Page 82 of I Kissed Shara Wheeler
Chloe stands there, watching Shara’s dress trail behind her until it whips out of sight.
“I’m not getting on your stupid boat!” she yells into the empty night.
She gets on Shara’s stupid boat.
The stairs down into the cabin are a total death trap, which seems fitting. The first compartment is crammed with bins of equipment, bundles of rope, and a minuscule kitchenette. There’s a tiny gas range, the kind her mom takes on camping trips, and a wide piece of wood on top as a makeshift countertop. Clif Bars, boxes of mac and cheese, plastic containers of trail mix, and a bag of clementines are arranged in a neat row like Shara’s highlighters on Chloe’s first day of school.
She wonders if Shara is always like this, or if she laid everything out because she knew Chloe was coming soon.
Ahead, the cabin opens into a small imitation of a room, two benches around a bolted-down table. A rose-gold MacBook rests next to a bag of individually wrapped chocolates and a notebook open to tidy notes. Chloe’s been spending all her time chasing leads, and Shara’s been eating bonbons on a boat in a ball gown.
She’d admire it if it weren’t Shara, which means she has to hate it.
Shara’s kneeling on one of the benches with her skirt gathered in one hand, tucking a book into the built-in shelf behind it. The hem of her dress is gray with dirt, and when she turns to face Chloe again, Chloe sees popped stiches at the juncture of the bodice and the skirt.
“Have you actually been wearing that for four weeks?” Chloe asks her.
“Ew,” Shara says, sitting down. “Don’t be gross. I packed other clothes.”
She waves her hand toward the cabin entrance, and Chloe looks to her right and sees a small, tucked-away sleeping space. At the foot is Shara’s school bag and two folded piles of clothes.
“So you’re wearing that because…?” Chloe asks, pretending not to examine the soft tangle of underthings, the same ones missing from Shara’s dresser.
“Because I like to, sometimes,” Shara says. “It does get boring in here.”
“You know how else you could break the monotony of living on a boat?” Chloe says. She finally looks at Shara. The distance between them is tight, but she still manages to seem far away. “Not running away to live on a boat.”
“That would actually be the most boring thing I could possibly do,” she counters.
“Do you think this is cute?”
“I think it’s fun. And kinda funny.” She pulls the bag of chocolates toward her and takes one out, then looks at Chloe and tilts her head to the side. She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout. “You look mad.”
“Of course I’m mad. You wasted a whole month of my life on your demented scavenger hunt that wasn’t even going anywhere, while you’ve been luxuriating on a yacht like an oil baron—”
“This isn’t a yacht,” Shara says. “It’s under thirty-five feet.”
For some reason, that’s the thing that finally makes Chloe snap.
“God, you’re such an obnoxious narcissist, I don’t even feel bad that you’re in love with me.”
Shara freezes, the foil wrapper of the chocolate still under her fingernail. Chloe gets a whole second of pure gratification before she says, “What? No. What?”
“You’re in love with me,” Chloe repeats. “That’s what this whole thing is about. You ran away because you’re in love with me and you don’t want to deal with the consequences. Like, it’s pathetic how much you’re in love with me.”
“Oh my God,” Shara says, and then she actually laughs. “Is that what you think?”
“You—” Chloe says. Shara’s bluffing. She has to be bluffing. “You literally told me in the Mansfield Park letter.”
“Chloe, oh my God. Read it again. I told you what I was going to do. My plan was to make you obsessed with me,” she says. She finally gets the chocolate unwrapped and throws it in her mouth. “Oh, this is so disappointing. I thought you had figured out what this was really about, but you fell for it.”
Chloe rewinds their Google Doc. Was she—were they having two completely different conversations?
“No. No way. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would you want me to—to be obsessed with you?”
It’s time for the kick in the teeth—the flat reminder that this is the exact type of joke that straight girls like Shara inflict on girls like Chloe who have the misfortune of being queer in their line of sight.
But what Shara says is, “I didn’t get in to Harvard.”
