-I need you, boo-
"Change it."
"But I like this song!"
Change it, Ginny!"
"But-"
Sasha stabbed the button on the dash with a scowl. That was the last thing she needed, a song to remind her how unfair and sucky life is.
Mel started singing along to the next song from the back seat.
"Oh, what you do to me-"
"Plain White Tees? Really? Play good music, you stupid...!" Another stab.
"We could always play the CD Godot made for Boo," said Ginny with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle as Sasha tried in vain to find a decent song on the radio.
"Guys, I don't take it with me everywhere." Boo's cheeks flushed.
"I don't see why not," said Mel. "If it were me, I'd sleep with it under my pillow."
"That's where she keeps his shirt when she's not wearing it. Duh."
"There's room for both, Ginny!"
"Let's just hope he doesn't give her his lucky bowling ball or pet porcupine," added Sasha.
"Mrow. Someone's jealous," quipped Ginny.
"Please. Michelle's right- he doesn't shower, he's dumber than Mel's brother-"
"-that's true-"
"-and he'll be unemployed for the rest of his life if his parents lose the bar."
"And why would Sasha ever be jealous of me?" asked Boo innocently.
"I'm not jealous!" Sasha snapped, which was partly true. Not jealous of Boo, anyway.
The rest of the ride to Madame Fanny's dance studio was filled with an exchange of idle gossip between Mel, Ginny, and Boo with Sasha brooding in the driver's seat. When they got there, Ginny and Mel piled out quickly, but Boo lingered.
"Hey, Sasha?" she began tentatively.
"What?" Sasha slammed her door.
"Things haven't always been awesome between us, but they've been better lately and..."
Boo bit her lip. Sasha had to remind herself not to stare. Not to get sucked into those big hazel eyes. Not to be so gay.
"And I don't want this thing with Godot to make things hard again. If it really means a lot to you, I could talk you up to him, maybe suggest a double date?"
"That's sweet, Boo. But I don't need your sympathy. I'm fine, don't worry about me."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course." Sasha flashed her best fake smile. "You go ahead, I have to grab my bag from the trunk."
After Boo disappeared into the studio, Sasha pressed her forehead against her car. Some days were harder than others in this dilemma, but today was a doozy. Everything reminded her of what she couldn't have and wasn't supposed to want.
"Boy troubles?"
Sasha jumped. Michelle was leaning next to her, her arms folded casually.
"Geeze, don't you have anything better to do than stalk teenage girls?"
"I don't have cable, so no. And since Paradise is made up of 75% teenage girls and the rest of the population is boring old people and crazy drunks, it seemed like a good hobby when I decided to take it up last week. So what's the drama, mama?"
"You need professional help."
"Undeniably. You gonna talk about it or are you gonna stand here all afternoon and get car all over your forehead?"
"I'm not going to enable your filthy addiction."
"Ooh, the claws come out. So if I guess will you tell me about it?"
"If you guess and I tell you about it will you go away?"
"Touche. And yes."
"Then fine. Guess away."
"Does it involve a certain surfing bartender? Or bartending surfer, whichever he prefers."
"Warm."
"Does it have to do with said Adonis showing interest in a mutual acquaintance of ours?"
"Ish."
"Ish, huh? Oh! Does he think he's pregnant with your child but told Boo that she's the mother?"
"What?"
"I stand by it."
"Really? Really?"
"What? He's dumb enough to think it happened and Boo-"
Sasha clenched her fist unconsciously.
"I was going to say she isn't much brighter than he is even though she's sweet, but I sense I may have hit the prize-winning nerve. Not such a fan of our loveable Boo?"
"Ha."
"Hmm." Michelle scrutinized Sasha's face, which she had skillfully smoothed into a neutral expression. "That was cryptic, even for you. So either you really, really hate her or..."
"Or?" challenged Sasha, aggressively lifting an eyebrow.
"Or you wish our Boo was your Boo."
To have the idea she'd never put into words, the words she never dared speak aloud, laid bare in front of her, spoken so offhandedly by someone she didn't really even know, was too much. The younger girl's lip trembled as she fought to hold on to her mask. Her eyes filled with tears. She turned her back on Michelle and wiped them angrily.
"The closeted gay guy's daughter is also gay. Big surprise. Bet you wish you'd invested in stealing someone's cable."
Her body started shaking with silent sobs. Michelle placed her hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Hey, it's no big. So you're into girls. I'm pretty sure Glee already covered this topic. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch it on Netflix. But watch the one where Kurt comes out. Even though it was insanely obvious and he didn't so much come out of the closet as the closet came out of him, it's more sensitive to the topic than the episode where Santana is dragged out kicking and screaming. Stupid writers. Or is it not so much the being into girls thing as it is you're worried that Boo doesn't return the sentiment?"
"I guess that's part of it. She's never given me any real reason to think she does. She's friendly to everyone, you know? And even if she isn't into Godot, she's been into Mel's idiot brother forever." Sasha shrugged Michelle's hand off. "It's so stupid! She deserves better than both of them. They're both dumber than rocks, but because they're dudes they automatically have a better chance than I do."
They stood in silence for a bit, Sasha fixing her makeup in the window.
"So what are you gonna do?"
"Sasha!" Boo ran out of the studio in full ballet regalia. "Sasha, Madame Fanny says to get in here right now or she'll feed your legs to Michelle's possum friend!"
"Coming!" Sasha hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. Before leaving, she turned to Michelle and sighed.
"I don't know what I'm going to do. Do you promise not to tell anyone?"
"Your secret's safe with me, kid."
As she watched the young ballerina hurry to avoid one of Madame Fanny's punishments, Michelle mulled over the exchange that had just taken place.
"It's not my possum friend. More like an acquaintance, if anything. My possum acquaintance."