Shut Up And Kiss Me (gxg)

50. F*ck Music

      OLIVIA, MONROE AND I WON second place at the Battle of the Bands. Our band was named, officially, Intellectual Olive Oil. After the general vibes of Ancient Greece (and also for their general gayness). 

      The goal for March was: Embarrass yourself in front of the whole school. Aaron asked Brady out on a date, radio blaring from the stadium bleachers. Cody took his shirt off, got down on both knees on the track field, and asked the gym teacher to marry him. Skylar stole Mrs. Winter's car and drove it through the baseball fence, windows rolled down and I'm A Single Lady playing.

      As for me . . . I invited Monroe to Bora Bora with me. 

     On the announcement speakers.

     Thankfully, she said yes.

     Now, she held my hand as the airplane hit a patch of turbulence. My seatbelt rattled, tugging hard on my chest, and my fingers squeezed hers tightly. 

    It was my first time on a plane. I couldn't stop my heart from pounding every time the floor of the plane even pulsed. From beside me, Monroe nodded at me reassuringly, her green eyes winking impossibly bright in the light of the window next to her. Wow. I momentarily forgot about airplane crashes.

    "You're so beautiful," she told me.

    I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore my stuttering heartbeat. "That's gay," I whispered.

    She leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose. "I love you."

    "Gross. Are you a homosexual?" I kissed her, tugging her bottom lip between my teeth. "I'm sorry, I just don't believe in that lifestyle." 

    Monroe smiled against my mouth. "From now on, my behaviour will be strictly straight."

   MONROE'S BEHAVIOUR LATER behaviour was not, in fact, strictly straight.

   Actually, as soon as the plane landed, she took my face in her hands and kissed me. And then, after we'd collected our luggage, she took mine even though I protested, refusing to let me hold anything at all. 

    We were still arguing about it when Aunt Whitney and Elena got to the airport in a pink convertible. Elena was holding up a sign in the passenger seat, her face flushed and her hair disheveled, and Aunt Whitney, suspiciously bright-eyed and red-cheeked.

    "Talia!"  cried Aunt Whitney, parking her car by the curb with a screech of tires. "Oh, baby! I missed you! How are you?"

    She got out of the car and hurried towards me in flip-flops and a sundress, wrapping me up in her arms without a second thought. Her enormous bundle of curly red hair pressed into my face, and I nearly choked on the soft, bouncy strands. She smelled faintly like honey and tea leaves. 

    When she pulled back, hands on my shoulders, she eyed me from top to bottom. 

    "What's different? Did you cut your hair? Your face looks so . . ." She narrowed her eyes. "You look so . . ."

    "Happy, darling, is what she means to say." Elena handed Whitney the enormous poster━it said WELCOME TO BORA BORA, TALIA AND MONROE━and hugged me tightly. She looked the same as she had at Claudia's birthday: short, shiny blonde hair, and tall enough that she had to bend over to reach me. "You look happy, Tal. Where's your friend?"

     "My friend?" I blinked. I'd texted them I was bringing a friend named Monroe, but━

     "Hi," said Monroe. She must have gotten it before I did: They had assumed my "friend" was a boy. Monroe was a unisex name, after all. "I'm Talia's friend."