chapter twenty-three The Most Awkward Thing I’ve Ever Heard
chapter twenty-three
The Most Awkward Thing I’ve Ever Heard
“You didn’t tell Olsen that I was the reason you left him that night?” Lex says, more of a statement than a question, in a
hushed tone through the phone receiver.
I sink lower into my seat on the SkyTrain, the anxious nausea that’s been swirling in my belly ever since Team Rainbow’s meeting
coming back in full force. “No?”
“And why is he talking about you as if you’re still dating? You said you ended things.”
“I did! When I left, I said I couldn’t be with him anymore.” Though were those my exact words? My memory is fuzzy.
“Well, he just got off a two-day shift and messaged me asking if I’d heard from you. He said he’s sent you a dozen texts,
left voicemails. He’s really worried. You seriously haven’t messaged him back?”
Guilt jabs at my stomach. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a little distracted.”
Lex sighs. “Please clear things up with him. It’s not my place.”
“I will. I promise.” Though just the thought of that conversation makes me want to curl up in the fetal position.
“What even happened?” Lex asks. “He said everything was going great one second, and the next you took off running.”
“You mean the night I professed my undying love to you and we made sweet, sweet love in the morning?” I comment, hoping to
distract her.
“Before that,” she says, a hint of a smile in her voice.
I press my face into my hands. “Lex, you don’t want to know.”
“Clear communication, remember? Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out, okay?”
“You don’t understand.”
“After everything we’ve been through, nothing can surprise me.”
I thunk my head against the seat and groan. If only that were true.
“Come on,” Lex coaxes. “It’s probably not even that bad.”
Unable to avoid it any longer, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and get it all out as fast as I can. “We came home from
a date and then we were fooling around on his couch and when he made me come I shouted your name. There, happy?”
“What!” Lex shrieks.
Dodging an odd look from an eavesdropping elderly passenger across the aisle, I press myself against the window and lower
my voice. “Told you it was bad!”
“Bad? That’s . . . that’s probably the most awkward thing I’ve ever heard. And you’ve told me some doozies. Hell, I’ve seen some doozies.”
The niggling discomfort I’ve had these past few days, the warnings that the curse is still looming, ready to rear up and ruin
my life, gnaws at the back of my mind.
Lex blows a raspberry through her lips. “I’m sorry that happened. Wow. He didn’t mention that when I spoke to him. He was just very concerned about you.”
“Well, to be fair, I’ve been a bit busy,” I say suggestively, trying to bring a playful tone back into my voice despite the
sick feeling in my stomach.
“True,” Lex says, her tone staying serious. “But, Aubrey, he’s my brother. He’s my son’s uncle. And, right now, he’s also
my roommate. He’s an important part of my life, and if we continue to see each other, he’s going to be a big part of your
life, too.”
I honestly hadn’t thought about that. The idea of sitting across a dinner table from Olsen, after everything that’s happened,
with me dating his sister?
“You’re right,” I sigh. “It’s just that talking to him will be so awkward.”
“That’s sort of your thing,” she muses. “You should be used to it by now.”
That’s exactly what I’m worried about.
Lex continues. “It was your relationship, so it’s not my place to say anything. You need to tell him you’re dating me—and
sooner rather than later. He’ll be at Gabe’s play on Friday, and I don’t want anything to ruin it. Gabe’s worked so hard.”
“I know he has.”
“You are still coming, right?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t let Gabe down.” And I mean it. The last thing I want to do is ruin the faith Gabe has placed in me.
“Okay. I should probably let you go back to work,” Lex says after a long, uncomfortable silence. “I know I’ve already distracted
you enough while on the job.”
“Actually, I’m on my way home.”
“Wait, why? What happened? Did you get in trouble?”
“No, no one knows what we did. Something awful has happened, though.” I take a deep breath, and then relay the whole heartbreaking story, filling her in on how the terrible event has expedited our projects, and how we have one shot to get our plan to the desk of the premier.
By the time I’m done I’ve reached my stop and begin the short walk home to pick up Winston.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Lex says, her voice thick. “What happened to that girl, it could have easily been us.”
I stumble, tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, and barely catch myself from falling. “Us?”
“We were both outcasts,” she explains. “We were both bullied. Hell, your own best friend turned against you, and then the
entire school did.”
I have no idea what to say. Sure, I was an outcast. Sure, I had a hard time in school. But I wasn’t the victim—I was the perpetrator.
Lex doesn’t know the worst of my past, of how the curse truly came to be. I’ve left out key pieces of information—pieces that
could change everything.
“I know this must be hard to deal with and it’s probably bringing up a lot of gunk from the past,” Lex says, not understanding
the depths of how true that is. “But what you’re doing is so important. If you play your cards right and get the funding you
need, you can make the world a better place—for kids like the girl in the hospital, for kids like Gabe . . . for kids like
you and me.”
“I gotta go,” I say past a boulder lodged in my throat. I take out my keys and jingle them even though I’m still a block and
a half away from my house.
“Yeah, I probably should get back to work, too. This project is boring me to tears, but hey, at least it pays the bills. Maybe
someday I’ll have a job like yours, where I’m actually making a difference.”
“You will. Okay. I love you. Bye.” Before she can say anything else, I hang up the phone. I can’t take any more of her praise.
I wish I was half the person she thinks I am.
I’m sitting in the big meeting the following morning and I have fuck-all for ideas. I didn’t sleep at all last night between pacing my kitchen, flopping face down on my couch, and screaming into my pillow.
After my phone call with Lex, a long walk with Winston, and a girl dinner of cheese and crackers, I finally managed to text
Olsen back. We agreed to meet for dinner today after work, since I figured the conversation we need to have should be done
in person. I will, after all, have a brotherly relationship with him after all this.
Fuck, my life is weird.
Unfortunately, my brain was too distracted trying to formulate some sort of speech to explain how I’m dating his sister, not him, and I couldn’t switch it over to work. Which is why I’m here, in this meeting, with a blank notebook and an even blanker
brain. I already had an inkling that I was the most useless member of Team Rainbow, but now I’m sure. After this they’ll cut
the dead weight and I’ll be out of a job. I can’t deal with that right now, not in this economy. My feet aren’t nearly nice
enough for FeetFinder.
After a few moments the team filters in, the energy uncertain excitement for our plans to be rolling forward faster than anticipated,
mixed with the weight of the incident that occurred and how traumatic it’s been for so many queer kids out there. As one might
expect, this incident has caused division among Canadians—some siding with the injured teen, while others are calling the
kids who hurt her heroes for defending “biological women,” as if such a thing exists.
Ebele strides in, looking sharp in a wine-coloured pantsuit and flowy white blouse. She surveys the room and we all exchange
curt pleasantries before her eyes lock on me.
“Aubrey,” she says, her voice filling the room. “Do you mind going first? I’m curious what your ideas are since you weren’t present for the rest of the meeting.”
My heart stutters and falls out my butt. I try to remind myself how to breathe as my mind completely blanks. “I think it would,
uh, be beneficial to know what the rest of the team has come up with before sharing, if that’s o—”
“No idea is a bad idea. Just tell us what you’re thinking, get the conversation going.” Ebele offers a warm smile before taking
her seat, leaving the floor open for me.
Without consciously being aware that I’m doing it, I manage to find my way to my feet and navigate to the front of the room.
Every single noise is amplified—the squeak of Linda’s chair as she gently rocks back and forth, the tap of Samantha’s nails
on the desk, the clicking of Jasleen’s pen.
I clear my throat, which I think is closing on me. “So, the, uh . . .” Sweat prickles at my brow. I blink around the room.
The team’s expectant gazes are zeroing in, as if they can read my mind and see how empty it is. I imagine Lex sitting there,
watching me with her intense baby blues, cheering me on silently for my amazing idea that’s going to change the world. An
idea I don’t have.
Then, one pops into my head. An amazing idea. The best idea I’ve ever had . . . except it’s not mine. I’d read the idea yesterday,
on someone else’s desk.
Before I can stop myself, my mouth is moving and words are tumbling out and sentences are being formed. “We should focus on
the link between colonization, white supremacy, and how they are intertwined with gender expectations.” I look up to see Jasleen’s
eyes bulge, just as shocked by what I said as I am.
Ebele hums low in her throat. “Interesting. Can you explain?”
Oh, fuck. I clear my throat as I try to remember various snippets of a documentary I watched years ago, a few blog posts I’d read,
and the rest of Jasleen’s notes. “Western colonizers imposed their rigid ideas of gender and sexual binary constructs on Indigenous
peoples when they—we—came over here. The enforcement of these ideologies is linked with colonization. The two cannot be separated.
There’s been a shift toward decolonization, toward freeing our minds of those constructs, but most people don’t know about
this specific link.”
I can feel Jasleen’s glare, which I avoid returning, because I may just pass out if I see the way she’s looking at me. Instead,
I keep my eyes on Ebele, gauging her reaction.
“Very interesting,” Ebele states. “And how would we use this information to further our goals of implementing mindfulness
in British Columbian schools?”
Holy ballsacks, she’s really putting me on the spot. I say what comes to mind first: “Thanks to steps forward in reconciliation, most schools already have branches where they
focus on First Nations studies and education. We could work within these existing programs, bring more funding into them,
and have mindfulness implemented as part of cultural education and understanding. Gender binary ideas, anti-trans rhetoric,
and phobias of sexual expression are all linked to colonization, and so it makes logical sense to implement our programs while
working under the existing umbrella alongside our First Nations allies.”
A ghost of a smile traces Ebele’s lips. “This is . . . genius.”
All the air whooshes out of my lungs. I’m not sure how I’m still standing.
“Great work, Aubrey. You may sit.”
With shaky legs I find my way to my seat and lower myself into it with a long exhale.
“Jasleen, do you have any thoughts?” Ebele asks.
My eyes dart from Ebele to Jasleen, who fits me with a glare so intense I’m surprised I don’t spontaneously combust.
“Actually, I do.” Jasleen’s chin lifts slightly.
My heart pounds. My hands shake. She’s going to call me out. She’s going to show Ebele her notes and prove that I’m a dirty
rotten thief.
“Aubrey’s idea is solid,” she says instead. “We should go with that.”
I have to physically stop my mouth from falling open. Jasleen’s cheeks turn a darker shade of brown as she keeps her gaze
fixed on our boss.
The rest of the meeting goes by in a blur, and by the time I’m back in my office I feel like I’m hovering somewhere above
my body rather than an active participant in life.
I worried Jasleen would come into my office to confront me about stealing her idea. But she didn’t, which only makes me feel
worse. By the time work is over, all I want to do is go home, call Lex, and see if she can come over with a bottle of wine
and some Thai food, turn my bad day around and disappear into the comfort of her embrace. Unfortunately, I already promised
to meet with Olsen. I wish I could cancel our plans, but I promised Lex I’d clear the air with him. I can’t avoid it any longer,
not with Gabe’s play a few days away.
As I navigate to where I agreed to meet Olsen, I still have no idea what I’m going to say to him. And, unlike work, I can’t
steal someone else’s notes for it.