And I barely think about who took them. I don't care about who's behind the camera.
I'm not thinking about him.
14
“Okay, close your eyes.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for Theo to press a new lollipop to my tongue. “All right, that one's definitely cherry.”
“What is wrong with your mouth!' he says. “It's mango-raspberry.”
“You're not seriously saying I should be able to recognize mango-raspberry. Those aren't even...from the same climate.”
“No, clearly your mouth is broken.”
“Kiss me.”
He does. “Yeah, broken mouth,” he says.
“You're the worst.”
We're sitting, of all places, on Josey's front stoop, because we're finally putting our money where our unbroken mouths are when it comes to me meeting her parents. I'm unbelievably nervous. Way more nervous than I was to meet Theo's parents, which I did last week, and which was predictably awkward. He introduced me as his friend Taylor but they both very obviously knew what that meant and very obviously pretended they didn't. Afterwards he hugged me and apologized, and I found out the next day he'd had a very ugly fight with them later that night. But I was okay, because not getting approval from being I did not expect to get approval from isn't much of a traumatic experience.
If Josey's parents, in all their polyamorous glory, don't like me, that's an entirely different type of flying, altogether.
Josey and her parents are at the food bank right now, where they all volunteer, because they are pretty much perfect humans, so we're sprawled out waiting for them. Theo has a key and said we could go inside, but I feel very uncomfortable about that because for all they know I could be a serial killer.
So here we are, sprawled on the stoop with the pile of gourmet lollipops Theo picked up from the boutique candy store on the way here, making each other guess the flavors. We're also wearing each other's shoes, with is unrelated but another example of how we define a mature relationship.
“It's your turn,” I say.
“No.” He sticks the mango-raspberry one in his mouth. “I'm eating this one.”
“Ew, I licked that.”
“You also lick the inside of your mouth, and I put my tongue in there.”
“That's the grossest explanation of kissing I've ever heard.”
“My grandfather calls it slapping gums.”
“Thank you.”
He moves the stick to the side of his mouth to drop a sticky kiss on the tip of my nose. “You're welcome,” he says. I tuck some of his hair behind his ear.
An SUV pulls into the driveway, and Josey is the first one out, emerging from the backseat with arms full of tupperware. She sets it on the steps to give us each a hand to pull us up, and she kisses Theo's cheek, then mine. I'm a little surprised that she does it and more surprised at the degree to which it relaxes me.
She points to the people getting out of the car behind her. “Taylor, these are my parents, Steve and Jennifer, and Annie.” Annie's the one that she's always called her aunt before, but I think the easy transition towards calling her a parents as well is part of this whole thing.
They are potentially the most normal-looking people I've ever seen—well, her dad is a little tall and spooky, but I see paper-skinned Josey every day so that's just genetics. Her mother is gray-haired and wears a lot of jewelry and looks older than I would have guessed, and Annie is round-cheeked and smiley. Annie and Steve both give me a little wave with their warm hello, but Jennifer hugs me.
“Let's get you two inside!” Jennifer says. “You didn't have to wait out here.”
Theo gathers up the lollipops and takes an empty casserole dish off Annie's hands. “You can't birdwatch inside,” he says.
Annie says, “Oh, you were birdwatching, that's it?”
“Yes.”
“And what birds did you see.”
“None,” Theo says. “There are no birds. You should be concerned about that, not us sitting outside.”
Steve gives Theo's ear a tug and says, “Get inside, wise-ass.”
“Yes sir.” He thumps Steve on the shoulders with both hands on his way in, hobbling a little because my shoes are somehow too small for him.
Jennifer ushers the rest of us in and says, “Taylor, tell us absolutely everything about you.”
“Oh, um, okay,” I say, and I auto-pilot my way through my story, swim team and Miami and my mother and the wedding and Aanya while everyone puts away dishes and washes their hands and takes out more dishes and starts to make dinner in some kind of choreographed display: Josey handing olive oil to Steve, Theo taking chicken breasts from Annie. I want to help but I'm so sure I'll get in the way, so I stay halfway in the living room and halfway in the kitchen, leaning on the counter dividing the two and feeling somehow awkward and welcomed all at once.
They listen and nod and laugh in the right places, and Theo and Josey butt in every so often to expand on something or tease me or Annie, she went to space camp too! which leads Annie into a story about her torrid and very imaginary affair with her flight instructor.
“Ugh,” Jennifer says. She's turned away from the chicken in the skillet—Josey immediately took over—to listen to her messages on her cell. “Another
