Leah on the Offbeat(47)



“Sorry,” she says quietly, eyes sliding shut. “I—I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well.” I shrug. Like it’s whatever. Like I could care less.

Except suddenly, I’m so angry, I’m shaking. “God, Abby, how dense are you? Seriously? I draw a picture where we’re practically on top of each other, and it didn’t occur to you that maybe, just maybe, I might actually like you?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t—”

“And then you’re like, oh, I have a secret, I’m so nervous. How was I supposed to interpret that? But it’s not like it matters, because ta-da! Here’s Nick. And now you’re flirting with him. And now you’re dating him. And then the minute you’re single, there you are, hardcore flirting with me again. But of course, it doesn’t mean anything, because you’re so fucking hetero. And then you kiss me?” My voice breaks. “That was my first kiss, Abby.”

Her face crumples. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t even care. Just don’t fuck with my head. Please.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Then why did you just kiss me?”

“Because I wanted to,” she says. “And I wanted to at Morgan’s house.”

My lungs empty out in a single fierce whoosh. “What?”

“That’s the secret. That’s it. I wanted to kiss you, but I was scared.” Her voice catches. “And I tried to tell you a million times, but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Leah, you’re terrifying. God. Half the time, I think you hate me.”

I mean, I can’t even look at her. It’s like I’ve been put on lockdown.

Abby’s close to tears. “I just feel so—I don’t know what to do. My cousin Cassie was just talking about how shitty and selfish it is for straight girls to flirt with lesbians because they’re curious or bored—”

“Or because they just broke up with their boyfriends.”

“Or that.” Abby winces. “But I thought you were straight. I swear to God.”

“So you kissed me? That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I thought we were two straight girls experimenting.”

My heart twists. “Well, we’re not.”

“I know.” She sniffs. “I’m so sorry. I just. I don’t want to be this straight girl using you. But then it’s like, maybe I’m not actually straight. I don’t know. I’ve had crushes before, but I’ve never . . .”

“Crushes on girls?”

Abby shrugs.

“So what, now you think you’re bi?”

“You make me think about it.”

My heart skids to a stop.

Abby covers her face with both hands. “I don’t know. It’s just.” She takes a deep breath. “You want to hear about my crushes? You want to know why I kept in touch with Caitlin?”

My heart sinks. “Not really.”

“Leah, it’s not—God. She’s straight, okay? I had a boyfriend, and she has a boyfriend, and she’s straight, and I’m fucking this up. I’m just.” She exhales. “I don’t like Caitlin, okay? I barely know her.”

“Whatever. She’s pretty.”

“So are you,” Abby whispers. I can’t help but sneak a glance at her. She’s hugging her knees, eyelashes thick with tears. “And I want to be friends. Or something. I don’t know. I just hate this.”

She swipes her fingers across her eyes, and my brain just unravels. I can’t deal with this girl. I can’t.

She makes me want to shove my hand into my chest and rip my own heart out.

Abby spends half the night trying to talk me out of sleeping on the couch. “I already feel like a jerk,” she says. “Seriously, take the bed.”

“Oh my God.” I drag a pillow and blanket out to the living room. “It’s fine, okay? Just stop.”

“I’m going to sleep in the chair.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s your choice.”

And I guess we’re both that stubborn, because the bed stays empty all night. I wake up to find Abby in Caitlin’s IKEA chair, head tilted slightly sideways, like she’s sleeping on a plane. For a moment, I just watch her. Maybe that makes me a creepy little vampire, but I can’t help it.

She’s hugging a pillow, her hands clasped against it, and it rises and falls with her chest. Her lips are softly parted. I have this sudden mental image of her as a kid, which gives me this tug in my gut that I can’t quite explain. It’s not attraction, because obviously I’m not attracted to kids. It’s more like wistfulness. Just this weird little wish that I could have known her then.

She wakes up pretty soon after that, and we pack our stuff in silence. I can barely breathe, I feel so tense and awkward. I have this feeling that my skin would crackle if you touched it. I don’t know how we’ll survive the trip home.

Caitlin comes over around ten to get her key and say good-bye, and when I look at her, all I can think about is what Abby said last night. You want to know why I kept in touch with Caitlin?

But I can’t be jealous of Caitlin. I’m not that big of an asshole. This girl gave me an apartment and a parking pass and possibly a new band.

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