Chapter 24
R enee frowned into her suitcase. She’d stopped by her hotel room to pack for New York. Her bed, covered in clothes, looked like the site of the recent vaporization of several goth teenagers. The problem with a mostly black wardrobe was that visually, it made packing confusing.
Renee was dreading this trip. She hadn’t been back to New York since she left with her tail between her legs.
Her RSVP to the Fall Reception was still unsent.
Twice she’d filled out the form to decline, only to have Dragan’s voice in her head saying I want to see you there stop her from hitting submit.
She’d decided to decide later. She already had to bring her black jumpsuit, her only nice outfit, to wear to Lola’s gala—she could rewear it if necessary.
When her phone buzzed, Renee snatched it up, eager for distraction.
Kadijah texted, Deborah came into Prince’s and she said you’d been out here and didn’t tell me?
Renee groaned. She hadn’t talked to Kadijah in weeks.
I wasn’t in Fellows, I went up north to the lake house.
I thought you were too busy working to return my texts, but you got time for a whole vacation.
Wait
Renee
Did you go up there with her?
And this was the problem with secretly dating a closeted celebrity: you had to evade the legitimate questions of people you were only ever honest with.
If I had, that would be a good reason not to tell you.
You took LOLA GRAY to your mom’s lake house?
Renee’s heart was bursting with feelings for Lola, her head filled with thoughts of her, and she didn’t have a single person to talk to about it.
Even still, she wasn’t sure she would have been ready to tell Kadijah if she could have.
Kadijah, with all their polyamory and ethical non-monogamy, fancied themself a relationship guru, and Renee, a delinquent.
Renee didn’t want Kadijah’s teasing about Walk Away Renee’s avoidant attachment style.
Instead of responding, Renee counted out twice the pairs of underwear she’d realistically need for a five-day trip. The screen lit up several times before Renee looked again.
Wait but why
For the movie? I thought she had covid
Renee bit down on a cuticle, wishing sharply, all of a sudden, that Kadijah would just leave her alone.
It wasn’t for the film. Just a last-minute weekend trip thing.
Then why? bc of the breakup with Nash?
Not because … you know?
Not because I know what?
The blinking dots showed Kadijah typing. Renee could practically hear the click of their acrylics on the phone screen.
If you’re gonna be in the entertainment industry you need to get on social media. I am literally begging you to download tiktok.
Micro-video offends my artistic sensibilities
See if this offends your sensibilities
The link Kadijah sent took a second to load on the website, since Renee didn’t have TikTok downloaded, but the video’s tags hinted at the content: #LolaGBTQ #LavaTruther #lesbiansoftiktok #wlw.
The creator’s username—QueerforJeanJacket—referenced the track from Lola’s first album.
Renee used to think “Jean Jacket,” which was about secretly pining after a jean-jacket-clad crush, had a classic teenage Americana feel.
Renee’s brain still hadn’t fully integrated the reality that she herself had bought the jean jacket in question at Target, and it was hanging in her childhood closet.
The video played. The face of QueerforJeanJacket hovered in front of a paparazzi shot of Lola and Renee, like a green screen.
Renee was startled to see it: she hadn’t realized she and Lola had been photographed leaving that restaurant, where they’d grabbed dinner after a long day at Ackerlund’s studio.
“If you, like me, believe with every molecule of your being that this woman”—QueerforJeanJacket pointed to Lola in the image behind her—“is queer, then you have probably noticed that she’s been seen a lot with this woman.” She pointed to Renee. “Who is she? Let’s talk about it.”
A lump grew in Renee’s throat as QueerforJeanJacket cycled through photos of Lola that included Renee, going back all the way to Claudia’s wedding.
QueerforJeanJacket theorized that Renee was not only Lola’s documentarian and childhood friend—as demonstrated with pictures from their literal high school yearbook—but also Lola’s lesbian rebound from Ava.
(A separate video was coming on the theory that Nash was a beard.)
The penetrating unease caught her off guard.
The photos would have felt violating in any case—Renee wasn’t used to seeing high-resolution photos of herself from such a variety of angles—but these specific photos seemed to chart the course of how she’d fallen for Lola, even before she realized it was happening.
That was still so private; Renee hadn’t told a soul.
Here, the evidence was laid out in a three-minute video, like a cracked case.
“I, for one, would love Lola to come out,” QueerforJeanJacket concluded. “Renee’s so hot, I’m about to start a stan account—let me know in the comments if you’re into that. But honestly, I hope Renee is the one for Lola. I just think it would be so cool to see Lola marry a woman.”
Whoa, how did they jump from rebound to marriage ?
Renee sat down on the floor, in the middle of the room.
Her heart was suddenly racing. No one in their right mind would mention her name in the same sentence as marriage.
She hadn’t even had a proper long-term—or short-term—relationship.
She’d burnt so many romantic bridges, she might as well be traveling with matches and kerosene.
She called me hot , she wrote to Kadijah.
Don’t read the comments.
What’s in the comments? They’re saying I’m not hot?
Never read the comments! And the point is, is something going on with you two?
Yeah, I’m filming her documentary.
Be for fucking real.
Renee fell back so that her spine was flush to the carpet. Even if she wanted to tell the truth, she’d signed an NDA. Using that as an answer was an answer on its own.
Maybe she didn’t need to say anything at all. Kadijah could believe what they wanted for now, and it was only a matter of time before they took the relationship public, wasn’t it?
Renee heaved herself off the floor and finished packing.
She left Kadijah on read.
D ESPITE R ENEE ’ S FEARS , traveling to New York with Lola was nothing like returning to the city that had teased her with a good time, then chewed her up and spit her out.
They stayed in Lola’s apartment near Gramercy Park, a rich-person neighborhood unfamiliar to Renee.
Lola’s packed schedule allowed for none of the things Renee would have wanted to show her in the city: no tour of Flushing’s dumpling houses, excursion to Green-Wood Cemetery, or night out at a sapphic party at the Woods on Wednesdays.
Not that they could have done the last one anyway.
Lola had warned Renee that with news of her breakup with Nash, the paparazzi and fan attention would be intense.
Renee dismissed her concerns: New York wasn’t like celeb-crazed L.A.
The first time they rode the elevator down from Lola’s penthouse to slip into a waiting car—Lola mentioned wanting to upgrade to a place with a garage—Lola wore a large pair of sunglasses and clutched her coat closed like a security blanket.
She looked so uncomfortable that Renee wondered if maybe Lola really didn’t like the city.
Then the elevator doors opened and Renee heard the screams.
The police had erected a barricade on the sidewalk to keep the fans and photographers back.
Flashes popped in Renee’s vision as the paps demanded that Lola pose for them or comment on the breakup.
Above their cries, Renee could hear the higher-pitched squeals of “Lola! I love you so much!” or “I drove from Vermont to see you!” Renee wished she had her own suit of armor to match Lola’s.
Then someone yelled, “Renee! Ohmigod, that’s Renee!”
Renee’s head snapped up reflexively.
“Renee, put us in the movie!” the girls cried over the whirr of clicking shutters. Renee’s vision was blotted with the bluish afterburn of flashes.
“Renee, are you and Lola dating?” someone yelled.
Then Cassidy was yanking Renee into the car.
N IGHT ONE WAS a dinner with some of Lola’s famous girlfriends. It was a stunt to show Lola thriving post-breakup, but Lola said she was genuinely looking forward to it. Lola had an hour to rest at her apartment before the glam squad arrived. She spent it in bed with Renee.
Renee’s leg was nestled between Lola’s thighs and her arm was splayed across Lola’s chest. Lola ran a lazy palm down the curve of Renee’s waist and settled it on the globe of her ass.
“Do you want to come to dinner?” Lola asked.
Renee nuzzled against her neck. “I can’t shoot four people with one camera. And the sound would be terrible.”
Lola inched back to peer at Renee, whose face was smushed half against the pillow and half against Lola’s shoulder. “Not to film. I want you to meet some of my friends.”
Suddenly, Renee felt more alert. She’d never actually agreed to meet anyone’s friends before—part of keeping it casual—although some girls had sprung it on her anyway. It never went well.
Renee did a quick review in her head to confirm that she hadn’t done to Lola any of the messed-up shit she normally did, like deliberately ignoring her (impossible, they worked together) or flirting with someone else in front of her (also impossible, Renee could barely look away from her).
Lola’s friends had no reason to dislike her—unless, of course, she messed up at dinner and gave them one.
She wriggled her body against Lola’s. “What have you told them about me?”
She’d meant it playfully, but Lola winced.
Oh.
“I mean, are you out to any of them?” she asked instead.
“I am to Tatiana. I should warn you; she might give you a hard time. She thinks I have terrible taste in partners.”
“You do. With one exception,” Renee said.