“I’ve always kind of liked that type,” he said with a wink. “Come to think of it, you kind of resemble that type . . .”
“Go,” she laughed, shoving his arm.
He gave her a salute, then obediently turned and ambled down the sidewalk, back toward Mrs. Hanley’s house. “Never mind, nothing bossy about you at all,” he called over his shoulder, tossing her one last grin.
She smiled as she watched him go, pretending there wasn’t a part of her that wished he could stay.
Chapter Forty-Two
LISA
“Now isn’t a good time,” Mrs. Derrin said coolly when she answered the door. “You should have called first.”
“I’m sorry,” Lisa said. Charlene’s mother had opened the door only a crack, and was filling the space with her body, barring Lisa’s view inside. “But since I’m here, can I just talk to Charlene for a minute? I won’t take up much of her time, I promise.”
Mrs. Derrin sighed, her long artificial eyelashes fluttering theatrically as she rolled her eyes. “All right. Wait here.” She shut the door in Lisa’s face, leaving her standing on the wraparound porch.
Lisa took a deep breath, trying to calm the frustration that surged inside her every time she had to interact with Charlene’s parents. They had never been the biggest fans of Charlene and Lisa’s friendship, and their frostiness had seemed to double when Lisa’s mom announced her campaign for mayor. Although they’d never come out and said it, Lisa got the impression that they were offended at the very idea of a Black woman running for office. They seemed to think Gibson deserved to be mayor simply because he wanted it.
That was one of the many reasons why she and Charlene preferred to hang out at Lisa’s house. Or at least they had, until everything changed on Saturday. Since then, Charlene hadn’t exactly been ignoring her—she still sat with their group at lunch—but there was a distance between them now that hadn’t been there before. She definitely wasn’t coming over to Lisa’s house anymore.
Which was why Lisa was now standing at the door of the Derrins’ enormous mansion, being treated like a servant trying to crash the ball.
The front door opened again, and Charlene came out, still in the aqua blazer that she’d worn to school. “I’ll just be a few minutes, Mom,” she said to her mother, who hovered behind her in the doorway, her bright-red lips puckered like she’d licked a lemon.
Mrs. Derrin exhaled a disapproving puff of air through her nose, but turned and went back inside, shutting the door behind her just a smidge too hard.
Charlene’s eyes briefly met Lisa’s, then slid off, down to the whitewashed boards of the porch. With one hand, she absently fiddled with the thin gold chain around her neck, which held the locket Lisa had given her for her birthday that summer. At least she hadn’t taken it off. “Why are you here?” she asked quietly.
Lisa forced a smile, trying not to let the ache in her heart bleed through. “I have something for you.”
At that, Charlene’s eyes bounced up to her face, her expression wary. “Lisa, I told you, I don’t think—”
“Just look at it, okay?” Lisa’s heart pounded. Her idea had seemed so romantic when it first occurred to her, but now she wondered if it was just stupid.
She gestured to the white wicker patio set beside the front door, where a perfectly round head of iceberg lettuce sat in the center of the table.
Charlene blinked at it for a second, her mouth twitching. Did she love it? Hate it?
Oh no. Did she not even get it?
“It’s lettuce,” Lisa said, feeling ridiculous. This was such a bad idea.
“I can see that.”
Lisa cleared her throat. Bad idea or not, she was in it now. No choice but to keep moving forward. “Can we talk? Just for a minute?”
Charlene nodded, and they sat across from each other at the table, the lettuce between them. Lisa imagined she could see a face in the leaves, taunting her. “Um, so I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said on Saturday,” she started. She risked reaching across the table and lightly touching the back of Charlene’s hand with her fingers. Charlene stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “And I miss you, Char,” Lisa said.
Charlene nodded, her chin trembling slightly. “Me too,” she whispered. She didn’t look at Lisa, but stared intently at the head of lettuce, as if it might hold the answers they were both looking for.
“I want to fix us.”
“I do, too. It’s just—” Charlene sighed, pulling her hands away and dropping them into her lap. “Everything I said on Saturday is still true. I know you’re not ready to tell everyone yet, and that’s fine. I’m not either. You know how my parents would be.”
“Mine too,” Lisa agreed. “My mom actually told me yesterday that she doesn’t want me to be seen in public with you anymore until after the election.”
Charlene nodded. “Mine said the same thing.”
“Yesterday?”
“No, a while ago.”
“Oh.” That was good, right? That Charlene had kept hanging out with her even after her parents had told her not to? Then again, maybe it wasn’t, since Charlene hadn’t bothered to tell her.
Still, Lisa opted for the optimistic interpretation. “Well, thanks for not ditching me.”
Charlene looked at her hands uncomfortably, giving a little shrug. Here, there weren’t any of the distractions of school that could help them fake normalcy. Lisa hadn’t been prepared for just how awkward it would be. And that damned lettuce kept making faces at her.
Why had she led with the lettuce?
“But I can’t be with you while you’re with someone else,” Charlene continued. “Even if it’s not real for you, it’s real for him. It’s too much for me, Lees.”
“I know.” Lisa took a deep breath, her heart racing. “That’s what I came to talk to you about. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I think . . . I think I’m ready to tell him.”
Charlene’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Lisa swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’m ready for anyone else to know. But I think he’d keep it a secret if I asked him. And you’re right. It’s not fair to keep letting him wait for me when I know I’m not going to feel what he wants me to feel.”
Charlene bit her lip, her hand going to her necklace. “Are you going to tell him about me?”
“That’s why I came over here today. I wanted to ask what you wanted me to do. I can just tell him about me, if you’d be more comfortable with that.”
Lisa watched her closely, trying to tell what she was thinking. She knew—or at least thought she knew—that she could trust Shawn not to tell anyone, but just because she believed that didn’t mean Charlene would. Would Lisa be telling Shawn the story of an I, or the story of a we?
Whatever Charlene decided, Lisa hoped desperately that they were still a we.
Charlene kept her eyes downcast, focused on a spot on the table as she pulled the locket back and forth on its chain. Lisa wanted to move around to the other side of the table, slide her chair alongside Charlene’s so she could put her arms around her, but she held herself back. Charlene had been the one to put up the boundary between them; only she could take it down.