Chapter 9 #2
Emma and Candor froze. Aubrey’s back went rigid, her mouth falling open like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what.
My heart pounded away, but I dug my sneakers into the soil and held my head high. I am gay … I am here … “Actually, I’ve always liked girls,” I said evenly. “It’s just that other people know now.”
“Right, right.” The leering grin spread across his face again. “See any hot ones tonight? What’s your type?”
My mouth was going dry. I took a long sip of my Coke before answering him. “I don’t really care to have this conversation with you, Asa.”
“Oh, come on, I’m an ally,” he said, puffing out his chest. “Isn’t that what y’all call it?”
I turned away from him and looked squarely at Emma and Candor. “Where’s the bathroom?”
It was Aubrey who answered. “I’ll show you.”
“What? No,” I said, shaking her off.
“I could use a break,” she insisted, and was it my imagination, or was she sending me a pointed look?
I rolled my eyes up into my head. “Fine.”
We left the others to their own devices, with Aubrey bossily insisting that Emma and Candor drink some water. Then she led me up to the Waldrons’ house, marching five paces in front of me like a deranged tour guide.
“It’s right through here,” she called over her shoulder, “and the bathroom is—”
“I’m sure I’ll find it, thanks. Most of them resemble each other.”
She scowled and took off ahead of me. I bristled again, annoyed that she was trying to beat me to the bathroom, but the moonshine sat pleasantly in my stomach and it didn’t seem to matter all that much who got to use the bathroom first. The important thing was that I was away from Asa.
When I reached the house, though, the hallway bathroom was empty. Whatever, I thought, she’s probably decided she can’t settle for less than an en-suite bath. I shut myself inside and did my business, grateful to have a moment alone.
When I came out, I heard voices. I turned the corner to find Aubrey in the kitchen—talking to none other than Asa. What the fuck. Had he followed us up here? Could I sneak away without them seeing me?
“… I mean, if you wanted to,” Asa was saying, leaning into Aubrey’s space. “Maybe just dinner.”
Aubrey stood against the sink, smiling indulgently with one hand in her dress pocket. “Thank you,” she said with all the practice of a society debutante, “but I’m actually seeing someone right now.”
Asa went silent. “Oh,” he said, sounding genuinely crestfallen. He quickly recovered and gave her a winning grin. “Well, your boyfriend is a lucky guy.”
She gave him a prim, tight-lipped smile, the kind she probably used when people asked probing questions about her dad. “Thanks.”
Asa nodded, then caught me watching them. He cleared his throat and pushed past me and out of the house. Aubrey ignored me, but it didn’t escape my notice that her posture had gone rigid again. Bizarrely, she turned to the sink and started rinsing glasses.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She shot me a look like I was the weird one. “What? It’s filthy in here. You can tell it’s a house full of boys.”
“I thought you had to pee.”
“I never said that.”
“So you just came up here to wash dishes?”
“Do you dissect every little thing people do?” she snapped. “I just needed a five-minute break, and even that was interrupted.”
“We have very different definitions of what constitutes a ‘break.’”
“Oh, I’m sure we have different definitions of many things,” she said dryly. “Like manners, and showing up for your friends when you say you’re going to, and—”
Anger flared in my chest. “Don’t you dare comment on my friendship with Emma and Candor. That was a weird fucking night for me, and the two of them didn’t care that I had to—”
“Are you serious?” She laughed a loud, bitter laugh, the most unladylike I had seen her.
“Of course they cared. They hadn’t seen you for a year.
They were borderline excited when your uncle died because it meant you’d be coming home for the funeral.
They talked all week about Louisa-this, Louisa-that, and how we’d all hang out, and how I’d finally get to see how awesome you are.
And then you ghosted them without an explanation. ”
My stomach hollowed out just like it had done during Hannah’s lecture earlier.
I ignored it and focused on the fury I felt toward her.
“Don’t start yelling at me just because you can’t shake some annoying asshole guy,” I shot back.
“Here’s an idea: Maybe instead of inventing a boyfriend, you should just tell him you’re not fucking interested. ”
“How would you know I’m inventing a boyfriend?” she asked, swelling with indignation. “You keep acting like you know me, like you’re allowed to hate me based on the few isolated encounters we’ve had, but you don’t know me, Louisa. I think you’re too fucking self-involved to truly know anyone.”
She stormed past me, knocking into my shoulder as she went, and I reeled as much from her swearing as I did from the shock of tears in her eyes.
Aubrey drove us home in her brand-new Audi, which Emma insisted on calling “the Rowdy” despite everyone’s pleas that she stop.
Aubrey put the top down as if to remind us we were in a fancy convertible, and I sat in the backseat and watched her graduation tassel fly from the rearview mirror while I tried to stop seething from our confrontation in the kitchen.
“I don’t want to drop y’all straight home,” Aubrey said as we came upon a lone stoplight. “Emma is trashed.”
“Your mom’s trashed,” Emma said, and collapsed into a snort of laughter.
She and Candor seemed oblivious to the simmering tension between Aubrey and me; they were too intoxicated from both moonshine and boys.
Aubrey and I had returned to the bonfire to find them chatting with a couple of guys from County High, who had seemed sincerely devastated when we’d announced we were leaving.
“I’m thinking we hit the Popeyes drive-through,” Aubrey went on, and Candor gasped with delight. “Sober everyone up with some chicken and carbs.”
Twenty minutes later, we sat in a corner of the brightly lit Popeyes parking lot, none of us speaking because our mouths were full of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.
The whole car stank of fried batter even with the top down.
I tried to take a sip of my Coke without leaving a trail of grease on the cup, but it was impossible.
The upside was that indulging my drunk munchies helped to soften the anger I was feeling.
I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes against the nighttime breeze.
“Damn, I was ravenous,” Emma said through a mouthful of food.
She had somewhat sobered up over the last half an hour, though I refused to give Aubrey credit for that.
“I feel like someone in the Middle Ages rolling up to King Arthur’s table for the big feast. Look at this chicken leg.
Just look. This is straight out of a medieval cartoon. This is like, medieval porn.”
“You’re flicking chicken skin on me, Em,” Candor said, licking her lips. “Shut up and give this porn your full attention.”
“Delicious porn,” Aubrey mused, attacking her mashed potatoes with a plastic fork. “I don’t know how they do it, but somehow they always get the pepper just right.”
“Are you allowed to say ‘porn’?” I asked, unable to resist poking the bear.
“Did you want to walk home, Scrooge?” she said testily.
“Whatever, Cotillion.”
We slipped into silence again, our bellies full and weighed down. Emma slurped from her sweet tea. The radio twanged half-heartedly.
“So, Aub,” Emma said eventually, “did anything happen with Asa?”
Candor waggled her eyebrows. “We saw him follow you up to the house.”
Aubrey gave a tinkling little laugh, the kind my grandmother used when she didn’t want to answer a question. “No, nothing happened.”
“Whaaat? He didn’t even ask you out?” Candor wailed.
“Nope,” Aubrey said definitively.
I frowned. Why was she lying? I had distinctly heard Asa ask her to dinner. If she truly was seeing someone, why wouldn’t she tell Emma and Candor?
“What a bummer,” Emma said. “He is beautiful. I mean, that jawline could cut glass.”
“It could cut a whole fucking window,” Candor enthused.
I swallowed against the discomfort in my throat.
I knew they didn’t mean to be hurtful, but it stung that Emma and Candor were happy to gush over someone who had goaded me about my sexuality.
Without meaning to, I glanced at the rearview mirror.
Aubrey was watching me with a careful look in her eyes.
“Let’s get going,” she said, clearing her throat. I tried to catch her expression in the mirror again, but she stared determinedly through the windshield.
Ten minutes later, we rolled softly into Emma’s driveway and parked in the same spot I’d taken the other night.
I half expected Aubrey to make some snarky comment about it, but she was preoccupied with getting Emma and Candor safely out of the car.
Together, we walked them to the door and ushered them inside.
There was an awkward pause before Aubrey turned to me. “So are you calling an Uber, or…?”
“Yeah,” I said, already pulling out my phone.
Aubrey hesitated. She seemed to be deliberating about something. “I can take you.”
I looked up in surprise. “That’s okay, you don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to, but it’s stupid to waste money on an Uber when I already have a car.”
I clenched my teeth and stared her down.
She gave me a challenging look back. I couldn’t tell if she was just trying to win the argument, or if her insistent Southern manners were rearing up again.
But I really didn’t feel like waiting on an Uber, especially because I doubted there were many drivers still on the road this late.
And I was definitely not going to call my dad.
Reluctantly, I followed her back to the Audi. But when I reached the passenger-side door, I paused.
“What?” Aubrey asked impatiently.