16 Quinn
Quinn
Three weeks before the fall
Sunshine pours in through the tiny bathroom window as I wash my hands. The four of us stand in a row before the mirror, pink-painted stalls like gates at our back.
“Sleepover at my house tonight?” Sophie says. She examines her reflection and adjusts her shirt, tugging it down as far as it will go. Elena leans in and applies a sticky gloss. The room begins to smell of cotton candy.
“I can’t,” I say, and I catch Joey’s eye in the mirror.
She’s glaring at me with her arms firmly crossed at her chest. She steals a look at Sophie and then Elena, and in a second, they’re all standing around me.
I take a step toward the sink. I’m not sure what’s going on, but it seems like they’ve planned this.
They followed me in here with the intention of cornering me.
“It’s been, like, weeks since you’ve hung out with us.” Elena puts her lip gloss away and zips up her bag without taking her eyes off me. She flicks an eyebrow up in question.
“Sorry,” I say. I don’t want to tell them why, so I just say, “Maybe next weekend?”
Joey examines her feet. “If it’s River, just tell us. We won’t care.”
“It’s not River,” I say. “It’s…my dad. He needs me. I’m working up to an intervention.”
“Oh, wow,” says Sophie, softening. “Do you need us there for support?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
Sophie rubs my arm. “I think you’re absolutely doing the right thing. He needs professional help. But make sure you have your mom and maybe a friend or two of his there. And call us. You shouldn’t do it on your own.”
“So we’ll hang out next weekend then,” says Joey. “You won’t back out at the last second?” Her words cut, as I assume they’re meant to. I can hear the shouts and laughter from students lining up at their lockers.
“You know,” I say. “You don’t need me to be friends with each other.”
Elena smacks her lips together, unbothered. “Yeah, but Quinn, you’re like the glue. On our own, we’re terrible. Joey is a robot. Sophie is emo, and I’m a bitch. You’re the balanced, down-to-earth friend.”
“Hey.” Sophie looks genuinely hurt. “I’m not emo, am I?”
Elena tosses her a look that says, “Do you really not know this about yourself?”
I’m flustered. I know Elena’s words are intended to be funny, but for some reason, they make me feel boxed in, like I only have one role. “I’m not your mom,” I say. “So maybe you should just figure it out.” I turn to leave.
“Wait, don’t go.” Joey suddenly has a firm grip on my arm and a desperate look in her eye. Her touch surprises me. “Just tell me we’d still be friends if it weren’t for the magic,” she says.
I feel their eyes on me. It feels like tiny burns.
“Of course we would,” says Sophie in an almost whisper. I’m glad she answers so I don’t have to. “It will be summer soon. We’ll have plenty of time to be together.”
At that moment, the bell rings, echoing throughout the mauve-tiled room, and I pull my backpack over my shoulder. They watch me without making any moves themselves, and I push down the feeling of guilt that threatens to make me turn and confess everything.
Instead, I say, “Just because I can’t go to a sleepover doesn’t mean we’re not still friends.” Then, without turning back, I shove open the door with my foot and disappear down the hall.
A few minutes later, I’m hurrying away from the school, making sure none of them are watching me as I turn the corner away from my house.
He finds me before I see him. I hear my name from somewhere behind a tree. The way he says it, low and intimate, chases away the guilt I felt lying to my friends.
I stride over to him and look up into those icy eyes.
I see hunger there. The same hunger I feel.
A sharp wind throws my hair into my face, and he brushes it away.
Then he tugs at the loopholes in my jeans until my hips are flush against him.
He leans in, and I disappear completely into the kiss, into the softness of his lips, and my guilt dissolves without a trace.
Why have I chosen to spend tonight with him instead of my friends? It’s simple. He understands me. They don’t.