Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(20)

Bash looked helplessly intrigued. “I am fun. But what are you asking me?”

“Will you show me how to have fun? Be my fun consultant? I’ll pay you. And no strings attached, by the way. This is business only. Hook up with whoever, I won’t ask questions.”

He chuckled a little and paused, fingertips trailing the side of his jaw. “I don’t get it. I know you have friends. You don’t need to hire me to hang out with you.”

“This isn’t about friendship. I’m looking at it like an internship. A learning opportunity.”

“Bro, you know nothing about me. I could be a liability.”

“I need to get into Stanford,” she blurted out, desperate. “This book’ll help me stand out to the admissions board. I’m not exceptional enough on my own.”

Bash stuck his bottom lip out in a mock pout. “Aww. But you’re crying your best.”

“I’m serious. You’re saving up to get your own place. What’s your price?”

Now he laughed outright, shaking his head. “I can’t be bought. I have integrity.”

“Please! My friend and I came up with five things I should do. Wanna see?”

Bash attempted to look nonchalant. But his eyes were sparkling when Audre handed over her phone. He cleared his throat and began to read out loud:

1. Try a risky new physical activity.

2. Buy a dildo.

3. Stay out at a party past 10 PM.

4. Hook up with someone you have ACTUAL chemistry with.

5. Face a major fear.



Bash couldn’t hide his fascination. His expression screamed “challenge accepted.” Or maybe it was just “I’m bored and I have nothing better to do.” Either way, Audre would take it.

“Well, what do you think?” she said as he handed her phone back to her. She slipped it into her pocket.

“I think you got too much time on your hands.”

“Time is what I don’t have. I’ve given myself a book deadline of August fifteenth.”

Desperately, Audre thought of what Reshma would do in this situation. She changed her stance, tossing her braids to one side and popping out her hip seductively. Unfortunately, her long hair hit a shelf of bobblehead dolls, knocking them to the floor. Quickly, she scrambled to pick up the dolls, her phone slipping out of her pocket. With a groan, Bash rushed over and bent down next to her, collecting the dolls into a shopping cart.

“If I say yes,” he started, “will you go? Please?”

They both stood up, and Audre’s mouth went dry. He towered over her. He smelled like coconut, beachy stuff. She nodded and said, “Yes.”

“Thank you.” He grinned. “I’ll do it. Gimme your number—we’ll link on Friday.”

Audre could hardly believe his response. She’d gone way out on a limb, hiring a stranger to help her learn how to loosen up. He could’ve rejected her, easily. Which made her wonder…

“Why did you say yes?” she asked.

He looked down at her, biting back a smile. She could tell he loved this challenge. “’Cause these days I rarely say no.”

These days? As opposed to when?

Just then, she realized he’d picked up her phone. She reached for it, but Bash held it above her head, out of reach.

“I have one condition, though.”

“I’m listening.” Audre planted her fists on her hips.

“Please don’t ask me anything too personal.”

“Virgo?”

“And I ain’t on that astrological shit.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Bash handed her back her phone. Audre straightened her spine, all business.

“So, how much will you charge?” She slid her glasses up her nose.

“Can’t I just do it for free? An actual cash payment makes me feel… whorish.”

“Embrace it,” she said. “I need to pay you so we’re clear about where we stand. What’ll it be? Two hundred dollars?”

“I hate this,” he groaned. “Okay, let’s say seventy-five. I’ll do it for seventy-five.”

Audre grinned. “We have a deal, sir.”

Bash stuck out his right hand. She slid her palm into his. To exert power, she squeezed as she shook his hand. His eyebrow quirked, and he squeezed harder. And then they both let go.

He’s competitive, she thought. Not a Virgo, then. Aries maybe?

“One more thing,” said Bash. “I wanna meet your cat.”

“B-but we already shook on it!”

“Let’s shake on it again,” he said, reaching for her hand. She shook it, already wondering if she knew someone with a cat she could borrow for an afternoon.





1, 2, 3, 4… THRIVE!

A Teen’s Rules for Flourishing on This Dying Planet


By Audre Mercy-Moore


Rule 4:

Be smart about lies or you might tell one that exacerbates your allergies.





Chapter 9


Bash collapsed flat on his back on the wet sand, waves foaming and dissipating over his feet. His surfboard, Nick (named for Nick Gabaldon, the most famous Black surfer in history), stood next to him in the sand, nose-first.

These New York waves are gonna kill me, he thought, struggling to catch his breath.