Page 7 of Party Favors
Wren:Muscle memory. Just need to build up other muscles.
Amanda smiled. She was typing on her phone with her right hand since Wren had commandeered her left, and it took her longer than usual. Wren wondered if Amanda was left-handed. She couldn’t wait to find out all kinds of new things about her friend.
Amanda:I don’t feel like I’m any of those things. Cool, interesting, creative, etc. Or if I am, I’m not using those traits. My job is boring. I never do anything exciting or fun. I do what my family expects of me, which is show up, look pretty, and not make waves. Then I spend my free time in front of the TV or rage-scrolling through Twitter.
Wren wished she knew how to help Amanda on the job front, but it was hard to detour out of the carefully crafted life you’d always known.
Wren:Hey, Twitter brought us together, so I’m not gonna say anything negative about that.
Amanda:That’s true.
Wren:Sometimes I wish I had a boring job I could turn off at 5 p.m. One that didn’t take up so much of my emotional bandwidth.
“But what you create is so beautiful. It’s art.” Amanda’s voice made Wren jump. It was soft and close.
Wren rolled onto her side so she was fully facing Amanda. Amanda mirrored her. Their pinkies were still linked like a promise.
“One day, you’re going to open the Disco Ball Bazaar—a vintage clothing store—and really stick it to your parents. I want a front-row seat,” Wren said.
Amanda scrunched up her nose. She had freckles. They fanned out down the sides of her nose. Wren longed to touch them.
She refrained.
“I’d never call it that,” Amanda said with a small huff. “It will be the Mothball Barn.”
“That’s a terrible name.”
“What about Rusty Zipper Vintage and More?”
Wren laughed. “Better, but not great.” She reached over and lightly fingered the bow of Amanda’s blouse. “Where did you get this? It’s cool.”
“It was my godmother’s when she was in high school.”
“I love it.”
Amanda bit her lip. “Me too.”
Wren treasured the openness on Amanda’s face. She’d known it would be awesome to be together in person, but she’d never expected Amanda to spill vulnerability all over the place right off the bat. Normally, Amanda was collected and wry. Wren liked seeing these new facets of her. The insecure and imperfect bits were perfect to Wren.
It was bravery, that was what it was. Amanda might have been forced to admit some shit because she’d tripped into a pool and was embarrassed, but it was still brave. Wren wasn’t brave. Not brave enough to talk about the sadness she felt that everyone in her life was moving on and coupling up. Not brave enough to admit that she was scared she would never find a partner to take her seriously, to see past her messiness, or, better yet, love her for that chaos.
“What resolution are you going to make, Amanda? What’s something we can work toward in the next, oh, three hours? Somethingfun.”
Amanda’s eyes sparkled in the low lights of the bedroom. They were a gorgeous blue. The blue of deep lake water and temptation.
“You first.”
“We already resolved my old year’s resolution. Don’t you think?” Wren said. “If we have to lie side by side and text, I’m okay with that. It’s nice being near you.”
Everything about being in Amanda’s presence was nice.
“Okay. A resolution. I want to … come out of the closet to you.”
Wren tangled all their fingers together. “You’ve already done that, haven’t you?” Amanda had shared very early on in their friendship.
“Yeah. But I’ve never told anyone in person, out loud. Just online.”
Thatwasnews to Wren. She’d assumed Amanda didn’t have much experience with people who weren’t the cis men her mom had set her up with, but never even saying it out loud? Wren hoped she handled this right, that Amanda would see she was valued and loved.
