Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(42)

“I don’t love the way you’re treating us. You haven’t seen the last of me.”

“I’ve barely seen the first of you,” grumbled the guy, turning on his heel.

Reshma tossed her hair and popped back into the fitting room.

“Audre,” she whispered, “I need you to be so serious right now. Do you like Bash? If you lie, I’ll know.”

She took a deep breath. This was her best friend. Why was she so protective over her feelings? It’s just that everything this summer felt so fraught and tension-filled. Every move she made seemed high-stakes. She was emotionally raw. And, in just the few weeks she’d known Bash, they’d shared so much, so fast. He didn’t even want her to therapize him. He didn’t want anything from her. He just wanted her to have a good time and to feel safe.

Everyone else in her life needed something from her. It was too lame to say out loud, but Bash didn’t even want payment for his services.

How could she not have feelings for him, even the smallest, tiniest ones, after he traveled over two hours to the beach and back, and smuggled her phone through Barry?

And there was that moment on the beach. Right before everything fell apart. The shimmering tension in the air between them. She wondered if he’d felt what she felt.

Don’t even go down that road, she told herself.

“Yes. Yeah, I guess I like him a little bit. But he has a girlfriend. He says he doesn’t, but it’s not adding up. And boys lie. I really think he and Clio are together.”

“What if they weren’t, though?”

“But they are.”

“But what if they broke up?”

“What do you mean?”

“I could split them up,” she said, tapping her fingertips together with glee. “I have ways.”

Audre just stared at her for a moment. Too stunned to find the words. “First of all, that’s so evil and anti-woman. Why would you deliberately ruin another girl’s relationship? If they’re happy together, they should be happy together.”

“It’s not like they’re married. Come on, it’s not that serious. I’ve never seen you light up like this over a guy. You deserve this.”

“But why do you think the only way Bash could like me back is if you removed an obstacle for me? Why do you think I need your help to get a guy?”

“Because you do need my help. I mean, obviously.”

Audre winced. “Excuse me?”

“Look. I orchestrated all of this, didn’t I?” Reshma giggled. “Cute boys make you nervous, and then you get overly bossy.”

Audre stared at her, mouth slightly agape. Hurt sliced through her like a knife. Reshma’s tone was so factual. It was as if Audre’s cluelessness was simply a known truth. “You really think I’m that hopeless? That I can’t get a guy on my own?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” groaned Reshma, rolling her eyes.

“You basically said I suck at pulling guys. You think I’m a loser.”

“Audre. You’re gorgeous and funny and smart and cool. You know I didn’t mean that.”

“I know what you meant. You’re the star in the friendship. There can only be one.”

“Come on, don’t get upset.”

“I think I should go now,” said Audre quickly. “Listen, don’t get into Clio and Bash’s business. And don’t do me any favors.”

Audre was so angry—so offended—she could barely get the words out. Brusquely, she hooked her tote on her shoulder and walked out. Reshma didn’t try to stop her. Audre was so controlled, she barely ever showed her anger. But when she did, it was serious. So Reshma knew to give her space.

Five minutes earlier, she’d asked herself why she protected her feelings from her best friend. Well, this was why. Opening up to Reshma? It never ended well. And in this case, it could be as explosive as tossing a lit match into a bucket of gasoline.

If Reshma inserted herself into this situation, Audre would die.





Chapter 17


“Do we have a dildo-buying strategy?” asked Audre.

“You tell me,” said Bash. “I’ve never done this before.”

“So, how are you helping, exactly?”

“I’m here as an enthusiastic cosigner.”

“This challenge is dumb. What am I supposed to learn from buying a dildo?”

“Okay, you gotta stop saying the word dildo.”

“Why?”

Why? thought Bash. Is she really asking me that? How do I even answer?

Bash and Audre were walking toward the Atlantic Center Target in Downtown Brooklyn. The whole world was outside. Millennial couples, stylish toddlers, high school kids chilling in clusters. As they zigzagged through the crowd, Bash thought about her question.

I need you to stop saying that word, he thought, because I picture what it’s for, and I’m not chill enough to associate YOU… with… THAT… and act normal. It’s hard enough pretending that everything about you doesn’t throw me off! Your brain, your perfume, your bravery, even your arrogance. Especially your arrogance. And your crazy-beautiful skin and lashes and dimples that all blur together into an explosion of cute every time you smile. You have to stop saying it, because I’m just a guy, and my poker face is trash, and you’re fucking up my brain… and I momentarily forget that I shouldn’t be thinking of you as anything but a friend. And we’re becoming really good friends.