Wherever the Dandelion Falls (20 page)

I steadied myself against the wall as I leaned into my closet, slipping off my heels and putting on a pair of plain black flats, almost like the ones Faye was wearing. Then I rushed out into the living room, whisking Faye away from Justine before she could embarrass me.

"So where are we going?" I asked once I was buckled into her car.

Faye grinned. "You like science, right?"

"Well,
yeah
."

"The Exploratorium does these date night things where adults can come in and play with the exhibits and sample local wines. I thought that sounded like something you'd enjoy."

The Exploratorium is a hands-on museum designed for kids of all ages to explore some of the ways science manifested itself in the world, in particular how it interacted with the human brain. Everything from optical illusions to gravity to Newtonian physics was represented in the huge collection of games and experiments.

I melted. Faye knew better than to take me somewhere too fancy. She had picked something we would both enjoy. "So it's a science nerd and wine snob date?"

Faye chuckled. "Yep. I've never been to the Exploratorium before."

"
Really
?" I said, getting excited. I couldn't wait to show Faye my favorite exhibits. I relaxed, realizing that I'd feel like I knew more than she did. Even if I had no idea how to date a girl, I could explain cellular regeneration in my sleep.

"Really," Faye said.

"Oh man," I said, trying to contain my excitement. I didn't want to look like too much of a nerd.

But I realized Faye wanted me to be excited. She liked my nerdiness.

"I hope you won't be too disappointed if I don't pay attention to the wine," I said.

Faye's smile grew. "Of course. As long as you let me try a few samples."

"Of course," I said. "Do you know a lot about wine?"

"Some," Faye said, giving a one-shouldered shrug. "I know enough to be picky."

"Will you teach me?" I asked.

"Sure," Faye grinned.

Soon we were pulling in to the parking lot at Pier 15. After giving her keys to the valet, Faye gave me the cutest, most excited smile.

When we got to the entrance, she handed a paper with barcodes to the person at the door. She had already paid for our tickets online. I wasn't sure how I felt about that; it was odd to have another girl paying for things all the time. But maybe this was how it worked. Maybe whoever did the asking paid for things.

Once we were inside, I felt like my whole body lit up with excitement. I wanted to show Faye every exhibit and explain to her what was happening beyond the simple explanations the signs gave. She snagged us each a small glass of wine, which I drank quickly so I would have both my hands free to interact with the exhibits.

My favorite section of the whole museum was the part dedicated to light. There are dozens of experiments that explore retinal adjustment, refraction, color adaptation, and how our brain can bend and distort images in a short amount of time. I jabbered to Faye about everything, and when I looked up from where I was hunched over a light booth, she was beaming at me. For a minute my mind went blank and all I could think about was her smile. I was suspended in that moment, captivated by her face until she lifted her glass to her lips and I realized I had stopped speaking in the middle of a sentence. I blundered my way through the rest of my explanation, feeling pink rise in my cheeks. When I finished talking, she leaned over to see what I was talking about, asking a few more questions before she put her hand gently on my arm and offered to get me another glass of wine.

After that, I didn't feel self-conscious about my excitement. She even encouraged me, asking questions about the live chicken embryos and laughing with me at how silly we looked in the slow-motion video footage booth. When we got in the car after a wonderful few hours, my throat was dry from talking about everything we'd seen. The displays had incited more nerdy explanations that I thought I was capable of. But Faye had held her wine glass and listened attentively, nodding and smiling. I was tired, but most of me was wired with the excitement of being on a good date and letting my brain run so wild with nerdy science things. Something was swelling in my chest, and I didn't want to deflate by saying goodnight too soon.

She must have been feeling the same way, because as we pulled out of the parking lot, she turned to me. "Would you like to come back to my house for a drink?"

I felt myself freeze. I didn't know what to say. She wasn't really inviting me over for a drink. Vance had invited me up for a drink when what he wanted was to get in my pants. I knew Faye was nothing like Vance, but the meaning behind her words made my stomach curdle and the floating feeling in my chest wither. No matter how much I liked her, I wasn't ready to have sex with her. Even though I'd been with a girl before, it was still a big deal to me. The expectation she was unfairly laying on me made me chill.

I thought back to the time my mom had sat me down in the small apartment I spent half my nights in as a teen. She hadn't had much money, and worked two jobs to keep the lights on and food in our fridge.

"Riley," my mom said, pressing the flowers on her dress into her knees in an attempt to appear calm, even though she wasn't. "If any boy ever asks you to...
make love
... and you're not ready, you don't need to give him a reason. You can just say
No thank you
. And if he doesn't listen, get out of there as fast as you can. It doesn't matter if he's the senator's son or a millionaire. You decide when you want to... be intimate. Don't let him make you feel guilty for not giving him a reason." I had absorbed the embarrassment that bled through my mom's euphemisms and the way she forcefully squared her shoulders. Even if it had been one of those horribly embarrassing conversations, what she said to me stuck. I didn't have to give someone a reason for not wanting to have sex. I could just say
no thank you
, and that was enough.

I swallowed, knowing I'd have to deliver the blow to Faye somehow. Falling back on the manners I'd been raised with, I said quietly, "No, thank you."

Faye realized she'd crossed a boundary, because I felt her zip up uncomfortably. "Okay," she said.

"We could stop at a wine bar or something," I suggested, wanting to elongate the evening. The later I got home, the more conversations with Faye I would have to play over in my head, more rapt gazes to paper the walls of my mind, more graceful gestures of her wrist to memorize. I would have more things about her to savor until I saw her again. I needed those things.

Faye brightened. "Okay," she said. "There's a nice place right near here."

"Sounds good," I said, sitting up straighter.

And even though a part of me panged guilty for dashing Faye's hopes of getting laid, I was proud that I'd stuck by my convictions.

I opened the door for Faye, welcoming her into the sleepy morning at the closed peep show. I took her through the dressing room and up the stairs into the fishbowl that was the Box, holding the door open for her to follow me.

Faye kept her hands close to her sides, her shoulders tense with anxiety as her eyes jumped around the room, trying to avoid her own reflection. She stepped up onto the floor where I stood, studying the mirrored walls and poles.

Faye whispered, "Are you sure there's no one watching us?"

I nodded. "Totally sure. The front door is locked and we have a security guard around the clock. The only people in the building are the dancers, and we don't go in the booths."

Faye nodded, looking a little braver.

"When there are people in the booths, those little lights go on," I said, tapping the colored dots sprinkled evenly across the mirrors.

Looking at our reflections, I realized I had never been in the Box with so much clothing on. I had on jeans and a loose purple t-shirt that hung unevenly on my shoulders. Being so casual in the Box felt nice, kind of like I was just hanging out with Faye.

There was a small panel that controlled the sound system in the corner, and Faye's eyes latched onto it like a lifeline.

"Is that for the music?" she asked.

I nodded and walked over to it. I pushed a few buttons and the speakers in the ceiling crackled a bit. Faye looked up like we were about to fall on her.

"Got any requests?" I asked.

Faye pursed her lips. "Beyoncé?"

I gave a smile and queued up
Naughty Girl
as Faye ventured further into the room.

As the first tight, meaty chord of the song played, Faye eyed the pole, looking up and down its full length. She seemed intrigued, as though she'd never seen a pole in person.

"So," I said, reaching for an antibacterial wipe on instinct, "Ever worked a pole?" I didn't mean to tease her, but it was pretty obvious she hadn't.

Faye looked sheepish as she shook her head.

"Now's a good time to learn," I said with a coy smile as I wiped down a pole. "You've got an expert ready to give you a private lesson."

Faye gave me a nervous laugh. "Oh, gosh, no. I couldn't."

"It's fun," I said, tapping the pole. "These poles are sturdy and well-loved. And clean," I added, tossing the towel towards the stairs.

"I don't know how," Faye admitted shyly.

"Can you walk?"

Faye rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Can you hold onto a pole?"

Faye nodded.

"Then you can pole dance."

Faye giggled nervously again and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"Just take the pole in your hand. Walk around it, get to know it. See if there are any dings or smudges on it. Study it like you have to write a story about it or cook it for dinner."

Faye took the pole in her hand, flexing her fingers once before gripping it firmly, hand sliding as she walked around it in a slow circle. She slid her eyes up the gleaming metal, seeming to own it with that mere glance.

"Now lean away and arch your back."

As the cadence on the music built, Faye bent her knees and leaned back at a stiff angle, tilting off her own balance, arm rigid as she gripped the pole.

"Easy, easy... It won't let you go."

Faye jolted up, letting go of the pole and tucking her hair behind her ears again. "I can't do this," she muttered.

"Yes, you can," I said.

Faye's eyes skirted the room. "I just imagine all the guys behind the glass and... I know my boyfriend would be upset if he knew I was dancing on a pole when other people could see." Faye fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, pulling it down and straightening her collar.

I shrugged to lighten the mood. "So imagine he's the only one watching."

Faye's eyes widened. "I would
never
dance for him like this."

I quirked my head. "Why not?"

Faye shrugged, seeming to burrow inside herself as she looked for an answer that wouldn't offend me.

"What if you just dance for yourself?"

"It's hard with all the mirrors. That's why I had to drop out of ballet when I was little."

I couldn't help myself as I let out a soft
aww
at the thought of Faye as a little girl, dressed in a pink tutu, just as stiff and timid as she was now.

She glanced at her watch and I realized it was probably almost time for my shift.

"I have to get ready for my shift soon," I said. "Do you have questions?"

"A thousand," Faye murmured.

For the first time since I met her, I felt I was seeing the full extent of Faye's curiosity. She was still shy and easily embarrassed, but she wasn't letting that stop her from wondering about things.

"Great. I'll just put my makeup on while we talk."

Faye nodded and followed me back down the steps into the dressing room. But as I settled in front of the mirror, she didn't ask anything. So I started talking. "We see every type of customer you could imagine," I said. "CEOs, barely legal frat boys, old men..."

Faye bit her lip, hesitant. "Do you ever see any girls?"