Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit by Jaye Robin Brown Page A

Marnie is my girlfriend. Jo . . . anna is my friend. There’s a difference.”
    Mary Carlson drops her face into her hands. “Oh my gosh.” She looks up, her own eyes crinkled with laughter. “I just thought . . . well . . . since y’all had been hanging out. You must think we’re such idiots. Can we start over? Anybody who can put up with Barnum and his incessant elephant talk is destined to be my friend.”
    She holds out her hand.
    I hold out mine.
    Her handshake is firm, her skin powdery and warm.
    â€œWelcome to Rome, Joanna Gordon.”
    The way her mouth hooks on my full name makes me willing to forget I was ever Jo.
    Gemma butts in. “Girl, you were holding out on us. You didn’t say a word last week. And you are so pretty.You’ve got kind of a cool look. Not many people can pull off short hair.” She turns to Betsy. “What’s that actress? You know, the one who played in the Star Wars movies. Porter.”
    Betsy, who kind of looks like my distant cousin Lola, all boobs and eyelashes, says the name like she’s doing Gemma the biggest favor on the planet. “Natalie Portman.”
    â€œRight. That’s her. You got that Natalie Portman look but with bigger lips.”
    My transformation must have been more dramatic than I realized. Then I remember. I’ve been given what they consider a compliment. “Um. Thanks.” I point to my mouth. “The lips are Italian. Costs a damn fortune in lip gloss.”
    Mary Carlson laughs. “You’re funny.”
    Gemma sits back and puts her hands across her chest. “We could fix those eyebrows, though.” She points above my eyes. “I know the tweezing hurts, but beauty is worth the pain.”
    â€œSays the girl who bitches about trips to the salon.” Mary Carlson jumps to my defense.
    â€œThat is a whole different thing for me than it is for you, coconut. At least I know how to use a brush.”
    Their banter makes me miss Dana. It’s obvious they’reclose, despite the teasing.
    Mary Carlson swats at Gemma, then smiles at me. “Your eyebrows are perfect. Ignore her.” She leans across B.T.B. and I notice her eyes are like his, hazel, green with flecks of goldish brown. She puts her hand under my chin and turns my face back and forth in the light. “They give you character.”
    â€œSo, we’re going to steal you from B.T.B., right?” The fourth girl, Jessica, I think, speaks up. “Because you totally have to start hanging out with us. The boys in my history class have been talking about you.”
    â€œUh. What?”
    George turns red. Jessica wiggles her eyebrows.
    Oh God. Did I somehow turn on some switch I’m not aware of?
    â€œYou’re totally coming with us to the game this Friday.” She looks to Mary Carlson. “Right? I mean, we’ve thought she was in Mr. Ned’s class since school started and completely missed out on getting to know her.” Then to me. “We all love your stepmom, and Foundation Baptist kids stick together. We’re a family.”
    I want to ask how my being in Mr. Ned’s class would have stopped them from getting to know me, because say I actually was, I would still be a part of this so-called Foundation Baptist family. Jessica seems oblivious to her slight.
    â€œAbsolutely.” Mary Carlson nods and picks jalapeños off her pizza slice. “You can stay over afterward. Everybody is. Bring your party pajamas.”
    â€œBecause, girl.” Gemma growls. “Our dance parties are epic.”
    I doubt their dance parties are anything like a DJ Gabby F. spinner, but still, this is way easier than I thought it was going to be. They’re treating me like just another youth group member. I’m not Jo, the gay daughter of Reverend Gordon. And I’m not Jo, the quiet friend of crazy Dana. I’m Joanna. New girl. It feels kind of . . . uncomplicated. Like a place