Page 64 of Nobody in Particular

“And you were looking at her the same way.”

I wave a hand. “Just listening to the speech.”

“I had some weird comments on that post you asked me to put up of you.”

“People on the internet can be weird.”

“There’s a couple of people who were convinced you and Rose were…”

“Someone thought the same about you, once,” I spit out, way too defensively. “I saw it on a forum somewhere. They thought you and Rose were dating.”

Molly blinks. “What? Where?”

“I know you and Rose never dated,” I say quickly. “But that’s my point. It’s funny what people will come up with, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh,” Molly says flatly. She checks for potential eavesdroppers, then meets my eyes. “And what aboutyouand Rose?”

“What about us?” I ask weakly.

Molly keeps her eyes locked on me. “You can tell me to piss off if you want,” she says. “I know I’m crossing a major boundary right now, and it’s none of my business.”

She doesn’t say “but,” but I hear it anyway. And I have to figure out what to say,fast,because saying nothing is as good as outing Rose. And denying it? Am I that good an actor? Or will I basically out Rose through my sheer panic? Door A sucks, and door B sucks, and the longer I take to pick one the less likely she’ll believe whatever I do say.

“It’s not me and Rose,” I say. “It’s just me.”

And there. Just like that, it’s out in the world again. Now three living people know I’m not straight. And, surprisingly, it doesn’t feel as scary as I thought it would. Maybe because I trust Molly, more than most people I’ve ever met. Maybe because Molly made it clear the day I met her she doesn’t have a problem with sapphics. But even still, this is big. It’s big, and it’s done, and she doesn’t seem freaked out at all. I did it.

Ididit.

I can tell right away Molly believes me, from the way her face softens and her eyebrows shoot up. So, encouraged, I lie some more. “I’ve liked her for a while, and I told her last month, and she didn’t feel the same, and it hurt my feelings, so I told her I wanted some space for a while. I thought if I didn’t see her as much I’d get over it, but I haven’t gotten over it. And I’m pretty sure she’s mad at me for ending our… friendship. So, it’s all sort of on me for ending it to begin with, and I’ve just hurt both of us, but I don’t know how to take it back.”

It’s so good to get it out. And even though half of it is bullshit, the gist of it is still there.

“Why do you think she’s mad at you?” Molly asks.

“She’s pretty much acting like I don’t exist.”

Molly leans in, and she looks serious and apologetic all at once. “Look, I don’t mean this to hurt your feelings, or make it harder for you, but Rose shuts people out. Easily. She doesn’t care if she’s hurting you, she only cares about herself, and what she wants, and what’s best for her. So don’t… don’t think you need to figure out how to make it up to her. It’s not a crime to have feelings for someone, and it shouldn’t have had to mean the end of your friendship. And if you asked to end it, it’s obviously because you were hurt. Someone who cared would’ve given you some time to cool off, and then they would’ve reached back out. But shedoesn’tcare.”

“Yes she does. I just—”

“Shedoesn’t care,” Molly repeats. “Trying to drag empathy out of Rose is like hoping a dictator softens up on their own. Hoping for it will only hurt you more in the long run.”

I think about how weirdly calm and detached Rose has been. Ignoring me, looking past me, the way she shut down when I ended things with her in that eerily calm way. I can see why Molly feels the way she does, I really do. And Molly’s known Rose basically her whole life, so maybe she’s right, and I’m wrong.

But Rose smoked weed a few weeks ago afterpromisingshe wouldn’t anymore. And Rose has thrown herself into whatever this thing is with Alfie. And Rose barely took her eyes off me just now while she pressed right up against him. I’m not arguing Rose is being saintly here. But is she uninterested? Unaffected? Totally fine? I find that hard to believe.

Also, something’s been bugging me. A memory of mine.

“I’ve told you how I was bullied last year,” I say. “It went on for a while. At first I cried, a lot. But one day I stopped crying. It’s like I used up all my tears and I just felt numb for a long time. I went inside myself. It helped me get through the worst of the bullying, but it also meant it took my mom ages to figure out I needed help. Because I looked like I was doing okay.”

Molly sighs. “I see where you’re going with this, but—”

“I don’t think she acts okay because sheisokay,” I cut her off. “I think she acts like this when she isn’t.”

Molly gives me a pitying look, which, to be honest, I resent a little. “Are you sure that’s not just what you want to believe?” she asks.

I stare her down. “Maybe,” I say. “But areyousure you haven’t been too hard on her?”

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