Love, Hate and Other Filters(31)

So it comes tumbling out, the whole Phil story—the tutoring sessions and the pond and the cottage and almost kissing and Lisa and the anger. I tell him what I took forever to admit to myself, that Phil was my first real crush. That we’ve known each other forever. And it’s only now that I’ve realized that maybe, just maybe, Phil has been noticing me, too. Phil and I are totally different, but at the core, we share something that made the pond our little self-contained universe. And it was almost enough.

I take a deep breath. “It’s all such a mess. I don’t know how I let myself fall for Phil.”

“You can’t help who you love,” Kareem says, totally matter-of-fact.

I stiffen at the mention of the L-word. “Love?”

“Hate to break it to you, but that’s kinda what it sounds like.”

“I was afraid that’s what it was.”

“It’s not outside of you. It’s a part of who you are, not an object you can film and capture in different kinds of light. It’s love. If it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t hurt.”

“But I don’t want this. I don’t want to be … to be in love with him. I mean, we can never be together, and I’ll end up—”

“Brokenhearted? You’ll get over it.” He laughs softly. “Believe it or not, Maya, there are a few people who once felt exactly like you do right now.”

“Like their bodies are ripping apart?”

“Like the world is crumbling and their souls are being crushed.”

“Looking forward to the soul crushing.” I manage a grin.

“It isn’t a consolation, but I’d put the number at around a billion. And that’s just today. I’m not counting all of human history. Plenty of other people have survived heartbreak. Believe me, I know. And that’s why I know you’ll be fine. You’re graduating from high school; there are going to be plenty of other guys out there waiting—”

“To rip my heart out?”

He pulls back and tilts my chin up, so we’re face-to-face. “No. Waiting for a girl like you. And from what you’ve told me, I’d say you’re wrong about Phil. He seems into you.”

I’m at a loss. “You think so?”

Kareem lets my chin go and takes my left hand in his. “Let me give you the guy’s version of the situation. Phil likes you. He could’ve spent spring break having sex with his girlfriend, but instead he spent a week with you, where the main action was five minutes of G-rated hand-holding. Obviously, he’s got to break up with her, but he’s scared. You might have heard this before, but guys aren’t always the best communicators.”

“You’re pretty good at it.”

“Yes,” Kareem says, then leans back with both hands behind his head. “I am rather great, aren’t I?”

We burst out laughing. Then Kareem gets serious for a second. “It gets better, Maya. Even if the world seems to be crashing all around you right now.”

I sniff and nod. “Cue Bollywood dance number.”

He nods back, matching my smile. “At any moment dancers will unfurl from the tops of the willow’s boughs, lip-synching a reminder that the sun will shine again.”

I start to shake my head no. But the thing about what Kareem says is, right now, the sun is, in fact, shining. I’m not trapped. I’m still living in the world of the possible, and I actually have the power to make the possible real.

“So what are we going to tell our parents? I’m pretty sure my mom already has the wedding invitations picked out.” I ask because my mom’s disappointment isn’t merely possible; it’s assured.

“Really?” Kareem says dryly. “I hadn’t detected that enthusiasm behind her effusive welcome. Simple is best and most believable. We want to be friends. Boom. Done.”

“Wow. I’m … speechless.”

He winks at me. “Great communicators like me have that effect on most women.”

I have to laugh again. “Thank you for being so—so you. You’re amazing at it.” I dab at my eyes with a napkin. “Do I look all blubbery?”

“You look beautiful. Now shall we?”

Kareem stands up and stacks the cups and plates to carry inside. I find myself floating off again to another possible future, where Kareem is getting married but I am not the bride. I think of how that mystery woman will have Kareem’s caring arms around her and how he will gently kiss her lips and stroke her hair. For a moment I’m jealous of a future that another girl will have with the guy I rejected.

I sigh.

Apparently getting what you want still comes at a price.

The car idles. He runs his fingers rhythmically over the indentation on the back of his head. Buckle and scar.

His body sways gently, almost imperceptibly. Back and forth. Buckle and scar.

His mind slips to last fall and a writing course at the local community college.

He was filled with something vaguely resembling hope when he walked in and spotted a pretty, brown-haired girl in the third row with an empty seat next to her. He took a few hesitant steps toward her. When he reached down to pull back the empty seat, a hand grasped his shoulder from behind and pushed him aside.

Don’t even think about it, loser.

For the rest of the class, he sat in the back row, staring at the smiling couple. Seething.