Becky Albertalli - The Upside of Unrequited

For the women who know me way too well:

Caroline Goldstein, Eileen Thomas, Adele Thomas,

Gini Albertalli, and Donna Bray.

And in loving, wistful memory of Molly Goldstein.

This ones for you.

IM ON THE TOILET AT the 9:30 Club, and Im wondering how mermaids pee.

This isnt random. Theres a mermaid Barbie attached to the door of the bathroom here. Which is a pretty odd choice for a bathroom mascot. If thats even a thing. Bathroom mascots.

But the door opens, letting in a burst of music from the club. This is not a bathroom you can enter discreetly. A stall door clicks shut just as Im opening mine. I step out.

There are mirrors above all the sinks. I suck in my cheeks so it looks like I have cheekbones. And its quite a transformation. Sometimes I have the idea that I could maintain this. I could spend the rest of my life gently biting the insides of my cheeks. Except for the fact that it makes my lips look weird. Also, biting your cheeks definitely gets in the way of talking, and thats a little hardcore, even for me. Even for cheekbones.

Shit. Theres a voice from the stall, low and sort of husky. Hey, can you hand me some toilet paper?

Shes talking to me. It takes me a moment to realize that. Oh! Sure.

I grab a wad of it to pass under the girls door, and her hand brushes mine as she takes it. Okay, you just saved my life.

I saved a life. Right here in the bathroom of the 9:30 Club.

She flushes, and steps out of the stall, and the first thing I notice is her shirt: red cotton, with an awesomely artistic rendering of the letters G and J. I actually dont think most people would recognize them as letters.

But I do. Thats a Georgie James shirt.

The girl raises her eyebrows, smiling. You know Georgie James?

Yeah. I smile back.

Georgie James. They were a local DC band, but they broke up years ago. You never really expect to meet anyone our age whos heard of them, but my sister used to be obsessed.

The girl shakes her head. That is awesome.

It is the awesomest, I say, and the girl laughsone of those quiet laughs that bubbles up from your throat. Then I really look at her. And oh.

Shes beautiful.

This girl.

Shes short and slender and East Asian, and her hair is such a dark shade of purple, its almost not purple. Thick-framed glasses. And theres something about the shape of her lips. She has very well-defined lips.

Cassie would definitely be into her. The glasses, especially. And the Georgie James shirt.

Anyway, thanks for saving my butt. Literally. She shakes her head. Okay, not my butt.

I giggle. Its okay.

Thanks for saving my labia.

I shrug and smile back at her. Theres just something about this kind of momentthis tiny thread connecting me to a total stranger. Its the kind of thing that makes the universe feel smaller. I really love that.

I drift back into the club, letting the music settle around me. Its a local band Ive never heard of, but the floor is packed. People seem to like how loud the drums are. Im surrounded by dancing, moving bodies and dimly lit faces, heads tilted up at the stage. Suddenly, everything starts to feel huge and impossible again. I think its because there are so many couples, laughing and leaning and earnestly making out.

Theres this feeling I get when I watch people kiss. I become a different form of matter. Like theyre water, and Im an ice cube. Like Im the most alone person in the entire world.

Molly! shouts Cassie, waving her hands. She and Olivia are near the speakers, and Olivia is actually wincing. Shes not exactly a 9:30 Club kind of girl. Im not sure I am, either, but Cassie can be pretty persuasive.

I should put this out there: my twin sister and I are nothing alike.

We dont even look alike. Were both white, and were both sort of medium height. But in every other way, were opposites. Cassies blond, green-eyed, and willowy. Im not any of those things. Im brown-haired and brown-eyed and nowhere close to willowy.

I met your dream girl, I tell Cassie immediately.

What?

I made a friend in the bathroom, and shes really cute, and I think you guys should fall in love and get married and have babies.

Cassie does her raise and wrinkle eyebrow thing. Shes one of those blond girls with brown eyebrows, and its hard to explain how perfectly it works on her. How does that happen?

How does love happen?

No, how do you make friends in a bathroom?

Cass. Youre missing the point. This is the dream girl.

Wait a minute. Cassie flicks my arm. Is this a Molly crush? Is this crush number twenty-seven?

What? No. I blush.

Oh my God. Your first girl crush. Im so proud.

Were at twenty-seven already? Olivia asks. Which Im choosing to interpret as her being impressed with me. So, Im a prolific crusher. Thats not a bad thing. Not that this is a Molly crush.

I shake my head and cover my eyes. I feel a little helium-brained. Maybe this is what its like to be drunk. My cousin Abby told me being drunk feels like youre floating. I wonder if its possible to get drunk without drinking.

Hey. Cassie peels my hands away from my face. You know its my job to mess with you.

But before I can reply, Olivia holds up her phone. Hey, its eleven forty-five, she says. Should we be heading to the Metro?

Oh! I say.

The Metro closes at midnight. Also, Im starting work tomorrow. I have an actual summer job. Which means I should probably get at least a little bit of sleep, so I dont pass out at the register. I hear thats not professional.

We weave toward the exit, and its honestly a relief to step outside. Its cool for June, and the air feels nice against my legs. Im wearing this cotton dress that was plain black when I got it, but I sewed on a doily lace Peter Pan collar and some lace around the bottom. Its completely improved.

Cassie and Olivia both text as they walk, and they dont even trip over the curb. I admire that. I hang back a little, just watching them. They fit here, on U Street. Cassies got this perfect messy ponytail, and shes dressed like she threw on the first thing to fall out of her closet. Which is probably accurate, but it works on her. More than works. She has this way of making everyone else look overdressed. And Olivia is tall, with this fresh-scrubbed kind of prettinessexcept she has a nose stud and blue-streaked hair that make you look at her twice. And I guess shes considered chubby, but not as much as I am.

I do wonder, sometimes, what people think when they see me.

Its strange how you can sometimes still feel self-conscious around people youve known your whole life. Literally. Weve known Olivia since our moms were in La Leche League together. And for seventeen years, its been the four of us: Cassie, Olivia, me, and my cousin Abby. Except Abby moved to Georgia last summer. And ever since, Cassies been dragging Olivia and me to the stuff she used to do with Abbyopen mic nights and concerts and wandering down H Street.

A year ago, Olivia and I would have been tucked up on her living room couch, watching Steven Universe with Titania, her schnauzer-beagle mix. Instead, Im surrounded by people who are infinitely cooler than me. Everyone on U Street is doing one of three things right now: laughing, smoking, or making out.

I turn toward the Metro pole, and right away, I see the dream girl.

Cass, its her! I pull on Cassies tank top. In the red. Look.

The girl leans forward, digging through her purse. There are these two hipster white guys hovering near her, both absorbed in their phones: a redhead wearing skinny jeans, and a dark-haired one with dramatic bangs.