Cool for the Summer Dahlia Adler (korean novels in english TXT) 📖

messages. It’s easier than I expect to pick up where I left off. Nadia giving a teasing response to Jillian. Jillian playfully replying in Nadia’s Russian accent, then asking her to teach her those swear words. At some point as I write, I realize I’ve left Oliver out of the story, and I messily add that Jillian is talking to Nadia while waiting for The Guy to show his face again.

I’m on a serious roll when I’m suddenly interrupted by fingers waving over my page. I look up, blinking into the light as I remember I’m at work, and am startled to see Chase standing there, hazel eyes twinkling as he laughs. “What’s got you so busy? I called your name like three times. Are you late on an assignment?”

Well, I guess The Guy has arrived. “Just something for fun.” I close the notebook reluctantly and tuck it under the counter. “What brings you to the Book and Bean? Have you heard about our stunning latte art?”

“Hmm, I do recall a beautiful girl I was at a party with last night mentioning something about that. Thought I should see for myself, and maybe see if the barista was up for throwing in a kiss.”

A kiss sounds like the perfect way to forget all this stupid drama, and I stand on my toes and pull Chase down by his collar, closing the height gap between us as I press my lips to his. I kiss him with all the force of my anger and confusion at Jasmine and the want for him I had for so damn long.

When we break apart, he looks a little bit like a cartoon character who’s just been hit with a mallet, stars and birdies flying around his head.

He looks like I wish I felt. But all I really feel is that I can’t wait to finish the scene between Jillian and Nadia.

By Monday morning, I feel like I’m gonna explode if I don’t talk to someone about what’s going on in my head. I go through the pros and cons of talking to my mom, to Shannon, to Kiki, to Gia, but I can’t imagine having this conversation with any of them. I don’t really know where my mom stands on same-sex relationship stuff, but it isn’t exactly smiled upon in the motherland. I tell her just about everything, but considering it involves her boss’s daughter, I need a little more certainty before I drop this particular bomb.

As for the others … even if they were chill about that—and I feel pretty confident at least Shannon and Kiki would be, if not Gia, who comes from a super traditional family—none of them would take being lied to all semester very well. And maybe Kiki already knows something and maybe she doesn’t, but her podcast is more popular than ever, and I don’t know that I can trust her to keep quiet.

When I walk into AP Enviro, I’m hit by the most obvious answer in the world.

“Hey, partner,” I say as I take my seat next to Jamie. “How was your weekend?”

“Good!” Her face brightens. “I took Taylor into the city on Friday night to see their favorite band—I got tickets for their birthday. Had a great time. You? I assume you went to Ferris’s party.”

“I did. It was fun,” I say automatically, knowing that there’s no way the expression on my face matches the glow on hers when she talks about her date with Taylor. But she’s given me an opening, and I need to take it before the bell rings. “Typical. Not quite the same as a world-class date.” I wiggle my eyebrows and she laughs.

“Yeah, well, dates are more our thing than parties, anyway. The fewer people we know, the better.”

“I hear that,” I say, even though it’s generally the opposite of my philosophy. “Did you know that about each other when you started dating? And how did you two start dating, anyway?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but it’s not hard to get Jamie to talk about Taylor. I’ve asked her about her weekend most Monday mornings, and for most of the last six months, Taylor’s factored somewhere into her answer. “They took someone’s spot in our weekly DnD game, and after a couple of weeks of crushing on them, I just … gave them a set of nonbinary dice I saw online and that was it. Probably the gutsiest dating move I’ve ever made, honestly.”

It is, but that’s not the part I’m focused on. “But there was no, like … question of whether…” I trail off, unsure how to phrase the rest.

“I was already out as bi, and they were out as pan and nonbinary, if that’s what you mean. Not that it has to mean they were attracted to me, but I knew I wasn’t ruled out or anything.”

“Yeah, that,” I say, grateful she knew what I was going for, even as her answer makes my cheeks feel hot. “So, you’ve been out for a long time?” She’s been out the whole time I’ve known her, but she only moved to Stratford from Connecticut two years ago.

“Oh, yeah. Since, like, fifth grade. And even then, it’s not like I really needed to come out. My room was a shrine to Wonder Woman and I don’t even read comics.” She grins. “Wasn’t tough for my mom and stepdad to read between the lines.”

“And Taylor?”

“Pretty much the same. They introduced themselves with their pronouns the instant we met, so I’ve never known them to ID as anything else.”

Well, that was lovely for the two of them, but not particularly helpful for me.

Or maybe it is. Maybe this is making clear that I’m blowing things way out of proportion. If being bi means always knowing, well, that isn’t me. The only girls on my bedroom walls are my friends, and I’m certainly not into any of them that way.

That settles it. I’m straight. Just like I always thought.

I wait for the feeling of a weight lifting