Blue Summer

Blue stared at her reflection. She squinted her eyes, angled herself, saw the bulge of her stomach, turned back, and looked at the sliver of exposed skin between her high-waisted jeans and striped crop top. She liked this shirt. The sleeves weren’t too short, and it didn’t cling to her sides like a python trying very hard to murder its really cute prey. But showing any part of her midsection made her heart race with anxiety. Her final verdict was that she could not, in good taste, wear it to a party where there would be another actual real live lesbian.

So, she abandoned it for a black tank splayed out on Missy’s bed. She looked at herself in the mirror again and checked her stomach outline. The tank didn’t hide the entire bump, but she looked good enough. She knew she should probably try to step out of her comfort zone, try to be more body positive or whatever, but her confidence was already stuck in the mud and sinking fast. And this was not the night to start rebuilding it.

This was Blue’s one chance at a whirlwind summer romance (think Dirty Dancing but less straight people), so absolutely nothing could go wrong. She wanted to look approachably gay but also hot but also a little mysterious. Missy had said Josie was only staying with her dad for the summer and that she would go back to her mom’s house in early August; first impressions were crucial with that time constraint. It was already mid-June.

“C’mon, I liked that one,” said Missy from the bathroom. She was curling Adhira’s hair, and when she let go of the newest glossy black curl, it swung like a pendulum.

“What? This one?” Blue said, picking up the crop top. She shrugged. “I didn’t like the way it looked on me.”

“You looked fine,” said Missy.

“Did I?”

Blue threw her a knowing look. It was possible that she had looked fine, but she just couldn’t put herself out there like that. The fear of her shirt riding up and showing her stretch marks or folds or some other undesirable part of her body kept her in a basic wardrobe of oversized T-shirts and leggings. Only when she had her hair and makeup done did her self-confidence stabilize enough for tighter, shorter clothing.

“I liked it,” said Adhira, crunching a chunk out of the lollipop she was sucking on. “Gave you a kinda hipstery chapstick lesbian vibe.”

“You’ve done some research,” said Blue approvingly.

“Oh shit, you don’t even know. The internet is loaded with labels that are just like different ways to wear flannels and cardigans.”

Blue laughed.

Missy fluffed one of Adhira’s curls and pursed her lips. “I never liked flannel,” she said.

“What would give me a femme lesbian vibe, babe? Some lipgloss?” asked Blue. She stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a cotton pad, wiping off nude lipstick.

“A red lip. Classic. Taylor Swift said so,” said Adhira.

“Well, she is a lesbian icon. She wrote all those songs about men. Super dyke of her.”

Adhira smiled. Her lips were stained the poisonous green of her lollipop. She bit off the rest of it, leaving only the slightly bent white stick. She tossed it into the garbage can, a perfect arch and sink. Adhira was the best center that the Lark High girls’ basketball team had ever seen, and it showed in things tangentially related to basketball like lollipop sticks tossed into a trash can on the other side of the bathroom.

“Nice,” said Blue.

She looked through the makeup bags she had brought over, selecting a candy apple red. She swiped it on and tamed the corners with her pinky finger. “You two better tell me if I get this on my teeth,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Adhira and Missy in alarming unison.

“I mean it,” Blue said.

Missy glanced at her. There was a telltale gleam in her eyes. “What, afraid your Princess Charming will run screaming if you get lipstick on your teeth?” she said.

Blue rolled her eyes and hopped onto the counter, legs swinging. “Shut up.”

“What if she gets lipstick on her teeth?” suggested Adhira. Missy had finished curling her hair and was pinning half of it up into a messy bun.

“Then I will scream at the top of my lungs, and one of you will have to come save me,” Blue said. She peeked over her own shoulder, fluffing the tousled beach waves she’d slaved over for way too long. Layers and layers of curl cream and salt texture spray clung to her hair, creating a waxy film that crunched against her fingers when she scrunched it. “God, my hair feels like a rat’s nest.”

“My mom thinks there’s a mouse in her kitchen. She said she saw it behind the fridge,” said Adhira. She fluffed her hair when Missy stepped away, gently poking the bun.

“Don’t mess it up,” warned Missy. “I worked hard on that.”

“You live like in the middle of town. How the hell did y’all get a mouse?” Blue asked.

Adhira shrugged, obeying Missy and leaving the bun alone. She fished around for a small perfume bottle and spritzed it onto her wrist before rubbing both wrists together. “Might not even be one,” said Adhira. “My mom has a habit of seeing things that aren’t there. My dad checked when he came home from work, and he couldn’t even find any mouse poop.”

“Good thing,” said Blue.

“Well,” Missy said, “as riveting as this conversation is, it’s about party time. Deshi and Claire said they were on their way, and it’s like nearly nine.”

“Shit, already?” Blue said. She pulled out her phone, and sure enough, the time flashed from 8:55 to 8:56. She sprayed her face with another sheet of setting spray before all three girls filed downstairs.

Missy unlocked the door but left the screen shut, trying to keep in as much air conditioning as possible. The sun shimmered on the edge of the horizon, blurry and golden, but the day’s heat remained. Mosquitoes whined at the door, and Missy drowned out their pleas when she turned her stereo system on, blasting her new-and-improved party playlist. Troye Sivan murmured throughout the house.

Kids wandered through the door, bedecked with liquor, weed, and their best jeans, at around ten o’clock. It seemed mild compared to the high school parties Blue remembered ogling at on TV, but there was something exciting in wriggling between gaggles of chatting teenagers, holding a Solo cup full of a Missy Mixed Special, and inhaling the ever-present haze of marijuana smoke.

She kept sneaking peeks out the dining room window, watching the front porch for a girl she didn’t recognize. People were going in and out, but that didn’t stop Blue from checking the door any time she heard it swing open. After all, this was supposed to be Josie’s welcome party, not that it had been advertised that way.

In small towns, word-of-mouth traveled faster than West Coast wildfires. Matthew, Josie’s brother who lived here year round, had definitely heard about the party, and he would probably drag Josie along. Right? Or maybe not. Maybe they weren’t that close, maybe they couldn’t stand being in the same room, maybe they hated each other.

Blue should have done some digging. Figured out what the story was with the divorce. She should have asked her dad or stepmom, but it was too late for any pseudo-stalking. Now, Blue had to play the waiting game, or the bite-your-nails-and-hope-you’re-not-too-drunk-when-your- crush-who-you’ve-never-met-before-finally-gets-here game.

She turned around, intent on finding Missy to soothe her worries. Instead, she spotted Tanner and Darius making their way over to her. She relaxed a bit, ready to tease Tanner about his mudding accident. “Open your mouth. I gotta see it,” she said, grinning.

Tanner grinned back. His front tooth was chipped in half lengthwise. “Dammit, I thought it was completely gone,” Blue said. “Missy fucking lied.”

“You know she exaggerates,” said Darius in his soft voice. He hugged Blue from the side and motioned to Tanner. “You should’ve seen it though. The four-wheeler jerked over a tree root, and Tanner was standing up, of course. He cracked his face against the dashboard. He got a split eyebrow and some bruises too.”

Blue glanced back at Tanner. A line that had faded to dried-blood burgundy halved his right eyebrow, and bruises and little healing cuts peppered his face. A part of his collarbone waned a dull purple, yellow blurring its edges. She wondered if he had broken it.

“Why were you standing up on a four-wheeler?” asked Blue.

Tanner squinted at her. “How else are you supposed to ride it?”

“He put it on TikTok,” said Darius.

“I did,” agreed Tanner. “I got a few follows.”

“Actually, I take it back. Falling flat on your face while standing up on a four-wheeler? Creating wholesome boys-will-be-boys content? You’re a comedic genius. Few more scrapes and you’ll be ass-deep in porn bots and ten-year-old fanboys,” said Blue.

Before Tanner could answer, Missy screeched from the kitchen,

“Blue!”

Blue whirled around. A smile bigger than the moon shone on Missy’s face, and she pointed behind Blue just as the screen door protested on its old hinges. Blue’s heart hammered. She smoothed down her hair, tucked it behind her ears, decided that looked stupid, smoothed it down again. She turned just as Matthew and a girl in a tight camisole and ripped shorts came in. Her hair was buzzed and dyed the golden blond of ripened wheat, and a scar traveled down her shoulder to her elbow. Blue desperately wanted to know how she got it. Maybe she was a skateboarder and sliced it on a nail or something while attempting a new move. Who the fuck knew? But it was intensely cool. She was intensely cool.

Missy had already gone to greet Josie. She was chatting and chatting, but instead of words, all Blue heard was static. There was really another gay girl here for the summer, and she was literally the hottest person Blue had ever seen.

Then. Then, Missy dragged Josie over to Blue. Missy was saying something about how her best friend (not true but okay) would give Josie the grand tour of the town (not that it would be very grand or much of a tour) and how Missy would go get Josie some alcohol.

Missy left Blue with Josie. With a hot lesbian who was smiling at Blue like she already knew Blue was gay. Could she tell that a party had started in Blue’s ovaries when she walked in? Could she hear Blue’s heart hammering against Blue’s cramped ribcage?

She matched Josie’s smile, trying to chase away her thoughts. “Diana Blue,” she said, “nice to meet you.”

“Josie. No rhyme to go with it, though,” Josie said, her grin splitting wider.

Blue’s face erupted into a blush. Rhyming accidentally and having someone point it out was almost as embarrassing as tripping in front of someone you liked. “That’s cool,” Blue said. Say something else, idiot. “Uh, glad you could make it.”

Inwardly, she groaned. Could you say something stupider? Please, try. Just try.

“If I’ve got to be tortured here for a summer, might as well drag some new friends down with me,” Josie said. She jerked her thumb toward Matthew who had just disappeared out onto the patio. “He mentioned you, by the way. Says you two didn’t get off to a very good start when you moved here but that you were gay as gay could be.”

Blue couldn’t tell if that was meant to be a compliment or asshole-ish on Matthew’s part. “Well, I am. Gay as can be, I mean,” she said. She glanced out at the patio, but Matthew was nowhere to be seen. Why had he mentioned Blue to his sister? Did all siblings try to matchmake each other?

What did it matter? Blue should be focusing on the fact that Josie knew who Blue was and hadn’t tried to hitch a ride with a trucker headed to California.

“Same,” said Josie.

Her response brought Blue back down to earth, and Blue smiled through her growing blush when Missy came back, sporting a cup sloshing with something that smelled strongly of coconuts. Missy handed it to Josie. “Rum?” Josie asked, sipping it. “Mm, wait. Coconut rum, some kinda milk, and pineapple juice.”

“Your palate is impeccable,” said Missy.

Josie bowed. “Thank you, thank you,” she said. “I will taste anything from alcoholic abominations to bleach-infused gasoline.”

Blue laughed.

“You’re a dork,” observed Missy with a snicker.

“Guilty as charged,” said Josie.

“Cute though,” added Blue. Her cheeks immediately flushed again, and when Josie looked at her in surprise, Blue wanted to hide under the kitchen table and morph into a floor tile. Sadly, that was not an option.

Josie recovered with shocking ease and winked. “Laying it on thick, huh?” she said. “I like that in a girl.”

I like that in a girl. The words bounced in Blue’s head like rubber balls tossed down a flight of stairs. Holy shit, Josie was flirting back. Probably because Blue was the only other out queer girl in this backwater town where she was forced to spend the summer but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was Josie liked Blue and that Blue was somebody’s type.

“Sick. Now I don’t have to worry,” Blue said.

No. No, that was so stupid. Oh my God—

Josie’s laugh did not sound like wind chimes or a choir of angels or anything romantic. Two hogs fighting over a female pig would have made less noise and been less obnoxious, but it was far from a deal breaker for Blue. In fact, it was so endearing that it filled Blue’s heart with sunshine, and she thought she might explode. She had made a girl laugh—hard. For no reason. It hadn’t really been that funny but whatever.

“Yeah, sick is right,” Josie said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked into the kitchen then back at Blue and shook her head. “You’re pretty sick yourself. Oh man, sorry. That was dumb. Uh, anyway, your friend was telling me about some tour?”

Oh, right. Missy. Tour. Inevitable disappointment.

“I don’t know why she suggested that, honestly,” said Blue. She sipped her own drink, hoping the alcohol would stay with her forever so having to show Josie around town wouldn’t be too embarrassing. “It’s not cute. The only good thing we have here are the train tracks, which is where everybody takes their senior pictures.”

“Very grunge-punk of you guys,” said Josie. She was grinning again, and Blue noticed that one of her front bottom teeth was crooked.

“Yeah,” Blue said. “I haven’t taken mine yet, but I’m getting around to it.”

If Josie had been a dog, her ears would have perked up. She looked at Blue with intense green eyes, leaning closer. “Hey, don’t think this is weird, but I’m an amateur photographer. I’ve got a fancy camera with a bunch of lenses, and my mom bought me a subscription to Adobe Photoshop for Christmas. Want me to take them?” she asked.

Blue could not have picked a more homoerotic activity for them to do together (except maybe oiled wrestling.) Having someone take photos of you while you were looking as photogenic as possible, crowned in golden hour sunshine, was a fantastic idea. Not only that but it meant Blue had an opportunity to take Josie out of town and down to the only big city in a 45-mile radius. “What’s your rate?” she asked. “And would I have to pay you if I took you down to the consignment store in the city, and you consulted on my outfit?”

With a squeal, Josie clutched her cup. Alcohol sloshed up to the rim and trickled down the sides, beading on Josie’s hand, but she hardly noticed. “That sounds fucking amazing,” she breathed, “and for you, babe, my charge will be a trip to Dairy Queen on a night of my choosing.”

The only chain restaurants that had managed to stick around in town were an understaffed Dairy Queen, a Sonic attached to a gas station, and an always-in-danger-of-closing Taco Bell. The fact that Josie had chosen Dairy Queen as her poison of choice made Blue laugh. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll accept those terms and conditions.”

“Have you read them thoroughly?” teased Josie. She swayed back and forth, sipping her drink.

Blue rolled her eyes, but she could definitely get used to this, to someone like Josie. She said with a laugh, “Let me ask my lawyer.”

“Ooh, fancy,” said Josie.

Someone turned up the music, and the beat morphed into more of a vibration than a sound. Josie looked at Blue, one eyebrow arched. Wanna dance? she mouthed. She might have said it, but Blue couldn’t hear her.

By now, some neighbor would have called the sheriff, but they had a few minutes before he arrived and told them all to go home.