Page 70 of WASP

“Sounds perfect. Do you mind driving?” Annie smiled weakly, handing her keys over before sliding into the passenger seat.

The thirteen-minute drive between Annie’s parents’ house and Max’s apartment passed in silence. The two of them quietly occupying the same confined space. Max didn’t want to push conversation, not knowing the ways Annie liked to work through deeper feelings. So she hung back and let Annie guide them.

They arrived at her apartment as the sun was beginning to set. The post-storm hues were vibrant against the still-dark clouds, sending streaks of crimson and magenta flooding through the sky. The last sliver of sun wavering for a moment before dipping below the horizon.

“You know,” Max said in a tantalizing tone, attempting to entice Annie. “I get a pretty good view of the town fireworks from my steps, if that’s your thing.”

The pair got out of the car, Max retrieving Annie’s bag from the back seat, holding out her hand as they made their way up the flagstone steps dotted with little American flags Lynn had set out for the holiday.

Annie hummed. “I do love fireworks.”

“I had a hunch. It’s great because I’m far enough away from town that you don’t really hear all the loud explosions; you just get the pretty fireworks, which in my opinion is the ideal viewing experience.”

Annie giggled at her as they entered the apartment, Max setting her bag on the bench inside the door.

She moved into the living room, returning a moment later with her arms full of throw pillows and a blanket from the living room couch, setting up a firework-viewing seat on the top landing of her stairs. She carefully situated herself, leaving room for Annie to sit between her legs and lean back against her.

Annie sighed deeply, more of her weight settling against Max’s torso as she supported her, placing a soft kiss to her shoulder. They sat together like that, breathing with each other, watching dark indigo spread across the sky, pushing away the remaining remnants of daylight.

“How much of my conversation with my mom did you overhear?” Annie asked when the last of the pinks had faded.

“Not much,” Max responded quickly, wanting Annie to know she hadn’t been eavesdropping on purpose.

“But enough?”

Max nodded. “Enough,” she confirmed, pulling Annie closer as she shifted her weight.

Nine o’clock hit, the first firework shooting into the sky, exploding in a thousand pops of colors raining down in streaky lines.

“See, I told you I had a great view,” Max whispered, her smile pressing against Annie’s cheek as more fireworks were sent high into the sky, bursting in vibrant pinks, yellows, greens, and blues.

“You should have led with this. Would have gladly skipped that party to stay here all night with you, just the two of us.”

Max inhaled deeply, sadness filling her as she remembered the words she had overheard Colleen saying to Annie. “Yeah, but then what fun would that have been? I wouldn’t have gotten such an amazing opportunity to know you on a deeper level.” She squeezed her arms around Annie, loving the way their bodies fit together so perfectly.

“Still like what you see?”

“I love what I see.” Max gulped, aware that, once again, an opportunity to tell Annie how she really felt was presenting itself, and this time she had no intention of letting it pass. “Because I love you.”

Annie stilled against her, the faint clap of fireworks echoing in the distance before she twisted in Max’s lap, bringing a hand to cup her cheek, eyes searching Max’s for any sign of doubt or hesitation. She would find none because Max felt none of that—only the way her heart beat for Annie.

“I love you, too,” Annie whispered, kissing her in a way that said everything else her four-word response couldn’t.

SEVENTEEN

ANNIE

The low vibration of the window AC unit in Max’s bedroom hummed with an insect-like persistence, the noise mixing with the remnants of Annie’s dream still caught in her inbetween state of waking and sleeping. Morning light poured through the window wedged open by the aforementioned appliance pumping chilled air into the bedroom.

After the first time Annie slept over on a summer night, they learned that Max’s tiny bedroom, coupled with Annie’s propensity to run warm, made for one sweaty sleep. The next time she had stayed over, Annie noticed that the window unit that typically lived in the front room had been moved back into the bedroom, with Max simply saying that if she were cold, she’d bundle up because it was important to her that Annie got a good night’s sleep.

The reminder of Max’s thoughtfulness caused a lazy smile to spread across her cheeks. Rolling over, her hand stretched across empty raspberry pink bedsheets, resting on the spot where Max had been. She sighed, still smiling as she sat up, stretching her arms overhead and bending her torso into a half-moon shape. For the two weeks since her parents’ Fourth of July party, Annie had spent her nights bouncing between her brother’s house and Max’s cozy bedroom.

Annie had been the first to propose she stay with her brother while she figured out what to do about her parents. She didn’t want Max to feel like she was trying to move in sneakily—no, that was a question Annie very much wanted to have a more serious, planned conversation about. So until that time, this plan was working. It was a comfortable, albeit temporary, rhythm that Annie wanted to make more permanent.

Jingling keys and the sound of the front door sticking on its hinges alerted Annie to her girlfriend’s return. Max, she had been surprised to learn, went for a run most mornings. The mental image of Max in a tight sports bra and shorter-than-short running shorts, glistening with the finest sheen of sweat, flashed through her mind.

The bathroom door opened and closed, the distinct whistling of the old pipes following. Annie slipped out of bed, grabbing the comfy clothes she knew Max preferred to wear around the apartment while getting ready for work.