Then Everything Happens at Once, page 7
[Freddie] You drove right past me last night. What’s going on? Are you ignoring me?
With that, I’m taken right back to feeling so very stupid and ashamed, but with an added layer of cringe because I did zoom on by him last night like a coward.
[Baylee] It was an accident. Just forget about it.
[Freddie] Okay. But what’s up with the awkwardness?
[Baylee] I can pay you back for the cleaning.
[Freddie] Don’t worry about that.
I roll out of bed and head across the hall for a shower. When I get back to my room, I find my brand-new bra drying on my bed, no sign of the blood. It helps my mood. Lara and I text for a while, mostly about this new crush of hers.
[Lara] He says he sees something different in me.
[Baylee] Different from what?
[Lara] Just . . . different.
Lara is typing some more, taking forever, so I switch over to a more stimulating conversation, pulling up my DMs with Alex.
[Baylee] Can I ask you a very serious question?
[Alex] Always.
[Baylee] Do you DM other Bookworm customers like you DM me?
[Alex] No way.
[Baylee] Interesting.
[Alex] I didn’t think we’d keep talking after I thanked u for commenting on my post, TBH.
I go to his IG profile and notice a new post from this morning. An overexposed angled shot of a skinny upper body in a black polo shirt and white button-down over that, arm wrapped around a biology textbook. I can see the bottom of his face, including a cheek piercing. The caption reads: Sundays are for homework.
I save the photo to my phone.
[Baylee] What is that green thing behind you in the photo you posted earlier?
[Alex] One of my prized possessions. It’s my velvet beast.
Another photo comes through of a large, avocado-colored couch.
[Baylee] Wow! I’ve never seen a couch like that.
[Alex] I really like old things. My great-uncle died about three years back. He was like my grandpa, and he left me all his stuff. My whole basement is full of it.
[Baylee] What else did you inherit?
[Alex] My record collection is very sacred.
We chat for a while, moving on to our favorite TV shows, books, and music. When Alex has to leave for work, I realize my room only felt so cozy and lovely because of him. Boredom hits, and Lara’s latest text telling me to come over is suddenly very appealing.
Downstairs, Mom is scooping Rebecca up from the floor to put her back in her bed. I watch my mother tuck Rebecca’s arms under her weighted blanket and turn on the colorful bedside lamp. Soon Rebecca settles into staring at the colors as they dance around the room.
“I’m thinking of going to Lara’s for a bit,” I say. “Can I go?”
“Don’t you think you should take it easy, Boss?”
“I did. I’ve been taking it easy for hours. Now I’m bored, and it’s barely three in the afternoon,” I say. “It’s just Lara’s. Her dad’s a neurologist. It’s literally the best place for me to be.”
It doesn’t take much convincing, and she even allows me to call an Uber on account of the shittery that landed all over me yesterday.
Lara lives in a big house on a cul-de-sac that is about a fifteen-minute drive from my house, where shiny cars that are mostly BMWs and Mercedes are parked in large driveways. Taylor’s house is to my right, and I always take a glance at it with the dirtiest look ever, just in case she happens to be looking out a window. I knock and Lara’s uncle lets me in. Kavith acknowledges my arrival from the living room where he and Nimal are settled around a gaming console. Nimal winks at me the way he always does, and something inside me swells. An aunt nods a smile from the laundry room. Some man I don’t know says hello as he struggles with two cases of water bottles, likely taking them to the extra fridge in the garage.
“Are you all better now?” Lara asks from her spot in the sitting room, which is this fancy living room without a TV.
“I feel like my nose will never be the same.”
“The most important thing is that it doesn’t even look that bad.”
“But it hurts!”
“But your face still looks nice, right?” she says.
Lara is an only child, which means she’s her parents’ princess. She gets everything she wants, and since money never seems to be a problem in their household, whatever she gets is top-of-the-line, including the newest iPhone, a MacBook that’s not even a year old, and a bedroom that’s more than twice the size of my own.
“What do you feel like doing?” Lara asks.
“I don’t know. What do you feel like doing?”
“You’re usually the one who comes up with ideas, and then I pick the best one!”
“I’m just not at my best today.”
Something is on the stove, and the spicy, pungent scents of onions, oil, and so many spices and ingredients we never use at home radiate through the whole house.
“Wait—is that what I think it is?” I ask.
Lara nods, and seeing the glee that’s no doubt all over my face, she adds, “That’s obviously the real reason I invited you.”
“Your father’s biryani is sixty percent of the reasons I’m friends with you.”
As though conjured by my thought, Lara’s father comes in from the garage. “Baylee! Lara told me the story of your unfortunate little mishap.”
“Yes, well, it was next-level unfortunate.”
“I trust your nasal trauma is minor?”
“I think so.”
“Good, good. Well, to help you feel better, my dear, I decided to make you your favorite.”
“Really? You’re making it because of me?”
“In your honor,” he says. “And we’ve got some pakodas left over from a few nights ago, as long as you don’t mind them reheated.”
“Not at all. That is so thoughtful. Thank you, Mr. Kariyawasam,” I say.
Lara’s father checks the pot resting on the stovetop, releasing a wave of smell that makes my stomach growl, then he disappears back into the garage.
“Your dad is such a decent person,” I tell Lara.
“Hey! Give me some credit,” she says. “I’m the one who told him biryani would cheer you up.”
“You are the best,” I say, and she smiles wide.
“Freddie says you wouldn’t let him come to the hospital, and you drove right by him last night. Maybe we should talk about that?”
“You and Freddie are still talking about me?”
“He messaged me, asking if you’re mad at him.”
“I’m not. It’s not like I was trying to cut him out deliberately.”
“I get that,” Lara says, scrolling through her phone, typing. “I guess he just feels bad that this whole thing happened.”
“Who are you texting?”
She gives me a coy smile, but just then, her mother breezes by the living room. Lara gives me a sharp glare, but I already know I need to drop it. It’s not that Lara’s forbidden to date, but her parents are under the impression that she goes on the occasional innocent, respectful date. They don’t know of the Trey and Lara drama, or of all the boys who came before. Definitely not of the boy who comes after.
“Oh, hello, Baylee,” Mrs. Kariyawasam says. She comes over to cup my face very gently. “It is good to see you’re okay.”
“Thanks,” I say.
She moves to the kitchen. “I am making a little snack for the boys. Do you ladies want some?”
“No, thanks,” Lara says, then to me, “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Baylee? Would you like a little snack?”
“Yes, I would. Thank you,” I say.
“Fine, but we’ll take it upstairs,” Lara says.
A minute later, Mrs. Kariyawasam presents me with a small plate with cherry tomatoes and vegetable sticks arranged around a couple of fish patties.
“This is so pretty,” I say, because it is not a box of stale crackers or a Pizza Pop thrown in the microwave. “Thank you.”
Lara’s mother smiles at me as she continues preparing snacks for the cousins.
Lara is standing with one hand on the banister. “Let’s go up to my parents’ bathroom and I’ll curl your hair.”
My mouth widens. She knows how much I love that bathroom, because it looks like a spa, huge and all white tiles, large mirrors, with his-and-hers sinks.
“Hey,” I say as we head up the stairs, being super careful with my little snack plate. “Is this you being nice to me because of my freak accident? The food, the bathroom, the hair thing.”
“That’s kind of what this is,” she says. “But mostly, this is me finding a place where we can talk about stuff without my parents hearing.”
“Can you do my eyebrows, too?”
“Fine.”
Lara puts on our usual playlist of favorite songs, and the music that comes from her portable speaker fills the magical bathroom.
“Bend your head into the sink,” Lara says. I hold a towel over my face while her fingers lather my scalp, washing the mousse and hair spray out of my hair.
“You know how people go for massages or to the spa?” I ask, and Lara makes a sound of acknowledgment. “Do you think you can pay someone to scratch and rub your head? Is that a thing?”
“I have no idea.”
“I would ask for that for my birthday.”
Lara indulges me and keeps lathering my hair longer than necessary. Then she starts pouring hot water over my head. She finishes rinsing my hair, then I settle on a suede bench in front of the vanity. She starts untangling my hair with a wide-toothed comb.
“So when’s your first date with this new guy?” I ask.
“There is no date! Baylee, I keep telling you—I literally exchanged a few random texts with him in the past few months, and he was actually kind of annoying. But yesterday—I don’t know why, but he seemed a little more interesting. We’re not even talking about dating or anything. It’s . . . different.”
Different but the exact same, I bet.
“What do you think Trey would do if he found out you’re already interested in some new guy?”
“No one is going to tell him that, right?” Lara says. “Everyone involved is very discreet. The new guy—if he becomes a thing—well, he might just have to stay a secret.”
“Secrets are fun,” I say. “As long as I’m included.”
My phone vibrates.
[Alex] U look awesome in that photo.
Earlier today, I posted a photo of myself at Rianne’s house. It’s from months ago, but due to some sort of sorcery, the angle and my posture made my whole self look inoffensive to my eyes, which is a super-rare occasion. There are usually at least seven things about myself that make me gag—whether it’s my second chin, my shirt sitting awkwardly against my stomach, or my hair being too flat on one side—but this time, there was nothing for me to pick apart. The girl in that photo is who I wish I looked like in real life. It’s me, but it’s not really me.
[Baylee] 😳
[Alex] 😁
[Baylee] Can I tell you something?
[Alex] Totally.
[Baylee] I think your cheek piercings are really cool.
[Alex] Thanks! Those r only temporary.
[Baylee] Temporary?
[Alex] Just keeping them in for about a year total. That way u get clean scars that mimic real dimples.
[Baylee] Oh, interesting. I didn’t know that.
[Alex] What r u up to today?
[Baylee] I’m hanging out with Lara. At her house. (She’s the tall brown girl in the other photo I posted.)
[Alex] Which means Rianne is the little edgy one.
[Baylee] Correct.
[Alex] That sounds like fun.
[Baylee] What about you? Do you have a best friend?
[Alex] I do. Her name is Pen, and she’s kind of a ballbuster.
[Baylee] So then your best friend is a girl.
[Alex] She is.
“Who are you typing to?” Lara asks. My head is yanked all over the place as she blow-dries chunks of my hair with a large, round brush.
“The Bookworm guy,” I say.
“Can I read what you’re saying?”
“No!”
“Why? Are you guys being gross?”
“You’re so nosy,” I say. “We’re just talking. He’s telling me about his friends right now.”
“Oh, boring.”
[Baylee] That’s super interesting.
[Alex] Is it?
[Baylee] Well, it has the potential to be. Like are you two friends because when the time is right, you’re going to hook up? Or did you used to date and you’re still in each other’s lives, maybe waiting to hook up again? There is a story there. I feel it. 🤔
[Alex] Ha. Well, 1: there is nothing like that between Pen and me. It’s kind of funny to think about, actually. 2: Why does having a girl as a best friend mean there would have to be some kind of romantic or sexual thing between us?
[Baylee] There wouldn’t have to be. It just happens a lot. I know it’s narrow-minded to think girls and guys can’t be friends, but honestly, I just see it play out that way too often to ignore it. My friend Freddie has dated nearly every girl who hangs around us. My friend Lara is almost the same when it comes to guys.
[Alex] . . .
I put my phone down, and heat settles in my cheeks.
“What’s wrong? It’s already over?” Lara asks.
“I said something stupid,” I say.
“You rambled again, didn’t you,” Lara says, shaking her head. “What did you say?” she asks, but I stare at the floor. “Come on, tell me. I can fix it. This is my area of expertise.”
“Is it weird that his best friend is a girl?” I ask. “No, it shouldn’t be weird. That’s just really ignorant of me.”
“A little ignorant, but it makes sense. I think if the best friend is his ex-girlfriend, then it will definitely be weird and it’s a legit concern.”
“Maybe . . .”
Lara stands in front of me, pulling my hair down with the brush while she runs the dryer against it. “I got it! Just tell him the last guy you dated was friends with his ex and you got burned. Blame it on baggage!”
“There is no last guy I dated.”
“Well,” she says, eyeing me through the mirror, “he doesn’t need to know he’s the first guy you’re dating.”
“He’s not going to date me.”
“Why not?” she asks. “Candace has a boyfriend.”
I know Candace, the Other Fat Girl in my class, has a boyfriend. I’ve spent enough time comparing myself to the other fat girls in my school, analyzing how many pounds might make up the difference between them and me, striving to be just a little more put-together, a little more polished than them because I’m always the fattest one.
I personally think I am better-looking than Candace, but she’s the one with the boyfriend. If this was a competition, she already won.
“Is it weird that I don’t have any friends who aren’t . . . thin?” I ask, not really having intended to say this out loud.
“Well, Candace is kind of a bitch, so that’s probably why we’re not friends with her.”
[Baylee] I’m sorry. That sounded super ignorant. I guess this topic is a lot bigger than I thought it would be.
[Alex] R u saying u have automatic romantic or sexual feelings for that Freddie guy?
[Baylee] Not at all. Ew. That’s just wrong.
[Alex] Well, how about Lara, then?
[Baylee] Me and Lara?! Wow. I’ve never even thought of that. That’s definitely the ew-est of all.
[Alex] Exactly. That’s how it is with me and Pen. But I mean, what makes u and Lara not have romantic or sexual tension? Just because ur 2 girls?
[Baylee] No. Because it’s just *so* not like that between us.
A cry of desperation escapes my lips. “I’m making it worse! I am such a stupid loser.”
“What did you say?” Lara puts the dryer down and extends a hand. “Give me. I’ll fix it.”
“No! I’ll fix it. I’ll just be honest.”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t think some rando DM guy is owed such deep honesty, and it might actually make things awkward, but . . . you do you, I guess.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell him your thing,” I say. “You know more about this kind of stuff than I do. Guess I need to learn to play games.”
She makes a face, and I know my comment hit her the way I meant it to. “I’m not saying it’s cool to be shady and a liar,” she says, taking hold of the dryer again, “but when you’re just newly talking to someone—especially someone you don’t know yet—you have to like, be careful how much drama you lay on such a fragile connection, you know?”
I nod, rereading the last few messages between Alex and me, trying to decide how I should approach things.
[Baylee] This is not coming out the way I mean it to. I know it seems like I’m being stupid about gender stuff right now. This conversation just ended up going totally wrong.
[Alex] How were u wanting it to go?
[Baylee] . . .
[Alex] U keep typing then stopping. Just say what u want to say. It’s OK. I’m not scary. ☺
[Baylee] Okay, the truth is . . . I guess I was mostly fishing for information using really stupid stereotypes and ignorant words.
[Alex] U wanted to know if u should be jealous of my best friend?
[Baylee] Um, kind of.
[Alex] I think u and I have some things to discuss.
[Baylee] OK?
[Alex] Go hang out with ur friend. We’ll talk later, OK?
“So?” Lara says. “Did I fix it?”
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s all better now.”
I throw my phone on the counter.
Ten
Downstairs, the weekday-morning routine is in full swing. Mom is fixing her own hair and applying lipstick all while packing Rebecca’s stuff for school, The nurse who takes my sister to school and spends the day there with her is getting Rebecca dressed, who is clearly still asleep. My sister and I are on the same page right now. I am tired, my face hurts, and I have a headache. The idea of a Monday morning at school is making me wish I could just keep on sleeping and ignore everyone.
