by Liz Hsu
“Jeff, that’s awesome!” I was ecstatic for him. Jeff had always been average or below in school, but he was a huge guy and loved playing defense. And he’d always been the best friend a girl could have, so I wanted the best for him. I’d noticed a terribly wrapped something in the back seat I assumed he’d give me at some point. I couldn’t resist a curve of my lips. Heart of gold, this one.
“Yeah, I’m excited about it.” I’d known him long enough to be able to tell his smile was genuine. “Although sometimes I hate playing with Ross. I keep thinking about our last conversation in this car about how he was pressuring you to have sex, and what a jerk he was when you were sick—”
“It’s all right,” I said, interrupting. “I don’t care. I’m dating someone else now.” Saying it aloud made me jittery. It was so new, it was strange to even utter it—like I might curse it.
“That Chinese kid?” Jeff cast me a quick look.
“Charles, yep.”
“I’m glad. Ray, you look good. Real good. You still taking all that medicine and everything?”
“Jeff,” I said after a moment of hesitation. “I’ll have lupus forever.”
He nodded. “But you feel good?”
I paused for a moment, not knowing what to say. Jeffery and I still talked pretty regularly, but it was hard to explain lupus to someone. You kind of had to be there and see the good and bad days—the endless blood tests, the fatigue, the swollen joints, the clumps of hair in the drain, and pill bottles—to get it. That was my forever.
“I’m doing better than I was, but some days I’m still not doing very well,” I said honestly.
This was Jeff. I didn’t think I could be anything but honest with him, even if I faked it around most other people. Except Charles, because Charles always saw right through me.
“I guess that’s why I like being with Charles,” I continued. “He seems to understand, and he’s really busy, too—he wants to be valedictorian. I’m pretty sure he will be.”
“Dang, girl! Really? I guess he’s Asian. Aren’t they smarter than us?”
I laughed because I loved Jeffery but couldn’t help setting him straight. “That is called a microaggression. You aren’t normally one to stereotype like that. He works hard, you would not believe how hard, but yes, he is also freaky smart. It’s not because he’s Asian.”
“Ray Ray, let me tell you a secret.” His voice dropped the way it did just for me. “You’re kind of smart, too.”
This time when I laughed, it was more than halfhearted. I’d used to think so.
As we pulled into the school parking lot, I suddenly felt gripped by fear. My fingers bit into the edges of my shorts. A home game meant I’d have to see everyone again.
Jeffery’s gaze swung to me as if he could sense my withdrawal. “You okay? I have a few minutes. I can run you back…”
I stiffened my spine and put my hand on the door handle. “I can do this.”
I was one of the first people there who wasn’t a player. I bought a water and texted Charles and Dad simultaneously as I waited for the bleachers to fill and silently cursed the mosquitos I didn’t think to spray for. It had been in the thirties in Michigan this morning and it was still in the seventies here. I took a quick selfie of me in my shorts and sent it to Charles with a laughing face. Shorts season was long gone in Michigan.
“Rayanne!”
I tried not to cringe as I turned my head toward the high-pitched voice of someone I used to consider a close friend.
“Hi, Carolyn,” I said softly.
“Well, you don’t look sick at all! Are you better? Back to Tidemarsh?” She fired off a series of rapid questions as she sat down beside me. Ava gave me a nod and took Carolyn’s other side.
“I’m just here for the weekend,” I said, trying to keep the distaste out of my voice.
She leaned over to hug me, and I forced myself to hug her back. “We were all really worried about you, Rayanne.”
I stopped myself from snapping back that, for someone who was so concerned, she hadn’t communicated very much or wasted any time before flirting with my boyfriend.
Ava spoke up for the first time. “I’m glad you are doing well, Rayanne,” she said in a genuine voice. “Jeff has kept me updated. My family and I prayed for you. My abuelita said the rosary every day you were in the hospital. She still says it for you every Wednesday.”
“Oh, Ava. Please, tell her muchas gracias, Senora Garcia.”
“I’ll tell her, and happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Ava.” I gave her a small smile, but still wasn’t really comfortable talking about lupus yet. At least Ava had texted when I hadn’t come back. And her abuelita was just as sweet as pie. Our schedules had never meshed well, but Ava was great. “Any news from school?”
“Well…” Carolyn looked like she was debating saying something before blurting out, “Ross and have been seeing each other for a few weeks.”
True friend there. I saw Ava shift uncomfortably.
“That’s nice. I’m dating someone too.”
I didn’t feel jealousy, but I did feel annoyance. I didn’t know why she had to tell me she was dating my ex-boyfriend, or why she was dating him in the first place. It wasn’t like the school was small—it had a thousand students.
“Oh, totally. I saw the pictures of that guy on Instagram—Greg? He’s really cute. Looks just like Ross!” She giggled. It was starting to give me a freaking headache.
“Um, no. I’m not dating Greg. We’re friends, but no. I’m dating Charles.”
Her face went totally blank before morphing to recognition, then astonishment. “The skinny Asian guy? You’re dating him?”
I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise in irritation. “Yes.”
I pulled out my phone and showed her and Ava a picture of the two of us. Suddenly, I wished I was with Charles instead of having this conversation with Carolyn. Was it really such a surprise I might like someone like him? Or that he might like someone like me?
“Aww,” Ava said. “You guys are really cute together. You look happy in these, Rayanne, real happy.”
I smiled—I thought so too. Seeing Charles and hearing her words filled my belly with warmth. “It’s new. We’ll see.”
Luckily, the game started, and I wasn’t forced to make any more small talk with Carolyn. Now that she’d revealed her true colors, I wasn’t sure how much more I could have stomached. Or maybe she’d always been like this and I was too insecure to notice. I should have been better friends with Ava, but both of us had had jobs with opposite schedules, siblings to babysit, and neither of us drove. We had tried, but a close friendship just hadn’t seemed possible.
Both Ross and Jeffery played well. Despite everything, I was glad for them both, knowing college acceptance hung on these games. Ross and I had months of experiences together and most of them had been good. I wished him well, too.
When Ava went to the bathroom by herself during the third quarter, I whispered to Carolyn, “Hey, just be careful with Ross. He can be a little pushy.”
She laughed in my face. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it. Some guys on the team joked about you being sick with an STD and Ross told them, ‘Shut the hell up, she’s a virgin.’ And you really are, aren’t you? No one believed you dated him all those months—Ross Gutterson—and didn’t, you know.” She paused to laugh again. “That’s cute, Rayanne. That’s really cute. But baby, I’m not a virgin.”
I turned back to the game, unsure how to label the emotions I was feeling. Part of me was embarrassed as hell everyone was talking about my sex life, saying I had an STD, and part of me was grateful Ross had spoken up for me. Some guys might not lie about having had sex, but they wouldn’t correct people, either, if they assumed we had. He wasn’t always a good boyfriend, but I was glad I hadn’t completely misjudged him as a person.
But one emotion was clear: as soon as this game was over, I wanted to get the heck away from Carolyn and hopefully never talk to her again.
As soon as the buzzer ended the game, I waved goodbye, but Carolyn and Ava followed me to the players’ exit. I was tired and it was past my bedtime. I’d been trying to be good about following doctor’s orders and getting eight to nine hours of sleep, and infrequently ten or twelve, and I wasn’t in the mood to be social anymore.
The team busted out of the doors about fifteen minutes later, full of adrenaline and excitement from the win. Dirt, sweat, and joy marked all their faces.
“Rayanne!” Ross yelled above the clamor and made his way toward me. I tried not to grimace in disgust as he pulled me into a hard, wet-sweat-filled stinky hug. “God, girl, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” I patted him stiffly and tried to slide away. But he pulled me in closer and whispered, “I need to talk to you a minute.”
I stepped back. “Don’t worry, Ross. There’s nothing to say.”
He grabbed my hand and tugged me in a way I had no choice but follow if I didn’t want to make a scene. “Come on, just gimme a minute.”
He pulled me away from the crowd until we were out of earshot of everyone, but he kept his hand on my arm, almost as if worried I’d run away. He sent me a look and I swore I almost saw pain in his eyes.
“I didn’t know,” he said.
I cocked my head in confusion. “Didn’t know what, Ross?”
His cheeks turned pink, and I couldn’t recall ever seeing Ross blush before. Seven months we’d dated, and he never blushed. He darted a glance at me and then stared at my tennis shoes.
“The day you left, Jeffery pulled me over to the side before practice. He told me about a conversation you guys had had, and said if I ever touched you in a way you didn’t like, if I pressured you to have sex, he’d kick my butt from here to Timbuktu.” His hand squeezed my arm almost painfully. “Rayanne, I thought you were playing along. You know—being coy, a tease.”
He looked up at me, and I saw real remorse in his blue-gray eyes. “I wasn’t.”
He wiped his free hand through the sweaty hair plastered to his forehead. “God, I was so ashamed. I couldn’t even look him in the eye. I thought about who that made me.” His eyes held mine a moment. “Then you got sick and I just…I was too mortified to talk to you. I felt like a creep.” He shook me slightly. “I never thought that type of guy could be—would be—me.” His expression looked so pained I almost felt bad for him.
“No means no, Ross,” I said, and he winced at my cliché words.
“I’m sorry. Rayanne—”
“Ross.” I put my other hand on his before continuing, “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. It’s not like you assaulted me. It’s not like that. But I was uncomfortable, and I would have left you if you kept pushing to have sex. I wasn’t ready and had already decided if you’d asked again, I’d leave you. Just listen next time.”
He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing a few times in his throat.
“Sounds like you found someone super willing, so I wouldn’t even worry about it.”
His face sagged deeper. “I slept with Carolyn. It’s true. Several times, and she was more than willing—initiating. I needed to feel like I wasn’t—I wasn’t—” He met my eyes, unable to say the words. He swallowed visibly. “But no. No, we aren’t dating. Not anymore. That girl is way too needy. I needed to focus on football, and she never got me like you did. You were a good girlfriend—you always gave me space and encouraged me to keep up with football and running and make grades that would help me get into college.”
Yet again, I almost felt bad for him. “Does she know that? Because she told me you’re dating.”
He looked to the side, where Carolyn was staring daggers at us. “Oh, hell no. Jesus, no, that’s over. Ray, that girl.”
I patted his shoulder. “You make your bed, you have to sleep in it. Anyway, I’m really tired. I’m going to find Jeffery and go home.”
He released my arm. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Sorry about how I acted. Sorry that you’re sick. I’m sorry.”
I just nodded. “We had fun, but don’t forget my words.”
His face turned completely solemn. “Never, Ray. I swear to God, never.”
I reached up and hugged him lightly. He sagged a little, his breath hissing against my ear, and then let me go.
I walked over to where Jeffery and Ava were talking. I looped my arm through his and reached up to give his sweaty, dirt-streaked cheek a kiss. “You’re a real pal. You know that?”
He smiled, and we said goodbye to Ava before heading to his beat-up Honda.
“You talked to Ross, honey.” It wasn’t a question.
I nodded over the hood of the car before slipping in.
“So, what are your plans for the weekend?” he asked. We couldn’t stop yawning during the drive.
“Granny and Grandpa Young’s for lunch. Then I’m not sure. Church on Sunday, then going back home.” I yawned again. “Thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yes, ma’am. Hopefully, I haven’t gotten too big for my bike.”
I laughed at that. Since I could remember, Jeff and I used to bike down to the dock and watch the sunset and the fireflies come out. We hadn’t done it in a little bit since he could drive now, but it’d be fun.
When he parked, he pulled the clumsily wrapped box out of the backseat and handed it to me. Inside were a large set of vine charcoals, pressed charcoals, three rubber erasers, and five blender sticks. It was such a me gift.
Before I could even thank him, he said, “It looked like what you used to draw with and the guy at the art store near SCAD said these were the good supplies.”
I kissed his cheek again. “This is really nice. I’ve been drawing a lot more since I can’t run. I’m actually selling some pieces too, which is cool. Thanks, big guy.”
“Are you taking the driving test tomorrow?”
“No, I’m going to take driver’s ed in Michigan. Dad said I couldn’t drive there unless I took their driver’s ed because it’s longer and talks about snow and ice.”
“Alrighty then, well, happy birthday and see ya tomorrow.”
“Don’t let the bed bugs bite!”
“You don’t let um bite. And don’t scream at the cockroaches,” Jeffery yelled back as the door closed. I had not missed those nasty big guys scuttling around. When you opened the garage door at night here, they were everywhere. So freaking nasty. I grimaced as I entered the house and got ready for bed, luckily cockroach sighting free.
My bed felt like heaven when I finally crawled into it. The screened window was open, and croaking of frogs and the repetitive calls of whip-poor-wills haunted the night. Part of it was soothing, like going back in time, yet I missed the shouts of late-night college students on the streets below and the rumbling of the bus stop.
I tossed and turned, missing Michigan as I sent up a silent prayer that Dad would keep me a little longer.
The next day with Mom and Granny Young felt like an inquisition, and they were on the hunt for reasons to crucify dad. I liked my new church and believed in God, yet it was hard to stomach what they were saying, that almost everyone I cared for in Michigan—Dad, Knox, Charles and his family—would go to hell just because they believed something different.
On the drive back, I messaged Jeffery and made plans to head down to the dock to catch up some more. Golly, I needed to get out of the house for a little bit. Catching up with Jeff squeezed my heart something fierce, but as he gave me my last hug of the night and trip, he whispered, “Michigan’s good for you, Ray. I miss you, but I’m glad.”
Putting away my bike made me miss Jeff too, but not enough to move back to Georgia. Not even for him. I was relieved he understood. The day had been a stressful blend of nostalgia and condemnation. I’d been worrie
d being here might make me want to move back, but it didn’t. I wanted to go home to Michigan more than ever.
I was bone-weary, my knees hurting as I brushed my hair that night after my shower.
Dagnabbit! I blinked at the brush, then looked back at the mirror as more hair than usual fell out. I let out a hiss of breath as I inspected my scalp, discovering a small bald spot about the size of a dime. Alopecia—I guessed my lupus wasn’t as under control as I believed.
I touched it repeatedly, as if I could magically make it grow, but of course it didn’t. I wasn’t magic—just defective. I hummed one of the new Snowblowers songs to calm down, glad I was going home tomorrow. Jeff was right: Michigan was good for me.
We’d planned for me to leave straight from church, and I wanted to bury myself right into the pew when the call for prayers included, “For Rayanne Hope Ericson and her struggle with lupus.”
It was impossible to walk right out the door after the service following an announcement like that. It was one thing for Senora Garcia to do a rosary for me in the silence of her house, but quite another for half of Whitmarsh Island to be talking about me. That started the fight to the airport, and the fight that ended the trip was spurred by a me telling Mom I wouldn’t be home for Christmas. That Dad still planned to take me to visit my grandparents in Sweden for Christmas, like we did every year.
Mom felt like she deserved that holiday since I was now living with Dad. The last ten minutes of the drive were filled with her calling and screaming at Dad before she finally relented as long as I’d be here for Thanksgiving.
With a hug I wasn’t enthused about for my mom and a growing eagerness to return to Charles, my dad, and all the things I liked about Michigan, I left Savannah.
My hand stopped on the hover icon to read the newest publication from Caltech’s robotics journal. Yet that eager tempo my heart always thumped while I read this journal hit a dissonant beat. Caltech would be so far from Ray. I’d missed her so much over the weekend. So much, it terrified me.