Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(39)

Audre: yes u did



Bash: it was the least I could do. I’m the one who dragged you out to Rockaway



Audre: but i made you



Bash: nobody makes me do anything



Audre: barry MADE you talk to him for half an hour



Bash: true but we have a lot in common!!



Audre: lol



Bash: wyd



Audre: i’m grounded for the entire weekend. forgot I was supposed to babysit The Goblin



Bash: Who?



Audre: Baby Alice



Bash: u call your sister the goblin? diabolical behavior



Audre: i know, it’s so bad. anyway, my mom couldn’t reach me all day b/c my phone was missing



Bash: honest mistake, tho. who hasn’t lost their phone? Or lost track of time?



Audre: i haven’t. no one’s more responsible than me



Bash: u wanted to experience being messy. happy to be of service



Audre: almost forgot, u owe me an explanation



Bash: i already spilled my guts to you. There’s nothing left



Audre: yes there is. what were you diving for?



Bash: it’s gonna sound crazy



Audre: just tell me



Bash: i was going after a smurf lunch box from the ’80s



Audre: WTF



Bash: this is gonna be a long text, kk? it’s a rockaway urban legend. no one knows why, but sometimes these old Smurf lunch boxes wash up on shore. they’re collectibles now, they sell for hundreds



Audre: i can’t tell if you’re fucking w me



Bash: on mamas, I’m not fucking w u



Audre: on mamas?



Bash: it’s the bay area version of “on god”



Audre: wait, I need to google this smurf thing later. i’m sorry it doesn’t seem real



Bash: lol not only is it a real thing, if u ever find a smurf lunch box at the beach, you owe me. I missed my chance for clout b/c you decided I was drowning



Audre: my diving days are over. i’m scared of deep ocean water



Bash: could’ve fooled me



Audre: wyd



Bash: i’m out @ a music venue, Brooklyn Steele. u been there?



Audre: I’ve never been anywhere



Bash: yo the craziest shit happens to me. last weekend, I was in tribeca leaving some kid’s party, and I got in the wrong uber. there was already somebody in there, this female rapper from alabama. her accent went crazy. she freestyled for me on the spot! Anyway she put me on the list for her show tonight at brooklyn steele



Audre: what even is your life? what’s her name



Bash: i forgot. hold pls



Bash:..…



Bash: pia colada. video incoming



A few seconds later, Bash attached a dark, shaky video from the vantage point of two or three rows from the stage. It was a tiny club, standing room only. The video was hard to make out, but there was a tiny woman on stage. Pia Colada looked to be in her early twenties. She wore lime green space buns and matching thigh-high stiletto boots. It was hard to tell with the fuzzy sound quality, but she seemed to have no rap skills. She was hot and charismatic, though. And she kept pointing to Bash as she was performing. Every time she did, the group with Bash screamed in delight.

Audre zoomed in to see if she knew anyone Bash was with. And then, clear as day, Clio popped in the frame. It was only a second, but it was clearly her—dancing cutely right next to Bash. She threw her arms in the air and let out an enthusiastic “Whooo!”

Clio. His “acquaintance.” Audre told herself this was fine. Because it was. Bash said they weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend, and she had no choice but to believe him. Besides, there was nothing between her and Bash, anyway. Audre just had a one-sided crush.

The truth? Audre suspected he would’ve run back to the beach to rescue and return Barry’s cell phone. That’s just the kind of guy he was.


Bash: did u hear what she said



Audre: i couldn’t make it out!



Bash: she put me in her song



“Come for my girls expect a backlash



Ass on squish I’ll give you whiplash



See me in VIP with my boy Bash”



Audre: AYYYEE! love this for u



Bash: it’d be more fun if u were here



Audre: ikr. good night, B



Bash: Good night, A



Just before she fell asleep, she looked again at the video Bash sent. When he turned the camera on himself, she barely recognized him. He looked a little untethered, adrift. Like physically he was at the show, but mentally he was far, far away.





1, 2, 3, 4… THRIVE!

A Teen’s Rules for Flourishing on This Dying Planet


By Audre Mercy-Moore


Rule 6:

This isn’t a rule, it’s a question. If the person you like is super nice to everyone, how do you know if they like you specifically? I guess the rule, here, is that crushing on a sweet guy isn’t any less confusing than crushing on a player.