Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit by Jaye Robin Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

photographer, but I inherited my creativity (orlack of it) from him. Other than that, the room is bland. What’s the point in unpacking, though? All the things that will make my room feel like me—my Pride memorabilia, pictures of Dana and me, my coveted Ruby Rose poster—won’t fall into Dad, or should I say Mrs. Foley, approved décor.
    I pull up one of the DIY boards I follow on the computer and start looking at cool light fixtures when Dana pops up on my chat.
    How goes it, oh suburban one?
    It’s tight. Got me a boyfriend. Took myself to the Baptist church. Call my grandpa Tater.
    You’re shitting me.
    Sort of. The guy is my friend and Tater gives me Life Savers.
    Any babes?
    My eyes are closed to babes.
    Don’t believe you.
    Dana should believe me. I’ve never looked at girls, except for some clandestine make-out sessions on the fly, because girls mean heartbreak and I’ve never needed a girlfriend because I’ve had her. Except right now I feel confused. B.T.B.’s sister keeps popping into my head. And even though Mary Carlson thinks I’m straight (go me) and dating her brother, I couldn’t stop glancing her way duringyouth group. It’s stupid because I don’t even know her, but sometimes you see someone and there’s just this flicker. Like a light bulb that glows around the person, making them shine brighter than all the others. It’s not that they’re more attractive or smarter or funnier than anyone else. It’s just they have a combination of all the things that speak directly to you. And Mary Carlson, stranger that she is, fascinates me. But it’s stupid. Mary Carlson probably has a six-foot-tall boyfriend named Charles III who they call Trey and a promise ring on her pinky. And I’m not like Dana, I can’t hook up for funsies. Truth be told, I’m terrified to hook up at all.
    Seriously, Dana. Better off not to look if I can’t sample.
    Whatevs. Off the hook party this weekend you missed.
    She attaches a selfie of her licking a shot off some little pink-haired scene girl’s chest.
    Nice. You playing it safe?
    Condoms in my pocket, bitch.
    Not what I meant. I want you with me next summer on those killer waves.
    Mama’s in Rome. Baby’s gonna play.
    That pisses me off. I’m not her mother, and even if I am a bore compared to her when it comes to drinking and drugs, she doesn’t have to treat me like I bring her down. Most people would kill to have their very own designated driver.
    OD for all I care.
    You worry too much.
    My residual anger over the whole wedding night incident flares.
    Because you’re an idiot.
    Oooh, pink-haired girl on my chat. She calls herself Willow.
    As quick as Dana bounced on the screen, she bounces off. I rub my face and am surprised when my hands come away with makeup on them.
    The next week at school, I follow my newly established routine. Discuss elephant facts with B.T.B. in the morning. Go to my first two blocks. Discuss elephant facts and Marnie with B.T.B. at lunch. Go to my second two blocks. On Wednesday, in my Latin I class, a guy with glasses and a perfectly round face turns around from the desk in front of me.
    â€œYou came to my church on Sunday. With B.T.B.” He smiles. “I didn’t know they let Mr. Ned’s kids take foreign language classes. I’m George.” I guess he must have gotten a schedule change, because I don’t remember him being in here before. He holds out his hand to shake mine. I stare at it. People are quick to jump to any conclusion up here.
    â€œRight,” he says, pulling his hand back. “You might not like contact. I’ve heard that. But hey, you know, if you want help don’t be afraid to ask.”
    I don’t bother opening my mouth, only stare till he turns around and faces the teacher. I would text Dana to tell her about my ongoing disguise, but I haven’t heard from her since she ditched