The You I've Never Known(31)

I think I just bombed it. You don’t say

stuff like that to a guy, especially one

you’re sort of semi trying to impress.

But as I start to offer another apology,

he smiles. For someone claiming to be

a relationship virgin, you’re amazingly self-possessed. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a good thing, and relying on your instinct is the best possible thing you can do.

I probably don’t want to know this,

but I’ve got nothing, really, to lose: “What

about you? Are you a player or a stayer?”

Player or stayer. I see what you did there.

I got around a little in high school. Then, in my senior year, I became pretty serious with this girl named Meredith. She was

a horsewoman, by the way, which is how

I know anything about them. My dad worked construction, and my mom’s a receptionist.

Pony rides were the closest I ever came

to horses before I met Merry, who was

an equestrian through and through.

She might’ve loved me, but not nearly

as much as . . . wait. Does this bother you?

“What? Hearing about your girlfriend?

Not even. I don’t read romance,

but I don’t mind a good romantic story.”

Even one that ends without a happily

ever after? At my nod, he continues, It wasn’t her fault we broke up. Not really.

When Dad died, it was such a shock.

I mean he left for work like every other day. Except that day he didn’t come home.

He fell from the roof of a three-story house, and hit his head completely wrong. It was quick, they said, not enough time to feel pain.

I’m glad Dad didn’t feel pain, but Mom and I did. I couldn’t process what happened at first, and when I finally did, I melted down.

Merry tried to help, but all that did was make me push her away. I got so sick of hearing shit like “things happen for a reason” and “it was God’s will,” and she repeated them too many times until finally I told her to get the fuck out of my life. I probably didn’t mean it, but that’s exactly what she did, and to tell you the truth I was so engaged in my Pityville vacation I didn’t even notice she’d gone.





By the Time


He did notice, and tried to make amends, she’d decided trying to

work things out would be too

labor-intensive. Besides, she was tired of seeing him miserable.

I don’t blame her. She’s intrinsically happy, and right then all that good cheer totally pissed me off.

When someone you love dies, it’s easy fold up into yourself.

“I’ve never lost anyone, not like that, anyway, but I understand

climbing into your own head

and hanging out there for a while.

It’s a great defense mechanism.

I’m really sorry about your dad.

I was thinking earlier that if

something happened to mine

I’d have no idea what to do or

where I could go. I’d be an orphan.”

Gabe inches a little closer. I’d let you move in with me, although at the moment that would mean moving in with Aunt Zelda, not that it’s such a bad place to live.





Rapid-Fire Q & A Begins


Q: How long will you be at Zelda’s?

A: I’m not exactly sure, but at least until my mom gets out of the hospital.

Q: Hospital?

A: Yeah. Mom had kind of a breakdown.

I wanted to stay and take care of her, or at least watch the house, but she said she’d be uncomfortable with me all alone.

Q: When will she be released?

A: I don’t know. She’s been there almost a month. I guess until she feels strong again, or until the insurance runs out.

Q: Then what? Are you going home?

A: That’s my plan. I’d always thought I’d get to college, but I’m afraid Mom will need me. Dad left her okay financially, but she’ll require emotional support.

Q: How far from Sonora is Stockton?

A: Not so far. A little over an hour if you don’t speed. Why? Will you miss me?





I Admit I Would


Though the funny thing

is, knowing he’ll probably not stay around actually

relieves some pressure.

Whatever our connection,

I can play this game my way, and not have to pretend

I’m anyone except who I am.

Which turns out to be

a good thing, because now it’s Gabe’s turn to ask questions, including one I’ve never

had to answer out loud.

Something you said interested me. When you were talking about inviting people to share a drink or a kiss, you included girls in the comment. Are you into women or did my dirty little mind make that up?

I try to form the proper

sentences, but swallow

the first words that surface.

Forming cohesive thoughts around my frequent musings isn’t something I’m practiced at. Honesty. Let’s start there.

“I wish I was one hundred percent sure about who

or what I’m ‘into,’ as you put it. As I mentioned, I’ve never actually tried either boys or girls, but truthfully, I seem to be attracted to both.