Page 100 of High Season

“Hey, there’s a party on the beach in a couple of days,” Tamara says. “A bonfire thing. It’s going to be fun. You should come.”

Josie turns to look at her.

“You want me there?”

“Yeah,” Tamara says. “I want you there. I want more of this.”

A half breath passes between them, long enough for Tamara’s heart to skitter.

“Me too.”

Me too. Another thing that feels almost, but not quite, like everything Tamara wants to tell Josie.

A promise that perhaps Josie feels the same way, too.

In that moment, Tamara thinks about the morning swims, the secret birthdays. The years of loving Josie in a way that feels bigger than the way she has ever loved anyone else.

She sees how Josie is looking right at her now, her gaze holding steady,the silence and the stillness. Her mouth, still wet from her perfect dive. There is only a half inch of water between them.

Before Tamara can let herself think about what she is doing she is leaning in, closing the impossibly small gap between them. Josie doesn’t move. Tamara sees the friendship bracelets. That small, silver heart. The way that Josie is the only person who doesn’t see the bad twin who lurks inside Tamara, the only one who believes that there is some essential goodness within her. Something that Tamara can almost believe herself, when the two of them are together. When Josie says her name.

There’s a strange, shocking moment when their lips meet. Their bodies, slippery with water, their stomachs pressed together. Tamara, easing Josie’s mouth open. The unexpected flicker of her tongue.

Then, Josie’s hands, pressing against Tamara’s arms. The gentle firmness as she pulls away.

“Tamara,” she is saying.

She’s still so close that Tamara can feel the heat of her breath.

“Tamara,” Josie says. “I’m not… sorry.”

And just like that, Tamara’s world falls down around her.

She draws back. Josie looks almost pained, blinking water out of her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she is saying.

Tamara feels too hot all of a sudden, in spite of her soaked-through skin.

“You’re not what?”

Josie sounds almost apologetic.

“Well. You know. I’m straight.”

“Yeah, me too.” Tamara can hear the defensiveness in her voice.

Josie frowns.

“Then why did you…”

“Because,” Tamara cuts across her. “I thought it’d be funny. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

There’s a pause. A silence as Tamara feels her lie fill up the space between them.

“Tamara,” Josie says. “It’s OK if you’re…”

“I’m not.”