Chapter 7

After practice, Dana immediately drove home instead of hanging out—she needed to do as much homework as possible before Josh picked her up. Besides, the boys’ coach wanted the full court to work on their fast breaks. Judging by their last couple games, they needed it.

Five minutes before Josh was due, she looked up at the clock and swore. Fortunately, she’d already picked out in her mind what to wear. She was still changing when he pulled up, exactly on time. Well, so much for make-up. Dana made a face at herself as she brushed her hair quickly. Not that she was any good at applying it. She’d just have to go as herself—well, plus some lip gloss.

As she tied her ponytail with a white scrunchie, she worried whether Josh would take this as a sign she didn’t care enough about him. Then she realized what she was thinking. She was a lesbian, for heaven’s sake—it wasn’t like she was trying to attract his attention. She straightened up and took a deep breath. Then she scrambled downstairs.

Josh was introducing himself to her father—his face solemn. He nodded politely to Dana in greeting. As Dana grabbed her jacket from the closet, Clara came into the hall. “Oh, hey, Josh.”

“Hey, Clara,” he said with a smile.

Dana looked from her sister to Josh and back. Clara told her, “Yearbook,” before heading upstairs. Oh, right, he did that too.

In her confusion, her father took her by the hands. “Be careful, eh?” As he said that, he pressed something small and flat into her palm.

“Dad,” Dana started to say, then gave up and just pulled away from him.

“Call if you’re late—”

“I won’t be late,” Dana said as she opened the door. “Bye.”

As they hurried from the house, Dana had the sense she’d narrowly avoided almost certain embarrassment. Then, as Josh unlocked the passenger door, she looked at what her father had passed her. A condom. Oh for—

She shoved it in her pocket before Josh could see. No, she hadn’t avoided it. Thank the heavens she didn’t blush easily. Well, her cheeks felt a little warm. Dad had always supported her sexuality, but she’d wondered if he secretly wished she were straight. Now she knew.

The weather had cleared off nicely after the late winter storm—it was pleasantly warm, even. It was warm enough to eat outside at Bob’s, which was modestly busy for a weeknight. Josh and Dana sat at one of the burnished steel tables, instead of in the car. “No offense,” Dana told him, “but a hatchback’s a little small.” Though it was also so they’d be seen. The table was narrow—their legs met beneath it. With physical memories of Heather still fresh, this brought inappropriate thoughts to mind. Or maybe they were appropriate, given she was trying to project being straight.

Dawn and Maria from the basketball team walked by, catching her attention. She twiddled fingers at them, and starting looking around for other eyes to catch—so they’d remember her being out with a boy. No one else she knew—but they were early. Unless they were all elsewhere.

After they ordered, Dana looked at Josh. “So tell me,” she said, “where else does one go on dates in this town?”

“Um. Well. It’s not like Tina and I ever go out.”

Oh. Right. “What about with friends?”

He shrugged. “Hang out at each others’ houses, mostly.”

He made a few suggestions—the canonical make-out place was reservoir, apparently. The mini-golf course, again. He didn’t know about parking at the city park. After a few minutes, Dana snorted. “You really don’t get out much, do you.”

Josh gestured with his open hand. “My mother thinks I spend more time online than off.”

When the burgers came, Dana dug in. When she had mostly finished hers off, she looked up to see Josh watching her with an amused expression.

“What?” she said around a full bite.

He gestured with his burger—it was barely a third gone. “I thought boys were supposed to have the bottomless stomachs.”

Dana swallowed. “I’m a growing girl.”

That cracked him up. Dana grinned. And started paying more attention to Josh again.

“What about you?” he asked. “How much did you go out?”

“I dated around,” she said as casually as she could.

“How much did you go out with boys?”

Dana delayed with a slurp of milkshake. His expression was genuinely curious.

“None, the past three years—no, four, now.”

“You were going out with boys when you were 13? Precocious.”

“Well,” she gestured at her body with a fry, “I grew up quickly.”

“And you weren’t a virgin when you stopped.” A statement, not a question. He reached for an onion ring, and their hands brushed.

Dana decided to trust him. As a friend. “No.”

“Wasn’t that... ?”

“A little young for sex with boys?” Dana grimaced. “Yeah, probably. It may have been too young for sex with girls, if it comes to that. I—”

She stopped to think a moment, looking off into the dark bushes. “I’d just turned 13 going on 23. With my height, I looked 16, 17 years old, and if they didn’t know me, kids assumed I was in high school. Dad had just married my stepmother. I didn’t like being at home, and thought I knew what I was doing.”

She hazarded a glance at Josh. His face was neutral. She shrugged. “I learned a little about sex and a little about love. I didn’t get hurt, much. So I don’t regret it. Any of it.” Including deciding she was lesbian. Though from the feel of his knees around her thigh, she was wondering about that one.

“No second thoughts,” he said, wryly.

“Something like that.”

“So,” she asked, “how old were you?”

“Heh.” He paused to collect his thoughts. Their hands brushed again in the middle of the narrow table. Dana’s knuckles tingled. Her skin felt hypersensitive—she felt like, if she held a basketball, she’d be able to feel every bump. “Tina and I have been best friends since we met in daycare. We went to school together, played together—played doctor together. It just seemed natural that we’d have sex together. We first did it a little after we turned 12.”

“Speaking of precocious.”

He nodded. “We’ve been doing it, off and on, ever since.”

“Without ever ‘going out’.”

“Right.”

“But not going out with anyone else.” Off his hesitation, she said, “Oh ho! Who?”

He shook his head to deny it, but when she pointed a fry at him, he grimaced. “Not ‘going out.’ More, flings. When my family goes on vacation. Once at summer camp.”

“Tina?”

He hesitated. “I’m fairly certain she’s done the same at Band Camp.”

“Huh,” Dana said thoughtfully. “No one in town.”

“Nope. Not until you.”

Dana shook her head. “I don’t think I could stand a relationship like that.”