Ask the Passengers

“Which is why you should tell her,” Justin says.

“Because something is up, and we know it,” Kristina says.

Oh, God. I feel like this is the worst time ever to tell her anything. She’s been mad all week about it, and she doesn’t even know what it is yet.

She turns around in the passenger seat, and she looks at me. I look at her. She isn’t smiling. “Dude. What the hell? You know everything about me! You’re my best friend,” she says. “Aren’t you?”

I’m speechless, which makes me look more like something is up.

“Seriously. What the hell is up?”

“I—I can’t tell you.”

She gets concerned. “Are you okay? Did something bad happen?”

“God no. I’m just—oh, God. I don’t know. I’m—kinda seeing someone. So this whole Jeff thing isn’t going to work out.”

She tilts her head. The look on her face is a mix of girlish excitement and some sort of pain. “Who is it? That guy from your humanities class? What’s his name? Kyle? Ken?”

“Holy shit, no. Clay? Blerg. No. Not a guy. I mean—”

“Not a guy?” she says. “Not a guy.” She stops and looks more pained than excited. “Not a guy?”

“I don’t know,” I say. It’s only hitting me now how hurt she’s going to be about my keeping this a secret.

“Dude—you don’t know who you’re going out with?” She hits me nicely on my arm. “Oh, my God, Astrid! Just tell us!”

“I don’t know. I’m still not even sure, I don’t think. I mean, how do I know?”

“It’s not a guy?”

I shake my head.

Justin hoots. “Dude! You’re one of us!”

I keep shaking my head, and I add a shrug, but I’d be lying if I told you that his excitement and invitation into one of them isn’t making me cringe. Because I’m not in this to be a member of some club. I’m not going through this so I can lock myself in the one of them box.

“So, you’re questioning?” she says.

“I guess.”

“If she has a girlfriend, she’s not questioning,” Justin says.

“Shut up,” Kristina says. Then she turns back to me. “That’s completely normal. Especially with me and Justin around. Seriously. Totally normal.”

That’s not what they’d say.

They’d say: I think she likes girls.

They’d say: I bet one night with me would make her change her mind.

“So who is it?” I am so not ready to tell her this and I am so afraid she will be pissed if I don’t. But I can’t. She sees my pain and says, “No rush. These things take time.”

Kristina is three beers into her night, and she says, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, dude.”

I feel guilty and make a face to show it.

“Were you scared?” Justin asks.

Chad says, “I remember being scared.” This makes me smile at him.

I pretend I want to dance to escape the conversation, but Kristina comes with me. Donna joins her and the two of them get all touchy-feely with each other and it makes me uncomfortable, so I dance my way over to the corner and then stand off to the edge and try not to watch them.

When Kristina sees I’ve escaped, she dances toward me, Donna right behind her.

“Why don’t you call your girlfriend?” Kristina yells. The music is really loud.

“Nah,” I say.

“Why not?”

“Just because,” I say. God. Life was a lot simpler a few hours ago when she thought I was just an asexual sea sponge.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Kristina says in her nervous three-beers-in babbling. For all her pushy, ponytailed U. Valley girl confidence, she sure does have weak spots. “Why you won’t call her?” she says, pointing to her chest.

“You’re drunk.”

“No. Think about it, Astrid.”

She’s right. It’s her. How can I be myself around Dee and Kristina in the same room? I’m not ready for that yet. I only just told Kristina tonight.

I say, “What happened to ‘these things take time’?”

She stops at that and nods. “Yeah, but you should tell me who it is.”

“I’ll tell you later. It’s not the right time or place.”

“Is she from school? Do I know her?”

I give her an annoyed look.

“Come on. Just a hint,” she says. I look at her again and roll my eyes. “Okay, I’ll just guess then. Is it Briana? Lisa? That chick who homeschools but plays in the band—what’s her name? Kelly something?”

I c**k my head and look even more annoyed than I looked a minute ago.

“It’s a hockey player, isn’t it? That’s why you went to a few of Ellis’s hockey games this year,” she says. I stay poker-faced. “Is it Kira? Kelly? Michelle?” Multiple choice. Hmm. Maybe it’s not the worst way for this to come out. Not something Frank S. would be proud of me for, but it could work. “Am I getting warmer? Colder?” she asks.

“No,” is all I say. “All you’re getting is annoying.”

“Colder. I can read your mind. If it’s not one of our hockey players, then maybe…”

My face twitches. Darn it.

“Another school. Yes. How about—Dee Roberts?”

Shit. I try to give her a shut-the-hell-up look.

“Oh, my God! It’s Dee Roberts, isn’t it?”

I say nothing and try to keep looking annoyed.

“It is! Hah! No way!”

“Stop. Let me just tell you when I’m ready.”

“You don’t need to tell me. I already know. I totally should have figured that out. You’ve been working together for months. I’m slipping.”

I sigh.

“Oh, come on. It’s not a big deal that I know. Dee’s been out for years anyway. It’s not like you just outed her or anything.”

“I didn’t tell you it was Dee Roberts.”

“Yes, but you didn’t not tell me it was her, either,” she says. “You should call her and tell her to get her ass out here,” she says.

“Why? So you can gloat about how you guessed?”

“I don’t gloat.”

“Anyway, you’d have never known if I didn’t tell you in the first place. You’d think I was still an androgynous bookworm.”