Ship It(60)

“I can’t wait,” I say, like a dolt.

“Now get outta here and let me piss in peace, huh?”

“Of course!” And I’m out of there like a shot.

It’s all finally happening.


AFTER MOM AND I shared room-service lunch, she wanted to check out the convention, but I wanted to stay in my room until the panel, checking replies to my post on Tumblr. After some harassment about getting out and meeting people, she finally left me alone. I should have had the rest of the afternoon to plot, but instead, I’m staring at two texts from Tess, debating what to do.

Can we talk? I’m in the food court.

I have fries.

I’d rather not. I need to focus on my work, and Tess is one giant, curly-haired, dress-wearing, queer homoromantic pansexual distraction.

Is she going to consider this another date? If I go eat fries with her, will she tell Forest we’re engaged now? Will she drag me back into her chamber of confusion and questions I don’t have the time or power to answer right now?

Is she going to ask me to decide what I am?

I keep thinking about last night. When we were kissing.

I still want to kiss her again.

I don’t know why.

So I go.

She’s wearing her hair in a scarf. I love it, because it means you can see her whole neck all the way around. I never really thought about necks before, but now, seeing hers, I realize how nice they are. This perfect curve from ear to shoulder. Whoever designed necks should get an award.

The food court is located in the back corner of the convention floor, and it’s full of lively con-goers sitting down for hot dogs and Diet Cokes and nachos and other terrible, overpriced food of the kind that you’d find at a high school football concession stand. Tess has saved a table for us, a basket of fries in front of her, sipping on a straw that’s sticking out of a can of Sprite. I’ve never seen anyone drink a can of pop with a straw before.

She sees me coming toward her, and I swear, it’s like her whole body lights up. “You came!” she says, and slides the fries toward me as I sit down, as though the fries were the big selling point for me, instead of her. Instead of that expression she just made. She has blue paint specks on her face like she just came from Mom’s art studio.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi!”

“Why do you have blue paint on you?”

“Oh!” She wipes at her face with her sleeve, suddenly a little embarrassed. “They’re doing this thing where you get to screen-print your own T-shirts, and I had a bit of a disaster with the paint.” She shrugs. “It’s a cool booth, though. It’s over near Artists’ Alley. You should check it out.”

I nod like I will, but I don’t say anything, and then she doesn’t say anything. We both eat a few fries. I’m starting to wonder why I came. I need to confront her about what she said.

“Tess…” I say at the same time that she says, “Claire…” and we both stop and then laugh, and then she says, “You go.” But I don’t want to go first because it’s awkward to start off a conversation with an accusation, so I say, “No, you go.”

“I keep going over and over that conversation we had with Forest,” she says. “And you have to be honest with me, was I being an idiot?” She fiddles nervously with the cat necklace she’s wearing. “Because I do that, I get going talking about something I care about and it’s hard to stop. But I feel like I kind of… went too far for him.” She pauses to meet my eye. “And for you, maybe, too.”

I pull the fries closer to me and eat another one. They’re getting cold and mealy. I can feel her watching me.

“Forget Forest for a minute, can we just talk about us?” I say.

“Okay.”

“You told him…” I start, but I can’t figure out how to finish without looking petty, or like a scaredy cat.

“What?”

“Tess, you told Forest that we were dating,” I say, finally. And I hate that this bothers me, but it does.

“Did I?” she says, straightening up and frowning. “I said we went on a date.”

“Yeah.”

“But we did!” Tess exclaims, and I wish she’d keep her voice down.

“We had dinner, that’s all. You specifically said it wasn’t a date when you asked me.”

“That was before we made out on your bed for, like, the rest of the night…” Tess says slowly, as though that clears everything up, which it definitely does not. It only makes everything more confusing.

I can’t argue with what she’s saying, I just know that I’m uncomfortable. And it would be easy to back down and agree with her and say it’s not a big deal. But it is a big deal.

“I just… wish you hadn’t talked about it with him before we agreed what to say.”

She lets out a breath. “Okay,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

I look at her a moment, and she seems to really mean it. So I guess that means I’m supposed to just forgive her and we’re back to normal, but I don’t feel back to normal. I feel like my world is slowly turning upside down and I’m barely holding on.

“I… really liked hanging out with you last night,” she says. “I want to do it again.”