Tasteless (9 page)

“Look who we found!” he heard Zoe yell from across the field.  Sam stood up, shielding his eyes from the sun so he could see where they were.  Zoe and Gemma had indeed managed to find Rye and apparently dragged her out of the house before she could get dressed.  Instead of her usual t-shirt and jeans, she was wearing an oversized grey sweater cardigan that reached mid-thigh and what looked like pink, polka-dot pajama romper on the inside.  Sam laughed, realizing the girls probably thought Rye was making a fashion choice in her outfit, rather than being forcibly removed from her home while she still wore what she slept in.  But he knew better.

As with any of Sam’s events, there was more food than necessary but he had added an extra two servings to account for Gavin’s monstrous appetite.  Even then, just about everything he cooked was consumed by sundown and Gavin was already looking for the dessert, which Damian had wisely hidden so that he couldn’t get to it before everyone else was ready.

Gemma, Zoe, and Rye stayed reclining on the blanket as Sam and Damian cleared the plates around them.  They laid with their heads together in a triangle as they looked skyward with Zoe marveling at the stars she could already see when it wasn’t even completely dark.  Sam watched as Damian snuck a quick kiss from Gemma as he bent down to grab an empty wine glass, stealthy enough so that the other two girls didn’t notice – or didn’t care.  Sam could see how much Gemma and Zoe had taken to Rye, and how happily Rye returned those feelings.  Their hair blended into a colorful pile above their heads and for a second, he considered making some quip about the dangers of letting themselves get tangled with Rye’s knotty hair.  But he refrained, not wanting to ruin their fun.

Now that Sam was a few beers into the night, he began to consider Gavin’s assessment of Rye’s attractiveness.  He wasn’t yet sure if he saw the same potential that Gavin did, but he had gotten distracted twice now by Rye’s bare legs as they stretched out from her silly pajama rompers.  They were surprisingly shapely, something he had never noticed under her boxy boy jeans.  And despite not being very tan, they managed just the slightest tint of gold, much like her hair and eyes.  As he cleaned, Sam found himself wondering how she had gotten the tan at all when she wore those long, baggy pants all the time.  He imagined her weekends spent alone on the property, walking barefoot outside in that stupid short romper as the sun caught the golden waves of her hair.

Sam suddenly stopped, turning abruptly from the girls as he squelched that image from forming anymore.  He gathered the dirty plates and cutlery as he walked them back to the kitchen, making sure not to look behind him as he did so.  It was unusual that such an innocent image could cause him to blush.  He had probably gone just a little too long without getting laid.  Sam could feel a slight heat in his cheeks and he felt weirdly ashamed and embarrassed for the thoughts his mind had forced upon him.

“Good workout gathering all those plates?” Gavin said as Sam stepped into the kitchen.

“What?”

“Your face is red,” Gavin continued.  He was on his hands and knees, crawling around the dining space, presumably still in search of where Damian hid the dessert.

“Oh, yeah,” Sam replied.  “It’s a little warm.”

“Wasn’t there gelato in our dessert basket?” Gavin asked as he got back up on his feet and dusted himself off.  “It’s not in the freezer and I have no idea how Damian hid that without it melting.”  He stopped, turning his head slightly as he studied Sam’s face harder.  “Seriously man, you look like you’re wearing blush.”

“The gelato’s in a cooler under a newspaper behind the hostess stand,” Sam blurted out.

“Yes!” Gavin exclaimed, scrambling towards the stand, completely forgetting about Sam.

~

Rye woke up to a full house for the first time in a long time.

The night before, after Gavin finished a tub of mint chocolate chip gelato on his own, he took advantage of the sugar rush to set off the dozen tubes of illegal fireworks he had brought with him.  After getting over her initial fear of someone losing an extremity or getting arrested, Rye found herself enjoying the colorful, illegal display.  There were sunbursts and explosions in every color she could hope for, and even heart-shaped sparklers that Gavin handed out to everyone with a quick explanation of why he was thankful to have them in their lives.

“You know it’s not Thanksgiving today, right man?” Damian had asked after Gavin handed him his sparkler.  “This is not how Independence Day works.”

“Can’t a guy just be thankful, geez,” Gavin said.  “And I’m not going to be rude and stop here just because it’s not the right holiday.”  And so he continued, lighting and handling sparklers to everyone, coming up with the most genuine reason he could think of for why he was thankful for them.

When he got to Rye, she felt slightly awkward, more than aware of the fact that she didn’t quite belong in the group.  They had all known each other for so long while she had just known them for a few weeks.  She wasn’t even sure if they were being anything more than polite.  But to her surprise, Gavin’s words felt genuine.  He thanked her for letting them hang on her property and for “employing Sam” and “being a cool Somerville” because he had no idea that was possible.  She laughed, thanking him in return for his kind words before he asked her if she was planning on finishing her tiramisu cup.

The group had originally planned on driving back that night, but when every single one of them realized they had thought someone else was a the designated driver, their plans quickly changed.  Rye gladly offered her house, not wanting to say goodbye quite yet anyway.  She gave them a quick tour of the old place before setting up the rooms for them.  She had thought to put Damian and Gemma in her grandparents’ old room, Gavin and Zoe in her brothers’ old room, and Sam in her parents’ but the boys never made it past the couches in the living room.  Gavin fell asleep first, spooning Damian so hard that he had no choice about moving anywhere else.  Sam decided to stay with him in solidarity.

So the girls decided to stay with Rye.  Rye was admittedly not used to girls so actively wanting to be her friend so it came as quite the surprise that Gemma and Zoe seemed so hell-bent on pushing their friendship on her.  She couldn’t complain, genuinely enjoying their company and quickly growing used to how comfortable they had gotten with each other.  Before bed, Gemma and Zoe playfully argued over which one of them was Poppy and which one was Sage, before falling soundly asleep in her sisters’ old bunk beds.

“All this makeup and hair stuff is like, eight years past their expiration date,” Zoe said the next morning as she rummaged through Poppy and Sage’s closet and dresser as Gemma remained asleep.  “Rye, do you have anything I can borrow?”

“What do you need?” Rye asked, realizing she probably didn’t have anything Zoe was looking for.

“Moisturizer, eyeliner, bronzer if you have any,” she shrugged.  “Mousse.  Basic stuff.”

“I don’t…” Rye said, biting her lip.

“Can you maybe take me to a drug store or something,” Zoe asked.  “Or a mall.  I just realized I slept the night with barbecue sauce on my shirt.”

Rye and Zoe crept out the room and downstairs where they found that Damian had managed to escape from Gavin’s grasps at night.  He and Sam had gotten to the reclining chairs by the fireplace and tucked themselves in there instead.

“Cuties,” Zoe whispered before blowing a passing kiss at Gavin.

In the car, Rye realized she had no idea how to get to the mall.  It had been awhile since she had last gone.  But Zoe seemed to have a built in radar for clothing boutiques and the next thing she knew, they had found a strip mall with a cute little shop and a drug store right next to it.  Zoe hurried into the drugstore and swept up all the items she needed like an efficient little hurricane before applying everything like a pro with the Yukon’s tinted window as a makeup mirror.

“Want some?” Zoe asked, turning to Rye when she was done.

“No, I’m good,” Rye laughed.

“I feel better now,” Zoe said.  Rye pursed her lips, wondering why a girl as beautiful as Zoe cared about makeup at all, especially when she was one of the lucky few who was stunning without it.  Zoe stuffed all her new products in her purse before taking Rye’s hand and dragging her into the boutique.  The store was named Coquette and though Rye wasn’t well-versed in anything shopping-related, she knew that it was probably one of the higher end retailers in Dutchess Plains.  She remembered girls in her high school being treated to a purchase at Coquette when they got good grades or won some sort of accolade.  Of course, it was nothing compared to the world that her family now knew, though it seemed to do just fine for Zoe.  Rye followed her around the small square space, painted with pink and dark brown stripes, boudoir-style.

“How’s this look?” Zoe asked, holding up silky white tank top with covered buttons down the front.

“I like it,” Rye nodded.

“What do you like about it?”

“I like that…” Rye started.  She wasn’t sure what she liked.  She never actually saw big differences between one article of clothing to the next.  “I like that there’s no barbecue sauce stain on it?”

“Good point,” Zoe shrugged, throwing the shirt over her arm as she continued to rummage through the racks.

“Are you still shopping?” Rye asked.

“Yeah, is that okay?” Zoe replied as she flitted around.  “I figured while I’m here.”

“Sure,” Rye said.  She was never one to shop for sport – in fact, she was never one to
shop
ever.  The last time she truly did was with her sisters in middle school.  She pursed her lips, realizing she hadn’t changed her wardrobe at all since then.  If only Zoe knew she was shopping with a girl that wore the same exact clothes that she wore ten years ago.

“Ooh, this would look amazing on you!” she said, turning to shove a dusty rose gown at her.  It was made of a light material that Rye didn’t recognize and layered three times to create a more opaque surface.  The light fabric swung out from the shoulder straps, a classic sleeveless tent that was coquettish despite being demure.  “That would look
amazing
with a pair of like lace pantyhose? You know, like these?” Zoe said, suddenly brandishing a pair of black lace pantyhose that Rye assumed she had gotten from the salesgirl behind her.

“I don’t know…” Rye said, holding the dress up to her body with one hand and the pantyhose in the other.  “I don’t have any place to wear something like this…”

“Wear it at the opening of the restaurant,” Zoe suggested.  “Or, ooh, better yet – wear it at my wedding.”

“Oh,” Rye smiled.  “Thank you.  For inviting me.”

“Of
course
,” Zoe said, grabbing the dress and pantyhose from her arms and shoving it in the salesgirl’s.  “And you can thank me again now because I’m buying them for you.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Rye said, laughing.  “Besides, I’ve never done well with pantyhose.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to like pin the waist of a pair to my underwear to keep it from rolling down,” Rye said.  “They never stay on!”

“Naughty,” Zoe winked.

“No!” Rye giggled.  “No, not like that.  It’s just they always kind of slip and slide and roll around and I end up looking like I have bed bugs from adjusting it all day.”

“Simple solution,” Zoe said.  She turned to the salesgirl.  “You have stockings and garters in this same lace here?”

“Yes we do,” the salesgirl said, smiling at the commission she was about to make in the form of Zoe’s clothes pile.

“There,” Zoe said, turning back to Rye.  “Stockings are kind of like a more formal version of pinning your stockings to your underwear.  You’ll love them.”

“Thank you,” Rye smiled.  “And I’m only letting you do this because I have a feeling I can’t fight you.”

“Good girl,” Zoe chirped.  “And you’re going to look
great
at my wedding.”

“When is that exactly?” Rye asked as she watched the salesgirls ring up all the items.

“We’re going for ASAP,” Zoe said.  “My grandma’s been having a little trouble getting around but she also doesn’t want me to force my guests to go down to Oklahoma so we just want to do this while she still has all her mobility, you know, in case she has to run from paparazzi and shit.  Her general stubbornness is making this whole thing super-fun to plan.  We had actually originally wanted to have it at Sandrine but I kind of spaced on how fucked up that would be to Sam.”

“I tried their pop-up, they weren’t so great.”

“Oh yeah?” Zoe laughed.  “Good.  Those assholes can suck it.”  She swiped her card and signed the receipt, thanking the salesgirl again as they slipped out of the store.  “You know what’s super weird? That girl didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh right,” Rye said, remembering that Zoe was a person people recognized.

“Not even when she saw my name on the credit card, and usually by then, most people recognize me,” she said, tilting her head with thought.

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s certainly refreshing.”

As they packed up the shopping bags into the back of the car, Rye could see something brewing in Zoe’s head.  By the time they had their seatbelts on, whatever was brewing had boiled over.  She had turned excitedly towards Rye, slapping her on the shoulder.