A Not So Meet Cute(136)

Can we cue up a slow clap for the rum concoction? Because, well done on the mindfuckery.

Well fucking done.

Boss-level mindfuckery.

Bringing a parent to an island in the middle of the ocean, changing his personality completely, and then attaching him to the girl—two years my senior—who used to torture me all throughout volleyball practice. Not just attaching, but marrying him.

Ha.

Oh, good one.

This is really freaking good.

“Why are you slow clapping?” Cora asks me.

I look down at my hands—they’re moving without my knowledge. I shake my head. “Can’t tell you, but I do think I’m having some sort of weird episode.” I clear my throat. “I think there was something in the Mai Tais that’s making me delusional.” I swallow, my saliva feeling like a boulder trying to squeeze down my throat. Clutching the back of my neck, I say, “You see, I thought I saw my dad in Hawaii and engaged to a girl two years older than me.”

“She’s two years older than you?” Surprised, Cora looks past me and asks, “What’s your skincare routine? Your skin is flawless.”

“Aw, thank you,” Ashley says, making me nearly jump out of my flip-flops. “But this is just me, nothing special. I just seem to be lucky.” She pushes my shoulder again. “But I do recall someone having a tremendous amount of acne in high school. Looks as though you’re all cleared up now, Stella. Good for you.”

Still uneasy, I face the sight in front of me, my dad looking jolly—yes, freaking jolly—holding Ashley Broome’s hand, her bosom high and large and in your face, a pink sarong wrapped around her stomach making her look like Hawaii Barbie.

This is real.

This is actually real and happening.

My dad is engaged to Ashley Broome, an absolute witch.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Ashley says to Cora.

Waving, Cora says, “I’m Coraline, but everyone except my brother calls me Cora. Arlo never took to the nickname.”

“Cora, nice to meet you. Are you Stella’s partner?”

“Partner?” Cora asks. “Ohhh, like her lover?” Cora starts giggling like a moron.

“No, she’s not,” I say.

“Oh, sorry. She just seemed like your type,” Ashley says offhandedly.

My dad clears his throat. “I wasn’t aware that you like women. Is this a new development?”

“What? No,” I nearly shout.

“We always thought she was into girls,” Ashley says.

“Who’s we?” I ask.

What is happening right now? Why is my sexual orientation a point of topic? And why is Ashley bringing it up? Not that it would be a bad thing to be gay. I envy lesbians at times, not having to deal with the disgusting intricacies of the male population. Is it too much to ask to wash your hands after you go to the bathroom? You touch your private parts to pee, therefore WASH YOUR HANDS. The amount of times I’ve seen male teachers come out of the teachers’ lounge bathroom with dry hands is— “Kristin, Tiffany, and Madison,” Ashley answers, interrupting my thoughts. “We actually thought you and McKenna were a secret couple.”

“No.” I shake my head. “She was my best friend.”

“McKenna would spend the night often at our house,” Dad says, a raise to his brow.

“Because she was my best friend.”

“You’d giggle in the back of the bus on school trips.”

“Because she was my FRIEND!” I shout, drawing attention from the shop attendant.

“Well, it doesn’t matter.” Ashley waves me off. “I was just confused because your dad was telling me you’ve never been in a relationship, so I figured you were just hiding yourself.” Ashley touches me again on the arm and I swear if she does it again, I’ll— “It’s okay to be open with me. I’m going to be a big part of your life. I’m quite maternal. If you want to come out to me—”

“I have a boyfriend,” I shout, surprising Cora and myself.

“What? Since when?” Cora asks, taking a step back to look me up and down.

Christ, if only she could read a room.

Jaw clenched, I say, “Uh, we’ve been keeping it secret.”

“Oh my God, who is it?” Cora asks, completely oblivious.

I try to communicate to her without talking but we’re both too wasted to have any sort of mindreading communication translated so I say, “Uh, he’s, uh . . .” Think. Think, Stella. Who’s your boyfriend?

Chris Pine.

Chris Evans.

Chris Hemsworth.

No, no, no. Why is Chris in my head right now?

Think of a name.

Any name.

A man’s name . . .

“Romeo,” I say before I can stop myself.

Oh no.

“Shut . . . UP,” Cora shouts. “God, I knew it. I freaking knew it. I told Greer the other day you two were totally together and putting on a front.” She parades around the small space in the back of the store, fist-pumping the air with certainty. “I can’t wait to tell Greer and shove it in her face. This is fantastic. And he’s here, in Maui. Oh my God, are you two sneaking off to be with each other?”

“Uh, no, it’s not—”