Archive of Our Own

Kendall was sweet.

Really, really sweet, like one of the candies Carlos would buy in bulk from the vending machine in the lobby. He'd hand one to Jo when she'd enter the Palmwoods after a day on set, before rushing off somewhere—probably to 2J or to cannonball in the pool. When she'd unwrap the candy and put it in her mouth, her teeth ached, like a warning sign for an incoming cavity.

Sometimes, when Kendall kissed Jo, she thought he'd give her a cavity.

Seriously, he was great. Talented, good-looking, funny (and occasionally hilarious), blessed with cute dimples… she could go on and on just listing his traits. Funnily enough, he was like a Ken doll; he was anyone and everyone's perfect dream guy.

Just not hers.

The realization came to her on some random, unimportant summer day; she couldn't fully remember that detail, but she remembered everything else.

Like most summer days in L.A., it was extremely hot. With two fans at maximum speed pointed at her, the windows open and curtains closed, Jo lay in a starfish position on her bed, her half-naked body shining with sweat. She listened to the 60s radio peacefully with her eyes closed when The Beatles were suddenly interrupted by the sound of her cellphone ringing. It was Kendall's ringtone.

Without opening her eyes, she felt around her comforter with an outstretched arm for the source of the ringing. She quickly found it and brought it up to her ear, pressing the button to pick up.

"Hey," Kendall's voice sounded from the other end, a smile evident in his voice.

"Hey," Jo repeated back, reaching out to fix the position of one of the fans to blow directly onto her face. "You sound happy. What's up?"

"Well, because I'm such an awesome boyfriend, I saved you a lounge chair by the pool. Just hurry before James steals it."

Jo grinned. A day by the pool was just what she needed in the oppressive heat—the UV was probably perfect for a great tan, too. And, as long as the pool wasn't too crowded with kids, she'd take a nice dip in the cool water. It sounded like heaven in this weather.

"I'll be down in a few minutes. Thank you, Kendall." She took the phone away from her ear, only able to hear a faint you're welcome, and she hung up.

Two minutes later, she was walking down the hall, wearing sunglasses and her swimsuit under a pink cover-up, her flip-flops clicking as she stepped into the elevator and pressed the lobby button. As the doors closed, she saw James speed-walking down the hallway with a towel slung over his shoulder, clearly having the same idea as her. She couldn't help her quiet laughter on the way down when she saw the look on his face, and she was by the pool in record time.

Sure enough, Kendall had saved her a seat, his belongings scattered on top of it to show that it was taken. When he noticed Jo, he sat up from his relaxed position on his own chair and moved his things, allowing her to sit down. She kissed him on the cheek as a thank you.

Jo settled in, taking off her cover-up and rummaging around in her bag, trying to find her sunscreen. A moment later, the slap of sandals against the ground approached quickly.

"Aw, dude!" James complained loudly, standing between Jo and Kendall's chairs, his grievance directed at his friend. "That's my chair!"

Kendall pursed his lips and looked down at the chair he sat on, checking the seat and the backrest. After a few seconds of inspection, he said, "Hmm. Nope. Doesn't have your name on it."

"Yeah, obviously, but, like, that's my chair."

Jo drowned out their harmless bickering, finally finding the bottle of sunscreen and screwing off the cap, squeezing some out into her palm. She was so ready to close her eyes for an hour and listen to music on her iPod without any distractions.

"What are you guys arguing about now?" Logan's voice said from Jo's left, breaking through her fantasy of a perfect day.

"Nothing important," Kendall replied, lounging with his hands behind his head, his sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. "James is just mad he was too late to get a chair."

Logan snorted, a green pool noodle in hand. "James, didn't you know? You snooze, you lo—"

A slap echoed throughout the pool area of the Palmwoods, but everyone was unfazed and minded their business. Everyone except for Logan, who was groaning in pain and rubbing his cheek.

Camille stood in front of Jo's chair, her index finger stabbing Logan's chest accusingly, her other hand balled up in a fist at her side. "You!" She shrieked, eyebrows furrowed in faux anger. She continued to yell, practicing for whatever role she was going for, but Jo could barely make out her monologue when her eyes were trained on… Well.

Camille was in a purple bikini with her hair in a loose ponytail, strands of her signature dark, curly hair clinging to her neck. Jo watched her chest rise and fall rapidly, putting on a show of desperation mixed with rage as she continued to berate Logan, her hands flailing. She seemed to have a slight tan herself, and the sun shone on her in all the right places, accentuating the curve of her hips and the tone in her arms.

What Jo was trying to say was… Camille looked hot. Pun intended.

This wasn't exactly news to Jo—it was no secret that Camille was beautiful. That was just a well-known fact by everyone, but this. This was different.

Before, Jo could look at Camille and see her best friend. Her lips would quirk up if they unintentionally ran into each other in the lobby, and she'd immediately go in for a hug. Before, Jo could lie down on her bed with Camille at her side as they flipped through magazines. That was normal.

Now, as Jo looked at Camille, everything was wrong. She couldn't tell if her heart had stopped beating completely or if it was going three hundred beats per second. Her throat practically constricted, drying her tongue and blocking words from coming out, and her eyes widened involuntarily, doing twenty look-overs of Camille's body in one minute. She was floored, to say the least.

Jo blinked. She blinked again, and Camille was still standing there, now having a civil conversation with the three boys, arms crossed over her chest. How could they act so normal around her? Jo thought stupidly, glancing rapidly between each person. It appeared that she was the only one freaking out.

Hello? She wanted to yell at her friends. Why aren't you guys saying anything? Compliment her! She looks so good!

Jo failed to realize that she could say something, but she was too busy staring to get a word out.

Then, with a wave goodbye, Camille was gone as quickly as she had come, pulling out a cover-up from seemingly thin air and padding into the building.

What the hell just happened?

"Jo," Kendall said, cutting through the static of Jo's mind and placing a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Clearing her throat, she tore her eyes away from the lobby entrance and nodded to her boyfriend—oh God, she had a boyfriend—in a robotic manner. "Yeah, sorry. It must be the heat getting to me. I think I just need to cool off."

Standing up, she quickly applied the sunscreen she'd left on her palm for almost two minutes and tied her hair back with a hair tie.

"If you're swimming, does that mean I can take your chair?" James asked, gesturing to her seat.

Jo rolled her eyes, a smile finding its way onto her lips. "No, James. Go share with Carlos."

On the opposite side of the pool, Carlos was sprawled out on a lounge chair, his helmet covering his face to block the sun. James huffed and stomped around the body of water, using the cloth over his shoulder to towel-whip his friend awake. Carlos woke with a start, searching for the culprit. His eyes widened, then narrowed, and Jo recognized that look. Usually, a look like that from Carlos resulted in a strike from Bitters or another check ripped out of Kelly's checkbook.

"You should probably wait a minute, Jo," Logan said, sitting at the foot of Kendall's lounge chair, pointing at the idiotic duo with his thumb. "They'll just wrestle each other into the water."

Like clockwork, Carlos lunged at James, and James planted his feet, standing his ground. They grabbed at each other, trying to be the first one to push the other into the water, but they ended up flinging each other in instead and falling at the same time.

Jo waited for them to stop splashing each other, then got in a short minute later.

Later that night, when Jo was back in her bedroom, she thought. A lot.

She stayed up until dawn just thinking, staring up at her illuminated ceiling with wide eyes, the moonlight filtering onto the surface from her window. She went over every single moment of her life, trying to figure out if she'd always been this way.

Surely this was new, right?

When she was twelve, she watched Bring It On at a sleepover with a group of her school friends. It was probably the least appropriate movie they could've watched at the time (I can just rent She's All That instead, guys, she'd said), but by the end, she was no longer complaining. Watching Isis dance with The Clovers made her forget all about the offensive humor riddled throughout the film.

But Jo only felt that way because she wanted to be a great actress, and seeing Gabrielle Union play Isis only deepened that desire. Or at least she thought.

There was another instance in elementary school when she was searching for something interesting to read at the library, slipping books out from their place on the shelf and reading the summary on the back. Taking one out from a lower shelf, she admired the colorful, eye-catching cover and was immediately intrigued. She turned the book over and was greeted by the author's photo instead of a synopsis, and she froze.

She checked out the book shortly after, studying everything about the woman's photo. Her dark curls, the curve of her shy smile, the intense look in her blue eyes. It was hypnotic to fourth-grade Jo.

But that was only because… well… okay. Jo didn't know how to rationalize that one.

After those first two memories, everything came back to her, one by one, like dominoes falling over in a uniform line. Actresses she respected, women passing by on the street, photos of models in clothing stores, and so much more. Hell, just last week, Jo was sneaking glances at a girl her age in the waiting room of an open audition. She just thought she was jealous!

Every feeling and reaction had been buried, justified by doing some complicated mental gymnastics, then subsequently forgotten. Now, though, she was digging everything back up, and it was getting clearer by the second. And confusing. And scary.

But what about Kendall? She loved him, didn't she?

Right?

She blinked at her ceiling, chewing at her bottom lip. Yes, she did love him, more than she loved most people. But she could do without the pet names. And the labels. And the kissing.

Huh. Okay.

Yes, Jo loved Kendall, but it wasn't romantic. All this time, she thought it was—and maybe at one point, it had been—but that seemed to be gone.

The honeymoon phase had been over for a long time. Maybe the feeling of having someone care for her, having someone be totally obsessed with her, was what made her stomach flip every time; the idea of someone being so desperate to be hers was what made her twirl her hair like a girl. It was intoxicating sometimes.

But, as sweet as it was, she didn't like the feeling left in her stomach after kissing Kendall on the lips. It was like a stomachache, a concoction of emotions that left a bad taste in her mouth and a sick feeling in her gut.

Jo rolled over in bed restlessly, the thin, cool sheets twisting with her body. Through her balcony doors, she could see that the sky was still dark, but the clock on her nightstand flashed three-thirty a.m. in neon numbers. It was way too late—or early, whatever—and she had an audition in the afternoon.

She decided to sleep on everything before making any big decisions.

Three days had passed, and Jo still hadn't made up her mind.

Kendall still kissed her, and Camille still texted her every hour of the day. Everything was normal.

Except it really wasn't, because Jo practically gritted her teeth behind her lips with each kiss, and every text notification from Camille made her head spin. To everyone else, nothing had changed, but to Jo, everything had changed.

But, for the time being, she'd just pretend that things were fine. That was easy; she was an actress, after all. It was her job to pretend. She could do fifty takes of kissing scenes with Jett without breaking a sweat. The only problem was that… well, it was Jett. That spoke for itself.

Now, Jo's mantra was "work first, identity crisis later". Before, it had always been "boyfriend later", but Kendall had thrown a wrench in that plan, and now it was Camille's turn.

Jo wasn't so sure if she liked that.

She was supposed to be the All-American girl. All-American girls were nice, caring, smart, and, most importantly, they had boyfriends. All-American girls didn't like girls. They didn't hang out in their best friend's room only to be distracted when she put lipstick on. That's not how it worked.

She sat on the floor in front of her balcony, not wanting to go out on it, but still needing a cool breeze to survive the late evening heat. She didn't feel like being seen by anyone by the pool or fire pit.

For the past three days, her nights usually ended like this: in a tank top and pajama pants, sitting on the floor, in a mental crisis. She constantly went back and forth in her mind—the first night, she was a bad person for leading Kendall on. The next night, she decided she was still figuring out her feelings, and if she was completely wrong about them, she didn't want to end something that was going well.

Last night, Jo just thought about Camille. Her breath-taking smile. Her undeniable talent. Her kind heart and her ridiculous sense of humor. It was almost like she was the most amazing girl in the entire city of Los Angeles.

Sometimes, Jo wanted to be on the receiving end of one of Camille's iconic slaps, wanted to be poked repeatedly in the chest by an accusatory finger, wanted a rehearsed speech screamed in her face without batting an eye. She probably wouldn't even flinch, because she wanted it.

It was an odd desire, Jo knew that for sure—it was like a guilty pleasure. If they could help it, Kendall and Logan would opt out of being Camille's go-to test dummies forever, but Jo wanted to feel the rush of being in the middle of the perfect storm that was Camille. She was beginning to need it. If she had to take one of the boys' spots, then so be it.

But that was last night. Tonight, Jo was a bad person again. Some might even say the worst person in the entire Palmwoods.

With her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees, she listened to the fire pit jam session that was currently happening down below. Guitar Dude was strumming an unfamiliar melody while the boys performed their impressive layered harmonies, the sound filtering into Jo's bedroom. She could hear people clapping along and the faint chatter of their voices.

It sounded great. It was too bad Jo was skipping it. Hopefully, nobody was missing her too badly.

Her thoughts drifted back to Camille. She was probably down there with the rest of the Palmwoods, having fun. She was probably swaying to the music, a grin on her face as she enjoyed herself, her eyes glued to Logan.

Ah. Jo scrunched her nose. She didn't really like picturing that.

And that's when it clicked.

And she might've screamed.

She immediately regretted it, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. The music outside tapered out, energetic conversations quickly morphing into concerned murmurs. Almost instantly, her dad was knocking on her door, questioning her in a worried tone.

Jo hurriedly closed the balcony doors and drew the curtains, rounding her bed to open the bedroom door.

"Are you alright, Jo? What was that?" Her dad asked once they faced each other, his forehead creased.

"I'm fine, Dad. I— I thought I saw something outside. I was just startled," She attempted to reassure him, her hand resting on her hip.

But, of course, he was suspicious, and he crossed his arms. With a background like his, it was basically his job to question every little thing Jo did. Did she blame him? No. Was she constantly annoyed with him? Yeah, obviously.

She could understand him this time, though, because there was zero reason for her to be screaming in the evening. She didn't even have the television on or anything.

"Are you sure?" He tried again. "That was pretty loud."

"Yes, Dad, I'm positive. Everything's fine."

With squinted eyes, her dad craned his head into her bedroom and looked around, doing a quick scan to make sure she wasn't lying. She sighed and waited for his inspection to be done.

Once he was done, he nodded. "Okay," he said, backing away. "Okay. If you're scared, just holler."

Jo returned the nod with a flat smile and shut her door. She walked a few steps to her bed and flopped down face-first, suppressing the urge to scream again. At least it would be muffled by her mattress.

She sucked! She really did.

She figured she'd get a few more days of stupidly spiraling and beating around the bush, but the realization was almost instant. Jo was jealous. Jo wanted Camille.

And, yeah, the scream was completely unnecessary, but she didn't really lie. She was startled, although scared would be a better word.

The image of Camille giving Logan heart-eyes created a feeling similar to going down a tall drop on a rollercoaster in Jo's stomach, mixed with envy. Camille should be looking at her like that, with her head tilted and a warm, lazy smile.

Before, Jo just thought that Camille had inadvertently helped her figure out some things about herself. It seemed to be an isolated incident that led to Jo's spiral, and even though she noticed a change in her behavior around Camille, she didn't anticipate this—a complete and total shift of preferences and a newfound desire.

God, Kendall, she thought. I'm so, so sorry. Please don't hate me forever. Your girlfriend's in love with your best friend's on-and-off girl. Your girlfriend's in love with her best friend.

Jo was returning to the Palmwoods from an audition.

It went fine. Jo did the best she could with thoughts still running around in her mind, constantly distracting her. She had zoned out in the waiting room and almost missed her name being called, and if it weren't for the girl she always ran into at auditions tapping her shoulder, she definitely would've sat there for ten more minutes before snapping out of it.

It had been two days since Jo realized she was the worst person in the entire world, and she couldn't get Camille off her mind. She felt guilty and terrible for lying to two of the people she cared about the most, and most of all, she felt isolated. Seriously, she didn't know anyone who openly suffered from same-sex attraction.

Well. "Suffered" was an awfully offensive word to describe it, she thought as she walked into the Palmwoods lobby, bag hanging off her shoulder and her annotated script in hand. It was a little hard not to see it as suffering when all it did for her was make her feel horrible.

Look, all she needed was help. A shoulder to lean on, maybe, or someone to talk to, at the very least. Preferably, someone who would understand her. Someone who would reassure her.

Almost like the universe was listening to her thoughts, Jo spotted Logan sitting on one of the couches by himself, reading a medical magazine and holding a smoothie.

Surely he knew about same-sex attraction. He had to.

She knew he and Camille were sometimes a thing, but she'd also hung around him enough to know that it wasn't just girls he was interested in. Like, Jo had noticed he'd been a little touchy with Kendall before they were together. Whatever, she didn't care before, and she still didn't.

Logan was really easy to talk to, as well. Jo was willing to put her jealousy aside for five minutes for someone to understand her.

She rolled her shoulders subtly, trying to release any tension, and she approached Logan with as much friendliness and innocence as possible.

"Hi, Logan," she said, plastering an unsuspecting smile on her face. "What's up?"

He looked up from the magazine upon hearing her voice, and he smiled in return. "Oh, hey, Jo. Nothing much." Jo sat down next to him while he continued to speak, placing her bag down as he pointed to a paragraph on the page he was on. "Fun fact, did you know that if you sneeze hard enough, you can tear an artery in your neck and have a stroke?"

"Uh, no, I didn't. That doesn't sound very fun." She giggled, peeking over at the magazine to see what Logan was reading. Noticing her interest, Logan handed her the magazine and went to take a sip of his smoothie. She read the page for a second, looking at Logan through her peripheral vision, and decided to just rip the band-aid off. "You're gay, right?"

Logan proceeded to make a sound that could only be described as a strangled choke combined with an abrupt coughing fit, his fist flying up to cover his mouth. His eyebrows were practically raised to his hairline, his eyes wide.

Panicked, Jo hurriedly closed the magazine and reached out, patting Logan's back firmly in an attempt to help. She had no idea what to do in this situation; was he actually choking or just taken by surprise? She didn't really want to perform the Heimlich right now.

Whatever it was, Jo knew she had messed up.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so so sorry," She rushed out, taking the smoothie out of Logan's hand and placing it on the coffee table along with the magazine. "It was wrong of me to assume. I'm sorry."

Logan shook his head, his cough slightly subsiding, and Jo couldn't tell if it was a "no worries" gesture or a "I don't forgive you, please leave me alone forever" gesture. She sat there and waited, her hand stilling on his back as she looked on, concerned for him and disappointed in herself.

Eventually, when he recovered from his coughing, he cleared his throat. "It's fine. I'm just— I'm not gay. I don't even know where you got that idea from. Haha. Like, absolutely no clue. Bleep-blop-bloop." He was almost breathless as he spoke, smiling nervously.

Jo squinted, her eyebrows still furrowed in worry. Logan was never the best at lying, but she was going to respect him despite her suspicions. "Right. Well, again, I'm really sorry." She began to stand, shouldering her bag again.

"Where are you going?" Logan asked.

"My apartment."

"So, all you came to do was ask me if I'm gay or not?"

Jo realized what she was doing, and she winced. "Wait, okay. Sorry. I just… need to ask something to a gay person."

Logan shrugged. "I mean, I'm not gay, but I can help. I can try."

"Okay then," she replied, sitting back down. "Um. Do you have a problem with it?"

"Of course not. Have you met James?" Logan snorted, retrieving his magazine from the table. "Although I think he prefers the term 'metro-sexual'." He accompanied the last word with air quotes.

Jo laughed. "Okay, good to know. Anyway, my question for you, a hypothetical gay person, is… how do you figure out what you want without hurting people?"

Logan thought for a moment. "Is what you want…?" He trailed off, the implication clear as day to Jo. Obviously, he knew what she was talking about, although she didn't know if the words he was thinking of were "girls" or "not guys" or "boobs". She just hoped the word wasn't "Camille".

She nodded in confirmation, then clarified quickly, "But only hypothetically."

"Right. Of course," Logan said, equally as fast. "Well, I think you need to be honest with yourself first, then be honest with these 'people'. They'll understand."

She looked down at her nails, picking at a cuticle anxiously. "And if they don't?"

The thought made her shiver, a whisper of fear creeping down her spine. Kendall didn't seem like the judgmental type—at least, not for a topic like this. He'd judge someone's taste in music all day, but this was more serious. If he avoided her, she'd be completely lost as to what to do next. Not only that, but she'd also be devastated, because she truly did love him. More than anything, she wanted to stay friends.

And Camille. Would she be grossed out? Would she hate Jo? There was really only one outcome that she wanted, and even that seemed far-fetched. Camille had Logan; she didn't need Jo like she did Logan.

Logan, having seemingly picked up what she was getting at, replied, "They will, Jo. Trust me."

Well. Logan knew Kendall better than most, and way better than Jo—her under one year of knowing him was no match for Logan's decade. If he was so sure that Kendall would understand, then she had no choice but to trust him.

"Okay. I trust you," Jo said. Then, her face broke out into a shy smile. "This isn't really a lobby conversation, is it?"

Chuckling, Logan shook his head. "Nope. Not in the slightest."

Standing, Jo said, "Alright then, I guess I'll go be honest. Thank you, Logan."

He nodded with an earnest smile and flipped open the magazine he held. "No problem."

Twenty minutes later, Jo walked down the hall to apartment 2J, deliberately moving at a slower pace only to prolong the inevitable. She had to be honest with Kendall. It would be awful of her to lead him on in their relationship when it had abruptly turned one-sided.

It was so weird how a few nights could change her perspective on everything.

She rounded the corner and spotted the familiar door. The door she'd stood in front of countless times, waiting for Kendall or another one of the boys to answer her knocking. Those other times, she was there to hang out with Kendall in the apartment or go out on a date. Now, she was going to break it off with him.

God, that kind of hurt to think about. He'd been so good to her, taking her out on cute, girly picnics and countless movies, and what did he get in return? A girlfriend who constantly had to blow him off in favor of re-shooting scenes for New Town High. A girlfriend who probably didn't even like guys.

She stuffed her script in her bag, not caring about it getting crumpled. She'd already been wringing and twisting it around in her hands nervously—it was beyond saving at this point.

Standing in front of 2J, she raised her fist to knock, but hesitated. This was going to be really hard, but she had to get it over with. Be honest, and he'll understand.

Jo took a deep breath, held it momentarily, then knocked on the door rapidly while exhaling. Okay, it was happening. It had to happen.

The door opened almost instantly, and instead of being greeted by Kendall or his mom or someone Jo would expect, she faced Camille.

"Oh, perfect!" Camille exclaimed before Jo could say anything, her mouth slightly hanging open in surprise as Camille took her arm and led her inside the apartment. "You're just what we needed."

"I— What?" Jo stuttered out, suddenly confused and flustered. Camille wasn't alone; James and Carlos were talking in the kitchen, dressed as… futuristic soldiers, their chrome military attire reflecting the overhead lights and shining brightly. "Um. What are you guys doing?"

"Reading lines with Camille," James said, turning to Jo. "We're space soldiers in the year 3000, and she's the teenage military commander who turns the whole war around." He struck a pose, stiffly saluting and flashing his usual bright smile.

"And you're my super cool blonde best friend who's the best spacefighter pilot in the whole regime," Camille continued, handing Jo a script and a similar chrome jacket.

"Like Luke Skywalker," Carlos added.

Camille nodded. "Yeah. Like Luke Skywalker."

With the two items in her hands, Jo's eyes darted from her new belongings to her friends, who looked at her expectantly. She noticed Camille wore a low bun and an outfit that appeared to be an all-white military training outfit. It was really cute on her.

That wasn't a thought she could be having right now.

"I'd love to help, you guys," Jo started, handing the things back to Camille. "But I really need to talk to Kendall. Have you seen him?"

Carlos nodded, leaning against the counter. "He left, like, fifteen minutes ago with Logan to go to Rocque Records. Gustavo said he has a new song for us."

The room went silent, and Jo blinked. "So shouldn't you two be at Rocque Records?"

James and Carlos laughed in unison, James elbowing his friend in the side. "Us? No, it's our day off, and— oh my God. We need to be at Rocque Records," He said, his smile dropping immediately and his face serious. "Carlos! You said we had the day off!"

Puzzled, Carlos replied, "Isn't it Saturday?"

"No! It's Wednesday!"

Carlos's eyes widened as the realization dawned on him. "Dude! Gustavo's gonna kill us!"

"Not if Kelly kills us first." The two stood there dumbly, looking at each other with scared expressions, but neither of them made the move to leave. Jo and Camille shared a look, and Camille rolled her eyes. Jo's eyes lingered just a bit.

"Move out!" Camille yelled, abruptly in character.

The boys jumped with a scream and rushed out of the apartment, shedding their chrome jackets and tossing their prop helmets to the floor; Carlos clutched his usual black helmet at his side. The door slammed, and it was just Jo and Camille. Alone.

Oh.

Jo wouldn't make this weird. She wouldn't.

"Well, that sucks. I actually wanted to read this script, but I needed them for it," Camille sighed, taking out her bun and running her fingers through her hair. Jo followed the motion closely with her eyes.

With no way to talk to Kendall until he was done recording and a few hours to kill before she had to go to Colossal Studios to shoot, Jo said, "I can try my best to fill in for them."

Camille perked up. "Really? You'll read lines with me?"

Jo shrugged casually, trying not to let her friend's reaction get the best of her. Her heartbeat sped up when she saw how Camille got excited at her words. "Of course."

"Cool! Wait here for, like, five minutes. I have a different script we can read." Camille walked towards the door and shot Jo a thumbs-up before exiting.

The door shut for the second time, gentler than when Carlos and James left, and it was quiet. Once Jo was sure Camille was well down the hallway, she groaned loudly and flopped onto the orange couch, gazing up at the tall ceiling.

They were hanging out because they were friends, and that's what they always did. That's all. Jo tried her hardest to push out any unwanted thoughts, ones that made her heart flutter and her face flush, but that was easier said than done.

Plus, she was still with Kendall, and Camille was still doing her weird on-and-off thing with Logan, so it would be wrong to do anything more than friendly.

And Camille probably wasn't even into girls. If Jo made a move—which she wouldn't, not yet—and Camille responded with rejection, that would make everything awkward forever. Jo couldn't afford to make things awkward with her best friend, of all people.

"What are you groaning about?" A voice sounded from the kitchen.

Jo gasped and shot upright, clutching her chest. "Oh my gosh, Katie. I didn't know you were here."

Katie opened the fridge and took out the carton of milk, placing it on the counter. "I'm always here. So, what's your problem?"

Jo didn't say anything. What could she possibly disclose to Katie? She was too smart for her own good, and she'd figure everything out within two minutes.

Pouring cereal into a bowl, Katie continued. "Is it about my brother? You can just say it's about my brother."

"Yes, Katie, it's about your brother."

"What did he do this time?"

Sighing, Jo replied, "He didn't do anything. I'm the problem."

Katie hummed, completing her bowl of cereal by pouring the milk. "That's hard to believe. He's always the problem."

Jo crossed her arms defensively. "That's reductive. Kendall's nice, you know."

"Oh, I know. But he's my brother, so I can talk badly about him behind his back and make stuff up." Katie took her bowl and sat in one of the high-top chairs, spinning it around so she could face Jo. "Anyway, if you think you're the problem, it must be a big deal."

It was more than a big deal. It was, like, the biggest deal in Jo's life thus far. In a few days, everything changed because her brain could hardly function in the heat. She had to rethink once-buried aspects of her life and jump to conclusions because she'd always been too busy with work to really consider some things.

Like, she had new scenes to film later that day for New Town High. There wasn't really much time to think about potentially being lesbian.

"I guess you could say that." Jo tried being as vague as possible, not wanting to spill anything too big to Katie, especially after finding out she was the one who had told Kendall she was single and didn't actually have a sporty boyfriend named Travis. She was very sneaky.

"Just try not to break his heart, okay? 'Cause there will be some serious consequences."

"Oh. Uh, I wasn't planning on it."

Katie squinted accusingly. "Really? Because, not to be weird, but I saw how you looked at Camille just now. I was watching the whole thing from the top of the swirly slide."

She… what?

Jo's heart dropped to her feet at Katie's words, the color draining from her face. "You know what?" She said shakily, standing up from the couch and grabbing her bag from the ground, rushing to the door without hesitation. "I just remembered I actually have to be at Colossal Studios right now. I totally missed my call time. Bye!"

She swung the door open, but faced Camille again. This time, she was dressed in one of the various cheerleader uniforms she owned, her hair now in a high ponytail.

"Where are you going?" She asked, holding up two scripts and a pair of fake glasses. "I need you to be my secret nerdy girlfriend for this coming-of-age movie. It sounds pretty good, actually." Camille smirked, flipping through some of the pages.

Jo nodded frantically, pretending to listen to what Camille was saying. Her lips were pressed together in a tight, strained smile, and she was itching to flee the scene immediately. "It does, really, but I have to go. I just got a call— or, um, I got a text from Jett. They need me to reshoot, like, right now. I'll make it up to you, though. Promise."

Then, she was pushing past Camille, speeding down the hallway in the direction of the elevators. At the end of the hall, she looked over her shoulder momentarily to see Katie whispering something to Camille, both watching her speed-walk away. That only made Jo move quicker.

Within five minutes, Jo was at the Palmwoods park, pacing up and down the walkways, mind racing. Once she got weird looks from the pedestrians walking by, she decided to find a bench and sit down to cool off.

She couldn't have been more obvious if she tried. And with Katie definitely having told Camille, the rumor would spread like a forest fire, and Jo would have to leave the Palmwoods forever and never come back. She'd need to book a one-way flight to North Carolina as soon as possible. She'd probably have to quit acting, too.

That was a bit extreme, but what else could she do? Ignore it? Pretend it never happened—pretend the feelings she felt weren't even there in the first place? Now that they'd been unearthed, there was no way to bury them when they took over Jo's every thought.

And she was an actress on a major teen TV show. This wasn't something people would see and not care about; it would be a whole scandal. A news broadcast. A gossip magazine headline.

Jo shivered. Making headlines for anything negative was a nightmare.

Now she was back at square one. Actually, she was on a negative square because she made no attempt at being honest with anyone. Instead, she lied through her teeth, making up two different excuses to Camille and Katie, and ran away when confronted with the truth.

She could hardly believe herself, getting Camille's hopes up, then leaving. She was supposed to be reading lines with her right now as her—

Wait.

Camille said Jo was supposed to be playing her secret nerdy girlfriend. Her girlfriend.

What the hell was Jo doing? She was so worried about Katie's talent for being scarily observant that she'd barely even registered what Camille was saying to her. She had just fumbled the greatest opportunity of all time.

Morally, it wasn't wrong. It was just acting, after all, but Jo knew she would take it to heart and get too serious about it. She'd probably never stop thinking about it.

Now that she thought about it, it was better that she fled.

Her phone began to ring. She slightly jumped, startled by the sudden noise that pulled her out of her thoughts.

It was Kendall's ringtone.

Divine timing was on a roll today, wasn't it? A call from Kendall was just what she needed right now. No, seriously, it was perfect.

Well, there was no use avoiding the call. It was now or later; better to get it over with sooner. Jo dug through her bag, feeling around for her cellphone, and once he grasped it, she picked up.

"Hey, Ken. Kendall. Hi," Jo said, tripping over her words. That was a good start.

"Hey. James and Carlos said you needed to talk to me?" He replied. In the background, there was a faint crashing sound accompanied by high-pitched shrieking. "Sorry about the noise."

Jo furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. So is Logan, but James and Carlos are outside the studio with Gustavo. It's… better not to get into the details. Anyway."

"Oh, uh," she hesitated. "You're not recording music?"

"We were. But, y'know how they are."

"Right, well, I do need to talk to you. Just… in person."

Kendall paused for a moment. "Okay, cool. When do you wanna do that?"

Jo squeezed her eyes shut. Get it over with. "Whenever you're done at Rocque Records."

"So, in twenty minutes? I think I'm done here." Another crash followed, and Jo could hear Logan yelling something unintelligible. The only words she could sort of make out were "Carlos" and "microphone stand".

Despite her circumstances, she couldn't help but giggle a bit. The boys had always somehow gotten themselves into some ridiculous, unbelievable situations, and Jo was always excited to hear about them from Kendall.

"Alright. I'll be at the Palmwoods park, so. You'll find me."

"Sure will. See you soon," Kendall said, Gustavo's booming voice suddenly overlapping Kendall's. Jo jerked her head away from her cellphone, and Kendall promptly hung up.

So, she had twenty minutes to kill before she had to do the impossible.

For twenty minutes straight, Jo sat there. Waiting. Staring off into space. Not really doing anything, actually.

She was nervous, okay? She never thought things would come to… this. Coming clean about this whole liking girls thing seemed worse than a break-up. Honestly, it seemed like a form of social suicide.

God, Jo was dramatic.

Down one of the several paths in the park, Jo finally saw a familiar head of dirty blonde hair approaching, and she braced herself for what was to come. She wasn't the one being broken up with, but still, it was going to suck for both of them.

Soon enough, Kendall reached Jo with a smile on his face. "What's up?" He greeted, and Jo stood up to wrap her arms around his body for a hug, which he returned immediately.

"Oh, nothing much," she replied, sitting back down, Kendall following. "Did you actually record anything today, or did the studio turn into Gustavo's personal rage room for the day?"

Kendall laughed. "Spot on. But that's Gustavo for you. Always angry about something."

Jo nodded, her demeanor shifting when she remembered the purpose of this meet-up. "Kendall, I hate to do this, but…" She trailed off, her brain failing her and not producing anything meaningful to say. She didn't want to be too blunt about it, but there was no easy way to dance around the inevitable.

"You're breaking up with me," Kendall said matter-of-factly, filling in the silence.

All Jo could muster was a quiet, "…Oh."

Kendall continued. "Jo, I may be slightly stupid, but I have eyes. And lips. You obviously haven't liked my goodbye kisses for a few days, at least." His smile had turned sad, his signature dimples creased in his skin.

Jo looked down at her lap. "I'm sorry."

"If that's what you want, then no hard feelings."

"I thought you'd fight it a little."

Kendall shrugged. "What's the point? That would just be annoying."

Jo bit her bottom lip anxiously, avoiding eye contact. Time to be honest. "I'm not doing this for no reason, you know."

"I assumed, yeah."

"It's… well. I'm— I… Ugh, I don't know how to say this, Kendall. Can you promise you won't hate me?"

Now, Kendall was concerned, his eyebrows drawn together. "Of course, I won't hate you," he paused. "Are you… into one of my friends? Is that why? Are you into Jett?"

"No, no, God, no." Jo grimaced, shaking her head firmly. "It's not that. It will never be that. But there is someone. Um. There's a… girl."

"A girl?"

"Yeah." Jo continued to look everywhere but at Kendall's eyes, her voice quivering more with each word. "I don't want to lead you on, Kendall, and it's nothing personal. You're amazing, truly. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. But I just figured this out. That I— that I like girls. Not guys. And I'm really sorry about that."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because— because it's weird. Right? And you're weirded out?"

Kendall shook his head, placing his hand on Jo's shoulder in a comforting manner. "I'm not weirded out. It's fine. I totally get it."

Jo looked up from the crack in the cement she was interested in, meeting Kendall's eyes. "Really?"

He smiled, cocking his head to the side. "Duh. Look, you're not in North Carolina anymore, Jo. This is Los Angeles. Either nobody cares, they accept you, or they're also gay."

"Oh," Jo whispered. She felt as though a weight was lifted from her shoulders, a sense of relief coursing through her veins. "So, you're not mad?"

"No. You like girls, and that's fine with me. Nothing to be mad about. But you have to tell me who you're replacing me with as an apology," Kendall joked, poking Jo's shoulder.

Jo crossed her arms, finally finding it in herself to smile. "You and your family are a bunch of gossips, I swear."

"Whatever. Tell me, and I'll keep it a secret."

Sighing, Jo rolled her eyes good-naturedly and pointed a finger. "You better."

"Cross my heart. Fingers crossed. I swear on my grave." To bring it home, Kendall placed a hand over his heart, pledging himself to secrecy.

"I'm trusting you with this." Jo hesitated, looking around to make sure no one in a bush hat was eavesdropping. "…It's Camille."

Kendall's face broke out into an instant grin, his eyebrows raised as he processed the new information. "Wow. Wow. Wooooow."

"Okay, it's not that crazy." Jo blushed, embarrassed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to keep her fingers from fidgeting too much.

"But it is. It's kinda wild, but I'll be the first to volunteer as your wingman."

Her eyes widened, shaking her head. "No, Kendall, you can't do that. I can't go after her."

"Why not?" He asked, genuinely confused. "You like her."

"You can say that because you're a guy and you like girls. But I don't know if she even likes girls like that. And, besides, she's with Logan. Kinda. Sometimes."

Kendall looked off to the side in thought momentarily. "Huh. I guess that's true. But you'll never know if you never try, and, as I said, I'm your wingman, dude. I'll help you out."

"Oh, so I'm 'dude' now?" Jo teased, laughing. "Am I one of the guys now because I like girls?"

Kendall waved his hand around dismissively, laughing along. "No! We're friends, and I call my friends 'dude'. But seriously, consider it. I'll get some info and set you two up."

Jo smiled gratefully. "Thanks, but I think this is something I have to do myself, even though it's gonna be hard. Maybe a little humiliating, too."

"If anything, I can be a shoulder to cry on if she rejects you."

"Okay, well," she said. "Let's try to be a little optimistic, yeah?"

"Right." He nodded. "Hey, I'm glad you told me this. You're awesome."

"And you're awesome for not hating me forever."

"I have no idea why you'd think I hate you. You're still Jo Taylor to me and everyone else. Plus, I have zero problem with gay people. James is my best friend."

Jo tilted her head, remembering what Logan had said to her earlier that day. "Is James actually gay, or do you guys just like to tease him?"

"Just joking. But don't tell him about it, he might get insecure."

"…Okay, cool. Well, I need to be at Colossal Studios soon, so I should probably leave now."

The pair stood from the bench, going in for another hug. A slight breeze passed by, rustling the leaves on the surrounding trees, and for the first time in days, Jo felt at peace with something. Kendall's acceptance and encouragement had made her feel miles better than how she'd been an hour ago, stressed and overthinking everything.

Now, all she had was Camille to worry about. Jo wanted her, wanted to kiss her red lips and run her fingers through her dark curls, but she was going to have to work for it. She decided she'd worry about that later.

"Thank you, Kendall. Seriously. This means so much to me—you mean so much to me," Jo muttered into the crook of Kendall's neck, still locked in the embrace. "I love you." She leaned back, placing a kiss on his cheek. "As friends, of course."

"Of course," Kendall replied, a lopsided smirk playing on his lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Uh-huh," Jo laughed, releasing her arms from their position and picking up her bag from the bench. "I'll see you later, Kendall."

"Call me with updates?"

"You know I will."

And with that, Jo walked up the cement path, exiting the park in a much different headspace than when she had entered.

"When I said to call me with updates, I didn't mean this," Kendall said from the other side of the phone, his voice slightly out of breath. He was probably on break from dance rehearsal, Jo thought.

"An update is an update, Kendall. I'm just doing what you asked me to," She defended.

He lowered his voice. "Okay, yeah, but I wanted to know what you were doing to get with Camille, not get away from her."

Jo closed her eyes. She wanted to say something snappy like Yeah, me too, dude, but she kept her mouth shut and continued to lean against one of the stucco walls of the audition place she was at.

Unfortunately for Jo, she couldn't seem to kick the habit of believing she was a bad person for liking girls. It must've been something her hometown in North Carolina had ingrained into her brain, because instead of being a normal girl, Jo was currently ignoring Camille as much as possible.

She couldn't help it—couldn't help herself around Camille, couldn't stop the thoughts that swirled around in her mind, or the rush she felt when Camille touched her. It didn't matter if it was a brush of the arms or a hug: the touch would linger and burn into her skin, a sensation Jo couldn't stop thinking about. So, the only way to save her dignity and not weird anyone out was to keep Camille at arm's length. Truly, it was better for everyone if Jo distanced herself. She didn't like doing it at all, but she knew she had to.

Jo hated taking the long way to her apartment to avoid Camille in the lobby. She hated ignoring phone calls and having to lie to Camille, texting something about being too busy to talk. But most of all, she hated walking in the park or by the pool and seeing Camille all by herself, doing things that Jo should be doing with her. The empty space next to her made Jo feel terrible, like there was not only a hole next to Camille but also in Jo's heart.

Even though it made her feel shitty, she kept telling herself she had to do it. She had to.

Additionally, Jo still had no idea what Katie had whispered to Camille in the doorway of 2J, and she didn't really want to find out. If Katie had spilled Jo's feelings, then she wanted to avoid the rejection for as long as possible.

Obviously, it sucked to avoid her best friend, but being in love with said best friend and having to see her around her sometimes-boyfriend sucked too.

"Well, what else am I supposed to do? Embarrass myself? I saw her kiss Logan on the cheek yesterday. It's over for me."

Kendall sighed loudly. "Jo, you kissed me on the cheek last week. How is that any different?"

Ugh. "It… it just is, okay?"

"It just isn't."

"Look, Kendall, I've already accepted defeat. She likes guys, and I can't do anything about it. And neither can you, so don't even try anything."

"There's no way you can know that for sure. No way."

"Have you always been this annoying, or did you just get this way after we broke up?"

Jo heard Kendall huff out a laugh, clearly amused at her frustration. "I'm just trying to help out. Seriously, if you keep avoiding her because you think she won't like you, you're gonna ruin your friendship."

"That's the thing, though," Jo said. "I don't want a friendship. I want a relationship."

"So what are you doing? You think leaving the room when she comes in is gonna do anything for your relationship?"

"It might. Who knows? Some guys like it when you play hard to get."

"But you know that—" Kendall started, but was promptly cut off by Gustavo. Obviously.

Jo winced as she listened to Gustavo's yelling. "Did I say you dogs could take a break? Get back to the studio! All of you!"

Kendall groaned, and Jo could practically hear the eye-roll in his voice. "I gotta go, but we're not finished with this. You need to change your ways. You can't give up."

"Fine. I'll talk to you later," Jo replied, hanging up before she could be subjected to another one of Gustavo's tirades. Shoving her cellphone into her bag, she silently mimicked Kendall's words and started walking toward the street corner where she was being picked up.

What did he know? It wasn't like he was in love with Logan, or Carlos, or whoever he considered to be his best friend at the moment. He couldn't relate at all, and therefore shouldn't be giving advice.

Or Jo was just being willfully ignorant, and, in reality, she was the stupid one.

She stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed, as she waited for her car to arrive. The audition hadn't gone too badly, actually. Jo was able to get through five pages with her scene partner, and the casting director seemed pretty impressed.

It probably helped that the role she read for was a teenage girl who was hopelessly in love with her best friend. The best friend character was a boy, because this was Hollywood, after all, but Jo was able to channel some deep-seated emotions and deliver.

She grimaced. So much for trying to avoid those feelings.

Soon enough, Jo spotted a familiar black car coming down the street, and she was grateful to finally be able to go home after a long day. Now, almost nothing stood between her and a relaxing evening.

Obviously, there could be some problems: Kendall's insistence, Katie's apparent mind-reading powers, and Camille. If Jo could dodge all three of them and get to her apartment without a hitch, she'd be set for the rest of the day.

Knowing the Palmwoods, though, that obviously wouldn't be the case. Anything could happen once Jo entered the lobby, for better or for worse. All she could do was cross her fingers and hold her breath.

Jo never believed in superstitions anyway.

People only really believed in them because they made them feel better about something. But they didn't actually work. Jo could cross her fingers until they fell off, but nothing would change.

She hadn't even made it three feet past the front desk when Camille bounded in from the right, coming from the pool and stopping Jo in her tracks.

"Hey," She said, smiling. Jo barely had time to react before Camille continued. "I need your help with lines again. You said you'd make it up to me, right?"

Jo stared at Camille dumbly, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly. It took a moment for her brain to catch up with everything else, and once she processed what was going on, a sad feeling washed over her. She had to blow off Camille again. "I… can't, I just got back from an audition. I'm really tired."

Well… Jo didn't have to blow her off. She was choosing to blow her off because if she wasn't careful, she'd do something she'd regret.

To her surprise, Camille hardly reacted. She just shrugged and maintained the smile on her face, not faltering at the rejection. "But don't you wanna know what the script's about before you say no?"

"Um. Sure."

"Okay, well, I play the sad, confused girl, and you play the best friend who's being weird and avoiding her for no reason."

Jo malfunctioned right then. Suddenly, everything had short-circuited, cementing her where she stood. She could feel every inch of her body grow warmer, embarrassment and shame crawling across her skin and sinking in their claws. She felt awful.

She only felt worse when she noticed how Camille's face had dropped, her beautiful smile now replaced with something else—something unfamiliar. She looked like she was upset at Jo, with her eyebrows drawn together and the corners of her lips downturned in a frown.

"Are you mad at me, Jo? Is it something I did?"

It was obvious that this wasn't another one of Camille's bouts of method acting—she was completely serious. She wasn't stomping or screaming or even dressed up in some fantastical costume, waving around an annotated script. Right now, she was just Camille, and Camille was angry at Jo. Camille was hurt because of Jo.

Jo hated that.

"Don't you realize what you're doing to me? Do you have anything to say?" Camille asked pleadingly, crossing her arms, and Jo realized that she'd been silent for too long.

Yes, I have so much to say, Jo thought: she wanted to apologize ten times over and beg for Camille's forgiveness—anything that would make the look on her face disappear. She wanted to tell her how she really felt.

But those were only thoughts; her mouth had stopped working entirely, and she couldn't seem to reply coherently if she tried. She was pathetic.

Camille sighed. She pressed her lips into a flat line and looked off to the side, clearly trying to find the words to say something, but she eventually shook her head instead.

God, one small action could hurt so much. She didn't even have to say a single word to make Jo's heart split down the middle, shattering violently against her ribcage.

Camille's shoulders sagged, and without hesitating, she briskly walked away, leaving the Palmwoods and leaving Jo frozen in place.

A lump began to form in Jo's throat, and she rushed to the elevators. She couldn't afford to start crying in the middle of the busy lobby, so she jammed the button to her floor frantically with her thumb as if that would make the elevator come faster.

The next few minutes went by in a blur, due in part to the tears clouding Jo's vision that threatened to spill over. With a death grip on her bag strap, Jo traveled from the lobby to her apartment, unlocking the door with an unsteady hold on the key. She held back her tears, hoping her dad wouldn't notice, but when she entered the apartment, he wasn't there.

She breathed out a sigh of relief, but it came out as a broken sob instead.

The trip to her room was short. Once she shut the door and carelessly dropped her things on the floor, she began crying full-on. Even as she changed into a tank top and sweats and washed the makeup off her face, she cried.

Maybe if she prayed hard enough, she'd be normal again. She could get back together with Kendall, and she could chalk up her avoidance of Camille to mood swings or personal problems or anything that didn't imply romantic feelings. She would grasp at straws to justify her actions—anything to make Camille forgive her.

Jo wanted so desperately to take the easy way out, but there was none. Nothing about her situation was easy, and she wasn't prepared to deal with it at all. It was like she was trying to navigate a maze with a blindfold on and the lights off—she had no idea what to do, where she was going, or how to do it.

She sobbed into her pillow, muffling the sound, and sank deeper into her bed. For several minutes, that's all she did.

She was experiencing a feeling like no other, like her chest was being slowly crushed under a hydraulic press, and her heart was free-falling thousands of feet with no parachute.

If she could, she would shrink into herself and disappear for a while, to succumb to the pressure of everyone around her and fade away. Maybe if she were gone for long enough, people would forget about Jo Taylor's inability to be a good, regular girl.

Jo rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling like so many times before, tears streaming down her cheeks and into her ears.

She'd taken things too far. She thought she was doing the right thing, God damn it, but there was no guide for something like this. What else was she supposed to do?

Literally anything else, Jo thought, and she subsequently groaned. Even her own mind was disappointed in her.

And, really, who wouldn't be? The mere existence of her was a humiliation ritual. Walking outside felt like there was a spotlight shining on her at all times, judgmental eyes trained on her figure as she put on a performance, but they knew her secret. They all knew.

She was gross. Each tear that slid down her cheeks made her feel dirtier, every sob a confession of the sin she was committing. But she couldn't stop.

No matter how hard she tried now and how hard she would try later, it wouldn't go away. Jo knew that now. It would never go away—her racing heart, her clammy hands, her weak knees. The warring thoughts, the constant fear of being exposed, the isolation of it all. It was all par for the course of braving the wild storm that was Camille.

And wasn't that what Jo had signed up for?

She must've read the terms ten times over and willingly signed them. Perhaps that was on the day she'd broken up with Kendall, when she accepted the challenge of doing everything on her own because she knew she could. Or maybe it was earlier, when she'd sat down with Logan and practically asked for his blessing.

Whenever it was, she'd surrendered herself to the sin, and trying to go backwards would be like swimming against a vigorous current: it couldn't be done. She was stranded in the middle of the ocean, treading water, but hope wasn't lost. Land was in sight. All she had to do was get there.

She could do that.

Yeah, she could, because she was Jo Taylor. If she could do fifteen takes in a row of kissing Jett, she could practically do anything. The sky was the limit.

Jo slowly sat up in her bed, wiping her blurry eyes with the heels of her palms. Finally, she was able to see clearly, as if the veil that had been obscuring her vision had been lifted. Everything was so obvious, and she'd been simply too blind to see it.

If she really wanted to be a normal girl, she could move on right now, spending the rest of her time at the Palmwoods lying through her teeth and faking smiles. She'd make up with Camille, and they'd go back to being best friends. She'd go back to watching Camille be happy with someone else.

But that's not what Jo wanted.

No, she wanted Camille, had wanted her that day at the pool and every single day since. She wanted to be the someone Camille kissed and smiled at and told her friends about because Jo was so great to her.

If that made her different, then Jo was a pariah.

She'd left her sense of normalcy back in North Carolina, in the town where she could walk into stores without being recognized as the star of New Town High.

Fuck it, she thought. Fuck it all. She was exhausted from the never-ending battle of going back and forth within her mind, from stressing about the smallest actions or indicators, because God forbid she liked girls. She was sure that if she checked her head in the mirror, she'd probably find a gray hair.

So, Jo wasn't normal. She knew that much now, but did it really matter if she was? Did it matter if she ever was? No one was truly "normal"—especially at the Palmwoods. James was amazing at what he did, but he had an off-putting obsession with bandanas. Carlos was… well, he was anything but normal, but he was a lovely guy.

And Camille. She wasn't normal—far from it, actually—but she was perfect. At least in Jo's eyes, she was.

That's when it really clicked for Jo. If any of them were normal, if they'd lost the traits that made them interesting, they'd suck. They'd all be shells of her best friends. Normal was boring.

So why on Earth had she been begging her ceiling to make her boring? Boring didn't get her booked for new roles, nor did it help her receive new opportunities. It especially didn't make her happy.

Jo heard Kendall's voice ring out in her head. You need to change your ways. You can't give up. She covered her face with her hands and managed to crack a smile, almost laughing at his words. Why was he always right?

At this point, Jo didn't really have a choice. She couldn't give up, because if she did, she'd screw everything up more than she already had. The least she could do was salvage their friendship.

Cross-legged on her bed, Jo closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was going to do this now. Not tomorrow, not within the week, but now.

She got up and exited her bedroom, not bothering to look at herself in the mirror, not caring about her tear-stained cheeks or puffy eyes. In fact, the only times she paused were to slip on her flip-flops and pocket her cellphone, and she was quickly out the front door.

She headed straight for Camille's apartment, although she wasn't sure if she was even there. After their exchange earlier, she'd left the Palmwoods entirely, but that must've been more than twenty minutes ago. She could've returned at any time.

Friends and acquaintances passed by Jo as she continued to walk hastily to her destination, stopping in their tracks and giving her wary looks. After rounding a corner, she almost bumped into James and Logan, each boy carrying a cardboard box of water guns and having a conversation.

"Hey, Jo…ooo…" James started, his words dying in his mouth and his grin fading when he saw his disheveled friend. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," She replied hurriedly with a half-smile, ready to breeze past them, but then her eyes drifted to Logan's concerned face. Surely he knew something. "Logan, do you know where Camille is?"

Logan shared a brief look with James. Then, he nodded. "Uh, last I checked, she was in her room. She just came back."

"From where?"

"…CVS. I think."

"Oh," Jo said. "Okay, thanks."

She took two steps forward before Logan held out his hand, balancing his box in the other, in an attempt to stop her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Jo hesitated, wondering if she should tell him what her intentions were. Considering she didn't fully know his romantic feelings towards Camille, it would be risky. Would he be offended? Would he be mad?

No, that was unlike Logan. Still, she decided against it, so she just shrugged halfheartedly and said, "We'll see."

"Do you need an intervention?" James asked, lowering his voice when a mother and daughter walked by, squeezing through the gap the trio had left in the hallway. "Because we can totally do one for you."

Logan rolled his eyes, elbowing James. "James, you don't tell people when you're doing an intervention. It's supposed to be a surprise."

James furrowed his eyebrows. "Like a party?"

"Guys," Jo interrupted before Logan could lecture James on the distinct differences between interventions and surprise parties. "I don't need an intervention. I'm okay, I promise. I just… need to do something important right now."

The boys shared another look, and Jo could've laughed right there at whatever best friend telepathy they were doing. She just wished they would let her by and let her do what she needed to.

James was the first one to say something. "Okay, well, we're hosting the First Annual Palmwoods Summer Games by the pool later, so you should come by when you're done. It's gonna be super awesome." He nodded enthusiastically, his trademark grin returning.

Jo just nodded politely with a flat smile, her patience wearing thin. She crossed her arms. "Okay, good to know. I'll try not to miss it."

Silence followed her words. No one made the move to be the first to walk away; they kind of just… looked at each other. Very awkwardly.

Now Jo was really growing impatient, so she quirked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows. Logan took the hint.

"Okay, we'll be on our way then. Nice seeing you, Jo," he said, kicking James on the foot so he'd start walking. As Logan followed James out, he paused next to Jo and quietly added, "Good luck."

"Thanks," she replied before she could really process what his words meant. He and James had already disappeared down the hallway, and Jo was resuming her journey to Camille's when she realized he knew.

Nine times out of ten, the prospect of someone knowing her secret would've had her terrified—running for the hills, even—but this was Logan. He knew when to keep his mouth shut, and he didn't seem mad about it at all.

Plus, the whole conversation she'd previously had with him in the lobby lacked any amount of subtlety from both sides. He was bound to find out sooner than later, and honestly? That wasn't the worst thing in the world. Jo had no trouble handling it.

What Jo was having trouble handling was the sight of Camille's door, which she was now standing in front of. It was the sole barrier between her and the key to her happiness.

The thought made Jo smirk, because a cheap, wooden door at the Palmwoods was one of the most inconsequential things she could think of that would stand between her and Camille. It didn't seem good enough; Jo would've expected a golden gate or a thousand miles to be what separated them. Instead, it was a stupid door.

But it was Jo's actions, too, that drove a wedge in their relationship. She would be wrong not to carry most of the blame.

Staring at the room number, her body rushed with a mix of emotions. The image of Camille on the other side of the door made her stomach swoop, but her mind couldn't decide if Camille would be scowling or grinning when she saw Jo.

Jo regretted not planning ahead, but maybe Camille would appreciate the spontaneity of the situation. All she had to do was knock.

Lifting her fist, she hesitated. Of course she hesitated, but it was like she had a mental block that made her freeze. She kind of hated how Camille messed with her mind.

Her hand wasn't shaking like she'd expected—instead, it was completely and eerily still. On the contrary, her heart was practically beating out of her chest like it wanted to escape her ribcage. She laid her palm flat on the wood grain of the door and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. It didn't work.

She'd been so confident five minutes earlier, but upon facing everything head-on, she was scared. Like, rethinking-everything-scared, but that wasn't something she could afford at the moment. She needed to do this.

Jo bent her fingers inwards and made another fist, hovering over the surface. She took another deep breath and held it in her lungs. Just do it scared, she told herself. Then, before her mind could wander too far and conjure up any second thoughts, she knocked loudly five times.

Now, she just had to wait. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long.

After a minute had passed and there was no answer, Jo reached out and knocked again, adding a few extra knocks just in case.

After another minute had passed and there was still no answer, Jo almost fell to her knees. Her nerves were taking over her body like an encroaching tide, and she was about to be pulled under the waves.

She began to wonder if Logan had lied to her, picking at her nails with numb fingers. Was he trying to mislead her in order to sabotage her?

That'd be messed up, Jo thought. Fucked up, even. But she hadn't gone through all this trouble to be fucked with by some guy, and he wasn't going to ruin Jo's chance at redemption.

So, if Camille wasn't at the Palmwoods, where else would she be? Jo put her hands on her hips and looked down at the carpeted floor, creating a mental list of places Camille would most likely be. There was the park, the beach, and any audition building within a five-mile radius. Maybe she was at The Grove?

Shit. That wasn't helpful—L.A. was huge. She could be anywhere doing anything.

Jo tilted her head and scrunched her nose. She started to pace a small distance in front of the door, moving her hands from her hips to her pockets and…

Oh. Obviously.

Jo pulled out her cellphone and turned it on, having completely forgotten she'd brought it with her in the first place. She could just call Camille instead of combing through the entire city.

She quickly opened her contacts and scrolled until she found Camille's name in all its glory, wedged between all the other C names in her phone.

(It might've had a little heart next to it, but Jo would take that fact to the grave.)

She tapped her name and selected the "Call" option, bringing the cellphone up to her ear. She listened to it ring. Once, then twice, then three times. She bit her bottom lip anxiously.

"Hey," Camille's voice sounded from the speaker, uncharacteristically monotone.

"Where are you?" Jo asked a little too eagerly, but she didn't care anymore. "I need to talk to you. Please."

"You're talking to me right now," Camille replied.

"Well, yeah, but I want to see you in person. It's important."

It was quiet for a beat. Jo couldn't take the quiet. "Look, if you tell me where you are, I can be there in five minutes. I'll run there if I have to. I just need to talk to you."

"And say what, Jo?" Camille asked, her voice faltering. "Because it better be good."

Jo placed a palm on her creased forehead. There was almost nothing she hated more in the world than hearing Camille's voice break.

"I'd say I'm sorry, Camille, because I am. Truly. I could say it a million times, and it wouldn't be enough to tell you how sorry I am. I just want to make things right with us again."

Camille didn't say anything for a moment. The air around Jo felt charged, like the anticipation of hearing her friend's voice was emitting off her. It made her dizzy.

"Okay, fine. If you wanna make things right, then you can start by telling me why you've been avoiding me," Camille said. "It's hurt me, Jo. A lot. Did I do something to upset you?"

"No, of course not—"

"So what is it then?" Camille interrupted. "Because I'm struggling to find another reason."

Jo sighed shakily, a small lump forming in her throat. She ran a hand over her face and resumed her pacing, the clicking of her flip-flops echoing down the hallway. "It's me. It's all me. You didn't do anything."

"Okay, so what happened?"

"I…" Jo started, but her voice died out. No, no, she scolded herself internally, you're not doing this right now.

The words were clawing at her throat, begging to be said. She wanted to say them—needed to, but her brain was battling with her heart. She hated how the professional, actress part of her was always present, no matter what, because that part was forcing her mouth shut. Think of the scandal, think of your image, think of the jobs you'll lose.

But then there was the side of herself that didn't care about any of it, the side that could make headlines on purpose and wave around the magazine like it had no real repercussions. It was all just gossip, anyway, and no self-respecting person would be seriously scandalized by Jo Taylor being lesbian.

She decided she'd rather be the person who'd make the best out of a bad situation. That version of Jo seemed fun.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she cleared her throat and opened her mouth before she could lose Camille for any longer.

"I saw you and I couldn't breathe."

The sentence lingered in the air, filling the silence that swiftly followed.

Jo stopped pacing and leaned against the wall in front of Camille's door. She stared at it, zeroing in on the way the grain swirled in certain places or how the doorknob shone under the overhead lights.

The longer the silence dragged on, the more Jo tried to distract herself. She inspected the carpet and the potted plant at the end of the hall, the scuffs on the baseboards and the doors of other tenants.

She had no way of knowing what Camille was doing or what she was feeling, and that made her stomach sink with dread. Maybe she'd hung up the phone, and Jo hadn't heard it.

Finally, Camille said, "That can't be it." Her voice was noticeably lower.

Jo closed her eyes. "No. It's not."

"So tell me."

Jo shuddered despite the blush slowly creeping onto her face. She felt warm and cold at the same time; simultaneously giddy and shell-shocked.

"I thought about you every day. I still do. I knew I wouldn't be able to control myself around you, so I had to avoid you. I didn't want to embarrass you by crossing any lines, so I just… tried to ignore you. But it was really, really hard. I'm sorry."

Adrenaline ran through her veins as she recited the abridged version of the past month or so, her mind buzzing. Still, it wasn't the full story. She hadn't said the most important thing.

"Jo," Camille replied slowly. "Are you still with Kendall?"

"No."

"Because…?" She prompted, pushing Jo toward the edge, but the inflection of her voice made it clear to Jo that she already knew the answer. Camille just wanted to hear her say it.

And, really, who was Jo to deny that? She'd probably jump off a cliff if Camille asked.

"Because I want to be with you."

That was it. Jo's secret was out.

It was like a massive weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. It was freeing to say the words out loud, to feel the weight of them on her tongue. Now, there was no going back.

It was scary, but Jo could face her fears.

Camille spoke without hesitation. "If I were in front of you right now, what would you do?"

Cry. Jump for joy. Beg for forgiveness. Go in for a hug. Jo had countless options to choose from, but only one appealed to her.

"I'd kiss you."

Jo wasn't nervous anymore. She was high on adrenaline, and that was the strongest drug she knew. She hadn't even processed the sentence in her head when, suddenly, she heard a click.

And the door opened.

"What about now?" Camille asked coyly, voice echoing through the phone. Well, it wasn't really echoing, but it sounded like that because she was standing right there, five feet in front of Jo. She was right there, and she was smirking like something was funny.

Maybe something was funny. It was probably the look on Jo's face.

Camille disconnected the call, putting her phone in the pocket of her jeans, and Jo did the same. Then, she crossed her arms. Watching Jo. Waiting for her to make a move.

"Were you… ignoring me?" Jo asked eventually, and she instantly felt stupid. After avoiding Camille to the degree she did, she deserved to be ignored herself. Honestly, five minutes in the hallway didn't seem long enough. Camille should've sent her call to voicemail.

"Yeah," Camille replied anyway, shrugging. "Or is it only okay when you do it?"

Jo shook her head. "No, sorry. I didn't… um. I didn't mean it like that. Sorry."

When did she get so awkward? It was painful, truly, and all brain functions seemed to be shutting down. She had to move quickly, or else she'd be decommissioned for the rest of the day.

"Can I start over?"

Camille hummed, nodding. She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, tilting her head slightly.

"I'm sorry. I should've been honest with you sooner instead of being a… a coward and ignoring you for so long. It was wrong of me, and I just hope that you can forgive me. I hope we can be cool again. But I meant everything I said."

"Really?"

Jo nodded. "Every word."

"So…" Camille took a step forward. "You meant it when you said you'd kiss me?'

"Of course," Jo said. She could feel the blood rushing to her face, growing warmer by the second. "Especially that part."

Camille reached out and took Jo's hand in her own, interlocking their fingers. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Jo glanced down at their connected hands. Camille's hand was soft—a stark contrast to her clammy hands, but Camille didn't seem to mind. She was smiling, after all, and that was always a good sign. "You're… okay with it?"

"I mean, I'm asking you to do it."

Oh. That changed a lot. That changed everything.

She wanted it too.

And then it clicked, like the perfect puzzle pieces aligning in Jo's mind that rebooted her entire system. She was up and running again, and she could finally function.

She let go of Camille's hand and stepped closer, wiping her palms on her sweatpants before taking Camille's face in her hands and gently pulling her in, meeting in the middle.

Everything was happening so fast, maybe a little too fast, but that was something for future Jo to think about. Right now, she was too eager, too excited to have her feelings reciprocated after beating herself up for weeks for having a dirty, shameful crush on her best friend.

Right now, there was no thinking—all she could focus on was how perfect the kiss was. It was everything she'd ever fantasized about, as if all of her dreams of this exact instance converged to create the present moment. Soft but passionate, quick but deep. The definition of perfect.

Camille was a natural, at least compared to Jo's sloppiness. She blamed it on her inexperience in the "physically intimate" field—especially with other girls—but she imagined it made the whole thing better. This was new territory, a whole new playing field, and Jo was figuring it out for the first time. It was thrilling.

When Jo felt a hand rest on her waist, she sighed. Then, when an arm wrapped around her waist and a palm was laid flat on the small of her back, she shivered. The way her body reacted was almost violent, and she had to resist the urge to jerk away. It was a lot of sensations at once, but they were all welcome.

She felt like she was floating with Camille's lips against hers. She wasn't even sure if she was present in her body or watching the situation play out from above through an out-of-body experience. Whichever it was, she couldn't deny the obvious: this was happening.

And just like that, it was over. Jo pulled away, staring back at the girl of her dreams.

"Y'know, I have a few notes, but that wasn't too bad for our first kiss," Camille said, raising her hand to twirl a piece of Jo's hair on her finger.

Our first kiss. The words bounced around in Jo's head like a pinball machine, replaying over and over again, and she wondered if she had somehow died and teleported to Heaven. It was all too good to be true.

Too good, in fact, that she leaned forward and kissed Camille again. Just to make sure she was real.

When she wound her fingers in Camille's hair, she was still a little skeptical. When she tasted Camille's lipstick and felt the way she reciprocated the kiss, she knew it was real. All of it was real.

Again, they pulled away, and all Jo could do was grin. She'd find something meaningful to say later—right now, her thoughts consisted of Camille and Camille only.

"That was pretty good, too," Camille said.

Jo shrugged. "Not my best performance, but I can do better next time. And the next. And all the other times after that."

"I look forward to it," Camille replied, her arms now at her sides. She reached forward just a bit, taking Jo's pinky finger in hers, and she smiled. "I forgive you, by the way. Just don't let it happen again."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Silence washed over the two of them, and for the first time in weeks, it was comforting to Jo. It was like a warm blanket, a form of reassurance telling her she was perfectly fine the way she was. If Camille liked her as she was, then it didn't matter what anyone else thought.

Finally, Jo was content. Before, she'd close her eyes and see the intrusive images of angry friends and family, disappointment written on their faces. Now, all she saw was a beautiful girl.

"Hey," Camille said eventually, breaking the silence in the hallway. She looked in both directions, a confused frown on her lips. "Where is everyone? I haven't seen anyone pass by in at least ten minutes."

Jo momentarily matched the confusion, craning her neck to see further down each hall, and then she remembered her previous encounter with Logan and James. "Oh, the guys are hosting some Summer Games thing down by the pool. It's supposed to be awesome. Supposedly."

Camille snorted. "Of course. They're always up to something."

"Would you… wanna check it out? Together?" Jo asked, slightly rocking on the heels of her feet.

Did she actually want to go? No, definitely not, but she didn't want to pass up an opportunity to hang out with Camille either. If that meant watching her friends break their bones and get concussions while trying to do some scuffed triathlon or relay race, then whatever. She could just look away if it got bad.

Camille thought for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. "Nah," she said after a moment. "They totally don't have permission to do something like that, and I don't wanna get caught in the crossfire with Bitters. Besides, I'm already on thin ice, and I like hanging with you better."

Jo tried to ignore the last part of Camille's sentence, but it was easier said than done. She could feel herself getting nervous again, so she rushed out some words to suppress her nerves. "Okay, well, I could read that script with you. You know, the one where I was supposed to play your girlfriend?"

"Oh. About that…" Camille started, trailing off.

Jo furrowed her eyebrows, still smiling. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"…Yeah, kinda. It wasn't a real script."

"What?" Jo asked. "What do you mean?"

What's even the point of doing that? She thought. It was a shame, too—she had thought Hollywood had decided to do something different with their movies and push boundaries.

"I paid Katie to print out some random person's passion project from the internet so I could pass it off as a real script."

"Why would you do something like that?" Jo laughed.

"Because," Camille said, voice steady. "I didn't know how else to get you to kiss me, so I tried making up an excuse. Turns out I didn't even have to do anything."

Despite Jo's ability to stop herself from shutting down earlier, the second time around proved unsuccessful. Her jaw dropped, thoughts circling in her brain at a hundred miles per second. She felt stupid.

"You're telling me… this whole time… oh my God!" She covered her face with her palms, embarrassment growing in her chest. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Camille shrugged. "You wouldn't let me. I could hardly get a minute alone with you, and you rushed out before we could read lines."

Shit. She was right.

God! Jo wanted to beat herself up right about now. She could practically die of shame. The nights of tears and days of paranoia would've never happened if only she'd acted normally during her conversation with Katie and hadn't run out of 2J.

"Wait… so was Katie involved in this?"

Shaking her head, Camille replied, "She only printed the scripts. She was there that day in the apartment, but she just told me you had to leave to do something important."

When Jo didn't respond and continued to hide behind her hands, Camille took them and peeled them away from her face.

"Jo, it's fine. Look at me."

Slowly, she opened her eyes. She wanted to hang her head, wanted to shield her face again from the swirling sensation of shame, but she kept her chin up.

"I forgive you, okay? It was an honest mistake. I get it. Please don't feel bad."

Jo's eyes flicked down to the floor, then back up. Then, Camille smiled softly, and the small action was like a high tide to Jo's shore. She felt everything wash away, her racing mind calmed under the cool embrace of Camille until all Jo could think about was her. All she wanted to think about was her.

"Have I always been this oblivious?" Jo asked defeatedly, but she still managed a small smile.

"No, but it's okay," Camille said. She leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss into Jo's cheek. "It doesn't change how I feel about you."

Jo's smile widened into a grin, the kiss on her cheek burning like a brand. She loved it.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out from the end of one of the hallways. "Hey, you guys!"

Jo's head whipped to the right, startled by the intrusion. Walking towards the duo was Kendall, wearing swim trunks, a plain t-shirt, sunglasses, and sandals. Notably, he wasn't present at the First Annual Palmwoods Summer Games.

"Uh, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be swimming laps, or something?" Jo asked.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?" Camille followed.

Kendall raised his hands in joking surrender. "One question at a time, ladies. They're doing the opening ceremony now, so I came to look for you two, but I guess I interrupted something. And I'm wearing sunglasses inside 'cause it's cool."

Jo and Camille shared a look, and Jo shook her head. "You're not interrupting anything. We were just talking."

Kendall lowered his sunglasses and raised his eyebrows. "Really?" He looked between the two girls, his lips pressed into a smug, flat smile, his dimples prominent. "Okay. I'll let you continue your 'conversation'."

He accompanied "conversation" with air quotes, and he pushed his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Jo rolled her eyes. "What are the quotes for?"

"Oh, nothing. You just have a little something right here. And here," Kendall replied, pointing to his cheek and lips.

Confused, Jo rubbed her own cheek with her thumb, and when she looked at it, there was a faint red, waxy tint on it.

Oh. Duh.

"You didn't see anything," Camille said, wiggling her fingers in Kendall's direction as if she were casting a spell on him.

Kendall snorted and turned around, slowly walking back the way he came. Sighing playfully, he said, "I guess I have to tell the guys I couldn't find Jo or Camille. I didn't see anything."

Jo giggled as she watched him disappear around the corner. She knew that, sooner or later, she'd have to tell him everything that happened that led up to Camille's lipstick all over her face, but she would worry about that later.

She turned her attention back to Camille, and she felt like she could stare at her forever.

Camille noticed. She smirked, her perfect red lips quirked upwards, and backed into the doorframe of her apartment. "Wanna come inside?"

Jo crossed her arms over her chest. "Who's asking?"

"Your girlfriend."

Jo liked the sound of that.