Page 14 of The Summer List

I grip the fridge handle for support as I laugh so hard my knees go weak.

She doesn’t have a gun. She has an ornamental table lamp clutched in one hand and what I’m pretty sure is a miniature version of the Venus de Milo in the other.

She blinks at me with huge, round eyes while I laugh, which just makes me crack up even harder.

I only realize just how much tension has built up in my body over the course of this insane day when I feel it seeping out of me as I laugh and laugh and laugh. I’m not even laughing at her anymore. I’m not even laughing at anything funny.

I’m laughing because I’m nineteen and everything I own in the entire world is sitting in two garbage bags on the floor of my dad’s house. I’m laughing because five hours ago, I had a boyfriend, and now I don’t. I’m laughing because I thought I loved him, but it only took a few seconds of looking at him—really looking at him—to realize I never did.

I just wanted to believe I’d finally found something that mattered to me.

“Sorry,” I choke out when I can speak again. “Weird day. Also, what were you gonna do with those? Venus de Milo me to death? Strangle me with a lamp cord?”

A rogue snort explodes out of me at the thought. The girl’s eyebrows pinch together like I’ve offended her.

“They were the closest blunt objects to my bed.”

That doesn’t help me stop laughing. Of course my dad would have a mini Venus de Milo in one of his guest rooms. He and Sandy decided amateur art collecting ‘with a focus on sculpture’ was going to be their new thing a few years ago. The whole house is full of kitschy reproductions and weird, absurdly expensive originals their art advisor convinces them they should invest in.

“How come you didn’t call the cops right away?” I ask. “Wait, did you call the cops already? Do we need to, like, deal with that?”

She shakes her head. “I thought it was probably just the cats making noise. I only brought these as…precautions.”

She raises both objects a few inches higher and then glances back and forth between them like she’s only just realized how ridiculous she looks.

“I must have scared the hell out of you.” I release the fridge handle so I can lean against the edge of the island instead. “You come down here expecting to break up a cat fight, and you find me crouched in front of the fridge like that scene in Jennifer’s Body.”

Her eyes get all gigantic again as she stares at me.

“Never seen it?” I ask.

Those same creases form between her eyebrows like I’ve insulted her again. “It’s my favourite movie ever.”

“No way.” I laugh again, but this time it’s more out of surprise. “It’s my favourite movie too.”

For a moment, the air in the room seems to shift, or maybe it just gets thicker, clouded with something I only manage to catch a taste of before it slips away.

I take a few seconds to actually look at her. Even when she’s not gawking at me in horror, she has some of the biggest, roundest eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s too dark for me to be sure of their colour, but I can tell they’re some shade of blue or green. She has thin, dark blonde hair that falls just past her shoulders, but her blonde eyebrows are light enough to make her eyes look like they take up even more of her face than they already do.

She’s wearing a matching pajama set, the pale purple t-shirt and cotton shorts dotted with a pattern I have to squint at for a moment before I realize what I’m seeing.

“Are those…pickles?”

She drops her gaze to where I’m pointing at her shirt and then blushes so hard I can see a trace of pink on her cheeks even in the dim lighting.

“Oh, um, yeah.”

I prop my elbow on top of the island and rest my chin in my hand. “Interesting choice.”

“I like pickles,” she blurts.

I snort again. Her cheeks flush even darker as I let out a suggestive-sounding, “Ohhhh.”

“Not like that,” she squeaks, avoiding my eyes. “Definitely not like that. I’m a lesbian.”

I blink. That was way more information than I was expecting.

For some reason, hearing her say that makes my heart pound a little louder in my ears. I’ve known I’m bisexual for a couple years now, but there weren’t a lot of queer women to hang out with at my high school or among Nick’s circle of friends. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say ‘I’m a lesbian’ in real life.

---