History Is All You Left Me(74)

His desire to make me comfortable is only making me anxious. I want to be able to talk to him because I have no one else, but I can already feel an itch in the center of my palm. “Let’s just do this.”

Dr. Anderson relaxes back into his seat. “Your parents have filled me in on everything you’ve been going through lately,” he says gently. “I’d love to hear everything from you.”

This is impossible because they don’t know everything. They don’t know I played a role in Theo’s death, and they don’t know everything I’ve been up to since breaking up with him. My face warms up. I scratch at my palm and pull at my earlobe. I turn away from Dr. Anderson, staring at the wall so he’s now to my right. I want to punch all the stupid certificates that supposedly credit him with powers to heal me. I want to tear the clock away that’s simultaneously crawling and rushing me.

This is not going to help. Dr. Anderson has as many true powers as a street magician. He’s just a dude with card tricks and hidden wires.

But I know I’ve been lying to myself, too. I know Theo is still out there, watching me. He’s followed me into his room, and this can’t be how he finds everything out.

I have to tell him myself.

Saturday, December 17th, 2016

I’m ready to talk again, Theo.

I should say sorry for giving you the silent treatment, but we can both agree that’s the last thing I should be apologizing for right now. I have no words for what I learned on Wednesday. But words never even brought you back to me when you were alive. Words are actually what sent you walking into the Pacific Ocean. You have to know I’m sorry for being the reason you’re no longer part of this universe, for being the reason you will never get to experience the future you were working so hard for, for being the reason you will never get to employ any of your genius strategies against the damn zombie pirates, and for being the reason everyone will grieve until they’re dead themselves.

But there’s something else you should know. It’s time I use my words for good and stop twisting them just because I regret the truth.





HISTORY


Wednesday, February 10th, 2016

“I’m not going.”

I throw my textbooks in my locker, one by one, take out my peacoat, and slam the door shut. Several students glance at me as if there’s a bubble above my head that will tell them why I’m so pissed and hurt, but they keep moving so they can get home and watch Netflix and dick around on Facebook. But Wade isn’t leaving my side.

“We haven’t seen him in, what, five or six months?” Wade says. “It’s his birthday.”

“And he brought his new boyfriend here to spend it with him.” I spent the past month excited about Theo coming home for his birthday, but a couple of days ago, he dropped the Jackson bomb over text. “He doesn’t want me there,” I say. Theo doesn’t want me, period. I walk away, putting on my coat and hat.

“You broke up with him,” Wade says.

“He wasn’t supposed to move on the next day with some me-knockoff,” I say.

“I thought it was two months,” Wade says. “And you guys aren’t clones.”

“We had a plan and he’s . . . I don’t care.” I leave through the side entrance, the cold biting at my face immediately. I hope Californian Jackson is having a rough time out here.

Wade follows me outside without his coat and jumps in my way. “I swear you’re going to regret this.”

“Get back inside.” I try to walk around him, but he’s persistent.

“You both swore to me you wouldn’t let your relationship get in the way of our squad, remember?”

I remember. I remember being that idiot. “Take it up with Theo.”

“Well, I’m still going to the dinner.” Wade shivers and shakes his head. “At least give him a call later, okay? I know you’ll both feel better if you at least talk.”

“Okay.” I can do that. “Seriously, get back inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.” We fist-bump and Wade finally lets me pass him, just in time so I can cry without him seeing me.

The puzzle portrait of Theo and me, the one Wade gave me two Christmases ago, sits in my lap. I’ll never understand how time can make a moment feel as close as yesterday and as far as years.

So I call Theo, remembering all the good things about Theo during our friendship and relationship, like how thoughtful he’s always been and how he’s always made me feel safe. If I focus on all the times he’s messed up since he met Jackson, I’ll just be an asshole, which he doesn’t need from me, especially not on his birthday.

“Hello?” He’s upset.

“Hey,” I say. “Happy birthday.” I want to ask how dinner is, but common sense shuts me up.

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it out tonight,” I say. I do regret not going—maybe Wade is psychic after all—but I also know it was the right move.

“Same,” Theo says. “You think you’ll be able to hang out tomorrow? I really want to see you.”

Maybe our relationship isn’t such a blip in his eyes after all. “Yeah, Wade and I can—” I shut up when I hear Jackson and Ellen laughing in the background. Bonding has never made me feel so nauseous before. “Hey, I have to go. But enjoy the rest of your night, okay?”