can’t believe I just told you that. I’ve never even said it out loud.”
I laugh despite myself, and she curls her lip in irritation. I try my best to backpedal. “No, God, it’s not like that. It’s just, I say that all the time to Sam.”
“To Sam?”
“Yeah, well…we’ve been traveling together. You probably won’t be surprised to learn, despite what I told you girls in Auckland, I don’t exactly have an entourage of friends back home. Sam calls me out on that stuff, and I’m always confessing things I’ve never talked about.”
She looks at me, smirking now. “Let me guess, the boob-in-the-soup incident wasn’t your first foray into freakdom?”
I snort. “Not by a long shot.” She rocks from side to side, her knee swinging in arcs as she presses her shoulders into the tiles. With a deep breath, I try to get her talking. “What happened with Reese that sent you in here crying and, uh,”—I wave my finger at her head—“the hair thing? Which, if I must say, looks really cute short.”
She nods. “Thanks. I had a great hairdresser.” We smile at each other, then her lips tighten. “Let’s see, Reese. I don’t even know where to start with that bitch, so I’ll give you the condensed version. We went to high school together. I’ve had a thing for her for years, God knows why, while still maintaining my ‘boy-hungry’ image. We made out one night a year ago—a fun experiment for her, an intense moment for me. When I tried to recreate that scene last night in Auckland, things didn’t go as planned. Names were yelled. Really fucking shitty names I won’t repeat.
“I lost my shit and practically tore out her stupid-ass braid. I caught the first bus south and landed here, in a bathroom in Taupo, in fucking New Zealand, hacking at my hair because it’s exhausting trying to be something I’m not. So that’s the short version, and for some messed-up reason, I’m sharing it with you. The boob-in-the-soup girl.” When I squint at her, she swats the air by my face. “God, whatever. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I took that stupid video of you. It was kind of a dick move.”
I roll my eyes. “Kind of.” I should be angrier with her than I am, but everything about her makes more sense now. Especially her sour expression that deepened every time Reese tried to turn me into her own personal Barbie. I deal with my insecurities by playing my own version of Where’s Waldo?, expertly blending in with the scenery. Leigh, on the other hand, lashes out. It’s not fun to be on the receiving end of said lashing, but I get it. I try to choose my next words carefully. “Were you serious, though? Is this the first time you’ve ever told anyone that you’re gay?”
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Then finally, “Let’s just say my family isn’t what you’d call supportive, and my high school was filled with carbon copies of Reese and followers like Brianne. I guess it’s a hell of a lot easier to say it out loud to a virtual stranger who I never have to see again, in a place I never have to visit again. So, yeah, you’re my first.” She snorts at the statement.
“I can relate. I mean, not that I’m gay. Just, it’s easier to be myself with a slate I can wipe clean at any given moment. Sam’s been kind of making me own my insecurities. He tells me to chase my crazy.” Every time he says it, his eyes sparkle and his lips twitch. Those are the times I want to cover him in that T-shirt.
“What’s with all this Sam talk? Does he have something to do with your magical transformation from boob-in-the-soup girl to halfway normal?”
I want to give her my squinty face at the mention of that nickname, but when I glance at her, she’s smirking, not sneering. Like Sam, I think she’s laughing with me. “Yeah, I’d say he’s responsible for the Cinderella version of me.”
“What’s the deal? You two getting all hot and heavy in the backseat of his car?”
My cheeks flame, along with my ears, chest, and neck. “Of course not. We’re just friends.” Friends who flirt a lot. Friends who will be sleeping in the same tent. For one night. Together. A friend who tells me crazy is better than normal.
“I don’t get it. I sensed something between you two that first night in Auckland. And let’s be honest