Bad Idea (14 page)

“Jo, wait.”

She didn’t. Riva watched her stomp through
the grass a second time. She slammed the door behind her,
disappearing into the unfamiliar party.

* * * *

Riva couldn’t hear what her mom said from the
kitchen. She’d been pacing the floor of her room for at least half
an hour, and she’d discovered a floorboard noisy enough to drown
out most of her nervous thoughts. She stopped moving, immediately
tensing as images from the night before flooded into her mind. That
weird mood between herself and Daisy—she’d been trying to make
sense of it ever since.

Her mom shouted whatever it was again.

“What?” Riva called back. She opened her
bedroom door and ran down the stairs. Daisy was picking her up any
minute now, and she’d been ready forever, but she couldn’t help
scrutinizing herself yet again in the mirror at the bottom of the
staircase.

Right away, she started questioning her
motives for doing that, as if she hadn’t been around all the
arguments a dozen times in the last fifteen minutes. This situation
was making her lose her mind.

“I’m happy you’ve finally made a friend,” her
mom said. “Where are you two going tonight?”

“I thought we’d hit the video arcade at the
mall, like I used to do with Casey.”

Her mom appeared in the doorway to the
kitchen, wearing a black apron over the dress she’d worn to work at
the museum. “You know Daisy’s not Casey, right?”

“I know, Mom.”
Believe me.
Riva had
never had confusing feelings for Casey. She’d never spent time
thinking about what it would be like to kiss her.

“What do they have at the video arcade these
days? I thought people stopped playing video games as a performance
and have taken to owning private home entertainment systems
instead.”

Riva took a deep breath. She wasn’t in the
mood to have a whole sociological conversation about this with her
mom. The doorbell saved her.

Spinning on her heel, Riva ran to let Daisy
in. It might have been her imagination, but Daisy seemed more
dressed up than usual. She wore her hair in a bunch of small braids
fastened into a ponytail at the top of her head, and her makeup
seemed more colorful than her usual subtle, natural look. Her
ever-present gold hoop earrings were a couple inches larger in
diameter than normal, and she wore bright orange sneakers that
matched her purse.

“Hi,” Riva said, suddenly breathless.

“Hey.” Daisy’s eyebrows rose. “Is this a
fancy video arcade or something?”

Riva frowned and glanced down at herself.

“I’ve never seen you in shoes like that,”
Daisy explained.

Heat rose to Riva’s cheeks. “They’re strappy
sandals,” she said defensively. “I can totally still play DDR in
them.” In Riva’s opinion,
Dance Dance Revolution
was still
the best reason to go out to an arcade instead of staying on her PC
and meeting up with people online to go questing.

Daisy bounced on the toes of her neon
sneakers. “But can you dance fast enough to keep up with me?”

“Oh, you’ve played before?”

“DDR? Are you kidding? Jo was obsessed with
that for, like, all of middle school.” Something flickered over
Daisy’s face at the mention of her best friend’s name, but Riva
didn’t want to question her in front of her mom.

“Well, let’s find out what moves you’ve got.”
Riva tried to grin, but her face felt plasticky. This whole
interaction was too stiff and cheerful, too twisted by the
knowledge that Daisy had agreed to make out with Riva in
twenty-four short hours.

Glancing back to wave goodbye, Riva noticed a
thoughtful expression on her mom’s face. Apparently, her new
questions about Daisy had made her paranoid about everything,
because she caught herself wondering whether her mom sensed
something going on, too.

Riva cleared her throat and followed Daisy to
her car.

The evening started out totally normal except
for the thoughts running through Riva’s mind. She and Daisy drove
to the mall, stopped in the food court for some fries, then went up
and charged a plastic card enough to play DDR for a couple of
uninterrupted hours. The game’s popularity had fallen, so they
didn’t have to wait for a machine. They’d both played enough that
they could navigate to their favorite songs easily, and they could
both hang with hard songs that thumped with lots of beats per
minute.

Daisy was in better shape than Riva, so Riva
was the one who finally had to call a halt. Her heart pounded in
her chest, her breath moved way too fast to catch, and sweat was
messing up her carefully gelled hair.

Laughing, Daisy mopped her forehead with the
back of her hand. “I told you those strappy sandals wouldn’t let
you keep up.”

Riva panted. “I don’t think it’s the
shoes.”

“We have to get you more practice. You’d
never make the volleyball team if this wears you out.”

“I don’t think you have to prove your fitness
to sit in the stands and watch. I’m really not hoping for
more.”

They grinned at each other, and for what
seemed like the millionth time that night, Riva thought about what
it would take to close the distance between them. Would kissing
Daisy be like kissing Benton, or like something else entirely?

“What do you want to do while you recover?”
Daisy asked.

The question seemed innocent, but Riva
couldn’t find a right answer anywhere. “It shouldn’t take me too
long to be ready for a rematch.”

“You sure about that?” Daisy grabbed her
purse from the side of the machine and checked her face in her
compact. She dabbed at her eyes, correcting flaws in her makeup
that Riva couldn’t see. “I’m not gonna lie. I could use a rest
myself. You want to go get a milkshake or something?”

Riva pictured herself sitting across from
Daisy, making conversation. Could she act normal? All she could
think about anymore was what was about to happen tomorrow
night.

She didn’t know what else to suggest, though.
Sitting in a dark movie theater next to Daisy didn’t seem any
better. Sweating and laughing with her didn’t help either. Riva
shrugged.

Daisy frowned. “You all right?”

“Just worn out.”

Riva collected her stuff and followed Daisy
back to the food court. She made sure to trail a few steps behind
her so they couldn’t really talk.

Studying the menu at the ice cream shop,
Daisy chattered about possible flavor combinations. “Do you want to
share one?” she asked. “The milkshakes here are huge. Jo and I
never can split one because we like totally different things, but
maybe you and I can agree on something?”

Riva’s jaw worked uselessly. She was pretty
sure she and Daisy
could
agree on a milkshake flavor, but
she kept picturing sharing a straw and putting her lips where
Daisy’s had been.

Daisy must have caught where Riva’s mind had
headed because a grin flickered over her lips. “If you’re worried
about my saliva, we need to stop right now,” she said.

The feeling that spread through Riva’s body
was more than a blush. For a second, she couldn’t see or think, and
she grabbed for something to stabilize herself and almost knocked
over the chrome-plated divider that indicated where the line should
start.

“You doing okay?” Daisy smirked.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Riva drew a shaky breath.
Even if her life had depended on coming up with a milkshake flavor,
she wouldn’t have been able to name a single one. “Uh, what kind do
you like?”

“Grasshopper?”

Riva couldn’t quite remember what was in
that. “Sure?”

Daisy laughed. “That’s the least confident
sure
I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not really important,” Riva said. “It’s
ice cream. It’s great. It’s what you like.” She felt embarrassed
admitting that she cared so much about what Daisy liked.

The expression on Daisy’s face wasn’t
embarrassment, and it wasn’t the same as she’d worn the night
before when Riva had started obsessing about the possibility of
kissing her. More than anything, she seemed…disturbed. They were
staring at each other so intently that the person behind Riva had
to nudge her to get her to move forward as the line progressed.

“Tell me what kind you actually like,” Daisy
said quietly.

“Huh? Why? I’m sure what you like is
fine.”

“I’m not going to make a big thing out of
this, but you’re acting like what you like doesn’t even matter. It
does. To me.” For some reason, Daisy blushed when she said
that.

Riva shrugged. “I love blueberries.”
Admitting that felt weirdly personal. She was pretty sure Benton
didn’t know what kind of ice cream she liked. Casey was always on a
diet, so Riva had never felt comfortable talking about food around
her at all. Liking blueberries didn’t feel like it ought to
mean
anything
, but, for some reason, Riva wanted to cry when she
said it.

“They have a blueberry flavor.”

“But what about your thing? Can we mix them
together?”

“Nah, it’s cool. We’ll have to do this again
sometime. We can get the grasshopper then.”

“Okay.” Riva shifted from foot to foot,
feeling uncertain and exposed. “But you’re really okay with
blueberries?”

Daisy gave her a playful shove. “Yes, girl!
Don’t worry so much!”

Riva’s arm tingled in the spot where Daisy
had touched her. They stood closer than before. The heat of Daisy’s
side warmed Riva’s. They ordered the shake, then took it to a
counter in the food court, where they sat too close for Riva’s
comfort but not close enough for her desire.

Daisy watched Riva take the first sip of the
blueberry shake. Riva felt seen in a way she wasn’t used to. Part
of her wanted to feel like that a lot more, and part of her wanted
to close off and never feel that way again. She remembered being
scared with Benton, too. Having feelings for another person was fun
and exciting, but it didn’t seem safe to her.

Riva’s hand shook as she passed the shake to
Daisy so she could taste it, too. They didn’t break eye contact as
Daisy slipped her lips over the end of the straw.

“Is it okay?” Riva wasn’t sure exactly what
she was asking. Nothing was wrong—she was having a great time—but
she couldn’t quite believe that nothing was wrong.

“The blueberry? Yeah, it’s good.”

Daisy casually set the shake on the counter
beside them, then rubbed the palm of her hand against her shirt,
leaving a few drops of moisture behind. Every movement she made
seemed hyperreal to Riva, as if it would be impossible to forget
later. This had also happened with Benton. In the early days of
their relationship, Daisy had often gone to bed at night and
replayed every nuance of his facial expressions, analyzing them and
snatching any excuse they gave to glow with pleasure or fret with
insecurity.

“What about you?” Daisy was asking, forehead
creasing with concern. “Is the blueberry good?”

Riva took another sip. It
was
good,
creamy and sour-sweet in just the way she liked, with plump bits of
blueberry mixed in. But she could barely focus on enjoying it with
Daisy in front of her and what they’d agreed to do hanging
constantly in the air.

“It’s great,” Riva said. “You’re great.”

“But?”

“But I’m nervous,” Riva admitted. “I don’t
know how to act around you anymore.”

“Just like always,” Daisy said.

Riva shook her head. “That won’t work
anymore, and you know it. Everything’s different now.” Her voice
didn’t want to work. She had to force the last few words out. “The
way I think about you…it’s not the same.”

“What’s it like?”

“You know.”

Daisy had that pained expression again. “I
really don’t.”

Sighing, Riva hunted for some way to express
herself. “When I met Benton, there were all these things I’d never
felt before. The things that made me think I was falling in
love.”

Daisy nodded. “Okay…”

“I don’t know what it means that I’m feeling
them about you.”

Blinking, Daisy drew back. “You’re saying
you’re falling in love with me?”

Riva stiffened, glancing around involuntarily
to see whether anyone had overheard. She didn’t want to give Daisy
the wrong idea about what was going on. She wasn’t sure what it
would mean if she was in love with Daisy, but she was pretty sure
things couldn’t go on the same way with Benton. She wasn’t ready
for that.

“No! I’m just saying I don’t know what it
means.”

“Oh, okay.” Daisy seemed sad.

Riva felt guilty for drawing her into the
confusion of her relationship. These days, whatever she had going
with Benton seemed a bit embarrassing—a big change from when they’d
first gotten together and she’d always been so proud of him.

“I’m sorry,” Riva said. “I never should have
said anything. I’m just making everything weirder.”

Daisy touched the back of Riva’s hand. “No.
We should both probably say a lot more.” She took a deep breath.
“There’s something I need to tell you. I should have told you last
night. I should have told you…I don’t know when. Way before
now.”

“Okay.” Riva shifted, unable to imagine what
Daisy’s revelation could be.

“I’m gay. And I’ve had a huge crush on you
since pretty much the moment I saw you.”

* * * *

Daisy’s head spun. It didn’t feel real to
have actually said that out loud. She took a big gulp of the shake
to cover her moment of awkwardness, and it was too cold for her
mouth, and she almost choked on it. Daisy coughed into the palm of
her hand, wishing she could look cooler now, considering what she
had just said and done.

She was afraid to look at Riva. Unlike with
Jo, it wasn’t disgust she feared. Most of all, she cringed at the
idea of raising her eyes and seeing her own thoughts and feelings
reflected back at her. If Riva felt as she did and wanted what she
wanted…Well, then Daisy would have to
do
something about
that, wouldn’t she? It had never occurred to her before that part
of why she’d been so scared of coming out was that coming out meant
being
out, being a lesbian, doing whatever lesbians do.