Tell Me Three Things(72)

I did figure it out.

Most of it, at least. Maybe Scar is right: I am more kick-ass than I give myself credit for.

“Can you imagine how lonely it’s been for me? Not now. I mean, now I’m okay. But not so long ago, I felt like I didn’t have anyone in the world. And you were out every night with Rachel or holed up with your laptop. It’s not like I hate her or anything. I mean, I don’t know her, actually. I guess…thank her for my ticket, please.” I pause, take a breath. Of course I should do that myself, and I will.

“It’s just, I moved into this house, and have like, this weird room with these big paintings on the wall, like a third grader did them. What’s up with that? Anyhow, it’s not the art or even the soap with those strange letters, which make my hands smell nice, really, unfamiliar but nice, but it’s just not mine, you know? And I just…It sucked, Dad. I mean, it really sucked,” I say. Nope, the tears have not retreated; they’re back, spilling down my cheeks, and I’m at work, and I just hope the bell doesn’t ring anytime soon. I think I have said more to my dad in the last thirty seconds than I have in the last three months. Sometimes when I start, when the words finally find themselves, I can’t hold back the momentum.

“Oh, sweetheart.” My dad stands up, and I think he’s coming to give me a hug, so I wave him off. I don’t want to cry on his shoulder. Not right now. I’m not ready yet. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

“I don’t want an apology. I don’t want anything. I’m mad at you, and I have a right to be mad at you. And I’ll stop soon. You’re my dad, and of course I’ll stop. I get it. Our world exploded. And you just didn’t have enough left over. I kind of did the same thing to Scar. And I wish I were stronger or better or something and I didn’t need anything from you. But I’m not. And I do. It would have been nice if we could have done this together. But we didn’t. And it’s done. We’re here now, and we’re making it work. But it’s really sucked.”

“I think ‘really sucked’ is too much of an understatement. It’s ‘f*cking sucked,’?” my dad says, and he half smiles, and I can’t help it, I smile back. He hates foul language; if this had been two years ago, there’s no way he would have used the F-word. “Okay, you can still be mad at me. Fair enough. But you can’t stop talking to me again. I can’t take that. I miss telling you something that happened each day. I’ve been writing things down so I could tell you when you started talking to me again. And we need to start spending time together.”

“Eww, no. I’m sixteen. I can’t hang out with my father.” I smile as I say it. I miss my dad, probably even more than he misses me. “That’s, like, so uncool.”

“Let me give you one bit of parental advice, if I may. Cool is way overrated.”

“Says the guy wearing the plastic name tag.”

“Touché.”

“You love her, don’t you?” I ask, apropos of nothing, but it’s not, not really.

“Rachel? Yeah, I do. I mean, I leapt in a little fast, and we’re figuring out the kinks, but yeah, I love her. But that doesn’t mean—” I smile at him, bat away his words. He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. I’m not a child anymore. I know that how he feels about her has nothing to do with me. Or my mom, for that matter.

I know that love is not finite.

And also this: I’ll be leaving for college in less than two years. A part of me will be relieved to know he’s not alone.

“I get it.”

My dad looks around again, breathes in the paper smell.

“Mom would have loved this place. Even its silly name. Though probably not the exclamation point.”

“I know.”

“I love you, sweet potato.”

“I know.”

My phone bleeps. Text from Scarlett.



Scarlett: Holy shit. We did it.

Me: Seriously? It-it?

Scarlett: Yup.

Me: And?

Scarlett: I give us a 7, maybe an 8, which isn’t bad for the first time. Hurt a little. And the whole condom thing was tricky, trickier than with a banana, and it was awkward, you know? But still. Good. I think we’ll do it again in a minute.

Me: WHERE ARE YOU?

Scarlett: In the bathroom. Had to tell you right away, and had to pee, so I’m multitasking.

Me: So ADAM IS STILL IN YOUR BED?!?!

Scarlett: Yup.

Me: Did you just emoji me?

Scarlett: What can I say? I have it bad. Starting the pill next week to be totally covered.

Me: So happy for you, you little slut!

Scarlett: Love you.

Me: Love you too. xoxo. Tell Adam congrats from me.



“What are you smiling at?” my dad asks, since I am, apparently, grinning goofily at my phone. Scar lost her V-card! I want to say it out loud because it’s so exciting and I’m so happy for her, but no, no I won’t.

“Nothing. Just something funny from Scar.”

“Her mom says she has a boyfriend,” my dad says, and I laugh, picturing Mrs. Schwartz and my dad gossiping about Scar and Adam.

“Yeah.”

“She’s really dating Adam Kravitz? He was always a little shrimpy.”

“He’s been working out.”