"I'm just saying," Fusco said, holding his hands up defensively, "just because two unmarried women live together for 40 years, it doesn't mean that they're lesbians."
Root rolled her eyes. "You just don't want them to be lesbians. You want all the girls for yourself."
Fusco smirked, shrugging. "What can I say? I like the ladies."
Snorting, Reese dropped his phone down onto the table. "Too bad they don't like you."
Root smiled and leaned forward. She would never have expected to be friends with a boy like Fusco, but he wasn't too bad. She'd been skeptical when he'd joined their feminism class a week late, but Reese had vouched for him. Apparently, they'd been friends since middle school and Reese thought he could use the class, too.
They were eating lunch at one of the picnic tables outside of the student union, the weather cool and comfortable. She pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. Root was glad she made friends so early. Back home, she hadn't wanted them, no one in her town was particularly interesting or nice, but the big city felt a little lonely.
"Ok," Fusco muttered, trying to scoop as much rice onto his tiny plastic spoon as possible, "but some of them were just trying to keep their jobs. If they got married, they would have to quit being teachers."
"Sure," Root conceded. "Some of them. Some of them were lesbians."
Fusco scoffed. He lifted his stacked spoon to his mouth, but froze. With his mouth open, he glanced at Root. "Wait. Are you a lesbian?"
Root hesitated. She was out, but she wasn't sure how Fusco would react. He was brash and a little rude, but Reese had taken it in stride. Root took a breath.
"Yeah," she said, feigning calm. "I am."
"Cool," Fusco said, shoving his spoon in his mouth. He spoke with a mouth full of rice. "Then you probably know more about Boston Marriages than me."
Laughing, Root nodded, glad that he had taken it well. "I probably do."
She turned towards Reese to ask if he wanted to meet in the library tonight to study, but he was texting on his phone. He'd been preoccupied the whole meal, glued to his phone. He'd put it down and then pick it up again a second later. Root wondered what was happening with him. She was supposed to go over to his apartment this coming weekend and meet his sister, but maybe they were fighting.
"You know I love technology," Root said, scooting closer on the bench and trying to read over his shoulder, "but you should pay some attention to the people around you."
Reese looked up at her sheepishly. He put his phone down. "Sorry. Girl stuff."
"Ooh," Root cooed, pulling a leg onto the bench so she could face him fully, "do tell. Is it Zoe?"
"I won't bore you with my love life."
Root pouted, punching his arm lightly. "I'm very single, Reese. I want to know! Besides, we're friends! I can help you understand the dark and twisted female psyche."
"Can you help me?" Fusco asked, mouth full again.
"Some people are beyond help, Lionel. I'm so sorry."
Reese's phone buzzed and he picked it up again. "It's Zoe. She wants to go on a date, but I don't know where to take her. She doesn't want to go to the movies or the diner on campus."
Root's eyebrows rose and she chuckled. "Seriously, Reese? Take her to a nice restaurant! She's a classy lady! 'the diner on campus'? Wow."
Reese flushed and he started texting. "Thanks," he mumbled as he typed.
Root turned back to Fusco, smiling. She leaned on the table. "So, you've known Reese for a long time?"
"Yeah," Fusco grinned. "We've been glued together since six grade. He moved in next door after his dad left the Marines."
"That's cool." Root smiled at him. "I'm sure you were two troublemakers."
"Three," Fusco corrected her. "Shaw was our third musketeer. Well, she still is."
Root perked up. Shaw must be Reese's sister. Root couldn't even imagine what she was like. She had to be at least a little quiet if she grew up with Reese, but she had to have energy, too, if she ran around with Fusco. Selfishly, Root hoped she was hot.
"I'm meeting her this weekend," Root said. "I hope she likes me."
Fusco snorted loudly, shaking his head. "Shaw doesn't like anyone. Don't take it personally when she ignores you. That girl is a mystery wrapped in an enigma and she can be really mean. She's cool, though."
"Well," Root said as she pushed her hair over her shoulder, "she's never met anyone like me before."
Reese put his phone down. "Zoe is excited for the date now, so thank you. I'm taking her to some very expensive restaurant on Friday night."
"That's great!" Root grinned at him. "Bring her flowers."
"I'll text you my address later," Reese said, gathering his trash. "You can come over any time on Saturday. We all get up really early."
"Speak for yourself," Fusco laughed. "I wake up after noon on weekends. They're for resting! I'm not a muscle head like you two crazies."
Standing, Reese just shrugged. "Chicks dig muscles, Lionel."
"Whatever," Fusco muttered, as he stood up, too. "Do we really have to go to Anthropology? Let's play Fifa instead."
"No." Reese pulled his backpack onto his shoulders. "We are going to class. We'll play Fifa with Shaw later."
"Ugh," Fusco groaned, grabbing his bag, "fine."
Root waved at them, resting her chin on her hand. "Bye, boys. I'll see you tomorrow."
They waved at her and left, taking their trash with them. Root watched them go before sighing. She didn't have another class in the afternoon, so she was just going to go home. Spending the day at Reese's tomorrow meant that she wouldn't have much time to work on her personal projects. Hopefully she could get a lot done that afternoon.
Raised voices made her look around. Across the open courtyard of the student union, she spotted her mystery girl. She was arguing with a boy, her hands curled into fists. Root looked her over, admiring the way she managed to look so good in sweatpants. Her hair was hidden inside a black beanie.
Root was too far to hear what they were fighting about, but it didn't look friendly. The boy was pointing at the girl's face, his face angry. Sighing, Root wondered if being happy that the girl was going through a break-up made her a bad person. She'd be single now and available for Root to kiss.
Wait. If Mystery Girl was just breaking up with her boyfriend, then had she cheated when she kissed Root? Root rolled her eyes. One kiss wasn't always cheating. Maybe this fight was about her and how the girl had kissed her in front of a bunch of people. Root rolled her eyes again. Her speculation would get her nowhere.
Still, she watched the couple argue and tried to determine if she needed to step in. She wasn't very strong, but sometimes a few well-chosen words could stop a fight in its tracks. The boy grabbed Root's mystery girl by the arm and Root hurriedly climbed over the bench to her feet. She had only taken a couple steps when the girl shoved the boy away hard enough to make him trip over his feet and fall to the ground.
"Wow," Root breathed, her pulse quickening.
The girl was so strong. Root remembered her how muscular her legs were and the way her strong arms had wrapped around Root at the party last weekend. Suddenly, Root felt dumb. Why had she jumped to her feet? The girl could take care of herself and Root didn't even know her. Who was she to just step in to a romantic fight.
Slowly coming to terms with the fact that her dream girl was dating a boy and was unavailable, Root sighed. She glanced one more time across the courtyard and tense. The girl was staring at her, face unreadable. Goosebumps raised on her arms and Root felt like she had seen something she shouldn't have.
Instead of yelling or beating Root up, the girl just waved. Root awkwardly lifted a hand to wave back. After a moment, the girl dropped her hand and walked away, leaving the boy behind. He stared after her, scowling, before turning to glare at Root. She waved at him, too.
He climbed to his feet and dusted his pants off. Root had to admit that he wasn't bad looking. Sure, the whole bomber jacket/bald head look was trying a little too hard to be cool, but he had a nice jawline and she could tell that he was fit.
She turned away from him and moved back to her stuff. Maybe she should put mystery girl out of her mind. One wonderful kiss and a few winks didn't mean anything. The girl was so confident and cool; if she really wanted to talk to Root, she would have. Besides, she had a boyfriend.
Root picked up her backpack and checked her phone. Reese hadn't texted her his address yet, but she was already looking forward to tomorrow. If she couldn't have Mystery Girl, then she'd make a move on Reese's gym-crazy, stand-offish sister. One way or another, Root would get a girl.
