Our Own Private Universe. Robin Talley

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      “I mean, okay.” Lori looked halfway contrite. “I know. But I don’t see what the big deal is about signing this petition thing.”

      “Well, yeah, because you’re straight. You can’t get what it’s like for Christa and me.”

      Lori got quiet after that.

      Soon the kids started showing up for our jewelry class, and Lori and I had to stop talking. But our class that day wound up being scary. We were halfway through teaching friendship knots when Guadalupe, one of the little girls, started hacking out of nowhere. I could tell it was an asthma attack because I’d seen the same thing happen to a boy at the clinic last year. That kid had sucked on an inhaler until he was fine, but when I looked around frantically for Guadalupe’s inhaler, it turned out she didn’t have one. I took her over to a cool spot under a tree and tried to soothe her until her breathing started to calm down a little. After that I tried to go find her parents but she wanted me to stay and help her finish her friendship bracelet instead. Kids were so weird.

      For the rest of the day, Christa was super quiet. I could tell she was upset. I tried to talk to her at dinner, but she barely answered me. Eventually I gave up and sat alone at the long table, eating toast and acting as if I wasn’t totally depressed.

      Vespers was even worse.

      Like the night before, we met in the minister’s living room, piled on the floor in rows while the adults sat on the couches above us. First we watched the news on TV for a while, even though we couldn’t understand it since it was in Spanish. The chaperones had this thing about us “not losing sight of what’s happening in the wider world,” but I thought it was mainly because they didn’t have service on their phones, either, and they were desperate for information. That night, the news showed a sad story about some really young American soldiers who’d been killed overseas and how their families back home were coping. We all got depressed even without totally understanding what the news anchors were saying.

      I think the chaperones must’ve realized the news was kind of a downer, because Dad turned the TV off quickly and went straight to leading prayers and songs by candlelight. The local minister’s wife, Señora Perez, was trying to teach us songs in Spanish while Señor Suarez played his gorgeous old guitar. That part might’ve been kind of fun if I wasn’t sitting right across from Christa. She studiously looked around in every direction but mine.

      “Let’s sing ‘If I Had a Hammer,’” Dad said from the couch. The other adults in the room laughed. The rest of us groaned. “If I Had a Hammer” was this old, boring song that people like my grandad loved.

      We started off in those droning voices you have to use when you sing old-people songs. When we got to the end of the first verse, Drew hopped to his feet and went to stand next to Señor Suarez. When the second verse started—it’s about what you’d do if you had a bell instead of a hammer (I told you this song was dumb)—Drew held up one hand as if he was dangling a bell, then pretended to whack the invisible bell with a stick. We all giggled through our singing. As the song went on, Drew kept banging on the bell, and his gestures got more and more elaborate. He pranced around the room while everyone laughed even harder. I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my head when Drew got to the next verse, about what you’d do if you had a song, and he started waving his arms dramatically, opera singer–style. Everyone was laughing so hard they could barely sing.

      Everyone except me. I watched Drew carefully, and after the first verse, I could tell his heart wasn’t in this little show.

      There was something behind his smile. A glimpse of what I’d seen that day in the airport.

      He wasn’t enjoying this. He was only playing the part.

      He made everybody else believe it, though. Dad was watching Drew with an indulgent tilt to his head. If I’d acted like that much of a fool during vespers, Dad never would’ve let me hear the end of it.

      Drew’s life had been perfect when he was my age. He’d done well in school, he’d had a ton of friends, he’d played ball, and he’d always been grinning about something. But all that had changed when he started college. I should’ve figured out that something was up, but I hadn’t even known there was a problem until he broke down and told me. I was too obsessed with everything that was wrong in my own life. I hadn’t even really thought about Drew’s.

      It hurt, now, to think about what a bad sister I’d been. I turned away so I couldn’t see him.

      Maybe by accident, or maybe not, my eyes landed on Christa.

      This time, she was looking at me, too.

      She looked away just as fast. But I knew I hadn’t imagined it.

      Dad dismissed us when the song was over, and we all climbed to our feet and started down the dark path to the old church. Everyone was still laughing and talking about how hilarious my brother was. I walked with Lori and our friends, but I never stopped watching Christa. She was walking alone at the edge of the group.

      Above us, the open field of stars stretched for millions of miles. Trillions.

      In two minutes, we’d be inside the church, under the dark, thick ceiling with everybody else. We’d use our shaky flashlight beams to find our spots. On the girls’ side of the room, everyone had laid their sleeping bags perpendicular to each other so our feet wouldn’t wind up in each others’ faces. It hadn’t worked. Worse, now that we’d been here for a few days, I was smelling more than feet.

      I didn’t want to be in that room. I wanted to stay out here. Under those stars.

      With Christa.

      We were almost at the church by the time I screwed up the courage. I tried to act casual, sidling up next to her with my hands tucked into the pockets of my borrowed jeans.

      Christa glanced at me, but didn’t say anything.

      “Hey,” I said.

      She didn’t meet my eyes. “Hey.”

      After another minute of walking in silence, I said, “Did I do something wrong?”

      “No.”

      “Is this because of Jake’s petition? Are you annoyed that I signed it?”

      “No.” She looked away. “I wish I could have.”

      “Well.” I didn’t know what to say. I wished she’d signed it, too. “Do you seriously think your parents would find out?”

      “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But they could. It’s easier when I’m at home. They don’t have a reason to question whether I’m straight or not, you know? But with me down here...”

      Right. She meant that back home, her dumb boyfriend Steven made her life easier.

      I didn’t want to hear any more about how great Steven was. It felt as if she’d picked him over me before I’d even had a chance. Maybe she thought I wasn’t worth bothering with after all. The most we ever could’ve had was a summer fling, after all.

      I was so frustrated I could’ve yelled. Instead I swallowed hard.

      Maybe this was going to be it for me. One night. One kiss. That was the whole story of my big summer lesbian СКАЧАТЬ