Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(13)

“That’s the point,” said Bash with a small shrug. Suddenly, he moved closer to the tree, where she was standing. The air seemed to go electric. Without warning, he slowly reached his hand toward Audre’s face. She sucked in her breath, backing up against the trunk and going rigid. He was close enough for her to take in his scent, something coconutty, beachy, and familiar. Gently, he plucked a tiny wildflower growing from a low branch just above her head. With a grin, he stuck it behind his ear.

What was this flower child hippie shit? Was he being an f-boy menace, or did he simply enjoy nature? Audre exhaled slowly—but shakily—and hoped Bash didn’t realize that his closeness had made her go all tingly.

Don’t feel silly for being affected by his antics, she told herself. He’s objectively hot, and you’re raw and vulnerable right now. It’s hormones. It’s science.

And that’s when she remembered.

“Wait. Aren’t you hosting a party right now? Reshma said some Cheshire kids were going to your house tonight.”

“Oh,” he said, the corners of his mouth drawing downward. “Yeah. Generally, I like to show up late and leave early. Skip the boring parts.”

“But… the party’s at your house.”

“It’s not my house,” he corrected. “It’s my mom’s house, where I’m temporarily staying. She’s right on Prospect Park West, like two minutes away. I’m not far. Anyway, yeah. I’m staying there till I save enough to get my own apartment.”

Audre wondered why he needed his own place. Wasn’t he going to college in September? Most colleges didn’t allow freshmen to live off campus. Maybe he needed financial aid for housing but didn’t qualify. It was impossible to get a read on this guy. Which was weird. It usually took a good five minutes before she had most people figured out.

“Let me get this straight. You left a bunch of people at your mom’s to go for a run?”

“Umm… no? It was a light jog.” He eyed Audre like she was the ridiculous one.

Audre blinked at him. Again, she wondered if this dude was for real. “How high are you right now?”

“Not high enough, to be honest.”

“Listen, Bash,” she started carefully. “You’re new in town. But I grew up with the kids at your house. They’re rowdy. If your mom has any interesting prescriptions in her medicine cabinet, they’re gone now. You should go back.”

“They all seem pretty chill,” he said, waving his hand. “Besides, my mom doesn’t believe in Western medicine.”

“Mmm. Does she have any traumas due to America’s broken health care system?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Like I said. I’ve heard about you. You’re not gonna get me.”

“Just a matter of time,” she said, and she wasn’t joking.

“I know it sounds weird that I left my own party. But I get claustrophobic after a while. I don’t like, love, how it feels when hella people are in your space. It’s just…” He scrunched his pretty features into a mask of disgust and clenched his fists at his chest (which automatically flexed his biceps). “I needed some air.”

The sight of him flexing was a little much for Audre this evening. Did he do that on purpose? Bash Henry’s wide-eyed-earth-angel act was wearing thin. She knew his type. He was addicted to making everyone fall in love with him—but was impossible to pin down.

“I don’t know, man, my time is valuable,” he continued. “And every moment counts. I only want to have good moments. If the vibe is off, I’m out.”

Every moment did count. She wished she could be like Bash, feeling free enough to walk out of any situation he didn’t love. How had he learned to do that?

Suddenly, irrationally, Audre wondered if he was going to ask her to the party. After her dad had uninvited her from his house, a part of her yearned to be wanted somewhere right now. Besides, it would’ve been the polite thing to do. Nervously, she shifted her weight from foot to foot and employed her favorite nervous tic—collecting her braids in one hand and sweeping them over one shoulder.

The invitation never came. In fact, Bash started to look preoccupied, chewing on the inside of his cheek distractedly.

Wait. Why was she standing in the park, straining to understand the psyche of some airhead who was such a textbook player it was almost funny—especially when his was one of the only personality types she didn’t even like therapizing (too easy)? She should’ve been packing her bags for Malibu Beach! How did she get here?

All of Audre’s feelings from the day—upset, crushed, rejected by everyone she loved—began to bubble up. But she had nowhere to put these emotions. So, she made the terrible decision to unleash it all on a virtual stranger.

“So, if the vibe is off, you’re out,” said Audre, repeating his words with a slight edge.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Interesting. I know your type. Everything works out for you. You don’t take anyone you hook up with seriously. You have a little lover’s spat with some girl in Prospect Park…”

Bash flinched, shaking his head. “Lover’s spat? No.”

“… in the middle of your party while hearts are breaking all over town. And I’m left picking up the pieces while sitting on a self-heating toilet comforting Sparrow Lipsitch and her press-on nails.”