Gone, Gone, Gone(34)

He says, “Do you have two sets of dry clothes?”

“What? Of course. Why?”

He pushes me up against the counter. I’m cold everywhere he touches me, except my mouth, my mouth is burning against his mouth. I’m all wet. I’m melting.

Lio meets the animals and says hello to Zippers again. He asks me, softly, if I’d like to go out looking for them tonight. I want to so badly, but he’s shaking already from asking me, and I think he’s had enough scare for one day. “Maybe someone will call who found one,” I say. “Wouldn’t that be better?”

He nods.

“Yeah. So someone else can find them tonight.”

He looks around the kitchen, the dining room, giving himself a small tour. I should show him around, or say something, but I’m too stunned by his presence in my house. He fits in like a painting into a gallery, in a way that I never did. I’ve always been too loud and too messy for my parents’ things.

“Where’s your brother?” he asks eventually.

“At the mall.”

He laughs. “We should hook him up with one of my sisters. They love the mall.”

“He’s old.”

“So are some of my sisters!” He has this huge smile on his face, like he was carved from a pumpkin. When do I ever see Lio smile?

He looks f*cking adorable in my pajamas, like he’s a kid on Christmas morning, or a boy trying on his dad’s clothes. It’s so much easier just to look at him than to think about things, and the truth is that looking at him is making me goddamn happy.

After about an hour—we play video games—I tell him, “You really need to call your dad. And probably your sister.”

“Which one?”

“Um, as many as you like, but I was thinking mostly the one whose car you stole.”


He nods and uses my house phone and lies on the floor of the living room with his feet up on the table and Michelangelo, who Mom brought home from the shelter, curled up on his stomach. (Still need: One dog, two cats, two rabbits, a guinea pig).

“Hey, Dad,” he says after a minute. “How’s Michelle?”

He’s quiet for a long time. I wonder if his dad is talking this whole time or if there are long pauses where he waits for Lio to speak.

And then he keeps asking about Michelle, again and again, like each time his dad isn’t giving him enough of an answer, or isn’t giving him the answer he wants. And I remember when we first started talking, over IM.



Liodore: you have siblings?

ThisIsntSparta: a brother

Liodore: how many?

ThisIsntSparta: 1?

Liodore: must be weird

ThisIsntSparta: how many sisters do you have?

Liodore: a million

see, theyre kinda my whole world

Now I’m sitting here watching him nod at the phone and beg for more information on the sister that he wanted to be with, that he skipped school to be with, and I’m thinking that I should have just made the U-turn. It’s no good if I want him to be here more than he does, that’s not how this can work. I need more of a push than that. He shouldn’t be here. Shit shit shit shit what am I doing?

Then Lio tells his dad, “I’m at Craig’s,” and I can tell by the way he says my name that he’s told his father about me. I feel kind of obnoxiously happy.

“I’m totally safe,” he says. “We’re right by the school . . .” He closes his eyes for a second. “I know. I know.”

He seems smaller than usual when he talks to his father. Not in a bad way, just a younger one. I wonder if everyone gets younger when they talk to their parents. I spend too much time around mine. I need to get out of the house more. I need a hobby. Besides the animals. Maybe I’ll start trying to give a shit about karate again.

He says, “Yeah. Craig drove. Yeah, he has his license.”

I grin a little. Yeah, okay.

He says, “That’s fine. Can she bring me clothes and a toothbrush?”

I look at him. I’m probably making the same face his dad is. Are you sure? Don’t you want to be with your family right now? Don’t you want to be surrounded? Aren’t you scared? You sound scared.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says. He nods. “I want to stay here tonight.” His voice is so quiet. “I feel safe here, Dad.”

It’s not until after he hangs up that he says, “Is that okay?”

“Of course. Um, we have a spare room.”

He nods.

“Upstairs,” I say. It’s not really a spare room. Technically it’s actually my room. But I moved to the basement when my dad started worrying about the pee and the carpet. Animal pee, obviously.

Like he’s reading my mind, he says, “Where’s your room?”

He doesn’t ask in a sexy way, just in a curious way. And that makes me feel a little relieved, to be honest. I think, that if we did share a room, I’d be more likely to cry myself to sleep tonight than try anything. It’s one of those nights. And maybe Lio is one of those boys.

The stomachache I got when he was on the phone is back, and, God, maybe I really did make a huge mistake, bringing him here, kissing him back, dressing him in my clothes, looking at him in my clothes.

“The basement,” I say. “Come on.” I lead him down, one hand on the banister, flicking on the lights as I go. I feel bad that his feet are bare. He must be freezing. “Do you want some socks?” I ask.