Pulp. Robin TalleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
ahead of Abby, even though she was carrying three signs and a leftover six-pack of bottled water.
Linh was on the cross-country team, and sometimes she ran up and down the stalled metro escalators to clear her head. It was pretty adorable. Last year Abby used to come to the station to watch sometimes, leaning against the pillar at the top of the tunnel with a fond smile. When Linh finished her workout she’d come up to meet her, looking all disheveled and glowy. They’d grin at each other for a few happy, wordless moments, until Linh’s stomach started growling audibly, and then they’d go off hand in hand to get smoothies.
Breaking up was the worst idea they’d ever had.
“Yeah, Women of the stupid Twilight Realm,” Abby called up to her. “So far it’s all about how this woman has to move to New York because her boyfriend—and pretty much every male character we’ve seen so far in her little town in the boonies—is a giant tool.”
“Was that the fifties version of feminism?” Ben asked from behind Abby. He was panting, too. Ben shared Abby’s aversion to extracurricular activities that involved getting unnecessarily sweaty. “Leaving town to find a less tool-ish dude to go out with?”
“Probably,” Linh called back. “As if fifties New York was full of enlightened, eligible guys.”
“Well, it’s a lesbian book, right?” Savannah shouted from the top. She ran cross-country, too, and she was the only one in their group who could keep up with Linh. “So soon she’ll find some enlightened, eligible ladies.”
“Dude.” Vanessa poked Ben in the back with their I Am Not a Preexisting Condition poster. “You can’t just pause halfway up the escalator. If I’m not home in fifteen minutes my mom’ll be waiting for me at the door with a stopwatch and the Common Application.”
They all groaned, Abby loudest of all.
“My dad’s worse,” Linh called back. “I’m supposed to write an essay every single night, and he makes me print out every draft before I go to bed. Then he slides them back under my door the next morning with notes in the margins.”
“Did you decide how many schools you’re applying to?” Vanessa asked. “My mom keeps saying I need to do all the Ivies. I tried to tell her everyone says that’s a bad strategy but she won’t listen.”
“What? That’s a bad strategy?” Savannah sounded alarmed. “That’s what my cousin’s doing. He said if you can get into all eight you get to meet Anderson Cooper.”
Abby sped up until she was behind Linh, her breath heaving and her wedge sandals thumping on each step. If she intervened fast enough, sometimes she could get her friends to stop with the college talk before they remembered they were competing for slots and started eyeing each other warily.
“I don’t want to apply to any Ivies,” Linh was saying. “My dad thinks I should, but I just want to go to MIT. I’m starting to think about Hopkins, too, though.”
“So anyway, I guess all these books are like that,” Abby interrupted. She tried to raise her voice so they’d all hear, but that wasn’t easy given how hard she was panting. “I read a bunch of plot summaries over the weekend, and they’re all ridiculous and tragic. Plus, lots of them are about these really young characters, some even younger than us, who get seduced by way older women. Like in their thirties.”
“Ew.” Linh wrinkled her nose. “That’s so gross. Not to mention illegal. Why would they even want to?”
“Because they don’t seem to realize it’s gross? I don’t know, it’s weird. I skipped ahead, and at least this Twilight Realm book isn’t that way—the characters are twenty-one and twenty-five, which I guess isn’t that sketchy. But all the stories are such clichés. The characters go to these lesbian bars in Greenwich Village and have melodramatic conversations about how terrible it is to be a lesbian, and then they go home and have melodramatic lesbian sex. Then by the end they either check themselves into an asylum or die in botched abortions or cult rituals or whatever. And if they do survive, most of them wind up forgetting they’re gay.”
“What, do they turn out to be bi?” Linh tilted her head hopefully. She was bi, and she was always talking about how impossible it was to find bi characters anywhere. Abby agreed with her—she used to identify as bi, too, before she realized that whenever she started to imagine kissing a guy, she usually got too bored to finish—but it wasn’t exactly easy to find lesbian characters most of the time, either.
“That would seem logical, right?” Abby threw up her hands. “I thought that was where they were going with it at first, but I guess maybe they didn’t realize being bi was a thing yet? Because all these women seem to suddenly discover that they were totally straight all along. Even though two chapters earlier they were getting it on with their thirtysomething lady friends and very obviously into it. I was thinking that maybe in my book, though, I’d have one of the characters have sex with her boyfriend and actually enjoy it, and realize that she is bi. Then she’ll have to stress over how to tell her girlfriend. That never happens in these books, so I think Ms. Sloane would like it. I’d be inverting genre tropes.”
Abby was completely out of breath by that point, so she stopped talking and turned around to help Ben as they emerged into the open air of Wisconsin Avenue. Savannah and Linh stood waiting at the top, watching as a pair of Secret Service police cars sped through the intersection ahead of them. Abby wiggled her eyebrows at Linh in what she hoped was a flirty way, but Savannah, to her chagrin, had already changed the subject back to college.
“You won’t have to miss the Maryland meet when you go visit Penn, will you?” Savannah’s tone made it clear that missing the meet would be a ridiculous thing to do. She was only a junior, so she was slightly less obsessed with college than the rest of them.
“No, I can do both. The meet’s not until that Sunday.” Linh turned back to Abby. “By the way, I meant to ask you. I’m trying to get my parents to let me go visit Penn on the fourteenth. It’s a one-day trip, up and back on Amtrak. Do you want to come? They won’t let me go by myself but they said if you went, too, we could go together. They already said they’d buy our tickets, and it’ll be fun. Your parents will let you, right?”
Linh was asking her to come on a trip? Just the two of them?
Abby wanted to say yes right away, but everyone had climbed off the escalator by then, and they were all watching. She didn’t want to look desperate. “Um.” She reached for her phone. “Let me check my calendar.”
“I hope you can.” Linh had that overeager look she got sometimes when they talked about college. Uh-oh. Maybe this wasn’t about wanting to spend time alone with Abby after all. “It’s time you started visiting schools. I know Columbia’s your first choice, but you should probably come up with a list of ten or so, don’t you think?”
Abby unlocked her phone and did her best not to react. Sometimes Linh came on kind of strong when there was something she thought Abby should do. Still, any time with her was better than none. “Let’s see, it looks as though—okay, yeah, I guess I’m free the fourteenth.”
“Uh, Abby, your calendar isn’t even up.” Ben had come up out of nowhere and swiped Abby’s phone from her hand, glancing up at Linh with a smirk. “Also, just FYI, you two aren’t nearly as subtle as you think you are. You might as well—Hey, wait a second, what is that?”
Abby grabbed the phone back. Ben had somehow switched her phone screen to her collection of pulp book covers. She seized the chance to change the subject.
“It’s one of those bizarro novels,” she told Ben, pulling up the Satan Was a Lesbian cover and holding it out for them to see. “They were all like this.”
One by one, her friends started laughing as they got a look at it, exactly as Abby had expected.
“That can’t be real.” Ben squinted down. “It’s got to be Photoshop.”
“Nope!