If I Should Be Quite Honest

12

"What a bitch!" Carla says in biology, after I tell her what Ren said to me this morning. "Are you ok?"
I shrug. I will be. "I try not to think about it."
Carla makes a face, "Sisters." She said this with a touch of malice. Her own sister pissed her off more than Grayson's parents pissed him off, but I never heard Carla really complain about it as much. The difference was, that Carla didn't do up dramatics when it came to her family, like Grayson. And Carla did not have as many options as Grayson, nor a car like Grayson, nor a need to bombard me within saves me's like Grayson, as if I could, as if I do up Spider-Man in my free time. "Do you think Ren's fucked?"
I shrug, even though that question surprised me. And made me feel gross.
It's not something I think is legal to think about. Your siblings having sex.
All I knew is what they told me. If they had had sex, they hadn't done it at home. I was pretty certain.
They hadn't told me anything.
But now, they all knew my business.
"Whatever the situation is," I say, "She's clearly not getting enough, cos she's been extra bitchy."
"Wow," Carla replies, writing down an answer I know is wrong, so I swap papers with her. She smiles, writing down an answer she does know on mine. "So what are you gonna do about Saturday?"
"Meet his parents," I say. "I don't care what Ren says."
"And?"
I look at her, "What do you think?"
"Let him know if you aren't comfortable."
"I will," I say. I have no problem with it now. I had lived my life consisting of being quiet and accepting inconsistencies and discomfort. But now, I had to stop that. If not slowly. I liked taking things slowly. It gave you more time to asses things.
"Good," she nods, scribbling, "Ain't no one gonna fuck with you as long as I'm around."
And I smiled at her like a fool. She squeezed my face and told me I was looking cute today, like friends did, even if you looked like utter shite, and my heart did that glowing thing, like a tiny sun, radiating within.

"What should I wear on Saturday?" I ask Taron, when he opens his maths book at break. He frowns.
"Clothes?"
I raise a brow, "You know what I mean."
"Wear what you want. They just wanna meet you, cos I told them about you."
"What did you say?"
"That I was seeing you."
"Oh. Should I wear jeans?"
"Wear jeans if you want to, Tate," he chuckled.
"A dress?" I didn't have a dress. Well, actually. I had last worn a dress at prom which I had wanted to donate promptly after but Haven told me to keep it tor "memories sake," even though my distinct memory in it was throwing up at Jake's party, and before that, only funny little pinafores, when I was like five?
I wasn't about to wear my prom dress, but I'd wear it if it would please his parents. I was feeling even more nervous about it now.
He looked at me, "You're making this really hard for yourself."
"Sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he says, "Just wear what you'd normally wear if you're going out."
"Ok." I think on it, watching him write some things down.
He gets them right.
My smart guy.

I find Jae as I'm walking to the toilet during the second lesson of biology today, walking down the halls aimlessly.
"Where you going?" I ask.
He flinched a little, but stared straight through me, looking like a ghost. "Are you gonna be sick?"
"Nah," he says, "Just going back to admin, innit."
"Is everything ok, g?" I ask.
He smiled, "Yeah," he gives my hand a little nudge with his, and walks past me, hands in pockets. That little nudge gave me all the reassurance I needed that nothing between us had changed. He was still my brother and he didn't see me any differently. I could tell.
I wait, just to make sure he's going where he said he would. He does, making a right fit the office, and then I go to the toilet.
I wash my hands and walk back to lesson.

Taron's waiting for me after school in the car park, head buried in his maths book. I pull it down, "What's going on?"
"I'm trying to revise for the mock. You should be too,"
"I'll take your suggestion into consideration," I smile.
"Thanks," he smirks, touching his forehead to mine, "Glad to see that my opinion matters that much to you."