“Still enjoying it?” Jen asks me, pouring her smoothie into a tall glass.
“Yes. Being around Loretta has already taught me so much. I don’t think it’s too presumptuous to think that this time next year I’ll be in Heather’s shoes, debuting my own show.”
“And what about the… what was it again? Jingle all the gay?” She takes a long sip.
I giggle. “No, but that’s a good one too. Operation Merry and Gay.”
“How’s that going?”
“Just got off the phone with Ev. Her ex was around and we had a flirty little chat.” I waggle my eyebrows and reach above Jen’s head for a mug. “She’s going to stop by the gallery later today with dinner. Do the rounds with my co-workers.”
Jen’s eyes turn judgy and cold as she slurps back more smoothie.
I glare right back playfully until she softens. “It’s really not that bad of an idea.” Jen and Leah both made their thoughts on the plan perfectly clear when I announced the arrangement to them the morning after it was decided upon. I believe Leah said something along the lines of,“this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You should just come shoot weddings with me. The money is good and you don’t have to lie to everyone to do it.” She flourishes with a long, judgy sip.
“I love how much you enjoy it, Jen, but that’s just not what I want to do.”
“She wants to be Loretta Stole!” Leah shouts from the living room, apparently back from running errands. She drops two grocery bags on the dining table, picks some items out, and then comes towards the fridge to slot a few green juices inside. “Plus, maybe she isn’t lying. Perhaps our dear Clara is realising she wants a taste of Evan’s goodies.”
Both Jen and I groan.
Leah stands straight, aghast. “Oh please… I’m just saying once you try pus—”
“What Leah is trying to say, indelicately,” Jen raises her hand to shush Leah, “maybe don’t knock it until you try it?”
“Have you? Tried it?” Leah asks me, arms crossed. “Considered it?”
“Because it’s not like you’re ever bringing guys around either,” Jen adds matter-of-factly.
I shrug, pouring myself coffee from the pot. Leah hands me the creamer without having to ask then shuts the door with her hip. “You know me, I’m just not… all that interested in romance. I’ve had one thing on my mind for a decade. Finish school, work for Loretta, be the next great photographer. I follow the plan.”
I raise my mug to take a sip and hopefully end this conversation when Leah comes out swinging. “Are you a virgin?”
I damn near do a spit take. “No.” I choke. “No, thanks for checking.”
“Did you… enjoy it?” Jen asks hesitantly.
“I mean, I guess?” I wince. “It was fine.”
“I, for one, love when my sexual partners describe our love-making asfine.” Jen shakes her head, laughing softly to herself.
“I was in my head the whole time! Wondering what he was thinking about, how I looked, how I felt to him, if I was doing it right, if I’d locked my door, if I should pretend to finish, if—”
“Dear god,” Leah whispers.
“Is that… bad?”
“No,” Jen says firmly. “No, of course not.”
“Can I ask you something?” Leah leans back onto the counter, crossing one leg around the other. I wave her on. “When you’re walking down the street—do you check people out? Do you ever think to yourselfwow, I’d love to kiss themor?”
My eyes roll upwards to the left as I begin searching my memories. I’ve definitely thought about people’s clothes or noticed when someone would make an incredible model for work, but I’ve never wanted to kiss a stranger. Honestly, the idea of that is a little repulsive. “Not really. Do most people do that?”
“Not everyone…” Leah’s features soften. “But it could mean you’re demisexual.”
“Remind me?” I ask.
