Page 82 of Finally Loved

“Oh, yeah, when your parents picked the weekend, the Longs checked the area and found a nice place to stay,” Handel said. “And, you know, with us living so close, it just made sense to come together, but then there were boyfriends for days and not enough initial cars, and—”

Handel kept speaking but all of Alba’s attention was stolen by the way Neve had frozen in her arms. She looked up and immediately didn’t like the ashen color of Neve’s face.

She twisted Neve to face her. “Hey, you okay?”

Neve stared at her with wide eyes. At first, there was no sign that she’d understood the question, but, eventually, she shook her head.

Alba nodded seriously. “Hey, Handel, give us a minute. We’ll be right back.”

She grabbed Neve’s hand and quickly led her out onto the beach and further down the strip of houses, away from the view of anyone at her parents’ place.

Neve took a shaky breath.

“What’s going on?” Alba asked, holding her close.

“My ex is here,” she said, her voice tiny.

“What?”

“My ex. The one from the mall. Is here. At your party.”

“That cannot be possible.” Alba’s mind was spinning, attempting to make sense of what that would mean.

“Are you… But you don’t lookanythingalike.” Neve stared into the middle distance. “Genetics can be like that though.”

Alba cast her mind back. She thought through every conversation they’d ever had about Neve’s shitty ex. Surely Neve had mentioned her name at some point?

But she couldn’t place it.

“Neve?” she asked gently. “What’s your ex’s name?”

Neve’s nostrils flared. “Roxanne.”

“I don’t have a—but the Longs do.”

Neve blinked and looked up at her. “What?”

“Handel just said the Longs are here. They’re close friends of my family. And there’s a granddaughter named Roxanne, about our age.” Alba shook her head. “I had no idea it was her. I swear.”

“You know her.”

Alba winced. “Yeah. We’ve met a bunch of times. You know, things like this. She and Handel get along pretty well—Handel gets along with everyone, though. Or, well, talks to everyone.”

“Oh.”

Alba’s insides twisted. “Neve, I saw her, at the mall, the day she… After I’d taken you home, I went back to meet Handel.She’d run into Roxanne. I mean, it didn’t once occur to me that it might be her. The Longs… they’re gay.”

Neve stared at her, and Alba could see all of the lies crashing down on her. What was it about this girl that attracted all the liars and manipulators? She might not have mentioned Roxanne’s name, but she had mentioned her ex being too afraid to come out to her homophobic family. But the Longs weren’t homophobic. Even outside of the cute, old lesbian couple Alba’s parents were friends with, the rest of the family were delightful. They’d welcomed Alba’s coming out with open arms. They’d been instrumental in her figuring out she was a lesbian. She’d gone to marches and parades with them. Roxanne’s parents were always so sweet to her. Alba had seen Roxanne’s mom carrying an ‘I love my gay moms’ tote almost every time she’d seen her. Roxanne had nothing to be afraid of. Yet she’d spent months cosplaying someone who genuinely had to fear for her family ever finding out she was queer? Months keeping Neve hidden, why?

Neve dropped down to sit in the sand, staring out over the sparkling blue ocean as she processed. Alba could only imagine she was asking herself the exact same questions Alba was, only worse because she’d lived it. And she’d lived the breakup, Charlie, everything else that sucked lately.

Alba sat down beside her, going readily into her arms when Neve reached out to her.

It took a while, but, eventually, something switched in Neve’s expression, something hard and resolute, and she looked back at Alba. “It was never my fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Alba agreed instinctively. She paused. “Uh, none of it was, but what specifically are we talking about?”

She leaned her head against Alba’s shoulder. “I spent nine months feeling like I wasn’t good enough, like I was something shameful. Not because I thought Roxanne’s familywas homophobic—I’m not worried about homophobes thinking there’s something wrong with me. That’s all their problem. But because she wouldn’t tell the people who clearly weren’t homophobic about me. You know? She has friends who seem queer. It didn’t seem to be about the fact that I was a woman, so it had to be about who I was as a person. Then, with what she said when we broke up… I thought it was because I was ace, like she hadn’t wanted to admit she was with someone like me, you know? But it wasn’t at all, was it? She’s lucky enough to have a loving, supportive,acceptingfamily—and extended community—around her, and she still wanted to hide me away like I didn’t matter. Like I was something dirty. She had no idea what she had, what a privilege she had. It was all her problem.”

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