Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(41)

“You know he’s not my type.”

“But what’s your type? Remember the crush you had on that skinny, morbidly pale white boy we met at bowling?”

“Wade. I know, he looked like he was actively decomposing. I was thirteen! It was my Tim Burton era,” protested Audre. “Maybe I don’t have a type. But I know it’s not a guy who barely buttons his button-down.”

“You know nothing of the sort,” said Reshma in a purposefully posh British accent. “So, are you ready for your next challenge?”

“Ugh, it’s the dildo one. I don’t want to do it!”

“You have to. It’ll be hilarious.”

“Hilarious to who? And what could I learn by humiliating myself in a sex shop?”

“You can buy dildos at Target. Self-checkout.” Reshma tossed her hair and continued. “The Experience Challenge is about doing silly activities so you let go of the perfection addiction and live. What could be sillier than dildo-shopping with a guy you low-key love but has baby mama rumors and also possibly a girlfriend?”

“You have a point.”

“Do we know Bash’s backstory, by the way?”

“He’s not the most open person,” she said, jiggling her iced latte. “I know he was a track star in Oakland—”

“Time to research!” interrupted Reshma, with glee.

They googled “Bash Henry” on Reshma’s phone, but there were no results for a competitive track champion. Which didn’t match the story he told Audre. But then she remembered that his dad was California University’s track and field coach, and they found him instantly. Milton Wallace. Bash looked exactly like him, just taller, leaner, and a few shades lighter—and without the gray hair.

Detective cap on, Reshma entered “Bash Henry Milton Wallace Oakland Sprinter,” and the first entry was a San Francisco Chronicle shot of a straightlaced-looking Bash gripping three oversized trophies. His dad posed a few paces in front of him. The caption explained it all:

Sebastian Wallace, USA Today Boys Track & Field Athlete of the Year, 2024, with his proud dad, Milton Wallace of California University. The world-class track and cross-country runner earned three gold medals at the California Class 2A championships as well as the Nike Outdoor Nationals. And he’s only a junior! We’ve got our eye on this rising senior, who’s been heavily recruited by top D1 track and field universities like Baylor, University of Arkansas, and Louisiana State. He’s not sure where he’ll go but hopes to run for the US in the Olympics.



Sebastian Wallace. “Bash” was a nickname for Sebastian. So, that part made sense. But when did he become Bash Henry?

“This kid’s an actual enigma,” whispered Reshma.

“It says he’s a world-class runner,” said Audre. “What happened in February that made him quit track, leave home, and start over?”

“At the actual end of his senior year? A brutal time to be the new kid.”

“And why’d he move in with his mom, a woman he barely knows?”

“Just ask him to explain.”

“I would, but he’s super private. It’s frustrating. But I’m respecting his boundaries. Besides, if I was his girlfriend, I wouldn’t want some other girl prying into his life.”

“He has a girl, but he’s out here with you?”

“Platonically!”

Reshma rolled her eyes at this. “What do we know about this alleged girlfriend?”

“I saw her in the park with him, and they had this intense lovers’ fight. And when we hung out, she kept calling. I’m so confused. Apparently, he told her about me, the Experience Challenge, all of it. He says she’s an ‘acquaintance.’ But does this look acquaintance-y to you?”

Audre showed Reshma the video of Clio dancing next to Bash at the show. Reshma watched. Then she did a double take, zooming in on her face.

“Th-that’s her?”

“Yep. She’s cute, right?”

Reshma’s jaw dropped. “Fuck yes, she’s cute. Is her name Clio?”

“Yes!”

“Babe. I just met her. Go to her IG, see if Bash is on there.”

They searched through her Instagram, and deep down, there was a pic of her and Bash, posted two years ago. No location was tagged. The caption simply read: Till the wheels fall off.

“What does that mean?” whispered Audre.

“Like ride or die? They’re in this relationship until their metaphorical car dies.”

Audre gasped. “Where did you meet her?”

“She saved me from a murderous swan.”

“Typical.”

Stunned, Reshma sat down on the stool next to Audre. A sales guy knocked on the wall outside the curtain.

“You girls okay in there? Can I switch something out for you?”

“No, we’re good,” called out Audre.

“Just having a petit crisis,” said Reshma, putting on her posh accent. “We’ll be right out.”

“Umm… okay, but there are people waiting.”

Reshma stuck her head out from behind the curtain. “I’d like to speak to the manager.”

“I’m the manager,” said the guy tiredly.