Page 92 of When I Picture You

Renee bit down on a cuticle, wishing sharply, all of a sudden, that Kadijah would just leave her alone.

It wasn’t for the film. Just a last-minute weekend trip thing.

Then why? bc of the breakup with Nash?

Not because … you know?

Not because I know what?

The blinking dots showed Kadijah typing. Renee could practically hear the click of their acrylics on the phone screen.

If you’re gonna be in the entertainment industry you need to get on social media. I am literally begging you to download tiktok.

Micro-video offends my artistic sensibilities

See if this offends your sensibilities

The link Kadijah sent took a second to load on the website, since Renee didn’t have TikTok downloaded, but the video’s tags hinted atthe content: #LolaGBTQ #LavaTruther #lesbiansoftiktok #wlw. The creator’s username—QueerforJeanJacket—referenced the track from Lola’s first album. Renee used to think “Jean Jacket,” which was about secretly pining after a jean-jacket-clad crush, had a classic teenage Americana feel. Renee’s brain still hadn’t fully integrated the reality that she herself had bought the jean jacket in question at Target, and it was hanging in her childhood closet.

The video played. The face of QueerforJeanJacket hovered in front of a paparazzi shot of Lola and Renee, like a green screen. Renee was startled to see it: she hadn’t realized she and Lola had been photographed leaving that restaurant, where they’d grabbed dinner after a long day at Ackerlund’s studio.

“If you, like me, believe with every molecule of your being that this woman”—QueerforJeanJacket pointed to Lola in the image behind her—“is queer, then you have probably noticed that she’s been seen a lot with this woman.” She pointed to Renee. “Who is she? Let’s talk about it.”

A lump grew in Renee’s throat as QueerforJeanJacket cycled through photos of Lola that included Renee, going back all the way to Claudia’s wedding. QueerforJeanJacket theorized that Renee was not only Lola’s documentarian and childhood friend—as demonstrated with pictures from their literal high school yearbook—but also Lola’s lesbian rebound from Ava. (A separate video was coming on the theory that Nash was a beard.)

The penetrating unease caught her off guard. The photos would have felt violating in any case—Renee wasn’t used to seeing high-resolution photos of herself from such a variety of angles—but these specific photos seemed to chart the course of how she’d fallen for Lola, even before she realized it was happening. That was still so private; Renee hadn’t told a soul. Here, the evidence was laid out in a three-minute video, like a cracked case.

“I, for one, would love Lola to come out,” QueerforJeanJacket concluded. “Renee’s so hot, I’m about to start a stan account—let me know in the comments if you’re into that. But honestly, I hope Renee is the one for Lola. I just think it would be so cool to see Lola marry a woman.”

Whoa, how did they jump from rebound tomarriage?

Renee sat down on the floor, in the middle of the room. Her heart was suddenly racing. No one in their right mind would mention her name in the same sentence as marriage. She hadn’t even had a proper long-term—or short-term—relationship. She’d burnt so many romantic bridges, she might as well be traveling with matches and kerosene.

She called me hot, she wrote to Kadijah.

Don’t read the comments.

What’s in the comments? They’re saying I’m not hot?

Never read the comments! And the point is, is something going on with you two?

Yeah, I’m filming her documentary.

Be for fucking real.

Renee fell back so that her spine was flush to the carpet. Even if she wanted to tell the truth, she’d signed an NDA. Usingthatas an answer was an answer on its own.

Maybe she didn’t need to say anything at all. Kadijah could believe what they wanted for now, and it was only a matter of time before they took the relationship public, wasn’t it?

Renee heaved herself off the floor and finished packing.

She left Kadijah on read.

DESPITERENEE’S FEARS, traveling to New York with Lola was nothing like returning to the city that had teased her with a good time, then chewed her up and spit her out. They stayed in Lola’s apartment near Gramercy Park, a rich-person neighborhood unfamiliar to Renee. Lola’s packed schedule allowed for none of the things Renee would have wanted to show her in the city: no tour of Flushing’s dumpling houses, excursion to Green-Wood Cemetery, or night out at a sapphic party at the Woods on Wednesdays.

Not that they could have done the last one anyway.

Lola had warned Renee that with news of her breakup with Nash, the paparazzi and fan attention would be intense. Renee dismissed her concerns: New York wasn’t like celeb-crazed L.A. The first time they rode the elevator down from Lola’s penthouse to slip into a waiting car—Lola mentioned wanting to upgrade to a place with a garage—Lola wore a large pair of sunglasses and clutched her coat closed like a security blanket. She looked so uncomfortable that Renee wondered if maybe Lola really didn’t like the city. Then the elevator doors opened and Renee heard the screams.