Bad Idea (2 page)

Emmy’s cheeks were so flushed, they looked
red. She’d crossed her arms over her chest, and her hands clenched
into fists, loosened, then clenched again. The motion made her
glitter-painted fingernails flash like knife blades.

Riva cleared her throat and struggled to find
some bravery inside herself somewhere. “Look,” she said. “I’m
really sorry. I shouldn’t have written that note.”

“You know what I’m really sick of?” Emmy was
clearly trying to keep her voice down, but she was mad enough that
she actually spoke in a hoarse whisper-shout that anybody could
have heard.

Out of the corner of her eye, Riva noticed
several kids dawdling at their desks, obviously hoping to linger
long enough to get the scoop on what had been going on in
class.

“I am so incredibly, ridiculously sick of
people who think that because I’m out, they can bring all their
experimentation to me. I know who I am! I don’t want to experiment!
And I definitely don’t want to be part of whatever twisted little
experiment you’re up to!”

Riva wanted nothing more than for Emmy to
stop talking. The three people who’d seen that note were three too
many, and the last thing she needed was for there to be even more
kids running around gossiping about Riva and her failed attempt at
setting up a threesome.

“I said I was sorry.”

That didn’t seem to help. Emmy opened her
mouth again, and Riva feared she was about to launch an even more
scathing, even louder indictment. Riva held up a hand,
desperately.

“I will never speak to you again, I promise.
I was totally out of line. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can
do?”

“Oh, are you embarrassed? Feeling like
everyone is looking at you? Wondering about your personal life?
Good. Now you’ve gotten a five-minute taste of what it feels like
to be me. Every. Single. Day.” Emmy stormed off, her hip catching a
desk at the end of the row and dragging it a foot before she jerked
herself free of it.

Riva stared after her. She was so horrified,
she’d gone numb. It was hard to think straight or figure out what
to do next. She had another class to get to, but she was so upset,
she couldn’t remember which one it was.

Emmy had always seemed so together, so
comfortable with herself. Riva couldn’t believe she felt the way
she did. Riva would have given anything to rewind time and do
something different. She wished she hadn’t hit that sore spot of
Emmy’s—and she really wished the entire French class hadn’t seen
what had just happened.

“Riva, may I speak with you for a moment?” It
was Madame Bellamy, coming towards her.

Riva normally loved talking with her, but
that was because a conversation with her favorite teacher usually
involved receiving compliments and discussing how she ought to
consider studying in Paris at some point in her school career. Riva
took one look at the wrinkles of consternation creasing Madame
Bellamy’s already serious face and fled the classroom at top
speed.

As if things couldn’t have gotten worse, she
was crying. Now the people in the hall also knew something had
happened. Riva ducked into the nearest bathroom and stared at
herself in the mirror. Her mascara was running, but that could be
fixed. What she didn’t know how to repair was the mess she’d just
made of her entire life.

* * * *

Daisy Mejia tried to pretend she wasn’t
hanging on every part of the weird interaction between Emmy Barnes
and Riva Corley. It didn’t matter that everyone else was totally
watching. Daisy had always been careful not to pay too much
attention to either of those girls. Even if she might have liked to
be friends with Emmy, she’d always feared that getting close to a
girl who was out might make people notice things about her, like
that she’d never had a boyfriend. As for Riva—well, Daisy always
handled her crushes with total avoidance. She barely let herself
look
at Riva, even when her whole being ached to, and the
idea of talking to Riva basically made Daisy want to explode.

Daisy’s best friend, Jo Quang, finished
packing up her advanced French books and came around from behind
Madame Bellamy’s desk, never taking her gaze off Riva and Emmy. She
grinned at Daisy. “Something was going on with them for the whole
last half of class,” she whispered, leaning in so no one else could
hear. “Did you see?”

Do not blush
, Daisy ordered herself.
Her skin was dark enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed,
but Jo knew everything about her. Everything, that is, except for
that one really important thing she’d never told anybody, which
Daisy absolutely could not let Jo know and which meant there was no
way she could stand here and talk about Riva Corley.

She shrugged. “Madame Bellamy gave me a bunch
of papers to grade. I wasn’t really looking.”

That, at least, was true. Just about every
day, Daisy regretted letting Jo talk her into signing up to be
Madame Bellamy’s student aide. She didn’t even take French, and
despite Jo going on about how fun it would be to sit at the side of
the class together while Jo worked on her advanced independent
study, Jo actually cared about this class and didn’t have time to
slack off and hang out with Daisy. That left Daisy doing whatever
busy work Madame Bellamy could come up with and desperately
resisting the urge to make her crush obvious to all of French III
by staring constantly at Riva Corley. She’d gotten pretty good at
keeping her eyes on Madame Bellamy’s paperwork for seventy-five
minutes straight and twisting her head to the left, away from Riva,
if she did need to look up.

Emmy’s strained, pissed-off tone made
everyone in the room turn toward her and Riva now. Daisy had never
seen Emmy so angry, but, of course, that wasn’t what drew Daisy’s
eye. Riva looked miserable, on the verge of tears, but her
vulnerability made her even more beautiful to Daisy. Riva seemed so
perfect so much of the time that Daisy couldn’t envision what to do
if she did ever find herself alone with her. What could they talk
about? How could Daisy approach her? Now that Riva’s full, coppery
lips were trembling, Daisy imagined herself swooping in, asking
what was wrong, offering to comfort her. Maybe Riva would want a
ride somewhere—to an ice cream place, a park, whatever—and Daisy
could tell her she’d just bought a car over winter break. Then
Daisy could listen to whatever Riva had to say and also finally be
free to look at her soft, round face while she spoke.

Emmy stomped out of the classroom, just about
snapping a desk in half in the process, and slammed the door behind
her.

Jo nudged Daisy. “Wow. I did not know Riva
Corley was gay.”

“Huh?” Daisy had been so busy fantasizing
that she hadn’t processed anything Emmy and Riva had been saying.
Was Riva Corley actually gay?
If so, Daisy was going to have
to light a candle the next time she was in church, because the god
of closeted lesbian teenagers had apparently answered her most
fervent prayers.

“Were you not listening to that?”

Jo tucked a strand of straight, shiny black
hair behind one delicate ear. Daisy recognized the performance
element of the gesture and figured the display of perfect grooming
was for the benefit of some boy on the other side of the room. Yup.
Jo was looking at a spot just past Daisy’s shoulder.

Daisy normally smiled indulgently and waited
for Jo’s attention to return to her. Jo was boy-crazy enough for
both of them, and Daisy half-hoped people would read her as
straight by association. This conversation, however, was way too
significant to be put on the back burner so Jo’s crush of the week
could claim a spot up front.

Daisy waved a hand in front of Jo’s face.
“Stay with me for a second here,” she whispered urgently. “What
makes you think…um, about Riva, how did you…”

Daisy braved a glance in Riva’s direction.
She had frozen when Emmy stalked off, tears brimming in her eyes.
Daisy wanted to go to her, but now she
really
didn’t know
what she would say.

Hey, does being out of the closet suck as
much as being in it does? Because that’s my biggest fear. Want to
go secretly make out?

Jo rolled her eyes. “Daisy, I swear. You know
nothing
about lesbians.”

Jo didn’t know how right she was. Despite
being one, Daisy had no idea whatsoever how to go about her life.
Emmy seemed so certain of herself. Did she sign up for a mailing
list when she came out that hooked her up with all the key
information, or had she been born with special knowledge? Daisy’s
late-night Internet searches and secret viewings of
I Can’t
Think Straight
had left her with more questions than
answers.

She sighed. “Enlighten me.”

“Emmy was mad that Riva wanted to
‘experiment’ with her. It’s obvious, right? ‘Experiment’ is code
for…whatever lesbians do with each other.”

Jo’s attitude irritated Daisy, but she tried
to remind herself that she couldn’t take it personally since she’d
never told Jo how personal it was. It probably wasn’t a good idea
to shoot back, but Daisy couldn’t resist a small comment.

“And what do you call whatever you’re
planning to do with that person you’re eyeballing over my
shoulder?”

Jo batted her eyelashes and grinned, her lip
gloss shimmering. “I am way past the experimental phase.” She put
her hands on her hips and gave a little shimmy. “This is
market-tested and ready to go.”

“Wow.”

That earned a giggle from Jo, and Daisy
laughed along uncomfortably. Daisy avoided conversations about boys
because she didn’t think she could manage them without giving
herself away, so Jo thought she was a prude. That wasn’t it
exactly, but Jo did seem so adult and experienced sometimes. Daisy
couldn’t help wondering how far she’d gone and how she felt about
it.

The door to the classroom slammed again.

“Ooh, check that out,” Jo said. “Riva’s going
after her. Or something.”

“Yeah?” Daisy pretended to glance casually in
the direction Riva had gone. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you go see?” Jo
giggled again like she was kidding, but there was something to
that. Daisy’s throat clenched.

Could she actually follow Riva? What about
her carefully guarded secret?

Jo caught Daisy’s sleeve. “He’s coming over
here. Can you clear out? I’ll text you if I still need to ride home
with you later.”

Daisy shook her head. Jo worked fast, and her
confidence was supreme. Another time, Daisy might have lingered, or
argued with Jo that she shouldn’t angle for a ride home with a boy
she barely knew. She probably still should. Friends did stuff like
that for each other.

On the other hand, Jo had just given her the
best push she was ever going to get to talk to Riva Corley in the
flesh, for real.

“Yeah,” Daisy said, grabbing her stuff. “I
just remembered I…need something from my locker.”

Now that she’d decided to follow Riva, Daisy
worried she’d taken too long. She rushed out the door and glanced
frantically up and down the hall. For a second, it seemed she was
out of luck. She didn’t see Riva’s familiar green backpack receding
in any direction. Then a flicker of motion caught her eye, and she
noticed the heel of a leather sandal just as the girls’ bathroom
door swung shut.

If that had been anyone but Riva, Daisy
wouldn’t have stood a chance of recognizing her from that brief
glimpse. For all the time she spent avoiding looking at Riva,
though, Daisy had somehow memorized the complete catalog of her
clothing. She had absorbed, as if by osmosis, every fold of Riva’s
heel and freckle on her cheek. She took a deep breath and headed
for the bathroom.

Daisy pushed open the door just as someone
else was heading out. The girl smirked and inclined her head toward
the still miserable Riva. Daisy nodded awkwardly and pressed
inside. It was close enough to the next bell that the bathroom was
now empty except for her and Riva, and likely to stay that way—at
least until the deans came through to check for people trying to
cut class.

Gathering every shred of courage she
possessed, Daisy turned toward Riva and offered a tentative
smile.

The moment just about did her in. Riva was
much lighter than Daisy, but just too dark to be fully white. She
wore video game T-shirts with sandals and capri pants, her outfits
sort of declaring that she didn’t care, but decorated with enough
girly touches to contradict that impression. Her short black hair
was meticulously styled into the controlled waves of a twenties
flapper, and she had big, dark eyes that both thrilled and
frightened Daisy. Riva was obviously smart, and Daisy worried
sometimes exactly how much Riva saw.

Riva met Daisy’s scrutiny defiantly, though
her eyes were red. Her flowing tears carried streaks of mascara
down her face, washing away her foundation in the process. “Look,
if you came here to laugh at me, you had plenty of time to do that
in the classroom.”

Daisy shook her head. “No. I—”

“I’m not going to tell you anything,
either.”

Though she hoped Riva would change her mind,
Daisy understood the sentiment. If she’d been outed in front of the
entire French class, she wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it
either. The fantasy she’d had earlier returned to her mind, and
inspiration struck. She fished her keys out of her purse and showed
Riva the Honda logo on one of them.

“I came to see if you want to get out of
here.”

She usually did this with Jo, but she went
alone often enough that her best friend wouldn’t be suspicious.
Besides, Jo really seemed to think she had that boy on lock. Daisy
doubted she’d be texting for a ride later.

Riva’s eyebrows climbed. “Like, totally
out?”

“Yeah. Wherever you want to go.”