Not If I See You First(54)



“No, we don’t—”

“Is it the way he combs his hair, or how he wears socks that don’t match—”

“He doesn’t mix his socks.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know… It’s everything.”

“It’s okay,” Sarah says. “Parker means—”

I don’t let Sarah interrupt me.

“You like everything about him? All things? Name ten. No, name three.”

Sniff.

“Okay, one. Just one thing. We can start with that.”

“He… he laughs a lot. I love his laugh.”

“Okay, good. Do you love the sound of his laugh, or how much he laughs, or…?”

“All of that.”

“How about what he laughs at? What does he think is funny?”

“I don’t know… stuff. He laughs a lot, like he’s happy and having fun all the time.”

“You’re not, though. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh.”

“Parker,” Sarah says. “I think—”

“It doesn’t matter—those were trick questions. Knowing how someone likes their coffee isn’t love or you could be a barista and problem solved.”

“Marissa,” Sarah says. “I—”

“For a year I’ve been telling you what love isn’t but maybe I should’ve been telling you what it is. I have the perfect example right here; I love Sarah. I don’t want-to-have-sex-with-her love her, but I love her like crazy. I wish more than anything I knew how to make her happy again. If a genie gave me three wishes I’d use one to bring back my dad, another for my mom, and the last one wouldn’t be to see again; I’d wish for Sarah to be happy like she used to be. That’s what love is, Marissa. It’s not magic or voodoo. It’s real. You can explain it. I can tell you exactly why I love Sarah.”

I hold my hand out and, thank God, Sarah gently interlaces her fingers with mine.

“I had lots of friends when I was little but by the time I turned eight they were mostly gone. It turns out blind Parker with a dead mom wasn’t nearly as much fun as she was before the accident. I couldn’t run around and play and I cried all the time and knocked over everything and turned into a royal bitch and one by one my friends disappeared until there were only two left. I’m not saying they were the only people who understood me or were nice, just that they were the ones who didn’t go off and find easier people to be friends with. I love Sarah because she’s been my best friend and stayed that way when it got really really hard to be my friend at all.”

Sarah lays her head on my shoulder.

“It even happened again this week. I had a bad couple of days and didn’t treat her very well but she didn’t just stomp off and sulk. She called my bullshit and we solved it. And this might sound strange but part of why I love her so much is that I don’t take it for granted. I don’t like to admit it but whenever I put my hand out a part of me worries that maybe she’s not going to be there this time, that she’s finally sick of all my selfishness and drama…”

Sarah squeezes my hand tightly and presses her temple on my shoulder.

“… and that’s why I freaked out, but then she’s always there for me and I’m so goddamn grateful I wonder what I could have possibly done to deserve her. If you want to know what a soul mate is, Marissa, that’s it. Sarah’s my soul mate. I would stand in front of a train for her, and I love her because she’d do it for me too.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same—”

“It is the same! Wanting to kiss or have sex, that’s later, another layer. It has to start with a guy who actually loves you, not just says he does, or doesn’t even say it, or doesn’t even look at you! A guy who looks at you like you’re the most important person on Earth! Who doesn’t think you and all your problems and baggage are a pain in the ass or just dead weight to carry around but worth it because you’re pretty or the best he thinks he can do! A guy who knows how f*cking crazy you really are inside and doesn’t tolerate your bullshit but loves you for it! Someone who… who… who would do anything to help you and protect you and… and… and take a crappier job at home to be there for you and teach you how to take care of yourself no matter what anyone else says, or who sits and drinks iced tea with you every single day and listens to all your stupid little stories and actually cares about all the dumb things that happened at school and… and… and who lets you say anything without getting mad as long as it’s the truth!”

I’m standing and shouting and waving my arms and Sarah is hugging me tightly and maybe crying and there’s scrambling and stuff getting knocked over and others are calling my name but it’s really important Marissa hears this but I’m being pulled somewhere and it’s not just Sarah but other arms too and it’s all I can do to keep up and not stumble and I’ve completely lost track of where I am or where I’m going until I smell cigarette smoke and pot and hear Faith snarl “Get out!” in a voice I’ve never heard before and know that we’re behind the custodian’s shed and I’m slipping to the ground sandwiched between Sarah and Faith and I’m not sure who else because I can’t hear voices clearly over all the sobbing and wailing and the oddly late realization that the hoarse and wretched barking and howling that sounds like a dying animal is coming from me…

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