Dirty Girl

by Chelsea M. Cameron

“No way. I was too busy trying to force myself to like boys. There wasn’t room for anything like that. And she was so untouchable in high school. She was in a totally different group.” I was still reeling a little bit from what she’d said about feeling like an outsider. From all appearances, her life had been charmed and perfect.

  “Lots of people change from who they were in high school, Blake. And as you said yourself, you were playing a part too.” Yeah, I had been, even if I didn’t know it at the time. Quinn and I had both been playing roles back then.

  “I’m just confused about the whole thing. And I keep telling myself that I shouldn’t want to see her again. That I should still be mad about the situation. I should have thrown my drink in her face or something. At least not completely caved the second she opened her mouth.” Couldn’t go back now.

  “I don’t know. At first I didn’t want you to go at all. I thought she was just using you to make herself feel better. But, from what you’ve told me, that wasn’t what she wanted at all. And it sounds like you had a connection with her. One of those connections that doesn’t come around very often.” That was putting it mildly, at least on my side. There was something about Quinn that had jolted me to the core. Something about her that had knocked me completely out of my usual orbit.

  “I honestly don’t know, L. This shit is too much right now.” I rubbed my face with my hand. Crushing despair about the state of my employment descended on me again. Great.

  “You don’t have to do anything about it right now, Blake. It sounds like she’s going to be around, if and when you’re ready.” I didn’t think I would ever be ready for Quinn.

  TWO DAYS LATER, I WAS still filling out job applications. So far I’d gotten three rejections based on the fact that I wasn’t qualified to do much. I was kicking myself for not finishing college. That had really bit me in the ass. And hey, I still had to pay back my loans! Such fun.

  I would have looked for a more entry-level position, but I couldn’t pay my rent and buy groceries with that, unless I wanted to give up my apartment and get a bunch of roommates, which was probably what was going to happen anyway. I’d known that was inevitable for a long time. Lizzie had offered to let me move in with her, multiple times, and I’d always said no. I guess I didn’t want to have my friends bail me out. Again. They did that enough as it was.

  Going back and living with my parents also wasn’t an option at all. They weren’t wealthy people and barely got by as it was. Plus, we didn’t particularly get along. I loved the city and wanted to do whatever I could to stay here, even if it meant throwing myself at the mercy of my friends and begging for help.

  “Listen, you can always come and stay with me,” Lizzie had said. “And Bonbon, too.” That was an important consideration. I wasn’t going to leave Bonbon, no matter what. He was family.

  I looked around at my shitty furniture that I had barely been able to afford, and realized that I was going to have to get rid of a lot of it if I was going to move in with someone else. I spent the rest of that afternoon trying to take nice pictures of my shit and figuring out how much I could get for my crap online. Not much, but at least it would help a little.

  LIZZIE DROPPED BY TO force me to come out with her the following Friday to see the rest of our friends. They also wanted the full details of the thing with Quinn.

  “Come on, put something nice on and come out. We’re getting wings and beer,” she said and I caved. Food was pretty much the way to my heart.

  “There’s our unemployed girl,” Carson said, holding his arms open for a hug. He was so much taller than me that I felt like I was being completely enveloped. Carson gave good hugs.

  “I’m liking the eyeliner,” I said as I pulled back.

  “Yeah? I think I’m getting good at it.” He fluttered his eyelashes and I laughed. The rest of the gang gave me hugs as well. Honestly, I had needed them sooner than this and I had cut myself off to wallow alone. I’d been in a shitty place and didn’t want their pity. Guess I was desperate for any kind of support at this point.

  Sammi shoved a glass of beer at me. They’d gotten a pitcher and had put in an order of pizza and wings. Bless them.

  “You can always come and work with me,” they said. I made a face. They worked as a phlebotomist.

  “Didn’t you have to go to school for that?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but it takes less than a year.” I shook my head.

  “I hate blood.”

  Other suggestions flew at me. Most of them involved either more schooling (which would lead to more loans) or things that wouldn’t pay enough, or weren’t reliable.

  “Face it, I’m unemployable. I’m a broken cog in the capitalist machine.” I rested my forehead on the sticky table. The beer was already starting to make me feel drowsy and silly.

  “Aw, Blake. You’ll find something. We can always sit down and do one of those career tests. Or you can sign up with a temp agency,” Lolly suggested. She was the most quiet of all my friends, but when she spoke, she always had something good or profound or helpful to say. She peered at me from under her dark blunt-cut bangs. Once upon a time, we had thought about dating, but quickly realized we were oil and water, but we could make it work as a friendship.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said. Carson cleared his throat and pointed at me.

  “Enough about the job, we want to hear about the girl. Spill.” All of their eyes focused on me and I was the complete center of attention. I didn’t like it and rolled my eyes. Typical.

  “Ugh, fine.” I told them the story about Quinn and Spencer and the kiss and the grudge and then bumping into her and the confusing and unsettling dinner we’d had.

  “So she likes girls. And you like girls. And you like her,” Sammi said. My face was hot and red, and not just from the alcohol.

  “I mean, yes, all of things might be true. I don’t exactly know if I like her. I know that I think she’s hot, but anyone would.” I’d never seen someone fill out a suit so well.

  “But you felt the thing?” Lolly said, her eyes wide under her bangs. I wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about.

  “Uh, what’s the thing?”

  “You know, the thing. That... chemistry. That heat. That attraction to another person,” Carson elaborated.

  “Oh, that thing.” With this group, you didn’t really know if they were talking about something dirty or not.

  “What other thing did you think we were talking about?” Maddie said. She had a wing in one hand and a beer in the other and was alternating between the two and currently had sauce all over her chin. I handed her a napkin and gave her a look.

  “Ohhhhhh,” she said as she wiped her chin. “Sorry, my mind isn’t as dirty as all of yours.”

  “In spite of our best efforts,” Lizzie said, grabbing a wing. If I didn’t hurry, those wings were going to be gone.

  “So, did you feel the non-dirty thing?” Carson asked.

  “I guess? I mean, are you talking about that breathless OMG-what-is-happening-I-can’t-feel-my-hands-or-my-tongue-thing?” I said. They all nodded.

  I didn’t want to admit that I had. I had felt so much more than that, just from a few hours interaction with her. I hadn’t been so taken with someone in a long damn time. I honestly thought I’d forgotten how to feel that way.

  “I love that feeling,” Lizzie said with a dreamy sigh. “That’s why I seek it out whenever possible.” I snorted. Lizzie loved dating, and she was really good at it. Most of her breakups had been so mutual that they’d laughed and hugged at the end and there were no hard feelings. I didn’t know how she did it. Dating had pretty much been a disaster for me from the beginning. Even when I started dating girls and people of other genders that I was actually attracted to, I still seemed to mess everything up.

  Maybe that was my lot in life.

  “So, are you going to see her again?” Maddie asked.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’m kind of busy with the whole job thing. I don’t hav
e time for that. And I don’t even know if she’d want to go out with me. That hadn’t been what she was talking about. I think, if anything, she wants to be friends.”

  “But maybe she wants to date you and didn’t want to scare you with her intentions?” Carson said.

  “Ugh, can we talk about someone else?” I said as I reached for the last wing.

  “Me, can we talk about me?” Lizzie said and that shifted the attention off me and onto her, which was how both of us liked it.

  I sat back and listened as my friends joked and laughed and let me just be. I wasn’t required to participate, or be as loud as they were, or to outdo them. I could just be me and they liked me the way I was. I didn’t have to compete.

  I drank some more beer and let myself get silly and sloppy. I wasn’t driving, so I figured I could. Things had been a hot stinky mess this week. And I was still all twisted up about Quinn.

  In spite of my best efforts, she was never far from my mind, even when I got home after hanging out with my friends. I had maybe had one too many beers and wasn’t walking the straightest, but when did I ever?

  I collapsed on the couch and pulled out my phone. My fingers were clumsy, but I typed out a message and autocorrect somehow made it coherent.

  I hit send and then promptly fell asleep.

  Six

  The next thing I knew, my head was pounding, the sun was shining on me, and I was on my couch.

  “Oh godddddd,” I said, slowly getting up. I felt like complete shit. My mouth tasted horrible and my stomach was threatening to turn itself inside out. Bonbon looked at me with concern in his beady eyes.

  Slowly, I managed to get to my feet and go to the bathroom. I got water and aspirin into me, fighting off waves of nausea as I swallowed. I hoped I could keep it down. Next I went to the kitchen and put a frozen breakfast sandwich in the microwave. Even the small movements were agony. I never did well with beer. It gave me the nastiest hangovers. So did wine.

  I made it back to the couch with the sandwich wrapped in a paper towel.

  “Don’t judge me,” I told Bonbon as I tentatively took a bite of the sandwich. My phone lit up with a message.

  It hurt to focus, but I nearly fell onto the floor when I saw that it was a message from Quinn.

  Are you okay?

  Shit. I scrolled back through to see what the hell I had sent her.

  Will you gopher wit mean?

  Oh. Awesome. Autocorrect had not helped me as much as I thought it had.

  I cringed at myself and sent her back a response after thinking about deleting her number or texting back who is this?

  Sorry. I was a little drunk last night. Never mind.

  I set the phone down and finished my sandwich. Time for another glass of water and then I’d hopefully be on the mend. I also made sure Bonbon had fresh water and was fed. I needed to clean his litter box too, but that could wait until my stomach stopped threatening to expel everything I’d just put in it.

  Were you asking to go out with me?

  I groaned and wanted to throw my phone across the room. Why had I texted her? Whyyyyyyy.

  I mean, I guess I had at the time. Not that I didn’t want to go out with her. Why was my life so terrible right now?

  No.

  I lied. I lied and hoped that she believed it.

  Are you sure about that?

  She was teasing me and I was not up to dealing with it.

  I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to message you. Forget about it.

  I was going to try to.

  I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about you.

  That was when I slid off the couch and onto the floor.

  I really want to see you again, Blake.

  A wailing sound came out of my mouth and Bonbon looked deeply concerned.

  Things would have been fine if I hadn’t gotten drunk and texted her. Learn from my mistakes, kids.

  I sat there staring at my phone and wondered how the hell I was going to answer her. I had three options: text her back and tell her that I did want to see her again, text her back and tell her I didn’t want to see her, OR, blow up my phone, change my number, and leave the country.

  I was really leaning toward the third option, but my fingers had other ideas.

  I want to see you too.

  Excuse me, fingers? What were they doing?

  My thumb hit the send button and it was done. I’d picked an option. Though the third wasn’t completely off the table. Fleeing the country sounded pretty great right about now.

  My heart thumped as I waited for a response.

  Can I see you tonight? Or today?

  Today was definitely not going to work. I looked and felt like a hundred miles of shitty road and definitely needed to clean and get some other things done.

  Tonight?

  My stomach would probably be calmed down by then and my head wouldn’t be splitting. Hopefully.

  What did you have in mind?

  I didn’t want to make plans. I just wanted her to tell me where to be and when. I’d had to make so many other decisions lately and I wanted to be along for the ride for once. I didn’t want to be in charge. As if she’d read my mind, Quinn responded.

  Dinner? A walk?

  How sweet. That sounded lowkey and perfect.

  When and where. I’ll be there.

  She suggested the Arboretum and I told her I’d meet her at one of the entrances. I’d never been on a walk date before, so I had to find the perfect outfit. I had to look cute, but I also had to be comfortable. That was going to require some work choosing what to wear.

  Bonbon put his paws on the edge of his pen and stared deep into my soul.

  “Yes, I know I need to clean your litter. Stop judging me. I’m hungover.” Bonbon’s ears twitched, but he didn’t relent.

  “Okay, fine.” I rolled slowly to my feet and started my Saturday chores while I prayed I wasn’t going to hurl before I got everything done. And thinking about my upcoming date with Quinn in the back of my mind.

  Seven

  Whoa. Date. I was going on a date. Or at least that’s what I thought it was. We hadn’t specified. But it had to be a date, right? It was so hard to tell with people sometimes. She’d said she wanted to see me, so that meant in a romantic way and not a friend way, right?

  “What do you think Bonbon? Date date? Or friend date?” He blinked at me and sniffed my fingers. He always seemed miffed they weren’t actually carrots.

  “Yeah, I don’t know either,” I said. I would have to wait and see. This seemed pretty casual, so that could mean her intention was friendship. It was probably friendship. I didn’t know how to be friends with someone like Quinn. She intimidated me so much. And she was hot as fucking fuck. How was I going to get through this without extreme major embarrassment?

  So far, I’d only had minor flusters with her, but I knew that bigger ones were coming. That was just my life. Probably why my dating life was so dry, in addition to the closeted thing. People just didn’t want to sign up for my chaotic ass. I mean, I couldn’t blame them at all. I wouldn’t date me in a million years.

  Maybe it was my hangover still talking. I was feeling fractionally better, but that wasn’t saying much. I sat down on the couch to take a break and ended up falling asleep for three hours. Oops.

  When I woke up, I realized I had less time to get everything done, due to said nap, and I had to struggle to get my house in livable shape, shower, and pick out my clothes for the date. Or not date. Whatever this meeting would turn out to be. There should be a better word for when two people were hanging out. Date had so many connotations.

  I kept checking my phone to make sure that Quinn hadn’t changed her mind. I kind of expected her to, but just as I was about to leave, she sent me a message.

  I’ll see you soon.

  She also sent a cute little smiling emoji, but for some reason the message felt kind of ominous. That was probably just my own insecurity running amok.

  I’d decided to wear
my favorite yoga pants that had pieces of pizza floating through a nebula and a tank top that had an adorable chubby unicorn on it. It was a totally me outfit and I figured if Quinn didn’t like it, then she wasn’t a person I needed in my life. I checked myself in the mirror and fiddled with my hair. I’d twisted the front parts back and pinned them. I would have loved to be able to do one of those pretty crown braids from one side of my head to the other, but braiding was a talent that I just didn’t possess. I’d tried, and I had failed one too many times.

  I figured I looked sassy and cute, and Quinn was getting real, unvarnished Blake. Obviously I wanted to impress her, but last week had been a different situation.

  I got so lost in my ruminations that I forgot about the time and had to dash out the door. I had to ride the train a few stops to get to the Arboretum, but there was track work so I had to get off the train, onto a bus, off the bus, and back onto a train. It took far longer than it should have and I was late again. Yet more unfiltered Blake for Quinn to handle. I was rarely on time.

  I found her leaning against the black metal gate and looking like a workout goddess. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek bun and her black yoga pants were designed to make her body look its absolute best. Not that her body could look bad. Impossible.

  She turned as I approached her and smiled. Her eyes scanned my outfit and the smile widened.

  “I love all of this,” she said, motioning to my look.

  “All of this is extremely good,” I said, doing the same. Her top was grey with swirly print that said “cardio is hardio” on it. I cracked up. I would not expect that kind of a punny shirt from someone like Quinn.

  “Shall we?” she said, gesturing to the path.

  “We shall,” I said, still giggling about her shirt.

  “I thought tonight should be a little more casual,” she said, pointing at her shirt.

  “I love it. I seriously need that shirt. Fuck cardio.” An elderly couple strolling by glared at me. I had a bad habit of cursing too loudly in public.