The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried(57)

“Sure it is. But Rafi was right. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to become whoever you want to be.”

“That’s not it!” Dino says, cutting me off.

“What is it, then?”

Dino hangs his head. “The more I changed, the more I spent time with Rafi and the kids from the center, the further I got from you. I got Rafi, but I lost you.”

I don’t know what to say.

“I think that’s why I was so angry,” he goes on. “I was mad at me for changing, and I was mad at you for being mad at me for changing, especially since I wasn’t even certain I liked the person I was turning into. There I was, play-testing Dino 2.0, and I needed to know I could scoot a little closer to the edge and that you’d catch me if I lost my balance. But you left me, and I hated you for that.”

I keep moving my lips, but no words come out. When I don’t speak for a full minute, Dino turns from me. I don’t know what to say or what he expects me to say. I don’t know how to respond to what he told me. So I do the only thing that makes sense.

“Come on,” I say. “We have to go.”

“Where?” Dino asks. His voice sounds so exhausted, and I’m starting to feel tired too.

“Rafi’s. You need to tell him what you told me.”





DINO

RAFI’S CAR IS IN THE driveway and the lights in the house are on. His parents’ cars are also in the driveway, so there’s no way I’m knocking on the door and dealing with them.

“What does it matter if I tell him?” I say. “Let’s leave.”

I move to turn the engine on, but July plucks the keys from the ignition. “You obviously like the guy,” she says. “Even if you don’t know if you love him yet. You’re an idiot for breaking up with him. Tell him what you told me, and let him decide. He put up with your shit for the last year. He deserves the chance to make up his own mind.”

“Fine.” I get out my phone to text him that I’m outside. He doesn’t reply, but I decide to give him ten minutes before bailing. “Oh,” I say. “I found something for you.” I text a link to July. “You should take a look at it.”

“What is it?”

“Maybe a way for you to talk to your parents and to Jo.”

July looks at me, intrigued. “How—”

She’s interrupted by a knock on the car window. Rafi’s standing there looking handsome, but a little rougher around then edges than usual.

“Go,” July says. “And be honest.”

I get out of the car and shut it behind me.

“Hey,” Rafi says. He’s wearing a pair of black running shorts and a white tank top, and he looks like he’s either on his way to the gym or getting home from it.

“Sorry to drop by—”

“No! I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah?”

“Not that I’ve been sitting at home eating peanut butter Oreos and watching horror movies.”

“Horror movies?”

He nods. “Some people deal with breakups by watching sappy movies and crying it out; I deal by watching crappy horror movies and rooting for the killers.”

I stuff my hands in my pockets. “Maybe we should talk over here in front of your house. Where it’s well lit.”

Rafi smiles. His face is a symphony; his dimples, lips, and beautiful amber eyes performing one perfect movement. “I’ve missed you, Dino.”

“You saw me yesterday.”

“I’ve missed the idea of you.”

Being July was a hell of a lot easier when it was me against my parents. I’d seen July stand up to adults more times than I could count. Even when she didn’t know who she was, she fought for the right to screw up and figure it out on her own. But I’d never seen July do this. I’d never seen her uncertain or confused. Not in a meaningful way.

“Did you break up with me because I’m trans?” Rafi asks.

“What? No! Definitely not.”

Rafi breathes a sigh of relief, and I hate that it was a question he felt like he needed to ask, but I can’t be upset with him for asking.

“This is difficult for me,” I say. I feel exposed out here, standing on the sidewalk with July in the car pretending not to listen, and Rafi’s parents at the window inside pretending not to watch.

“More difficult than breaking up with me?”

I nod.

“Then just say it, Dino.” A note of frustration’s crept into his voice. “You can’t hurt me more than you already have.”

That last bit stings, but I deserve it. “I like you, Rafi. A lot.”

“I like you too. More than like.”

Rafi tries to take my hand, but I pull away. I’m afraid if he touches me I’ll melt and won’t get through the things I need to say.

“For this huge chunk of my life, I had July, and I didn’t need anyone else. She accepted me for who I was and never asked me to change. I could be lazy and indecisive and cynical and ambivalent about the world. July and I were these binary stars endlessly orbiting each other, and that made me happy.

“Then you came along.”

Rafi doesn’t speak, but tears fill the rims of his eyes, and I’ll lose it if he cries.