Page 12 of Score
“Divorced.” My voice goes flat, but I keep a smile pinned in place.
She searches my face in the dim light of the porch, and I wonder what she’ll find. Not that I’ve demonstrated it at this party, but I’m usually one of those guys who seems like an open book. Most only get an abridged version. Not so much an open book as a gutted one, with only a table of contents, some of the funny parts, and if you’re lucky, a few footnotes left. Most of the story I tore out, balled up, and swallowed years ago.
“Bummer,” Verity replies. “How long ago was it?”
“My senior year in high school. So four years. It got ugly, and coming to Finley felt like an escape.”
I’ve shocked myself with how forthcoming I am, but she merely nods, all the while toying with the hem of her frothy skirt.
“Any brothers or sisters?” she asks.
“One older brother and a younger sister. They actually stayed there instead of going to college and they work with my father now.”
“What’s your father do?”
“He’s a pastor.”
Her brows go up and her pretty mouth falls open. “No way.” She recovers with a grin and leans forward, mirroring my posture and resting her elbows on her knees, too. “So are you, like, religious?”
“Not really. I believe in God. I just don’t believe in people as easily as I used to.”
Whatever is left of my faith is buried under cynicism and channeled into my music, which I still think of as a gift from God. I’m not getting into church stuff with the girl I’m both coveting and lusting over.
“Church is complicated,” she says. “My aunt Roz was super-active in our little Baptist church growing up, but when she came out and was open about having a girlfriend, they kind of kicked her out.”
“For real? I mean, I’ve seen the homophobia firsthand, of course, but to kick her out?”
“It broke her heart, but now she’s found a church that’s more accepting of her and the woman she married.”
“So I guess it wasn’t a big deal when you came out?”
“I don’t know that I ever had to come out.” Her smile is full of affection. “Aunt Roz and Aunt Grace were together when I had to go live with them. Queerness had always been normalized for me, so when my first crush was a girl, I didn’t think twice about it. And they didn’t make a big deal, like celebrate with awe got us another lesbianparty or anything.”
That catches me off guard and I bark out a laugh, which coaxes an easy smile from her.
“I honestly wasn’t even sure I liked boys, like at all,” she goes on, “until around the tenth grade.”
My smile slips at this new information. So she’s bisexual. Or maybe she just had a crush and now exclusively dates girls.
None of my business. Either way she’s still dating Petra.
I also shove away Ezekiel’s offhand comment about Petra and Verity’s open relationship. That shit gets complicated.
“What happened in the tenth grade?” I ask. “Who was the lucky guy?”
“Billy Lang.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “When I showed a picture of him to my aunt Roz, she said, ‘Girl, he white. Least let your first man be Black, then you can start making decisions about what kind of dick you want.’”
“Your aunt sounds like a riot.” I chuckle. “And wow. The brothers never stood a chance, huh?”
“It didn’t go anywhere with Billy. He just had blue eyes and blond hair and was on the football team, but it was an unrequited, short-lived love.”
“So you like athletes?”
“Not really. I go for what’s inside.”
“Oh, sure you do.” I give her a disbelieving look. “Whatever.”
“I do!” Her twitching lips spoil the fake indignation. “Not everybody’s superficial.”
