Bianca Torre Is Afraid of Everything, page 27
I grin. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Mrs. Coleman walks up to us. Her eyes are a little watery, and I know we definitely worried her a lot by being kidnapped and everything.
“Did the paramedics say you’re both all right?” she asks.
“We’re great,” Anderson says. “Considering the circumstances.”
I push myself back up into a seated position while Anderson rolls on his side.
Mrs. Coleman gets down on her knees to pull me into a tight hug.
“I’m so glad you’re both okay,” she says into my shoulder.
And honestly, me too.
She pulls away to hug Anderson. I take the chance to glance around the auditorium. The audience is pretty much gone. It’s over.
I’m not sure if I’ll get in trouble for punching Ms. Richards, but I’m not going to worry about that now.
For now, we all survived, and everything is good.
A lot of the cast and crew of the musical, along with their families, are around, as the police are getting statements from anyone with a parent or guardian present.
Elaine is talking with one of the paramedics in the front row, also with a wrap on her head.
“They’re going to want to hear from us too,” Anderson says.
“Do I need a lawyer or something?” I ask.
“I mean, you’re not accused of anything, so I don’t think so,” he says. “Your mom is probably scarier anyway.”
“You’re not wrong.”
Mrs. Coleman gives me a quick pat on the back. “You can take your time though. Once you’re ready, we can get your parents.”
I look between the two of them. “There’s one thing I want to do first.”
I slowly stand, trying not to move too quickly and get woozy again. The last thing I need to do is throw up when I already fainted in front of everyone. My cheeks heat, but I clench my fists as I keep walking forward.
I don’t stop until I’m about two feet away from her.
Fear #6: Initiating Conversation
“Hey, Elaine,” I say. “Can we talk for a minute?”
The paramedic nods and steps aside, and Elaine turns to me. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “You?”
“Not bad for narrowly escaping a murderous bird cult,” she says with a smile. Even in our current states, she’s so freaking beautiful. Her hair is a mess and stained with dried blood, and my heart still beats rapid-fire at the sight of her.
Fear #13: Beautiful People
“I have something to ask you,” I say, my chest squeezing as I rock on my feet.
“Okay,” she says.
Fear #32: Not Being Liked
I force myself to look directly into her eyes, and she doesn’t look away. My heart thumps higher in my chest.
Fear #44: Prolonged Eye Contact
“I think you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” I say. The words come out so quickly, tumbling over each other, but I keep it going. “And I’ve had a massive crush on you forever, so would you maybe consider going on a date with me?”
I take a breath.
I can’t believe I did that.
Elaine’s face goes bright red.
“Um, yeah,” she says. “I’ve had a crush on you forever, too.”
For a second, I’m not sure I heard her correctly. I feel so light, and I want to cover my lips before they split into a smile.
“Really?” I ask.
“Well, since I met you. I thought it’d been obvious lately.” We can barely look each other in the eye now. “And, you know, I’m in the market for new people to go hiking with. Turns out my birding group was a cover for a money-stealing cult.”
“Mine too,” I say. “It’s perfect timing.”
“What a coincidence,” she says through a smile.
“So . . . I’ll text you?” I ask. Because she probably doesn’t want to plan out our date right here and now.
“Yeah,” Elaine says. “I’d like that.”
“Okay,” I say. “Do you have a ride home?”
“My parents are here, I should go meet with them, but we’ll talk soon. About our date.” She rubs her arm.
My skin burns, but in a good way. “Our date, yeah. Just me and you. Totally. Yes. Um . . . get home safe, and, yeah, talk soon!”
I turn away quickly so she doesn’t see how much I’m smiling. I can’t believe I have a date with Elaine Yee. And she actually likes me back.
I glance up at the stage, to where Mrs. Coleman, Anderson, and even Ronan stare at me with huge smiles on their faces.
“Were you three listening?” I ask.
They don’t try to deny it.
“It was adorable,” Ronan says.
As if I wasn’t already blushing enough before. I can’t look back at Elaine, so I’ll have to text her an apology later. Anderson and Ronan both give me little shoves, saying how proud they are. Mrs. Coleman pulls me into another hug.
“Ready to talk to the police?” Anderson asks.
“I guess,” I say.
Ronan holds out the flash drive. “I brought this in case you want to turn it in.”
I look between the three of them and back to the flash drive.
“You think it’d be all right if we give them that tomorrow?”
TO THE GIRL WITH THE TELESCOPE
I’m not sure why I’m leaving this to you. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, and I’m sure not making it easy for you to find it. Even if you do decide to help me, there’s no guarantee you’ll get this far, and I wouldn’t blame you. But I have hope.
Maybe it’s because I don’t know what else to do.
Maybe it’s because I don’t have anyone else.
Maybe it’s because, in some weird way, you remind me of him.
Nate always loved ornithology. He was most himself when he was surrounded by birds, and he would constantly message me about them. When he went missing, I knew I would do anything to find out what happened.
Even die for it. Even involve you.
I saw you the day you saw me, peeking through my curtains. I had the feeling I was being watched, so I took a page out of your book and used binoculars to try to find out why. At the time, you were actually birdwatching, which is why I started leaving you those drawings.
It was like I got a piece of my nephew back in some ways.
But to be honest, you don’t just remind me of Nate. You remind me of myself. When I noticed you looking in at all these different lives, I wasn’t mad.
Because I get it.
You look through glass like I do, only I use a computer screen.
It’s so easy to be afraid. To feel like you are too much or not enough, or a combination of both. It’s comfortable to stay away, as much as it is lonely. I saw loneliness in you. Probably because I’m so used to feeling it myself.
If you’re reading this, you already have the information on the Flock and their Valley Quail scheme. I hope you can do something about it, and I truly hope nothing bad happens to you as a result of this. I can barely live with myself to think that I am directly putting a teenager into the line of fire. To be fair, I won’t have to live with it for much longer.
I hope you can do what Nate and I failed to do. I don’t necessarily have a reason, but I believe you can. And I’d like to tell you one thing before I go.
Do not get so absorbed in your fear that you let it prevent you from being yourself. I know how hard it is, but try to put your happiness first. You will make mistakes, you will feel pain, you will even have major regrets, but those things are beautiful, because they mean you actually lived.
I didn’t realize this until it was too late, so maybe you can live on my behalf.
It’s a short life, and the worst thing to do is go through it alone.
With hope and thanks,
Steven Lebedev
Thirty-Five
New Beginnings
It’s kind of weird to have a couple chilling in my bedroom with me, but since it’s my best friend and my newest friend, it kind of works. Anderson and Layla sit next to each other on my bed, backs against the wall, Puck curled up at their feet.
I turn slowly in front of them, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeve button-up with little cats all over it.
“Okay,” Layla says. “I love the shirt, but I’m kind of feeling the first pants option.”
Anderson puts his hand on his chin, looking down at my jeans.
“Yeah . . .” he starts. “I mean, you look chill. But I think you want to look more than chill on your first date.”
Just the thought of it makes me blush. I try to distract myself by walking back into my closet to peel off my pants.
“Where did you two go for your first date?” I ask. “You didn’t tell me on Thanksgiving.”
“In front of my nana? Really?” Anderson snorts. “Did you not decide where you’re taking her yet?”
I peek my head out from the closet door to glare at him. “I already told you. We’re grabbing food and then going to the Getty.”
“So Los Angeles,” he says.
I’m back in the closet changing into the black pants I tried on for the first option, but I manage to stick my hand out to flip him off. “What was your first date, then?”
“We got ramen,” Layla answers. “Then watched Demon Slayer.”
“So weeb trash,” I respond, imitating Anderson’s voice.
I step out of the closet in the cat shirt but with the original pants.
Layla puts her hand on her chin, looking over my appearance. “Wait, tuck the shirt in, if you’re comfortable with that.”
I unbutton my pants to tuck the shirt in, forcing it down so it’s smooth. Then I adjust the waistband.
“And unbutton the top button of your shirt,” Anderson adds.
I do kind of have it high enough that I could be going to church. I undo the top button.
Both Anderson and Layla practically jump up from their seats.
“That’s it!” Anderson says at the same time Layla exclaims, “You look so good.”
My face heats.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m glad you didn’t think it was weird I invited you both over to help me get dressed.”
“First of all,” Layla says. “You invited us over to watch the new episode of One Piece.”
I mean, that’s true, we did do that. We planned it after last Sunday’s group meeting, where I managed to publicly mention I had a date and not throw up and pass out. A huge win for me.
“Second, I wanted to show you my new comic concept,” Anderson adds. “And third, we would have come even if it was solely for helping you decide what to wear.”
His sketching has been really improving, and Anderson is a great storyteller. I loved his idea for a comedic slasher comic. I really hope he actually makes it, because I’m already more than a little invested.
“And your concept is brilliant.” I glance down again at my outfit. “I really look all right?”
“Saying you look all right is like saying the weird murder cult was a small annoyance,” Layla teases. “You look amazing.”
I blush. Though it’s only been two weeks since everything went down with the cult, it feels like a different lifetime. I can’t complain that the most stressful November of my life is over, but it is strange. If anything, the worst part of it is knowing that I totally fell for Jillian’s lies. I trusted her. I looked up to her.
Ms. Richards, too. As much as I hate to admit it, it has been a lot harder to pay attention in English class since she was replaced.
Ms. Richards is a terrible, trash person, but she really wasn’t a bad teacher.
Jillian being gone is a different story. Not only did I lose her, but I lost the entire GLAOE. It was basically a scam from the start, sure, but it was a community for me. Without that, it’s like there is a little something missing.
But, thankfully, Terrance and Margaret are starting their own birding group with a focus on marginalized birdwatchers. One that is actually a birding group, and not a cover for anything. They’ve already invited Elaine and me on their first walk next Saturday, on the ninth.
Plus, Elaine and I can always go on our own hikes, too.
“You look great, you’re ready, and you can totally do this,” Anderson says.
“Okay,” I say. “I look great, I’m ready, and I can totally do this.”
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and smooth my hair, the longest waves now only falling to my right ear. I force a smile. My body doesn’t quite follow along, as it’s still jittery and shaky.
“You are Bianca Torre. You punched a killer in the face. You can impress a girl on a date,” he continues.
“I punched a killer in the face,” I repeat. “I did that.”
The doorbell rings. I stay frozen in place, stomach churning.
“Now what do you do?” Anderson asks.
I twist to him and Layla. “Throw up,” I say.
“Oooh,” he says. “So close. But no. You answer the door.”
“Right,” I say. “Of course.”
I start walking out of the room. “Are you staying here?”
“No, that’d be weird,” Layla says. “But we’ll wait until you leave.”
“Cool,” I say. “Right. Of course.”
I exit my room.
“Text me everything after,” Anderson calls from behind.
My heart is beating quickly and my body is filled with nervous energy. I shake out my hands a little bit like I’ve seen Kate do in her warm-ups.
It doesn’t really help.
I take a deep breath and pull open the door. Elaine is there, hair down and straightened, and she wears a navy-blue romper that is incredibly cute.
“You look amazing,” we both say at the same time.
And then both blush at the same time, too.
“You ready?” Elaine asks, reaching out with her hand.
“Yeah.” I take it in mine. “I’m ready.”
Bianca Torre’s List of Fears
1. Public Speaking/Humiliation 1.5. Tied: Guns
2. Spiders
3. Murder
4. Pandemics
5. Dead Bodies
6. Initiating Conversation
7. My Mom Reading My Semi-Erotic Fanfic
8. Being Alone
9. Wildfires
10. Blood
11. Telling My Parents I’m a Raging Lesbian
12. The Future
13. Beautiful People 13.5. Assuming It’s a Date When It Isn’t
14. Zombies
15. Loss of Control
16. Getting Caught Doing Something Bad
17. Being the Center of Attention in Any Circumstance
18. Having Rumors Spread About Me
19. Getting Bad Grades
20. Phone Calls
21. Doki Doki Literature Club!
22. People in Positions That Grossly Abuse Power
23. Being Watched
24. Sheep
25. Snakes
26. Dangerous Situations in General
27. Being Watched Through My Laptop Camera
28. Being Needed in a Crisis
29. Falling
30. Falling Onto an Umbrella and Dying (Thanks, Another)
31. Being Rude
32. Not Being Liked
33. Mountain Lions
34. Ventriloquists and Especially Their Dummies
35. Elevators
36. Opening Up to Family
37. Opening Up to Strangers
38. Close Contact
39. Mascots
40. People Making a Big Deal Out of Things
41. Rabbits
42. Pissing Off My Mom
43. Acting Classes
44. Prolonged Eye Contact
45. Accidentally Saying “You Too” to Customer Service Workers When That Doesn’t Make Sense
46. Sweat and Other Bodily Fluids
47. Being Caught in a Lie
48. Skin Cancer
49. Dying Before the Conclusion of One Piece
50. Driving (And Inevitably Failing at It)
51. Getting Called On in Class When I’m Not Prepared
52. Improv
53. Large Objects Falling Unexpectedly on Me
54. Escape Rooms
55. Breaking into a Dead Guy’s Apartment
56. Animal Carcasses
57. Having to Talk to Anyone I Don’t Already Know Well
58. Whatever the Fuck This Is 58.5. Anderson’s “Great Ideas”
59. Getting My Ass Kicked
60. Ringworm
61. Opening Up to Friends
62. Cult Members Murdering the Girl I Like
63. Cult Members Murdering Anyone I Like
64. Anything Bad Happening to Ryan Pérez, Goddamned Hero
65. Telling People about This List
66. Cultlike Chants
67. Not Being Able to Save My Sister
68. That the Cult That Tried to Murder Me Doesn’t Get Time
69. First Dates
70. Letting My Fears Hold Me Back
Justine Pucella Winans Is Thankful to Everyone
First, to my mom, who has supported me since I was writing full-length books as a teenager and dreaming about seeing them on shelves one day. Even if that meant reading an entire draft of a sapphic pirate fantasy with a somewhat explicit scene and pretending that didn’t leave you with questions about me. I wouldn’t be here without you, and I definitely wouldn’t be this funny. (But not as funny as you, I know, I know.) Thank you so much, and I love you more.
To Alex Brown, for being the best writing friend and supporting this book when it was still Lesbian Sheep Idea??? Thanks so much for checking yes on my Do I Write This? note, and for being the first person to really believe in Bianca. You (and your incredible books) are amazing!
To Thomy, my love, my soul mate, my best friend. Your support means everything to me, and I could write pages of how much you mean to me and how none of this would be possible without you, but I’m not going to make you do all that reading. Te adoro, mi amor. You are my everything.
To Jasper Fidencio and Twinklepop Mauricio, the world’s finest writer’s assistants and handsomest cats. Jasper, you have chewed on my outlines from the very beginning, and your jumpiness and penchant for spying on both birds and the neighbors inspired a lot of Bianca. Twinklepop, you’re newer to this, but I love you all the same. You two are the best boys.
