Then Everything Happens at Once, page 21
“Lara.”
He shrugs. “What is there to say?”
“Are you still talking to her?”
“No.”
“Not at all?”
“Not since before school ended for March break,” he says. “You?”
“No. She’s mad at me.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
Freddie taps on his phone, and soon a song starts through his speaker. He puts the phone back in his pocket, the music trailing behind us.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask.
“I don’t really know, actually. I’ve always wanted to explore the area.”
“I’m not much of an explorer.”
He makes a face. “I’m actually looking for a spot for us to . . . you know.”
I haven’t decided how I feel about this when voices start coming from ahead. A group of people our age is becoming visible through the trees. Fear erupts within me, and I search for an escape with my eyes, but there’s nothing except for an empty space with a bunch of trees I’m too fat to hide behind. This whole idea was very much idiotic.
Even though no one is near me, I pull out the medical mask I have in my purse and throw it on.
“You planning on making out with these people?” Freddie jokes.
“No, but what if they cough or sneeze? It could shoot through the air and land directly in my mouth.”
I pull the mask off again, keeping it in my hand, and I move back to stand against a large rock. The group gets closer to us, three guys and two girls weaving their way through the trees until they finally notice us. Freddie quiets his music, looking totally at ease. Their eyes settle on us, but they maintain a good ten feet of distance from us.
“I wouldn’t go that way,” one of the guys tells Freddie. “There’s a guy raging in his yard, threatening to call the cops.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Freddie says.
One of the girls stares at him, and I can tell what she might be thinking and feeling. I watch her smile at him, and I know that what I’m suspecting is happening.
The group starts heading toward us, aiming for the path we took to get here. Freddie grabs my hand and pulls us away, like he’s protecting our personal space, our social distancing. The group passes by. The girl looks at my hand in Freddie’s, and it’s subtle, but I’m trained to notice the look that’s barely there. A momentary What the hell is this? expression, followed by a shrug.
In this moment, this girl is a stand-in for Lara, and I feel my face let go of the awkwardness I was feeling, my eyebrow pulling up high while I aim my best dirty look right at the back of her head as she walks away. Why can’t I be here with Freddie?
He comes to rest against the rock with me, leaning in close. “You know what sucks?”
“What?”
“There is no way we can go to Port Perry now. Everything is closed.”
“Maybe later, in the summer? Things are going to have to reopen, right?”
“Maybe.”
Then he starts telling me about his screenplay. Without friends and school monopolizing his time, solid effort was put in, and he says he’s headed into act three, which I guess is supposed to be impressive.
“I’m kind of wondering if you’d want to read part of it,” he says.
“Really?”
“I want your opinion. Maybe just on the first act.”
He comes to stand in front of me, so close that I’m staring at his lips again. He steals a glance down the front of my shirt, giving an exaggerated nod of approval, which makes me laugh. My eyes blur on his lips, my head getting hazy. Then we’re kissing.
“Freddie?”
He locks eyes with me when his lips are still on mine.
“What if they saw us, those people? What if that brunette girl who was clearly into you just now came back and saw this?”
“I guess I’d tell her to stop being creepy and go home.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” He nods, playing with the hem of my shirt. But still I can’t help but wonder if this is only happening because life is interrupted. All the things that mattered so much—like school, the people in it, their judgment—are on hold. It’s restrictions and house arrest on one hand, but it’s total freedom from the usual bullshit on the other. Maybe in this world, we’re different people, playing by different rules.
“You should come over later,” he says.
“I’m not even supposed to be out now!”
“Tonight, when everyone’s asleep. Sneak out,” he says. “Come to the garage.”
He wags his eyebrows, which makes me smile. “Maybe.”
I already know I’m going to make it happen.
We walk back to the bridge. The group of people must’ve found somewhere else to go, because under the bridge is still deserted. I check my phone, finding texts from my mother.
My phone rings, and it’s my house number.
“Shit,” I say, glancing at the texts. “My mom knows I left.”
“Uh-oh.”
[Baylee] I just went to see Freddie. I’m on his lawn and he’s in his garage. We’re just talking.
[Mom] Get back here. NOW.
We make our way through the rocky layer under the bridge, to see a couple of police officers standing in the parking lot where Freddie is parked.
Thirty-Four
I don’t know how Freddie manages to be cool and calm in all situations that give me internal anxiety meltdowns, but he walks over to his car like we’re not about to get arrested and thrown in jail.
“What’s going on here?” the woman officer says.
“Not much. Just came for a walk,” Freddie says.
I want to roll my eyes, because I look like the last person who would ever break the rules just to go for a walk.
“Come on,” the male officer says, clearly not in the mood to play this game. “You guys know what’s going on, right?”
“We’ve gotten a couple calls about groups of kids coming out here,” the first officer says.
“Maybe you two somehow missed the news? Missed the word about all nonessential outings being out of the question?” the male officer says. He’s lecturing us about our bad decision to disregard some of the rules meant to keep us safe, but at the same time, he’s standing too close to us. I take several steps back until I’m sure the two meters that’s supposed to keep germs away is between us.
He carries on with “Maybe you don’t take this seriously, huh? People getting sick and dying isn’t enough of a reason for you to follow the rules.”
“All right,” Freddie says. “We get it. We messed up.”
I’ve only spoken to a police officer one other time in my life, and that was on the day of the seat-belt fiasco. That one was kind, but this one looks ready to hand me a very expensive ticket.
I finally find my voice. “Are we going to get fined?”
The male officer lets his gaze bore into me first, then Freddie. “Not this time. Smarten up and tell your friends to do the same.”
“Okay,” I say as Freddie nods.
Freddie pulls out his keys, and we get into the car.
As we drive away, Freddie says, “Damn. There’s a possibility that this was not worth it.”
“My mother is going to kill me.”
Freddie doesn’t say anything. The silence gives me mental space to try and come up with a way to explain this.
When I get home, my mother makes me disinfect my hands with sanitizer before going to the bathroom to wash up to my elbows thoroughly. She watches with her arms folded, her angry eyes on me.
“You snuck out?”
“No. I mean, I woke up and I guess you didn’t see me come down. I decided to go outside. And Freddie was outside, too.”
“Baylee, I saw the blanket in your bed. Was I supposed to think that was you rolled up under there?”
“No. That’s stupid. I was just cold last night, so I got my other blanket out.”
Mom’s angry eyes fade a little when she lets out a sigh. “It is very important that you take this seriously, Baylee.”
“I am.”
Sort of.
Not really.
“I’ll have to speak with Sheila. You both know better.”
I know better, but I can’t bring myself to be better.
“But he’s five minutes away from here. Can’t we keep two meters apart?”
“It’s too soon to be taking risks.”
“Okay, fine.”
The rest of the evening I spend in my room, messaging with Rianne on and off while I eat the overbaked fish sticks and cold, dry fries Mom had made for dinner while I was out. On IG, I see that Lara’s latest post was twenty minutes ago, and it’s of her outside on her balcony while Taylor is far off in the background, standing on her own balcony next door, her fingers in a cliché peace sign. Lara’s IG stories are full of little clips of the two of them that I don’t want to watch.
Dawn, my sister’s main nurse, is downstairs, going through Rebecca’s nighttime routine of medications, bath, skin care, breathing treatments, and chest physiotherapy, which helps her move what’s in her chest so she can cough it out. It’s midnight, but Rebecca’s sleep is always a mess anyway, and Dawn is the one my mother trusts the most, so if my sister’s awake and in a good mood, they take advantage of the time.
Mom is in bed. I know this because I’ve been peeking into the hallway every half hour since nine.
[Freddie] I really wish you could come over tonight.
[Baylee] Me too. But it’s too risky.
For the next little while, Freddie and I text about things I would like to be doing in real life. Heat moves to my face, and a funny feeling makes my head feel hazy. He’s right there, across the street. So close.
[Baylee] I’m going to try to get past the nurse.
[Freddie] Really?
I’ve never asked Dawn if legally, she’s obligated to tell on me. It’s not like this kind of thing has ever come up before. Technically, Dawn is here only for Rebecca. She’s not responsible for anything else that goes on in the house, which is why my mother always insisted on going over all the safety rules with me: fire safety, not answering the door to strangers, and keeping doors locked at all times—all while there was always an adult in the house with me. But still—she’s known my mom for years. I think she’d tell.
Whether I take the front door or the door to the garage, I’ll have to go down the stairs next to Rebecca’s room.
[Freddie] Don’t get in trouble because of me again, Bay.
[Freddie] But if you come, I will be fucking ecstatic.
I smile to myself at the top of the stairs and wrap my bathrobe around the off-shoulder top I’ve got on over black leggings. Not just any black leggings, but the ones with a crisscross pattern that goes from my ankles up the back of my legs to my butt. I’ve placed my pointy red pumps and my purse in a mesh bag.
I try to be quiet going down, but not overly so. If Dawn catches me, I’ll just act as though I’ve come down to grab something before bed.
I have decided that if the universe wants me to see Freddie, I’ll be able to get through the door, and if I’m meant to stay home and rot alone in my room, the universe will make Dawn turn around and catch me in the act.
Dawn flips on the mixer, which means she’s making formula. The mixer is loud, and she’ll be standing there blending it for a good two minutes.
I’ve left it up to fate, and fate says to go see Freddie.
I let myself out, rushing into the night in my pink bathrobe with feathery trim on the sleeves. The fuzzy black slippers on my feet have a surprisingly good grip.
In the walkway, I slip on the shoes, ball up the robe around the slippers, and place them into the bag.
Freddie’s garage door is only up by a couple of feet. My heels echo into the night as I make my way up the driveway. He pulls the door up above his head, vapes, and lets out a huge cloud of vapor with his breath. He puts a finger in front of his lips, and I understand we are meant to be very quiet. It’s unlikely his mom would hear us out here, but all precautions must be taken when you’re trying not to get caught.
We stare at each other for a moment. I have this thought that maybe there will never be a time where looking at him gets boring. My whole body is on fire, and I’m still ten feet away from him.
“Well . . . um, hello,” he says.
I smile, then rush inside so he can close the door on our illegal behavior.
“You know I wouldn’t like, put you in danger, right?” Freddie whispers. “I mean, with Rebecca and everything. If I thought that—”
“I know.”
My eyes take in the garage, the pullout couch dressed as a bed, the Christmas lights strung across the wall above the couch, and the music that plays through a speaker on the workbench.
“This is very nice,” I say.
“I tried to make it a little less garagey.”
“Hang on,” I say, hesitating. “Is this thing going to bend if I sit on it? Is it sturdy?”
One of my internal, fat-girl considerations just fell out of me, right there, into the air around us. This is another way the mood gets killed by me.
“It’s fine. Watch.” Freddie bounces around on the mattress part. He looks ridiculous, which makes me laugh. I take a seat at the top end of the couch, by the back of it, because I figure that part is less likely to collapse or flip over. Freddie comes over to me, and I can already sense things are different tonight, more intense.
He listens to me and takes his time. He says, “Is this okay?” And of course, it is. It’s next-level okay.
“Wait,” I say, putting a hand on his chest at the moment I feel things amp up in a way that makes it clear hitting pause on things will soon be difficult. Last time, we got pretty far, but not as far as we are now.
“What’s up?”
“Don’t think I’m weird.” I reach for my purse and pull out a little bottle of clear lubricant, which I offer to him.
“Wow—so you came here prepared,” he says, then laughs as he waves a shiny condom. “Me too.”
I pretend to go for a fist bump, which makes him laugh again.
The truth is, I’ve spent so long researching things about sex—all the kinds of sex—online that I was kind of ready for it to actually happen. Someone on YouTube made this video about lubricant, and the way they talked about it, it just stayed with me, the idea that this is a vital accessory. So I bought a little bottle of it like a year ago, and I’ve just hidden it in the little zippered pocket at the back of my purse, where it could remain a secret but also be there in case my fantasies were to come true.
I can’t believe this is real.
Freddie keeps the lights off completely, doesn’t even ask to turn them on. It’s a small gift I didn’t have to ask for.
When Freddie and I get to the part we’re all taught to expect will hurt, it doesn’t, and I know it’s because of the contents of that little bottle I brought. It’s the exact opposite of hurt. It’s a rush, and every inch of me glows in the dark.
Thirty-Five
The following evening, I join my mother on the couch as she watches a news reports on some little town I’ve never heard of until now. I zone out, staring at the TV, my eyes registering nothing that flashes before them. I am too busy deciding what I’m feeling today, other than the total giddiness that makes my head swim. This is a serious thing that happened last night. Not serious because a particular body part went into another. It’s serious and important because I can let my mind take me back there without cringing at the mental images. I can conjure Freddie and me up in my mind, and all it does is make me want to do it again.
I hope Freddie wants to do it again, too.
“This is an abomination,” my mother says, her words clashing with where my mind is. “Over twenty dead in one small nursing home.”
“What happened?”
“There’s been an outbreak at a nursing home. The residents didn’t even stand a chance.” Mom says. “Staff are sick, but they still have to go to work because there’s no one else to look after these people.”
“Why?”
“It’s a small town.”
[Rianne] OMG GUYS! Guess where I am??????
[Lara] ???
[Rianne] I’m in the car with my parents. We’re on our way to Cedar Valley to break my grandma and grandpa out of there.
[Baylee] OMG, yes. They’ll be safe at your house. The stuff on the news is so sad.
[Rianne] I know. My dad lost it when he saw that. My mom’s making me move to the basement so they can have my room.
[Lara] Are you okay with that?
[Rianne] TOTALLY! I don’t want them dying. Plus the basement has its own bathroom and my dad is going to finish the rec room so there’s a door and everything.
“Rianne’s parents are on their way right now to take her grandparents out of Cedar Valley,” I tell my mom. Cedar Valley is about thirty minutes from here.
“That’s smart. That place is half retirement, half nursing home. If it gets in there, it’ll spread like fire,” Mom says. “Good for them.”
[Freddie] Come over tonight.
[Baylee] I’m not sure if I can.
[Freddie] Try. I’ll be out there waiting for you.
I head back to my room to get away from the death stuff, and to start preparing for my possible escape tonight. I draw myself a bath, dropping a bath bomb in, and it fizzes pink. In the water, I spend some time writing in my journal, and the paper ends up sprinkled with bathwater.
I think of Alex, about what it would feel like to be at her house again, sitting on the green couch, just talking and watching her lips while records spin songs I’ve never heard before. But my mind takes me back to last night, to Freddie.
In my room, I lie like a naked starfish on my bed, letting myself air-dry before I apply coconut oil to my skin. There’s a message request in my DMs that I hadn’t noticed.
[Pen] So how come ur chatting up Garrett even after I told you he’s interested in you?
