Page 43 of When I Picture You
It stuck in Lola’s throat. Renee was right. Chloedidlook happy—that’s what Lola had missed. The singer straddled Butterfly Clips on a picnic bench and leaned down to kiss her deeply, as someone yelled, “Your trailer’s right there!”
“I wonder if anyone ever said anything to her,” Lola said.
It wasn’t just that Chloe was queer. Saint Satin’s whole image was queer. Her songs were unapologetically queer, and her fans were even queerer. She got called a “queer breakout artist,” a “queer rising star.” It was that pigeonholing that Lola had been taught was dangerous: that if she strayed too far from the path of straightness, she’d get covered in the muck of her bisexuality and no one would see anything else.
But Chloe didn’t seem trapped.
Lola felt Renee watching her. “Did anyone ever say anything to you?”
Lola pressed the tab of her seltzer can against her thumbnail. “They didn’t have to. I got into the industry ten years ago. Things are probably different for her than they were for me.”
“Why can’t they be different for you too?”
Lola shrugged. “Success makes things more complicated. The stakes keep getting higher. But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? It means I’m lucky, right?”
There was a soft, sad look in Renee’s eyes. Suddenly, Lola needed Renee to agree with her, because otherwise—she wasn’t sure, but herchest had gotten tight, her pulse ticking higher as she waited for Renee to recognize that what she’d said was true.
But Renee just said, “I have an idea.”
She heaved herself off the hammock and went over to Chloe, whose side of the exchange was hyper-enthusiastic nodding. Renee came back brandishing the vape.
“Renee!” Lola cried as she dug her feet into the ground to steady the hammock for her.
Renee fell back and set them swinging again. “We’re in Colorado. It’s legal. Wait—don’t tell me you’ve never smoked weed before.”
“Of course I have. I’m not a nun.”
Renee narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure? Sometimes I get nun vibes.”
“Because God sent you here to test me?” Renee broke into a delighted smile, and Lola grinned back. “I take a gummy now and then to sleep. It’s just … we’re in public.”
“We’re surrounded by security, inside a chain-link fence, which is also surrounded by security, and we’re fifty feet from your personal bodyguard. That’s not what I call being in public.”
“There’s an entire industry set up to catch people like me in the wrong moment.”
“Lo, the only person here, other than me, who gives a fuck if you smoke weed is Saint Satin. I think she’s going to frame this vape when I give it back to her.”
Lola groaned. “She’s a fan. I’ll have Cassidy send over a gift to thank her.”
Renee took a deep pull from the vape. A froth of vapor flowed from her lips as she said, “Let no good deed go unpunished, right?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That girl could not have been happier to share this with you. You don’t need to send her an Edible Arrangement with a thank-younote.” Renee took another hit. “Anyway, if someone did leak a photo of you smoking, it would probably help your image.”
“And what image is that?”
“Uptight. No fun. Good girl.” Renee winked. “Now stop sulking, and hit this.”
THEY ROCKED INthe hammock.
The night felt crusted in sugar, the cafe lights twinkling, the woodsmoke from the fire, little bugs zipping happily through the air.
Against her, Renee was a solid weight. The hammock pressed their bodies together no matter how they lay. For stability’s sake, they’d settled on Renee on her back, with Lola curled against her side—“You’re a koala,” Renee had said. “And I’m your tree”—making them both laugh so hard they nearly flipped the thing over. One of Lola’s legs had hooked itself over Renee’s and her face was pressed against her shoulder. Renee smelled intoxicatingly like men’s deodorant and musk and salt from the long, hot day, and the sleeve of her T-shirt was rucked up.
Those arms that Lola couldn’t stop herself from staring at.
Lola slipped her hand around Renee’s bicep. Her knuckles grazed the side of Renee’s breast. She should move them.
