Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(66)

Good thing she didn’t go there, because Bash’s silence was deafening. After minutes that stretched on forever, he finally spoke. And his voice was unrecognizable.

“I don’t want to be friends,” said Bash.

Audre shut her eyes. The air went out of her, like she’d just absorbed a vicious punch to the stomach.

“Why.” She said it like a statement, not a question.

“You don’t understand what I’m saying. I can’t just be friends with you. I can’t kiss you without wanting to do it all the time. I can’t talk to you without wanting you forever. And if I hurt you, I’d never forgive myself. That’s why I need to go.”

The connection went dead.





Chapter 27


“The city looks so cinematic from here,” said Clio. “Like a postcard.”

It certainly did. On a whim, Reshma had invited Clio to the rooftop bar at the William Vale Hotel in Williamsburg, home of the longest outdoor pool in the city and insane views of the Lower Manhattan skyline. Reshma and Clio weren’t supposed to be there without parental guardians. But Reshma’s parents had a lifetime day pass (such an oxymoron, “lifetime day”) and the bouncers had a soft spot for Reshma. At the beginning of every summer, Reshma slipped them a few bottles of wine lifted from her parents’ wine cellar, and in exchange they turned a blind eye to her underage presence.

The rooftop pool seemed like the perfect place to hang out with Clio. She was an outdoorsy girl. Outdoorsy people didn’t waste beautiful days being indoors. So, a museum, coffee shop, or shopping date felt off-brand. And it was a beautiful day. Bright, sunny, warm-but-not-sweltering, and shimmering with possibility. And up on the glitzy rooftop—crowded with twentysomething hotties—Reshma and Clio were living the life. They were lying under a cozy, striped cabana, sipping fruity drinks and gleaming from Reshma’s Supergoop! sunscreen.

“Isn’t it like being in a resort in Ibiza?” asked Reshma, adjusting the hip tie on her lipstick-red string bikini.

“I wouldn’t know,” admitted Clio. “I’ve never been to Ibiza. Or anywhere in Europe.”

“You’re basically in Europe now.” She lowered her sunglasses and looked around. “These people aren’t American. They’re rich international kids playing with Mummy and Daddy’s money.”

“How can you tell?”

Because, she thought, I’m one of them.

She motioned for Clio to come closer and whispered, “Stilettos at the pool. Heavy on the upper-lip filler and WAG boob jobs. I see two gays with fox eye lifts like Bella Hadid. Also, we’re surrounded by a violent amount of Louis Vuitton. None of these people work for a living.”

“You’re so good at that,” said Clio in awe. “What’s a WAG?”

“Wife and Girlfriend. It’s what Brits call women who date or marry pro athletes.”

“I’m learning so much. I feel like I should teach you something now. Want to learn about the healing powers of honey?”

Reshma burst into a wide smile. She wiggled her toes to the deejay’s Bad Bunny mix, feeling goofy-happy. Something about Clio made her want to slow down and listen to her every word. Hell yes, she wanted to hear her explain the healing powers of honey!

But then Clio said, “It’s funny, I didn’t hear your accent until you said ‘mummy.’”

“It comes and goes. It usually pops out when I’m tired, or buzzed, or…”

“Or what?”

“Really comfortable with someone.” Reshma heard herself say this and couldn’t believe how corny she sounded. But this had been one of the best days she’d had in this entire, miserable year. She may have started out with an ulterior motive—to lure Clio away from Bash—but now, it was so much more than that. She’d forgotten Bash Henry existed. They’d gotten ice cream, and dim sum, and now they were enjoying lazy-day banter in the sun. What could be better?

Reshma felt like all roads had led her to this moment. Which she was sharing with this exquisite girl. Who did not, in fact, look like she belonged at the Vale pool.

Clio wasn’t wearing a full face of makeup. Nor was she dressed in a flashy way. In fact, she was simply wearing a short T-shirt dress over a one-piece swimsuit. But with her freckled cheekbones, sunflower earrings, and lavender-scented locs tumbling loosely to her shoulders… she was breathtaking. It was like she’d been airlifted here from some island paradise.

And Reshma was nervous. Clio was unlike anyone she’d ever had a crush on. She was so… herself. Reshma wasn’t herself. Reshma had no idea who she was. Maybe she had more in common with the plastic weirdos partying around them than with Clio.

“So,” started Clio, “you feel comfortable with me?”

“I do. I’ve never invited anyone here.” She paused. “Do you feel comfortable with me?”

“Take off your sunglasses and look at me.”

Reshma did, cupping her palm over her eyes to block out the sun. (Unfortunately, the glare from her mirrored acrylic nails nearly blinded a nearby pool boy.) “Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” said Clio.

Reshma grimaced a little. “I know, this is kind of a scene. Should we go?”

“No, I love visiting your world. We fed swans for me, and now we get bougie for you.” She slid on Reshma’s sunglasses and leisurely tucked her hands behind her head.