“Sunny,” I say. “Sunny! That. Is. AMAZING!”
She looks up and smiles. “Yeah?”
“Hell yeah! The lesbians are lucky to have you!” I cup one hand to my ear. “I think I hear Hayley Kiyoko rejoicing at this very moment.”
Sunny laughs and swats my leg. I sit back down next to her. We’re grinning at each other at first. Then each of our smiles softens.
“I don’t think you’re a lesbian, though,” Sunny says.
“No,” I say in agreement. “I’m not. I’ll have to bring you all my gorgeous lesbian flag décor while I redecorate my room with colors from the pansexual flag. Although…I did come across aReductressarticle last week titled ‘Five Doc Marten Looks That Say, “I’m Attracted to All Women and Two Men,” ’ and that feels even more accurate at the moment.”
Sunny nods approvingly. “You do rock some very sexy Doc Marten looks.”
“Thank you,” I say. I give a silly bow.
The wind blows through the garden like a deep breath, and just like that, we’re back to the way things were before. Except we’re not, actually. Because now things between us are even better. Sunny and I are friends. We’re really, really good friends.
A small tourist group filters under the archway, taking photos of the sign, the sundial, the bust of Shakespeare set inside the stone and brick wall at the far end. I look over at Sunny.
“Maybe we should give up our bench.”
“Yeah,” Sunny says, “give someone else a turn to have their own sexual-orientation awakening.”
We leave the garden and walk back along Seventh Avenue. Sunny tugs me off the sidewalk as we pass by a coffee shop called The Beanery. I wait next to the front sandwich sign, certain that Sunny’s off to grab her second (or possibly fifth) cup of coffee for the day. But then she surprises me by pulling my wrist and leading me inside the shop behind her.
“Come on. This round’s on me.”
We find a small table in the corner, and I wait while Sunny brings our drinks over. She sits across from me, and for a moment it’s like I’m back in Lady Business with Rachel. Sunny’s so beautiful. She would be a perfect date. But she’s my friend. And my mind isn’t really here at all with this gorgeous girl—it’s fixated on a boy I’m hopelessly crazy about.
Sunny smiles wryly at me, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“So, why didn’t you find it?” she asks.
I blink at her.
“The treasure,” Sunny goes on. “Why didn’t you and Cam find it?”
“Oh.” I sit up and take a sip of my coffee. “Well, the clock installation thing was a total bust. Just like you three said it would be.”
I think of the inscription overTheGates of Hellsculpture, the oneThe Three Shadeswere all pointing to:
Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
I should have known right then that the treasure wouldn’tbe anywhere near the Legion of Honor museum. How could it? IfThe Three Shadeswere meant to be a symbol in Gilbert Baker’s drawing, they might as well have symbolized the dead opposite of Harvey Milk’s legacy.
“We were probably wrong about all of that stuff,” I say.
“Naturally,” Sunny says. She drinks her coffee and smiles. “But why did you give up?”
I give her a look. “Why do you think?”
Sunny purses her lips like she really is thinking about it. She places her index finger to her mouth in a pause, then points it at me. “Because Cam still thinks you’re a lesbian?”
“Oh, right,” I say, laughing. “I forgot. This treasure completely hinges on Cam and me figuring out our past and burying the hatchet or whatever.”
“Or digging it up,” Sunny says. She wiggles her eyebrows knowingly.
I squint at her. “No…I’m pretty sure the saying goes that you’re supposed toburythe hatchet.”
