Mixed Signals Read online

  She tried to shove the banana into the condom she’d opened, but it broke in half and fell on the floor with a loud splat. That summed up my previous forays into sexual liberation pretty well, actually.

  “Gabriel, Arden is right,” John said from behind me. His confident snipping gave me hope that perhaps I wouldn’t have to shave all my hair off and start from scratch. “We can’t send our sister out into the world unprotected. Hernandez will be around to watch out for her, but he’s ex-military, not some kind of virginity bodyguard.”

  Edwin. If only John knew how wrong he was. As if my siblings casually discussing my virginity wasn’t bad enough, they had to remind me of my failed attempt to rid myself of it. Edwin Hernandez had made it clear that guarding my virginity was the only interest he had in it.

  “Guys, I’m an adult now. I don’t need your advice here. And Mom and Dad already had this talk with me.” That silenced them. “Except Mom pulled a giant zucchini from the garden and used that instead of a banana. Dad got all freaked and suddenly remembered he had to go build some plant boxes, and I escaped with him. But I get the gist. I mean, I hate to break it to you, but I’ve seen a penis before. Not a big deal.”

  The penis belonged to a creepy dude who’d flashed me during a history class at my program, but that was none of their business. The sad facts were that I had recently turned twenty and the only relationship I’d had with a guy had taken place four years ago and played out completely online. The Flare had put an abrupt end to that courtship, and Devon probably hadn’t survived its aftermath. I tried not to think about him too much anymore, but I vividly remembered how excited he’d been about college and the possibilities that lay ahead of us. He’d likely have jumped at the opportunity I was sulking over.

  “I’m sad that the penis you saw was no big deal, but point taken,” Arden said, interrupting my thoughts. She put her props down out of frame.

  Gabriel sighed in resignation and grumbled, “Just be careful, okay? Make sure you practice the self-defense moves Dad taught you every day. Five eye gouges, five ball busters, five hold wiggles, then repeat.”

  “Oh, and don’t accept drinks from strangers,” Arden contributed.

  John grabbed my head and turned it to the side. He stuck the comb between his lips as he snipped close to my ear, so his words were muffled. “Or just don’t drink at all and save us all the worry.”

  I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t very keen on drinking and they all knew it—Arden and John shared the title of family lush. “You guys are the ones who said I had to go out and experience the world. There are dangerous things out there, and you have to deal with the fact that if I encounter them, I’ll handle them as best I can.” Part of me thrilled at getting to guilt trip them, but most of me was scared because I was right. I wouldn’t have my family for backup anymore. Gabriel and Arden wouldn’t come save the day if some sicko kidnapped me again. John wouldn’t be around to say just the right thing to help me get through the day. My mom and dad wouldn’t be there to shower me with love, even when I was being an asshole.

  “Well, if in all this time with us you haven’t learned enough to get by, there’s no hope for you, child.” John tried to play his words off as world-weary, but there was a tremble in his voice that made my throat tighten all over again.

  “I was scared shitless when I first left for college,” Arden said, leaning into Gabriel. I repositioned the tablet to keep them in sight as John turned my head this way and that. “I really did sleep with my baseball bat in bed next to me. I once burst into tears in the dining hall because I missed my parents’ cooking so much.”

  Gabriel cleared his throat. “I may or may not have cried during a bout of homesickness my first week. In the shower, no one can see your tears.”

  It was weird, and oddly reassuring, to imagine Gabriel, Mr. I’m-in-Control, having a crying fit in the shower.

  “I was too busy drowning in peenish possibility to cry,” John said, his voice dreamy. “I didn’t actually do much, but the opportunity was there. It was glorious, those first few days of understanding what freedom was and how I could shape my own life.”

  I smiled. “So basically it’s okay to cry, but if I don’t want to I should distract myself with penises? Penii? Whatever. Sounds like a plan.”

  “The connection is starting to go,” Arden said. Their image froze on the screen and then regained motion, backing up her words. “Love you! Message me when you get to Oswego!”

  Gabriel nodded along with Arden’s declaration of love. “They finally fixed up that stretch of railroad in Indiana that got taken out by the neo-Luddites, so we can get home in a week or so if necessary. If you need me to kick someone’s ass, or surgically remove one of their vital organs, just let me know. Your hair looks really good, by the way.”

  I’d thought cutting my hair was shocking, but that paled in comparison to Gabriel complimenting it. Gabriel was a man of action more than words, despite Arden’s influence. I wasn’t used to getting any feedback from him beyond “good job” when I did something he approved of. My eyes flew up to the mirror to see what had prompted his words, and I completely forgot he and Arden were still on the line as I gazed at myself.

  Holy shit. This time, I did inspect my features like an amnesiac coming out of a coma, which was excusable because I looked like an entirely different person.

  My hair was short and choppily cut, a bit longer in the middle. I didn’t quite know how to categorize it. Perhaps the spawn of a pixie cut and a fauxhawk. Whatever the name for it, it was perfect. This was the Maggie I imagined when I closed my eyes and let my fingers fly over the strings of my guitar. This was a woman who could go out into the world on her own and be just fine.

  I’d always kept my hair long because I was tall and square-jawed—exactly the opposite of everything people thought of when they rhapsodized about delicate Asian women. I’d told myself I didn’t care, because fuck whatever expectations people had of me, but my hair had been a nod to the femininity that my height and bone structure had ruled out for me. Now I saw how ridiculous that had been. Yeah, my ears were kinda weird, but my nose was pert, my mouth was full and my jawline was perfectly made to balance out the rest of my face.

  I was...kind of hot.

  “Oh my God!” I turned back to the screen, but it was blank—the connection had been lost. A momentary sadness enveloped me when I saw the cute cat screen wallpaper instead of their faces, but I’d try to reach them again soon. At school, I’d hopefully have more reliable access to the internet. I turned to John and hugged him. “You are the best brother ever, you know that?”

  “Nice try, but I heard you tell Gabriel the same thing before he left. And Mykhail, when he fixed your guitar for you.” I grinned up at him; he looked pleased, despite my fickleness. “Besides, weren’t you just cursing me for pulling strings to get you into the Oswego program? I believe I heard the term ‘dictatorial tool of the patriarchy’ once or twice.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine. I may have been overreacting. I guess it is an honor to be enrolled in one of the first post-Flare college classes. Besides, it’s only two years, right? It’ll probably be fun, and if not then I’ll run away and join a group of traveling Throwbacks.” That part was definitely teasing. If people wanted to play at faux-Amish lifestyles while even the Mennonites were rebuilding their solar energy farms, that was on them. I enjoyed the perks of modern life, like sewage treatment plants. “Thank you, John.”

  “You’re welcome, dear sister. Lord, as if you being a little rock star in the making wasn’t bad enough.” He looked at me the same way he looked at the couture blazer I’d stolen from his closet earlier that day, so I knew his words were meant as a compliment. “This haircut just guaranteed you’ll have half of the coed student body sniffing after you. I know you’re smart, and that this world really just operates on luck, but please promise me you’ll be as caref
ul as you can. The new satellites they launched aren’t online yet, so the GPS tracker I had implanted in you when you turned thirteen is nonfunctional. I’ll need you to give me your word instead.”

  “I promise to be careful,” I said. I went to pull my fingers through my hair, like I always did when I was nervous, but my hand passed through air. I’d always wanted to break the habit, and now I didn’t have a choice. I’d also have to work a little harder at controlling my facial expressions since I couldn’t sweep my long bangs in front of my face.

  The crunch of tires on dirt outside grabbed my attention and set off a panicked hammering in my chest.

  “Maggie, your ride is here!” Dad’s voice boomed from the bottom of the stairs.

  Get a grip. It’s only Edwin.

  The whole thing was ridiculous, a stupid unrequited crush on a stupid guy and his stupid morals. If Edwin still wanted to see me as the seventeen-year-old who’d mooned after him when he first came to visit with John and Mykhail, then it was no skin off my back. I glanced at myself in the mirror, then spotted the red lipstick that had fallen out of the morass of expired cosmetics when John had grabbed the comb. I swiped it on and stared at myself.

  Oswego, here I come.

  Chapter Two

  After cleaning and taking a quick shower to get rid of the itchy post-haircut feeling, I squeezed into my lucky skinny jeans, plus a camisole topped with a hoodie, and marched down the stairs. I took a deep breath and steeled myself against the fear and sadness at leaving my family, only to discover that the apprehension had mostly disappeared along with the hair I’d been using as a shield. I’d always laughed at the makeover scene in romantic comedies, thinking it silly that something as inane as a new look could change a person’s mindset. I’d add that to the list of things I’d been mistaken about, right behind A guy will never turn down an opportunity for no-strings-attached sex.

  I walked past a family portrait that hung on the wall and checked myself out again. John had gifted me with some expensive hair gel he’d been hoarding for the last few years, so my hair had a cool spiky look to it now and smelled fab to boot. With my guitar case strapped to my back, and my eyes smudged in smoky black in addition to the bright rouge on my lips, I felt like a rock goddess descending to meet a throng of her groupies. There was only one person I wanted to impress, though, even if it was just to prove to myself that I was capable of it.

  I searched my mental repository of music, scanned down the “Feeling Sexy” playlist, and chose Fiona Apple’s “Criminal,” an oldie Arden had passed down to me. I’d practiced the song enough that I didn’t struggle to recall the dramatic, sensuous melody vibrating down the strings as I strummed, or the way the lyrics rasping out of my mouth made me feel like sex on a stick. I’ve been a bad, bad girl... With my mental theme music in place, I clunked down the last two steps in my high-heeled booties, ready to take on the world. If I didn’t trip and fall on my face.

  John, Mykhail and my parents were clustered near the bed of Edwin’s beat-up truck talking animatedly. From a distance, it looked like they were being attacked by a cloud of insects with the way their hands were swinging to and fro, but that was a normal level of conversational liveliness for them. Edwin was bent over in the driver’s side door, conveniently displaying how well his jeans hugged his ass. That same feeling I always got when I saw him, a weird mix of elation and nausea, surged in my belly. Puking would kind of ruin the “I’m sexy and I know it” effect I was going for, so I gulped a calming breath down deep into my belly, forcing myself to relax.

  I was so focused on making sure I looked cool during my approach that I’d forgotten no one had seen the new Maggie besides John. My mother’s serene expression changed so quickly that it would have been comical if not for the high-pitched wail she emitted when she saw me.

  “Maggie! All your beautiful hair! Gone!” It was as if my appearance had shocked the ability to form complete sentences right out of her.

  My dad hid his surprise better, giving me a jovial, “Hey now! Who’s this beautiful stranger?”

  John must have told Mykhail what to expect because he pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded in exaggerated appreciation, like the weird guy in the corner of a techno club.

  In my peripheral vision, I saw Edwin turn to check out the commotion. I hadn’t been able to fully meet his gaze since the whole Hey, can you devirginize me? incident. When we spoke, I was usually looking at an eyebrow or some point just above his ear. But that was before I felt this unfamiliar self-assuredness nudging at me from behind, pushing me toward the road that lay ahead whether I was ready for it or not.

  I lifted one corner of my mouth, the look my high school friends and I had deemed “the coquettish smile” during our selfie sessions, and peeked up at him from under my lashes. “Hey.” A simple greeting, but I hoped it transmitted the essence of a line from one of the movies that played on the classics channel all the time before the Flare. Big mistake. Huge.

  I didn’t know why it mattered. I was going to college, where I’d meet people I liked and who actually wanted to “give me the D,” to quote Arden, sex ed teacher extraordinaire. It would be beyond uncool if one of these hypothetical futuristic suitors decided to keep pestering me after I’d said no thanks. I didn’t want to be that creep, fawning over someone with the hopes that one day I’d beat them into submission and they’d settle for me. What kind of love song would that make? It only took ten years, of you living in fear, but finally you’re mine, baby, please stop crying...

  Although I filed away those lyrics for later, I didn’t want to make them a reality. I needed something, though. Recognition? Validation? And the ridiculous part of my brain still hung up on a teenage crush needed it from Edwin.

  “Hey, Mags. You look—different. Great, I mean.” Edwin flashed me the same dimpled smile he always did. His voice was the same baritone that always made warmth pool in my stomach. His bronze skin was darker from a summer spent doing construction work, but not by much, since Gabriel had hectored him about the importance of sunblock and wide-brimmed hats. Only one thing was different, really, and it wasn’t anything that would be noticeable to someone who hadn’t analyzed his every move for years—he didn’t touch me. Usually, he pulled each of us into a big hug, this new family of his who had replaced those who’d been lost to him. But instead of giving me the usual hug and kiss on the cheek, a routine he’d kept up even after my awkward request, he took a step away from me. And then another. And then slid his hands into his pockets.

  Interesting.

  I should have been chagrined, but I’d seen him retreat from me in awkwardness and discomfort before—this wasn’t that. When he looked at me again, there was something in his gaze that I knew had never been there before. A flash of interest that was deeper than “Did you have a good day at school?” or “Do you have a five of hearts?”—the polite but distant questions that had made up most of our conversations. This was interest of a more personal nature.

  “Thanks.” I closed the space between us. I didn’t look away, and he didn’t either; I felt a little surge of power at that small exertion of my control because I didn’t think he could look away. When I’d walked right up to him, I stretched my arms up over my head, feeling the cool breeze brush against the exposed skin of my belly and wondering if his eyes traced the same path. After wriggling out of the guitar case’s strap and pulling it over my head, I turned and shoved it in the backseat.

  He was still looking at me a little warily, like I was playing some kind of joke on him and he wasn’t sure whether it was funny or not yet. “You ready to go?” he asked. “We should get on the road so we have plenty of time to get there before dark, in case there are delays.”

  The delays he was talking about were of the sinister variety, like modern-day highwaymen and the inevitable detours caused by roads that weren’t safe enough to pass, but my mind immediate
ly jumped to the more enjoyable ways we could bide our time. I thought of Edwin reaching across the car for me with longing in his eyes and my fantasy soured immediately—I’d been in that situation before, and it hadn’t been sexy, in the least. I didn’t want to associate Edwin with that particular moment in time, so I suppressed the thought. It could go back in that mental trunk where women hid the memories that reminded them of how unsafe the world could be, lest they never leave the house.

  “Thanks for offering to drive me to school, by the way. I really appreciate it,” I said. “Let me say see you later to the family and I’ll be ready to go.”

  He nodded his assent, and I turned to face the now-standard “Seong, So Long” hug assembly line. We were as efficient as Ford at this point—there were only so many long, drawn-out goodbyes a family could take. With John and Mykhail living full-time at Burnell, Arden and Gabriel across the country, and Darlene completing her emergency services training in a nearby town and moving out with Morris, this was par for the course, even if I felt a little like my chest was being kicked in.

  “You did this to spite me, didn’t you?” my mother asked as she hugged me so hard that my back cracked. She reached up and tugged at the short hair behind my ear.

  “Yup,” I responded. “And because I wanted a change. But mostly to spite you. I’m going to knit you a sweater with the hair I cut so that every winter you’re reminded of my act of defiance.”

  She laughed and gave me an extra squeeze. “You remind me of myself at your age.”

  “Don’t say that, Kit,” my dad interrupted, tugging me into his own quick hug. “I’d just convinced myself not to worry about her, but if she’s anything like you were...”

  “Then some man or woman will be very lucky to have her one day, yes?” My mom smiled at my dad, and it was a bit too close to seductive for my liking, continuing the trend of “the Seongs get their groove back.” They’d taken a shot at reopening the small grocery store they’d had in town, but the new normal made procuring items at a reasonable cost and in a timely manner way too annoying. They’d finally settled on early retirement since they’d grown used to living off the land and bartering anyway. I did not want to think about what they were going to get up to now that they had an empty nest and all that free time.