanks.” She steps inside and thankfully notices our bench and our shoe rack. She steps out of her white Converse and turns to me, still smiling.
“Do you want some water or something? You look—hot.” This is why I don’t talk to people.
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”
“Come on,” I say, nodding toward the kitchen. She follows me, and I’m glad at least part of my brain is still functioning. I don’t drop the glass I reach for and even manage to fill it with ice and water before I hand it back to her.
“Thanks.” She’s still cheery and I’m still very confused. And then I feel bad as I watch her awkwardly use the fingertips on her right hand to steady the glass as she holds it in her left. Carefully, she sets it down with a refreshing “Ahh!” and looks back at me.
“So?” I shrug.
“Yeah. Hi. Thanks for letting me in and for the water.”
“No problem. What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”
“Glory lives down the street. Remember?” she says.
I didn’t forget that one of her besties lives at the end of the block, but that still doesn’t make what’s happening right now less weird. “Did you walk here?” I really want her to say no, but she nods and then laughs.
“Yeah. It wasn’t a good idea, but I was kind of desperate.”
“Okay…what’s going on? And why didn’t you just text me?”
“Little trick I learned from my mom. It’s hard for someone to say no to your face. Also, I’m not above begging.”
“Alright. Now I’m scared. What—”
“I need to play bingo with you. Please let me do the bingo thing with you.”
I consider myself to be a pretty smart person, but I’ve never been more confused in my life. “Why?!”
“I’m guessing your dad set it up so it’ll at least take you a few weeks to get a bingo, and don’t you get like extra prizes or something if you clear the whole board?”
“I mean yeah. If I clear the board, we’re going to Disneyland, but we’re gonna go to Disneyland anyway.
It’s more the spirit of the game.” I don’t know how to explain to Saylor that my parents aren’t really good at telling me no.
Usually when I ask for something, they just say okay, but that’s not the issue at hand.
“Okay, well, forget about the prizes. It’ll take you most of the summer to clear the whole board. Let me do it with you.”
“Why?” I ask again.
“Did you watch the video? The one my mom posted about me coming out to her.”
My face suddenly gets hot. “Uh, yeah, I saw a part of it, but not the whole thing.”
“Oh, so you missed ten minutes of my mom literally crying about how good of a parent she is and how my gayness makes our family more complete, aka more interesting, for her to talk about online.”
“Uh, no, I didn’t see all that. Geez.”
“Yeah. It’s a lot and I can’t take it anymore,” Saylor says.
“I thought you were really into all your mom’s content stuff and, like, how she goes all out. I thought—” I stop myself from saying what’s on the tip of my tongue.
“You thought what?”
“I mean. I thought you liked all the attention.” I know it doesn’t qualify as the nice thing to say, but it is what I think.
Saylor’s mouth pops open before she closes it again.
“When I was little it was fun making hair videos with her, and then when she really started making money, she gave my sisters and me a cut of every post we were in. Well, she still does, but that’s not the point.
Heaven, has your mom ever really embarrassed you? Like really really embarrassed you?”
“I wouldn’t say really really, but we’ve had a few close calls.”
“Well, my mom embarrasses me all the time, and it’s only gotten worse this last year. And now, I’m stuck at home with my mom, and if she has her way, we’ll be making content together every day. During school, I’m too busy, but now I got nothing but time. You have to help me.”
I glance over at the dogs, watching this bizarre interaction from their dog beds. Then I look back at the half-empty glass of cool water on the island. I get what she’s saying and what she’s asking me, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.
“Saylor, you’re a swell gal and I’m happy you’re gay, but no.”
“Heaven, please.”
I cringe as she struggles to grab something out of her pocket.
After a few seconds she pulls out her phone.
She steps closer to me and practically shoves the screen in my face, showing me her mom’s Instagram account.
“I’ve been home for three days and she’s already made three posts and like ten different stories about my face, my arm, my being gay again, her feeling guilty, but glad I’m home.
After we left the store, she asked me if I wanted to film a Get Ready with Me: Broken Arm edition.
Why would I want to do that? Have you seen my face! ”
I can’t help but snort, but her hysterical reaction doesn’t change my mind. “I—I don’t know. Look. I hear you. This is embarrassing. You should be able to heal your arm and your face in peace. But I have a lot going on.”
“Like what?”
I roll my eyes but give her a quick explanation of how I need to build my online portfolio.
“Mrs. Yeun wants me to work on this all year, but I gotta get this started now. So that means I have to somehow turn myself into your mom, basically, and learn how to build a following based on art that I’ve only shown to like three people.
If I don’t, it’s going to be pretty hard to get Mrs. Yeun to take me on as an apprentice. ”
“Oh,” Saylor says, a deep frown creasing her eyebrows. “Is that it?”
“Um, yeah. That’s it. I’ll be spending so much time just trying not to barf. I don’t think I’ll be able to save you from your mom.”
“Then let’s make a deal: You let me tag along with you for the summer bingo challenge so I can spend as much time away from home as possible, and I’ll help you launch a very successful social media account.
You might not have noticed, but my mom has millions of followers and I’ve been watching her for years.
I’ve learned a thing or two about managing a brand. Against my will, but still.”
“What’s the catch? There’s always a catch,” I say.
“I mean you’ll have to spend the summer with me. And—”
“And what?” I scowl.
Saylor flashes me a guilty smile and holds up her cast. “You’ll have to drive.”