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Ironically, they were in a closet when it happened.
Lucy thought the boy’s annual day of pranks was kind of stupid, yes, but a great distraction from her growing, tragically unrequited crush on her taken friend. So, when the opportunity arose, she was all in. Toilet paper in one hand, whoopee cushion in the other, and winning on her mind. Unfortunately for her, James seemed to have only her on his mind.
And she felt for him. She really, really did. She was in the same boat, kind of, and crushing on someone who’d never like you back? It was really hard. But that didn’t make her want to punch him any less whenever he started flirting or tried getting them alone, and today she couldn’t seem to shake him.
So, now, they were in a closet, and James just turned the lights off.
“On.” Lucy deadpanned.
“You should date me,” James said as he flicked the switch back with one hand, while a mini water gun was held with the other.
“You’re not my type!” She knew he wouldn’t accept that answer. After all, James Diamond was most people’s type. She had the mind to admit that he was a beautiful person. Physically strong, piercing green eyes, and tall, as well as being talented and nice, even when he was annoying. It was no surprise he wasn't used to rejection.
“Oh, so your type isn’t gorgeous and amazing and sensitive?” James asked.
“My type isn’t…forget it.”
James must’ve seen the actual frustration paint her face. “Not what?”
Her heart raced in her chest. She didn’t mean for that to slip. She should have just rolled her eyes and scoffed like she usually did. She had never told anyone this. She hadn’t even fully accepted it herself.
“It’s stupid. Forget it.”
James looked down, almost pouting, desperately curious. “I doubt it’s stupid.”
“My type…It’s not—I can't—” Why couldn’t she say it? This lack of confidence didn’t suit her.
“Is this about Kendall?”
What?
“Don’t look at me like that,” James said, but there was no bite. “If you’re not over him, I get it. I can wait—”
“James, no, I don't like Kendall. I never liked Kendall,” Lucy confessed.
She tried. She thought she might be able to, and she probably would have kept trying if Jo never came back. Perhaps her reappearance was a blessing in disguise. (That didn’t make not getting picked hurt any less, funnily enough.)
“Do you think I’m, like, ugly?” James asked, eyes squinted, as if he were judging her taste.
Lucy couldn't help but let out a surprised laugh. He was ridiculous.
“I...think you're a man.”
James blinked, utterly confused.
Lucy took a deep breath. “Men aren’t my type.”
She never said it out loud. Now that she had, she didn’t really feel lighter; she just felt kind of dizzy.
“...Oh.”
“Yeah,” Lucy said, awkwardly.
His eyes darted around the closet, his lips in a thin line as he processed. “Well, that sucks…wait! I mean, that sucks for me because I like you, and now I’m really embarrassed and mildly disappointed, but it’s great for you! I just never would have guessed because Beau and Kendall—well, maybe I should have guessed, because your hair is kind of gay.”
Okay, now Lucy felt lighter.
“I have gay hair?” Lucy asked, a stifled laugh forcing a smile on her lips.
“Don't act like you don’t know what I mean! I also have gay hair. I’m just not a gay person.”
“Right, of course,” she said, her tone dripping in sarcasm. She was sure it made sense to him.
And then there was silence. Only, it was not long and awkward. It was just there until it was broken.
“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time.
“Okay, well, don't apologize for being gay,” James said.
“No, no, I’m sorry that you like me. I know how much it sucks to like someone who can’t like you back.”
“I’m sorry I kept chasing after you. That must’ve been uncomfortable.”
“Less uncomfortable. More pathetic on your behalf.”
“That’s fair.” James nodded.
“We’re good, right? Still friends?”
“Imagine if I said no.”
“James!”
“Kidding! I’m kidding!” James assured. “Of course we are. You aren’t the first lesbian I have accidentally fallen for.”
Lucy snorted. “How does that happen?”
“I just really like girls. But, hey, that means I can totally wingman for you.”
“Damn, over me that quickly?”
“Would you rather I grovel?”
“A little,” she joked.
“Well, James Diamond doesn't grovel! Except for that one time…and that other time…and—whatever! I’m helping! Any girls that have caught your eye since you’ve come back?”
“Just the one that has an exhausting on-again, off-again relationship with your best friend.”
“Camille?”
“Yes?” When she said it, it sounded more like a question. She was ashamed to be crushing on someone taken. Especially being friends with both her and Logan. It made her feel almost traitorous. She certainly couldn't imagine James would be too okay with the news either. Logan was like a brother to him.
“Oh, that’s easy! Just wait for them to be off again," James said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I give it, like, a week and a half tops. You don’t even have to be too patient.”
“Oh my god, James!” She let out a shocked cackle. “That’s horrible!”
“Please. They would do well with some more space.”
“Camille is probably straight!”
“Is that a joke? Look at her. She definitely dabbles.”
“Dabbles,” Lucy repeated, slowly. James may be the most unintentionally funny person she’s ever met.
“Wait, is that problematic? Am I stereotyping? I think it’s just gaydar.” James said.
“Well, if you have such great gaydar, is there something you want to share?” She teased.
“What, that I’m gay? Nah. If I were gay, I’d totally just say it. I’d rock gay. Like, I think I’d be really good at it.”
“Elaborate.”
“Well, my previously mentioned gay hair, my impeccable fashion sense, my strut.”
“This has to be some type of offensive thing, but I'm laughing, so I’ll let it slide.”
“I have a great strut.”
“Right.”
“And great wingman abilities.”
“Fine, you’re hired.”
James bumped a fist into the air. “Nice.”
“And…thanks for being cool.”
“I’m always cool,” He said proudly, before swinging the door open. “Now, let’s get outta here. It’s getting stuffy, and that’s not good for my hair.”
“You’re gay, gay hair.”
“The very same.”
Lucy smiled to herself as she stepped out of the cramped closet. It was almost poetic—until she felt water spray her in the back and drench her leather jacket.
“King of pranks!” She heard him yell behind her before booking it towards the pool with his water gun aimed at an unsuspecting Gustavo.
Welp. She was out in more ways than one.