Chapter 11
Ninth Grade
(age fourteen)
A month or two passed in a careful equilibrium.
Sometimes Kelli, Am, and Elaine formed a group, clumped up on the school grounds or in a park, telling stories and commiserating about their secret queer lives.
Sometimes Am and Kelli went off alone to do girlfriend things.
Elaine was canny enough not to ask for too much; not to ever ask where Am and Kelli went without her, and not to ever ask if she could tag along.
And maybe it was something about how good Elaine had been, how carefully she’d followed the rules, that made Am want to open her mouth and say one of the riskiest things ever.
“So . . . about Elaine,” said Am to Kelli, while they lay close together just the two of them, in her disaster area of a bedroom. “We’re getting along better now, right?”
“Sure,” said Kelli.
“Can I ask you something?” Am scrunched up against her on top of the blankets, pulling her extra close. “Please don’t be mad.”
“Why would I be mad? Of course you can ask.”
“You’re my girlfriend and I love you,” said Am. “That’s not going to change. And if your answer to this is no then it’s no. I won’t do anything. But—”
Kelli twisted over to look at her in clear alarm. Kelli probably already knew that anything after a but, in a speech like that, was going to be really weird.
“But,” said Am, quickly, before she could lose her nerve, “what if we both dated Elaine, too? Do you think . . . would that be okay?”
Kelli spun sideways out of Am’s arms. “Of course that wouldn’t be okay!” she spluttered. “Why would you even ask that?”
“I don’t know, I just—I thought of it, and—”
“Do you like Elaine more than me?” Kelli demanded. “Is that what this is? Do you wish you were kissing her, instead?”
“No! Not like that. I don’t know how to explain.
” Am screwed her eyes shut in frustration, trying to find the right words.
It had sounded so simple in her head. “I don’t like her more, I like her differently.
When I’m with you I’m thinking about you and it’s great.
But when we’re all three together, that’s when the thought gets in my head.
Like maybe it would be even better if we were all three kissing.
People did that in the old days, right? Some of the movie reviews talked about it.
It was called polyamory. It wasn’t like cheating—three or four people would just all get together and be happy. ”
“I read those too,” said Kelli, looking not mollified even a little. “I know what polyamory is.”
“So! Like that. That’s all I mean. Wouldn’t it be cool, and queer, and, like, rebellious? I won’t do anything if you don’t want to, but I just thought of it, that’s all. I thought I’d ask.”
Kelli stared at her mutinously for a few seconds.
It was weird, waiting those few seconds out.
Am already knew that the answer was going to be no.
But it looked—for those few seconds—like Kelli actually had to think about it before she was sure.
Like she was really picturing in her head what it would be like, the three of them.
“Am,” Kelli said at last, covering her face with her hands, “I barely even know how to do this with two of us. I can’t with three.”
“Okay,” Am said. “Just like I said, if it’s no then it’s no.”
“Okay,” Kelli said. But she kept her face covered.
Am bit her own lip in frustration. She’d meant everything she said. Am loved Kelli, and that was more important than the strange, nebulous thing that she also felt for Elaine. She loved the relationship that they already had, and she wasn’t stupid enough to throw it away.
Or she’d thought she wasn’t stupid enough.
Am thought she’d learned all about consent.
She thought she’d paid so much attention to Kelli’s lectures about how she had to ask first, before doing anything, every single time.
It had not occurred to her that maybe some things were too dangerous even to ask for.