“Just congratulating me,” I say unnecessarily. “And he says Ms. Caroll would be proud.” I don’t know why I’m feeling the need to tell him what exactly Kevin texted. It’s not like I have anything to hide or—
“Ms. Caroll?”
Shit. I haven’t ever toldTed about Ms. Caroll. I mean, not that it’s a big deal. It just hasn’t come up.
“She’s my science teacher from seventh grade. She was the one who convinced me to go into that career in the first place,” I say. It was more than that, too. She was the only black teacher I’d had to that point, and learning from that smart, confident, science-minded black woman had been a revelation.
Not that my mom isn’t strong and smart, but she’s always had a more artistic bent than I have. And there weren’t a lot of black people in our overwhelmingly-white area of Denver (there still aren’t), so it was huge to see a professional black woman who was so much like I wanted to be.
Kevin totally understood. I’m not sure thatTed would, not in the same way. Which maybe isn’t fair. It’s not like he doesn’t understand racial issues at all—he’s a white guy dating a black girl, which comes with its own micro-aggressive societal judgment.
But it’s different if you haven’t lived it your whole life.
Ted looks back out at the road, the wipers squeaky as they brush off the falling snow. “Nice,” he says. “I bet shewouldbe proud.”There’s something off about the way he says it, though, and I consider telling him about all that anyway. Maybe he would get it. Just because we haven’t talked much about racial stuff—
My phone buzzes again in my hand.
Just so you know, my coffee mug at the studio left a ring stain and just as I saw that, Shane plugged in the amp and it fritzed and made this loud static sound and I nearly pissed myself and I blame you.
Immediately after that, there’s a gif of the freaky chick crawling out of the television inThe Ring, which we watched last night. And then a gif of a dude hyperventilating into a paper bag.
I laugh, imagining it. My fingers automatically go to start texting back,I told you so, but then I stop, because I noticeTed looking over at me, and I shove my phone back in my pocket. Not because it’s Kevin texting, but just because it’s rude to be texting friends in general while I’m on a date.
“Was that still Kevin?”Ted asks. Not accusingly, but there’s still that slightly off quality to his tone.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “He got freaked out today because I made him watchThe Ringlast night. Which, for being a PG-13 movie, is one of the scarier ones out there. I think he cussed more during that movie than I’ve ever heard him—”
“Wait, you watched it with him?”Ted very carefully turns the car across a snow-covered intersection. “Isn’t he in LA?”The blinker sounds extra loud in the beat of silence.
Um.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yes.To both.” I feel my palms sweating a bit in my gloves. Which is ridiculous. I can watch a movie with a friend. “We Skype during movies sometimes so we can watch them together.”
“Huh,”Ted says. “Okay.”
It doesn’t sound particularly okay. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” he says, though he squints out at the road, like he has to think about it. “I mean, not necessarily. How often do you guys text and stuff?”
I feel my hackles rise. “Text andstuff?”
“Text, talk. Watch movies over Skype.”
“I don’t know.” I can hear my voice growing sharper. “I don’t exactly keep a log.”
Ted flicks another glance over to me. “Right. But you must have, like, a ballpark figure.”
“I don’t—” I feel myself flushing. “Why does it matter? I watch movies with friends. I watched a movie with Leigh last week.”
I’m reacting way too much to this, I know it, but I can’t seem to stop.
Ted nods slowly. “Yeah, I know. Because you told me about that.”
I want to snap that I just told him about watching the movie with Kevin last night, but we both know I didn’t tell him before that on purpose. My mouth feels too dry; why haven’t I told him any of this? I’m not doing anything wrong being friends with Kevin.
Am I?
“We text a lot,” I say, trying not to shift too uncomfortably in my seat. “Pretty much every day. And we talk a lot. But—” I shake my head. “I told you he was my friend. My best friend. You know that.”
