Page 58 of Touch of Class

“I love that spin on the game.” Tegan grabbed the question box. “We can compare and contrast.”

Daphne shook her head. “You’ll find more contrast than comparison.”

“So, you consent?” Brooke asked.

“Sure. Why not?”

“I could think of a million reasons why not,” Gillian said slowly.

“It’ll end this game faster,” Sawyer nudged.

“Sold. Pick a question and put us out of our misery.”

Daphne laughed. “Give us something mid-level.”

Tegan scanned the card. “Here’s one. The subject has come up a few times. How far did you go on prom night?”

Robin laughed evilly. “The prom story they keep dodging.”

“I’m not dodging,” Gillian said quickly, then shot Daphne a look that literally everyone in the room noticed.

“There’s something,” Brooke said. “You say nothing happened, then you look at her like she better not tell us what happened.”

Gillian rolled her eyes, but even Daphne could read the tension straining the muscles in her neck and jaw. Something strangely protective kicked up in her, but why? What about the memory tortured Gillian so much? “Nothing happened.”

Everyone turned to her as if waiting for more.

“I’m afraid we’re going to earn zero chilis, because we were at the same prom, both without dates. I can tell you what we wore and how terrible the DJ was, and no one spiked the punch, which was disappointing, but those are all the details to share.”

Sawyer frowned. “If that’s true, why’s Gillian so uptight about it?”

“I’m not uptight,” Gillian said in the most counter-performative way.

“She always seems uptight to me.” Daphne shrugged. “Unless she met up with some other lesbian I never knew existed, nothing happened that’s worthy of this game. We didn’t even kiss.”

Gillian snorted. “You made sure of that.”

There it was. Like someone had spilled blood in the conversational waters, every head in the room turned in unison.

Gillian seemed to realize it, too, and too late. She closed her eyes, took a slow, deep breath through her nose, then parted her perfect lips to release it slowly. Daphne couldn’t help but marvel at her ability to self-regulate even though she still had no idea why she needed to.

Robin, on the other hand, leaned forward with a sharkish grin. “Now, someone better say something, or there will be zero chili peppers awarded.”

“I don’t care about the game,” Gillian said evenly, then seemed to think harder about her next words, “but I’m growing weary of the allusions and innuendo, and since shame thrives in dark places, I suppose I should shine a light on the memory for my own sanity.”

“We challenge by choice,” Brooke offered gently.

Gillian threw her a grateful glance before squaring her shoulders and turning to Daphne. “I’m not sure that’s ever been a value the two of us share. You’ve offered me considerable challenge with little consent. I suppose you’d say the same for me.”

She couldn’t help but smile at Gillian’s assessment and the formality with which she always seemed to face such things. “Fair, but I’m not sure what about this particular memory brought that to the surface. We seriously didn’t kiss.”

“Correct.” Gillian pinched the bridge of her nose. “We didn’t kiss.”

“I’m getting the sense that the absence of an interaction doesn’t equal the absence of meaning making.” Tegan waded in carefully. “And Gillian, the mention of shame about something that’s clearly been carried for two decades seems worth circling back to.”

“Undoubtedly.” Gillian reached for her wine glass again only to find it empty, then frowned before going on. “What Daphne’s been dancing around is that I tried to kiss her on prom night, only to be rebuffed. I’m not sure if she’s withheld that fact due to the enjoyment she always gets from my discomfort, or out of pity.”

“I’m not sure we need to ascribe emotions to anyone else,” Brooke said.