Upstairs, Thomas pretends to help Katie learn French so Panda will see that he is a good guy, and take him back. Panda listens at the door and is sad because she’s a secret genius, and she knows Thomas is offering to shag Katie eleven ways ’till Sunday. Katie doesn’t know that, but she does know that there’s a bed and a dude, so she kisses him. Then, awesomely, she’s like, “I didn’t … I don’t … what the f–k is the matter with me?”
Thomas goes, “Sorry. I can’t stop loving Panda, and also I’ve got some running to do, because even though I didn’t sit any exams and was, in fact, expelled from school, there is an Ivy League university in the United States that rich kids spend twelve years in private schools preparing to attend, and they’re dying to offer an inexperienced athlete a spot on their track team.”
Back downstairs, Naomi wants to dance. Mostly, she just doesn’t want to think. Mandy tries to leave, but Naomi stops her and begs her to stay. Naomi cues up Wham!, shouts “Yay!”, closes her eyes and the rhythm gets her. Controlled abandon: it’s her mask, her modus operandi.
I guess I must have loved you
Because I said you were the perfect girl for me
Mandy moves closer, locking her hips with Naomi’s. She turns back to look at Emily over her shoulder. This isn’t the first time she’s pressed her body against another girl. She wants Emily to know it.
And now we’re six months older
And everything you want and everything you see
is out of reach, not good enough.
I don’t know what the hell you want from me.
Naomi says Mandy dances pretty good, for a straight girl. She keeps saying it out loud, willing it to be true. Naomi opens her eyes, hedges her bets: “We have problems, me and Emsy,” she shouts. “‘Cause I was … bad. Isn’t that right, Ems?”
Emily’s face contorts in anger and in pain. “See? I’m forgiven!” Naomi shouts. “It’s just been heaven these last months. F–king heaven!”
Somebody tell me why I work so hard for you?
Mandy looks at Emily one more time, and it’s enough. She storms out of the room.
Mandy turns to Naomi. She says her name, to make sure she has her attention, then reaches out to caress her breast. This is not the first time she’s touched a girl. It’s time for both of them to know.
“If you don’t want her,” Mandy says, leaning in to kiss Naomi, “I do.”
Naomi slaps Mandy so hard that she stumbles backward. She’s as sober as she’s ever been; her face flashes through every stage of grief.