Finding parking had taken a while, and by the time we got to the restaurant, there was an hour-plus wait. We signed up on the clipboard and went back out to Clement Street to wait along with everyone else. The fog was rolling in, and I realized that when people said “rolling in,” they really meant it, the mist unspooling from the western end of the street as if it were on wheels.

“So,” Tasha said, “do you have a thing for Roxy?”

I was surprised. “Roxy? No. I mean, she’s hot—everybody thinks she’s hot.”

Tasha looked at me and nodded. “Yeah. So not her. Steph, then?”

I was taken aback. “What?”

Tasha’s eyebrows lifted and she nodded slightly. “Yep. Okay, Steph. Your grandma’s gardener.”

I stared at her, my chest tightening.

“It’s okay,” Tasha said. “It’s me, remember? I’ve known you since we were kids. I could tell by the way you looked at them onstage. It was one or the other.”

I exhaled. “Shit. You could tell?”

Tasha seemed puzzled by that. “Yeah. It’s fine. Did I not just come out to you?” She shook her head. “Everything makes a lot more sense now. I couldn’t understand why you wanted to go to some indie music festival. And she’s cute. I mean, she’s got the look if you like that kinda thing.”

“What kind of look?”

She shrugged. “You know. Boyish, guys’ clothes. What do they call it on Tumblr? Genderqueer? I don’t know the right words. It works for Steph.”

“You think so?” I said, a little too eagerly.

Tasha rolled her eyes at me. “Girl, you have it bad. Yes, aesthetically speaking, she works the look. Do you want to do a mash note about her now?”

I laughed involuntarily. “Tash, I didn’t mean to keep it a secret, I just . . .”

She waved it off. “I get it. You have a crush. It’s a little weird at first.”

“Yeah, it’s . . . it’s a little more than a crush.”

“What do you mean?”

I hesitated. “She—we’ve been hooking up.”

“Shit. Aria!” Tasha’s eyes were so wide. “She’s with Lisa, right?”

“Yeah. I know, it’s not good.”

Tasha gave me a knowing look. “But?”

I winced. The fog was creeping closer to us, and a gust of damp wind ruffled my hair. “I really like her,” I said.

“I can tell.”

“How am I supposed to change the way I feel?”

“You’re asking me?” Tasha sighed. “I don’t know.” She linked her arm with mine and pulled me closer as we both watched the fog advancing.

—

We lay in bed in the dark, only the faintest light outlining the curtained window. Neither of us was asleep. “Tasha,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Do you think you’re bisexual?”

“I don’t know. I never really crushed on guys like you did.”

“What about Theo Morales?”