I laughed, sudden and spontaneous, surprising myself. “That’s a harsh way to put it,” I said lightly. “But I guess it’s not wrong.”
“Oscar took your side in it, though?”
“Yeah. He and I have always been close. You know, twins—you end up inseparable a lot of the time, even when you hate each other. We never really had the hating each other phase, though… just the codependent one,” I laughed. “He’s a little awkward at times and doesn’t do emotional support, vulnerability, all of that, but it’s that kind of thing where you know he’s there for you even if he doesn’t say it.”
“It is good to have someone who says it, too, though.”
“Well, I guess I’ve got you,” I said, even though that felt a little premature—weirdly placing her into the role of looking after me, even though I should have been a fully capable adult myself—but she grinned, taking another piece of pizza.
“And Allison, for better or worse.”
“I’m still not convinced you two like each other.”
“Ah, love her. Little lesbian I’ve taken under my wing so I can make fun of her for not knowing how to talk to girls.”
I had a nervous quiver that, for some reason, I pushed through to say, pretending to be casual about it, “Do you just go around trying to adopt all the… non-straight women you can and guard them?”
“Oh, for sure. I’ve taken an oath to the patron saint Sappho to protect her fledglings,” she said, flexing an arm. Casual and relaxed about it. Did she understand that was me trying to awkwardly tell her I wasn’t straight too? And why was I even trying to, anyway?
Guess it wasn’t that surprising… I envied Brooklyn’s fearless authenticity, and here was something I didn’t know how to own with literally anybody else. Plus, she was clearly okay with it. No better place to practice and see if I could own it.
“Well, her fledglings appreciate it,” I laughed, feeling my cheeks prickle a little as I helped myself to another slice of pizza, playing it off like I was casual about it. “I really am grateful, you know. I owe you a favor I don’t know how to repay.”
She winked at me. “Go rock-climbing with me.”
“I—what? Right now?”
“Maybe not right now,” she laughed. “I do it regularly at the local gym, but literally all the other regulars are straight guys and not all of them shower regularly, so I’m always literally begging any woman to accompany me and make me not the only woman in the room. Bonus points if it’s another queer girl, but Allison hates it with every fiber of her being. I’ve already bullied her into it twice and I just scored a promise for her to try a third time, but I feel like she’ll hate it again.”
I laughed awkwardly. “I’m going to be terrible at it, you know. I have zero upper-body strength.”
“I’ll teach you. Girls love a girl who does rock-climbing.”
Okay—she’d gotten the memo. I didn’t know why I was so embarrassed and shy about this, but that was probably a sign it was something I needed to work on and I was moving in the right direction. “That’s the way to deal with getting cheated on, then?” I laughed, focusing on the food so she wouldn’t see me blush. “Get some thick biceps and get a bunch of girls all over me?”
“Not the worst approach,” she laughed. “So? What do you say? I won’t be mad if you say no, but I will be happy if you say yes.”
“Ah… sure. My family’s got an itinerary for our time here, but I’m sure they won’t mind me slipping in an extracurricular or two. Especially now that I’m not sure how much room there even is in the itinerary for me.”
She winked at me, a glint in her eyes. “Forget them. Allison and I will be your tour guides, and if they try pushing you away, all that means is that you get the better experience than they do.”
I laughed, a knot untangling in my chest. “Then I look forward to embarrassing myself at the gym.”
She grinned, and honestly, for everything, it was such a nice thing to just be able to light her up that way—to give her something that made her happy after she’d done so much for me. I’d turn myself into a regular gym rat to thank her for this.
After all—it was a damn good pizza.
Chapter 6
Brooklyn
Ryan slept cutely.
I found her on the pullout sofa bed, lying on her side, hair sprawled around her in a mess, with her hands curled together in front of her face, like a little kitten, breathing softly in her sleep. The morning sunlight was soft and warm through the slat blinds, and I dropped onto the coffee table, nudging her shoulder.
“Just a minute,” she murmured.
“It’s seven. You asked me to wake you up now.”