Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(30)
“Me?” He drew back from her, frowning. “I don’t need rescuing. I never need rescuing.”
(Audre’s therapist radar perked up at this. She tucked it away for safekeeping, almost certain it meant something.)
“You disappeared, Bash.” She paused to cough her face off. “You… you were underwater forever! What are you, a merman?”
“Sort of? I’ve been learning how to be a free diver, on YouTube! Free divers hold their breath for insane amounts of time. I’m up to two minutes. I was fine!”
“Why didn’t you tell me that? You disappeared. I was terrified.”
“You’re right, that was so stupid.”
“What were you doing down there, anyway?”
“Ugh. It’s so embarrassing.” With a massive exhale, he stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of their towels. “Fuck, you scared me to death. What if something had happened? What if you’d gotten hurt and I was responsible…”
Audre stood up, grabbing his arm to get his attention. Bash stopped pacing, stumbling a bit on the uneven sand. They stood facing each other, practically vibrating with adrenaline. Her eyes got tangled in his. As briskly as if she’d touched open fire, she dropped her hand.
And then, time stopped. Audre suddenly felt uber-aware of everything—that her short, thin dress was drenched and clinging to her body. That her skin was tingly. That the sunrays were making her dizzy. Or was it him? His soaked, sculpted skin glistening in the sun? His lanky, outrageously tall frame? The fact that he’d just rescued her like Superman? (No, Aquaman.) Wet Bash was more than she was prepared to handle.
Audre feared she was five seconds from swooning into his arms. But it wasn’t in the movie kind of way, with flawless lighting and perfectly written lines. No, she wanted to back up a few feet and then take a running leap onto him, knocking him to the ground, spread eagle.
But that was ridiculous. She was paying him for a service. This was just sixteen-year-old hormones and adrenaline from the botched rescue. Right?
Maybe. But she didn’t know how to handle all of the… hormones and adrenaline.
And then, accidentally, her eyes found his—and she caught him, for a millisecond, absolutely gawking. He was staring at her with open fascination. Like he’d never seen a girl before.
“Audre—” he started.
“No,” she interrupted nonsensically.
No? What was she saying no to? The electric surge crackling between them? The expectation? The pressure? Suddenly, she felt unsteady. Her hands were shaking, and her chest went tight. Her palms started to sweat. A feverish heat flushed over her chest. She started to tremble, her breath coming in tortured gasps. The panic attack was threatening to explode.
Audre grabbed her shoes and tote. And ran.
Chapter 12
Reshma’s Argentinean trip ended before it had really started. A mere week and a half after she arrived, her parents sent her ass packing.
Much like her bestie’s situation, Brooklyn was not her plan for the summer. Unlike her bestie’s situation, the change in plans was entirely her fault.
She’d been back home for half a day, but she hadn’t told Audre yet. Instead of texting her the news (boring), she planned on showing up at her apartment as soon as she slept off the jet lag. A dramatic reveal! Who wouldn’t love that? Such antics were expected of Reshma. She knew her role, and it was to surprise and delight.
As disappointed as she was to be back in town, it was cool that she and Audre would experience their first Brooklyn summer together. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Plus, she was dying to get all the details about her experiment with Bash. Over FaceTime, Audre told her that they were tackling the “physical activity” challenge today. If she knew her friend, she was probably using her time with him as a psychological study rather than an “experience.”
Hopefully she was being bold and hadn’t chickened out.
With an indulgent yawn, Reshma rolled over on her side and curled into a snuggly ball. She’d only been home for a few hours, but she was already bored. This was a problem. Being left to her own devices was historically not a good idea.
That’s pretty much what happened in Argentina. Reshma got into huge trouble at her parents’ recording studio. She was there to be a music production intern. But after two days, she caught a terrible cold—and was bedridden at the Four Seasons Hotel. Too busy to deal with Reshma, her parents had the production assistant deliver cold medicine. Kiki Silva was Afro-Brazilian, a music theory major at University of Buenos Aires—and looked like the long-lost sister of Chloe and Halle Bailey.
Reshma decided to act sicker than she really was.
The first day Kiki stopped by Reshma’s hotel room, she didn’t come out for two hours. The next day, it was three hours. And so forth, until the day Kiki was late for an important meeting with record label execs.
Not good. Even worse? Kiki was twenty, and Reshma was sixteen and a half—an age-gap scandal punishable by jail time. So, they agreed to part before they were caught. But not before Reshma convinced Kiki to break into the studio after hours, so they could record an original song, “For You I’d Catch the Flu.” Fatal mistake. That night, Reshma accidentally spilled champagne all over the mixer. The damages added up to $21,000—and the couple was caught.