Some Girls Do

“Okay,” he agrees, taking another sip of his coffee so calmly, like we both aren’t being ridiculous, like we both aren’t already late for things and getting later by the second.

I rub my hands together quickly, trying to psych myself up. “I’m going to grab it.”

“Good plan.”

“Totally going to grab it,” I say again, still not moving.

“Smart move.”

“I’m doing it.” I stand up. “For real.”

“Go get ’em, tiger,” Dylan says, and I raise my eyebrows. “Too far?”

“Too far.”

“How about ‘Godspeed’? Does ‘Godspeed’ work?”

“That works,” I say.

“Godspeed, then.”

I look her straight in the eyes. “If you don’t want anyone knowing your business, then why is it okay to make them think you’re hooking up with Tyler?”

“You know why,” Ruby says, setting her jaw.

“No, I don’t. I need you to tell me,” I say, even though I do know, and hearing her say it might break me.

She shakes her head. “Because Tyler is a boy,” she says softly. Resigned. “And girls aren’t supposed to like other girls.”

“Well, some girls do,” I say, echoing her words from the shop.

Because love is . . . well, love is a trap. Love is getting knocked up and abandoned. Love is a handprint on a cheek and your entire childhood wrapped in tulle. Love is letting someone have the power to hurt you in ways you haven’t even thought of yet.

“It’s a simple question,” she says.

“No, it’s not.”

your brother.” Dylan musses up her hair and earns himself another scowl. “And pissing you off is part of my job as your temporary guardian.” He points at me over Morgan’s shoulder. “You seem cool, Ruby. Don’t mess this up, and don’t break my sister’s heart, or I’ll break your—”

I promise that I’ll help you find more opportunities, but activism isn’t something that happens in just one way or in just one place. There will always be more battles, and beating yourself up about not being able to do it all, all at once, doesn’t do anyone any good. Please take the time to honor what you’re already doing, because that’s important too.”

“It’s just, you do the whole pageant thing and then all of this. I don’t know a lot of girls who could pull off both at the same time.”

I’d be marginally offended if she didn’t sound so sincerely in awe. “Well, some girls do.”

“Yeah,” she says, bumping her shoulder against mine. “I guess they do.”

: “If somebody doesn’t think we deserve to love and be loved the way we want, with whatever person we want, then they don’t deserve our time or attention anyway

We search one another’s faces like we’ll find the answers there, and that sinking feeling comes back, that utterly helpless not-doing-enough feeling I can never seem to outrun

I won’t make that mistake again. Ever. I deserve to be wooed. I deserve to know that the person I’m falling for is falling for me right back. I deserve grand gestures and romance and all that other good stuff

I’m still trying to make it up to her. Deep down, I’m scared I never will. That every breath I take for the rest of my life will belong to her. That I’ll never be anything more than a brain stuck inside a body more my mother’s than my own. Forced to live out the life I stole from her forever