“You don’t have to say pug dog,” she says. “It’s not as if there are pug hamsters or something.”
“OMG but imagine if there were!”
I can tell she doesn’t want to laugh.
“Fine. That would be extremely cute.”
“Duh,” I say, though I regret it. It didn’t seem very long ago that I wasn’t afraid to be myself around James. Now it’s like a whole new person is there judging me and no matter how freaking hard I try, I come up short. And I don’t even know how to try with James! I never used to have to try with her at all. I’ll keep trying, though, because the alternative is way too terrible to consider.
Dad’s standing in the kitchen when I walk out of my room on Friday night on my way to a party at a junior’s. I mean, free beers are free beers. I did my best to get James to join us, but I guess I’m not that surprised she wasn’t interested. Hopefully I at least seem like a caring friend who won’t ever screw up again.
“Do you have a date?” I ask him, because he’s wearing a shirt I think is new, and he smells like aftershave.
“Diane’s friends are having some thing,” he says. “I’ll have to make conversation with a bunch of people in the South Bay.”
“OMG, be nice, Dad,” I say, because Dad’s often said he doesn’t understand why anyone would live so close to the ocean.
“I’ll do what I can,” he says. “You going out with Quinn?”
“Well, we’re going to a party. It’s always, like, the same people, but hopefully it won’t suck. If it does, we’ll just go get tacos or something.”
“Always a good backup plan.” He pats my shoulder. “Be safe. Don’t drink and drive.”
“We’re just walking,” I say. “We’ll be careful. Haven’t you noticed that Quinn’s, like, a very smart and careful person?”
“She’s a lot better than that joker you went out with before,” he says. “That’s for sure.”
“Dad, can’t you like her not just in comparison to Matty?”
The doorbell rings, and Dad gets it. “Come on in, Quinn.”
She walks in and grins at me. Her hair looks extra tall and swoopy, and she’s wearing a black leather jacket over her flannel, like an old-timey heartthrob. I clench my hands into tiny fists so that I don’t accidentally start running my fingers through her hair in front of my dad.
“Have fun, girls,” Dad says. “Quinn, you’re careful when you’re out with my daughter, right?”
“Dad.”
“Yes, sir, of course,” Quinn says, like my dad’s not being weird when he super clearly is.
I grab her hand and say good night to Dad before dragging Quinn outside. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She leans in and kisses me, slow and hot and intense. She can just do that, out of nowhere. My breath feels gone.
“My dad’s about to leave.” I slip my hands around her waist, under her jacket, over her warm soft flannel. “We could sneak back in.”
“Is it really sneaking if you have a key?” she asks me, but I know that it’s a yes. We hide out around the back and wait until Dad’s Subaru leaves the driveway, turns left on Clark, and disappears into the night. Of course, I have a key and this is my freaking home, but I feel myself heating up over the idea of sneaking in with Quinn. It’s like we’re getting away with something, when in truth I always feel like we are. How can it (mostly) be so (mostly) perfect?
It’s a rush to get to my room, to manage to not pull each other’s clothes off before they can be safely discarded on my bedroom floor. But then it’s slow, as Quinn holds me and practically dares me with just a look to take my time. And I know I seriously just yelled at Dad for comparing her to Matty, but considering that I’ve only had sex with two people, sometimes it’s impossible for me not to. And it was good with Matty, like, good.
I didn’t know how incredible it could feel to just be seen though.
(It’s pretty incredible to have someone’s lips and fingertips all over you, too, of course.)
This is the first time we haven’t had to hurry off immediately—I could barely care less about some junior’s party, and if we hadn’t told Gretchen and Raina we’d be there, I wouldn’t worry about it at all—and so I stay under my covers with Quinn, our clothes still all piled on my floor.
“Did you have sex with that math camp girl?” I ask Quinn.
“It was coding camp,” she says. “And, no. Why are you just asking me now?”
“I dunno. I guess I didn’t care if you had, I was just curious. I’m curious about, like, every single thing about you.”
Sometimes Quinn makes a face like I unexpectedly shot her with a confetti cannon and even though it’s pretty and fun it’s way too much all at once. Like right now.
“Am I overdoing something or—”
“No,” she says quickly. “I like that you say everything.”
I wonder what she’d think if she knew how much I don’t say. I mean, I say all the Quinn things. I just keep plenty more to myself.
“Do you think we’re too serious or something?” I ask, and then it’s a regretted question because it makes us sound like an illness, and also, what if she says yes?
“No,” she says, quickly again. “We just don’t know what’s going to happen next year. And you think I’m your experienced hero, when in reality I may be a college reject who up until last summer was too nervous to make it under a girl’s shirt.”
“You are my experienced hero,” I say.
“Kat,” she says, but I hear her tone shift, and then I put my knowledge of her most ticklish spots to good use.
We eventually walk over to the party and find a group of our friends in the backyard, sipping out of red Solo cups. I think I still just want to be alone with Quinn, but I also like being in a group with her, feeling how much bigger my life seems now that she’s a part of it.
And I’m sure that all the parts that maybe are still somehow unsteady will right themselves perfectly once we know about Oberlin and can start thinking for real about next year.
Sofia and Mariana find me and pull me away, though, to another spot in the yard, and even though Matty isn’t there, it sort of feels like last year in this moment. I still like everyone in this circle, of course, but it’s sort of funny how I don’t necessarily miss how things were then, when they were my daily group. Mariana’s so funny and Sofia’s pure sweetness, but it’s like I can already see all our separate paths after high school.
“Did you hear Matty’s hooking up with Ashby Grant?” Mariana asks.
“Mar!” Sofia grabs my arm. “I’m sorry if that’s how you had to find out.”
“It’s super fine,” I say, for real. “It would be the grossest if he was still, like, hung up on me.”
“I’m pretty sure he still is,” Mariana says. “Sorry to be the bearer of the grossest news.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. It’s been months and it was his fault anyway. He can pine away for me until we’re all old and withered.”