The Other Way Around by Sashi Kaufman

You’ll see what I mean.”
    I cock my head to the side, wondering if they’re actually going to perform here in the bus station. With my mouth full of peanut butter I gesture at the ruddy-cheeked Asian kid in the headphones.
    â€œThat’s Tim Lin. He’s kind of new. So far he’s just along for the ride. He’s been recording us for some college project he’s doing. He seems all right. And you’re pretty much seeing what Emily can do.” There’s that hint of annoyance again.
    Emily has the hoop up around her neck. Her dreadlocks are flying out in back of her like a janitor’s mop. She wiggles a little bit, and the hoop drops down over her shoulder and out onto one arm. She keeps it going there for a little while, but then grabs it suddenly and stops. She sets the hoop down next to Lyle and grabs a sandwich, which she rips into two uneven chunks. With part of the sandwich in her hand, she walks over to me and G. Yup, she’s a hot girl all right; she even eats with confidence.
    I sit up in my chair and brush the crumbs off the front of my jacket.
    â€œHi,” says Emily. She squats down in front of us, balancing with one hand on my knee and one hand on G’s knee. A girl has never touched my knee like that before—intentionally, I mean. Her nails have chipped purple polish on them. I try really hard not to notice that her tights are the kind that stop at mid-thigh. Maybe that makes them socks? I’m no expert. “I’m Emily,” she says, grinning in my direction. There is a smudge of peanut butter on her teeth, and she has a single freckle exactly above the middle of her top lip.
    â€œThis is Andrew,” G says, but I can hardly hear her over the crackle of electricity that seems to be coming from the place where her hand touches my leg.
    â€œSo is he coming with us or what?” Emily asks.
    G rolls her eyes. “I hadn’t really gotten that far.”
    â€œCome with you where?” I say, my heart suddenly racing.
    Emily takes her hand off G’s knee and crosses her arms, leaning forward on both my knees. I can see straight down the front of her shirt. I stare up at her eyes. I try really hard to stare at her eyes. They are warm and blue. “You should come with us, Andrew. It’s going to be crazy, a crazy good time.”
    If my phone hadn’t rung at exactly that second, I think I probably would have gotten up and gone wherever with Emily. But the buzzing in my pocket breaks the spell.
    I look at the phone. It’s Mom. “I should take this,” I say, but Emily doesn’t move. “I gotta stand up.” I move to get on my feet. She hops back gracefully and walks back over to the others. I shake my head clear and answer the phone.
    â€œHi, Mom.”
    â€œAndrew, where the hell are you?”
    â€œYeah, about that. I needed to leave.” I look at my watch and calculate the time it would take her to get out of the house and drive to the bus station. It’s not quite long enough to tell her where I am.
    â€œAndrew, you didn’t answer my question. Kris and Barry and I were about to sit down to dinner. I sent Barry to get you in your room, but you were gone. Now where the hell are you? This is incredibly rude and awkward for me, Andrew.”
    â€œAs rude and awkward as someone pissing in your bed? Or telling you every five minutes that you’re gay?” I walk a little farther away so that G and Emily can’t hear every word of our conversation.
    â€œLook, Andrew.” Mom’s tone is conciliatory now, but I’ve heard her talk to enough parents on the phone to know an act when I hear one. “I know this has been a difficult weekend for you. I know Barry is not exactly your cup of tea.” I resist the urge to shout
More like a cup of pee
. “But this is family time. So I need you to tell me where you are so I can come get you.”
    I want to ask her about family;