First Girl Gone(23)

Shaking her head, Charlie fiddled with the corner of her cocktail napkin, folding it back on itself.

“Sorry. Does that make me a terrible friend?”

“No.” Zoe laughed. “I just figured you would have heard by now.”

“From who?”

“I don’t know. You hear things.”

“I don’t talk to anyone from here.”

Zoe waved her hand around, nearly knocking over her bottle, but caught it before any liquid spilled.

“Yeah, but Facebook…”

“Oh, I don’t use Facebook.”

“How is that possible?”

“OK, I use it plenty for work. You wouldn’t believe the sensitive-slash-scandalous info I can dig up on social media.” Charlie took a drink and wiped the corner of her mouth. “Probably why I don’t use it personally. I know how very available that information is, and how easy it is to think you’re only sharing with friends.”

“You sound paranoid.”

Charlie quirked one shoulder upward.

“It’s like my uncle Frank says: a little bit of paranoia goes a long way.”

Zoe’s head tipped to one side as she peered over at Charlie. “Hey, how is your uncle, anyway?”

“Good,” Charlie said, because that’s what people wanted to hear. “You know him. He’s not going down without a fight.”

“Cancer’s about to get its head kicked in.” Zoe lifted her bottle high. “To your uncle. A tough old S.O.B. if ever there was one.”

They toasted to Uncle Frank, and Charlie finished off her beer with one long pull.

After a moment she said, “It makes sense though.”

“What does?”

“You being gay.” She had a fresh bottle now, and rivulets of condensation ran down the glass. She poked at a particularly fat droplet. “That explains why you were the only girl in school who didn’t think Chase Russell was hot.”

“Ugh. No.” Zoe made a face like she’d just eaten something bitter. “I didn’t think Chase was hot because he looks like a lizard.”

Charlie laughed, nearly choking on her beer.

Zoe gave her a few firm wallops on the back.

“Don’t die on me, Winters.”

It was a few seconds before Charlie was able to speak or even take a normal breath again.

“Was it hard?”

“Thinking Chase Russell looked like a lizard person?” Zoe asked, then shrugged. “I struggled with it sometimes. Tried to find meaning in an increasingly reptilian world.”

Charlie shook her head, chuckling. “No, I mean being gay in a town like Salem Island. I mean, maybe now things are a bit more progressive, but back then? At the very least, I imagine it would have been shitty to feel like you had to keep that a secret from everyone.”

“Well, not everyone.”

“You told people? Back then?” Charlie asked, and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Like maybe Zoe hadn’t trusted Charlie enough to tell her. Which was silly, because not only was it ancient history, it also wasn’t Charlie’s right to know.

“I told one person. And that’s why—” Zoe stopped herself, seeming to change her mind about whatever she was going to say. “Never mind.”

Charlie’s curiosity was piqued. She stared hard at her friend, and a moment of silence stretched out between them before Zoe crumbled.

“Allie knew.”

“Allie?” Charlie repeated.

Whatever she’d been expecting Zoe to say, that hadn’t been it. Zoe had always been more Charlie’s friend than Allie’s, though her twin always had a way of charming Charlie’s friends.

“I…” Zoe paused again, her cheeks flushing. “Jesus, this is so embarrassing. We were at a party once—I think it was at Cassie Whindon’s. We were both drunk. And for some reason I thought it would be a good time to tell Allie that I had a crush on her.”

“Oh,” Charlie said, suddenly understanding why Zoe had been so reluctant to talk about it. “What did she say?”

“In the moment she was totally cool about it. But when I woke up the next morning and remembered it all, I couldn’t believe what I’d done. I was sure she’d tell someone, and then it would be out there for everyone to know. I was so terrified I stayed home sick from school for the next two days.”

Charlie tried to imagine how much dread Zoe must have felt in that moment. She didn’t know what to say, so she put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Eventually my mom figured out I wasn’t really sick and made me go back to school. And even though no one said anything, for at least a week I was still convinced everyone knew. I overanalyzed every look. Every word.” She blinked and a sad smile spread over her lips. “When you’re young you just assume that everyone is secretly judging you. Like you’re constantly on everyone’s mind, and they’re just desperate to find your flaws. Truth is closer to the opposite. No one is paying attention. They’re too busy thinking the world is watching them.”

It was true, Charlie thought. She remembered a bad haircut in eighth grade, thinking everyone would notice and laugh and judge. But no one said a thing about it.