It makes CJ smile, this role reversal. He’s her little sheepdog, rounding them all up to make sure they’re home and settled as one. ‘Of course I will,’ she says.
Once he’s gone, the threesome chat does not abate.
‘Todd and I have discussed this at length,’ Miguel says, ‘and our conclusion is that you like her.Likelike her.’
CJ baulks. ‘Ash?’ she says. ‘No.’
‘You do, babe,’ Todd says. ‘You should definitely explore that. You have obviously noticed that she’s hot.’
CJ blinks. ‘She’s very pretty, yes.’
‘And funny,’ says Miguel.
‘And you’re spending alotof time with her,’ says Todd.
‘And talk about her like, all the time. You’ve got mentionitis. You look for any excuse to say her name,’ adds Miguel.
‘I have a new friend!’ says CJ. ‘I’m straight, remember?’
‘Is anyonereallystraight?’ asks Todd.
‘And you did once tell me you can only get off to girl-on-girl porn,’ comments Miguel.
CJ looks to Todd, whose face confirms this is absolutely not news to him. There are seriously no secrets in this house.
‘Lesbian porn is the only porn that properly centres femalepleasure,’ CJ explains, calmly. ‘Hetero porn always just feels so … mean. Somebody always has to get choked or spanked.’
‘Are you sure you’ve never even kissed a girl?’ asks Todd. ‘I thought all women messed around with one another in college.’ He catches his Americanism. ‘Sorry.University.’
‘I kissed a girl at a party when I was about sixteen, is that what you want me to confess?’ asks CJ.
‘Yes, actually,’ says Miguel. ‘And how did it feel?’
‘Wet,’ says CJ.
‘Way-ho!’ sing-songs Todd.
CJ rolls her eyes. That isn’t what she meant. ‘So what,’ she presses. ‘Because I’ve noticed Ash has a nice arse, I should shag her?’
Todd and Miguel shrug in unison.
CJ doesn’t know what to say. She’s shaking her head, looking back and forth between them, half amused and half … not curious. Curious isn’t the right word. Or is it? This budding friendship, it’s all so new to her, and in amongst the giggling and chatting and getting to know you, sometimes she does, if she is truly, really, honest, think,this isn’t enough.CJ is so enjoying herself, so invested in Ash and what she thinks and says and dreams and wonders, that she could crawl inside her, live in her skin, beat onewith Ash, if that doesn’t sound too dramatic, too serial-killer-ish. (It does, she knows it does. And still.) It isn’t that CJ is in love with Ash, but she is, it would be churlish to argue against, kind of obsessed with her. Low-key.
Despite her somersaulting stomach, and in lieu of knowing what else to say to Miguel and Todd, CJ pours them allanother shot, lifts her glass and says, ‘Here’s to having a great time tonight, dickheads.’
To their credit, the boys cheer, and the three of them drink down the see-through liquid, letting it burn their throats and water their eyes, and they all pretend not to notice when a text from Ash lights up CJ’s phone.
22
Ash
If Ash had to sit down at her laptop and write the opening to a novel set at a birthday party in Lisbon, what she’d come up with wouldn’t even be half as atmospheric,redolent, as her actual real-life experience of Luis’s actual real-life fortieth.
She was going to meet CJ and her cousins beforehand so that they could all turn up together, but a mishap with her hair straighteners puts her behind schedule. Since the only thing worse than being late for an event is knowing you’re making other people late too, she texts CJ, says,hair emergency, go ahead without me. Mine’s a mojito!Once she is sorted – hair half up, half down, tied with a pale pink-coloured ribbon, matching baby-pink textured cloqué Ganni babydoll dress, deep-V front and back, so short it’s indecent, really, wedged espadrilles and a bright red clutch – she heads out into the late evening alone, map on her phone leading the way.
It’s warm enough in those first days of May that she’s a little sweaty heading up the hill, despite it being 8.30 p.m. and the sun having mostly gone down. It could be adrenaline. She feels … expectant, about tonight. She feels thisway all the time just lately. It’s just a party, but also, it is more than that. She’s been in Lisbon almost a month, and in that time everything she thought –had hoped– would happen, kind of is. She’s made friends, knows people, has taken a lover and then rejected that lover, but it didn’t kill her – in fact, surviving Luis’s fuckery and coming out of it with CJ as her ally was worth it. Her mental clarity continues, small thoughts slotting into place to help create the bigger picture of how she thinks of herself, her place in the world. She’s noticed she feels less anger towards her family, too, in the recesses of her mind, and can appreciate that the space away from them is de-centring the role she lets them play in her life at home. It’s healthy for her to have that. Things she took for granted as truths turn out to be just stubbornly held opinions, and releasing them is giving way to all sorts of new information. Fucking look at her, on the way to a birthday party, entering alone, knowing she will find friendly faces on the other side of the door, happy to see her, thrilled to make her laugh and joyful in how she makes them laugh, too. This might be the whole point of everything. Release. Letting go. Shedding.
She double-checks the address for the party on Google, because her map has brought her to a very dramatic double-height and double-width brown gloss-painted door, which does not look like a restaurant on account of there being no signage, tables, chairs, staff or customers. But Luis’s e-vite with the street number says 41, and this is 41, so she knocks uncertainly on the door, letting out a scared-sounding ‘Hello?’
