11 (Part Two)

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"Do you think we were that awful in seventh grade?" Chloe looked right at me as if she actually expected me to answer.

Nice try. I was in deep enough shit, as it were.

Besides, what could I say that could possibly smooth things over after what she had walked in on? The two of us seldom made small talk when Alex wasn't around and it was hard enough before she caught me looking for all the world like I was trying to dig up some dirt on her. No, it was better to stay quiet until this all blew over.

"Oh well. At least they won't be a problem next year." She shrugged, walked toward the vanity and, in one fluid motion, sat herself down facing Beth and me.

"Until the year after that," I added, "and then they're right behind us again for the next three years."

Apparently, the 'let's not piss Chloe off some more' message from my brain was still in transit and hadn't reached my mouth by this time.

"I don't like to think that far ahead." Chloe stuck out her lower, grabbed a handful of Kleenex from an embellished box behind her and began to dab at her clothes and hair, leaving shredded bits of tissue paper here and there. Only then did I notice that her blonde waves hung limp around her shoulders, down to her waist and there were damp-looking darkened splotches all over her clothes.

Naturally, I was puzzled; rain in Riverside this time of year wasn't unheard of, but it wasn't a common occurrence, either. "What happened?" I asked.

"Oh." She paused, flicking bits of white from the ends of her hair. As if on cue, color bloomed on her face and she chuckled. "Lawn sprinklers, but Seth got the worst of it. It was pretty funny."

Too bad it wasn't a rainstorm, I thought. Suddenly, I had an overwhelming desire to be struck by lightning.

"That's . . . the most romantic thing I've ever heard." My own voice sounded hollow to me.

She just shrugged; I supposed somebody who looked like Chloe Wasserman must be used to it. Like, there must be a fairy godmother working behind the scenes, providing her with at least one magical moment a day.

The mattress shifted as Beth turned to me, grimacing. "Yeah . . . is it?" she asked and then went off on a tangent about conserving water and the California drought crisis until Chloe let out an exasperated sigh.

"I'm glad at least one person in this room gets it," she said, casting Beth a pointed look.

"I'm not sure you should be glad that Adrian's getting it," Beth replied.

"Oh my God, I am not," I blurted out, unnerved by her odd phrasing. The two BFF's looked taken aback and turned to stare at me, and I cleared my throat. "How about a towel, Chloe?"

Not waiting for a response, I stood abruptly and headed to Alex's bathroom, returning promptly after I had grabbed what I came for out of a tall wire drawer.

"One's fine, thanks." Chloe gave a tight smile as she took a towel from me and then turned in her seat to face the mirror.

I laid the towel I'd been left with on the foot of the bed and chose to stay on my feet this time. How long should I stand and wait before taking my leave, I wondered.

Watching Chloe dry her hair like someone in a fabric softener commercial, I also had to wonder: how was it possible that I, who had relatively more experience barely made it out of that closet alive, while Seth went from never having played spin the bottle to kissing one of the prettiest girls in school stupid, all in a span of seven minutes?

I sighed, as I often did, in the face of great injustice.

"This doesn't bother you, does it?" Chloe turned to me. Whoops. "Because, you know, you and Seth are like brother and sister or something?"

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