What Love Means

by F N Manning

  She gasped. “Do you like him?”

  I grimaced. “The opposite actually.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was a long time ago. We have more important things to do. How about ‘repartee?’” I tried to distract April while I considered how I’d get Cal back. And I would get him. He would pay.

  Wait, what the fuck am I talking about? We aren’t the Hatfields and McCoys; this wasn’t a freaking blood feud. I shouldn’t lose my cool again and act all… emotional like a person with feelings, a guy with a heart just waiting to get it broken.

  April didn’t spell the word. “I thought you guys were friends again. He seemed okay.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.” I sighed. I’d just have to stay away from him. The thought made me sad, but this trick gave me enough willpower to make it happen. He had no right to interfere with my education or lack thereof.

  April frowned. The bee provided a familiarity with multiple languages, but there was nothing I was more fluent in than April. The way she bit her lip, looked away, and wrung her hands together permeated through my maudlin thoughts about Cal. It wasn’t concern for me. Those were her guilty tells.

  I narrowed my eyes and leaned closer to her. “What did you do?”

  She tried to avoid the question. I waited her out since the chatterbox couldn’t handle too much silence. She broke, meeting my eyes meekly. “I thought Cal could help.”

  “April.” I leaned away from her, dragged a hand over my face.

  “I didn’t trust any of your other dumb friends,” she explained.

  “You had him call my school?” I asked, almost feeling dizzy from the shift of being so angry at Cal to feeling uncertain instead.

  She nodded. “Joey was going to do it if he could pretend to be dad. Or he wanted to wrangle an actual date with Mom out of the deal?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. It was gross.”

  “April, you shouldn’t have done this. You shouldn’t have dragged Cal into it.” I tried to keep my tone firm but not mean. Her little eyes welled up with tears anyway.

  “Don’t be mad at me or Cal. What’s so wrong with going to college? We’re just trying to help while you’re being so stupid,” she said defiantly while wiping at her eyes.

  “It’s my choice, April. Not yours.”

  “Not if you’re going to make the wrong one,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

  “Even then,” I insisted.

  “But you watch out for me, why can’t I do the same for you?” Oh shit. That took the fight right out of me.

  “You can’t go behind my back when it’s about my life.” I sighed. “If I’m being unreasonable, I don’t know, kick me in the shins next time or something. “

  “You’re not mad anymore?” she questioned hopefully, staring at me with wide, imploring eyes.

  “I’ll get over it.” She brightened, and I pointed a finger at her. “If we have a disagreement, we solve it together. Got it?

  She nodded.

  “You’re the one learning the fancy words, so let’s go with a compromise.” I couldn’t think about what I was saying too closely as I plowed forward.

  “Compromise?”

  “You back off.” She opened her mouth to respond, so I kept talking. “You back off,” I insisted, “And I will apply to some schools.” Her face lit up. “I’m only applying. I’m not making any promises.” I told her as much as I told myself. It didn’t have to be a big deal. It would be fine.

  “But—"

  “Except that I will consider it, if I get in. I’ll think about it.” My voice softened. “That’s the best I can do, kid.” Even doing that much felt nerve-wracking, but she clearly wasn’t going to give up... And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have options.

  She mulled it over. “I guess I’ll take it.”

  “Good, cause that’s all your getting.” She hugged me and I wrapped her in my arms for a second before playfully shoving her back into her seat. “Are you gonna spell the freaking word or what? Repartee.”

  She spelled it and stuck her tongue out at me.

  I laughed. “Real mature.”

  “I’m 11.”

  “Good point.”

  The phone interrupted our lesson, and when she came back to the table a few minutes later, I knew she was going to bail.

  “You need to focus,” I told her.

  “You also said I shouldn’t become obsessed with this or alienate my friends.” Dammit, she loved quoting me back to me to win arguments. “I’m going to Tinsley’s.” There was a sleepover. Maybe that was a more exciting Friday night plan.

  I was gonna let her go, but the name stopped me short. “You don’t even like Tinsley!”

  She sighed. I recognized it as her boys are so dumb sigh. “So?”

  “And she doesn’t like you,” I added suspiciously. Was this a trick? I wouldn’t let anyone play a cruel prank on my sister.

  “Tinsley wasn’t really inviting me, but Ellie’s spending the night, and she can’t say no to Ellie.” She took a deep breath as she started explaining. I was already sorry I asked. “Ellie’s annoyed because Tinsley’s being a butt.” She held her head high. “Tinsley’s older sister is 13. She likes me because I’m mature for my age.”

  “Uh…” I responded eloquently.

  “Her sister will let Ellie hang out with her if I’m there, which means we get to watch PG-13 movies and drive Tinsley crazy.”

  “That sounds like fun?” I tried.

  April nodded. “It will be for me and Ellie.”

  I took April to Tinsley’s and tried to follow along while she babbled about the complicated friendship hierarchy of preteen girls. She was insane.

  No wait. This could work. I could show up where I wasn’t wanted and have some fun myself. Cal’s friends crashed our bash earlier, so I could do the same. It was unlikely he’d let his guard down enough to grind on me in front of all his friends but with a couple drinks maybe he’d loosen up enough to sneak off with me.

  That was as much as I could think about. April probably cornered Cal at a club meeting, showed him her puppy dog eyes, and got him to help. He didn’t care one way or the other most likely. He didn’t help her because he liked me or believed in me or something dumb like that. Still, without the anger the lust was back, more powerful after being quashed down temporarily. I wanted to see him.

  ***

  Surfing social media quickly led me to the Friday night party for rich teens being hosted in some kid’s house whose parents were out of town or just didn’t give a fuck. The place was suitably fancy, probably ten times bigger and more expensive than where I lived. I half expected all the high schoolers here to be wearing blazers like at the prep school and be drinking sherry or something, but it was a normal party. A little less rowdy than my usual festivities and stupid pop songs were playing but still about the same.

  Everyone was dressed in preppy clothes: the guys in variations of the polo shirt Cal wore the first night we met again and the girls in Abercrombie and AE and whatever. I stood out in my black boots and leather jacket. The guys sneered at me while the girls seemed very happy I was there.

  I crossed the living room trying to spot a familiar blonde head when a group of girls stopped me. The one with lipstick just a few shades darker and clothes a bit sluttier seemed to be their leader. She looked me up and down before taking a drink from her red solo cup to cover her smirk. At least they were using red solo cups instead of crystal decanters or something.

  “Did someone hire a stripper?” she asked, tossing her dark blonde hair over her shoulder.

  The trick was not to show fear, so we had a silent stand-off while the girls tittered around us.

  “I’d say you couldn’t afford me,” I said slowly, then smiled. “But you probably can.”

  She laughed, nodding at me like I passed whatever test this was, but she put a hand with sharp red nails on my chest when I thought about moving past her.

  “Can we sample your wares bef
ore we decide to buy?”

  “I’m not that kind of boy.” If Cal wanted a lap dance or something… no. I wouldn’t do that for him, though he could definitely put on a show for me.

  She pouted and batted her eyes at me. “Surely you’ve got moves,” she coaxed. Her tone and demeanor were flirtatious, inviting. Her hand trailed across my chest to my arm. She squeezed my bicep, then dug into it a little with her nails; she was a girl who wasn’t used to not getting what she wanted.

  I smirked, staring at her impassively. My leather jacket blunted her sharp claws when she tried to dig them in further. Her eyes narrowed, reevaluating, then she smiled and gestured to one of her friends. A pretty brunette in a blue top who blushed and couldn’t meet my eyes. “My friend Katie’s been having a rough time. Are you sure you couldn’t cheer her up?”

  Katie’s hands fidgeted at her sides under my appraisal. The rest of the girls wore skirts while she wore jeans. Tight, form-fitting jeans, but still. It wasn’t easy to retain some originality in high school, especially when friends with the popular mean girl from every TV show and movie about teenagers.

  “What the matter, Katie?” I asked warmly.

  “She broke up with her boyfriend,” her friend supplied when Katie just shook her head and blushed more.

  Everyone in the group but Katie looked expectantly at me. Did they really think I was a stripper? “I’m not gonna take off my clothes,” I announced, and there was a series of groans. The crowd of girls dispersed as I stepped closer to Katie. “Wanna dance?”

  The brunette shook her head, but the blond vixen ‘accidentally’ pushed her towards me when moving away from us, so she gave in just to have her heavy stare off us. We moved closer to the makeshift dancefloor, her moves a little awkward at first, our knees knocking into each other, and the rhythm irregular as we swayed to the music. She had her arms around my shoulders while mine rested lightly near her sides. Her shoulders loosened and her body relaxed into mine eventually. We weren’t dancing too close but began to move together more easily.

  Katie felt comfortable enough to joke with me after a while. “None of the guys at this party need the money but I’m pretty sure they’d all strip naked if Alyssa asked them.”

  Yeah, I could imagine that. “If I put on a show, I want the recipient to enjoy it,” I told her gently.

  Her face reddened again but she met my eyes. “She’s nice,” Katie said. At my disbelieving look, she explained, “Well, she’s a good friend. She’s just pretty… intense.”

  We didn’t dance very long. Katie drifted away from the dance floor after a couple songs and leaned up against a wall with a sigh. I guessed that was all the energy she had for dancing. She didn’t seem to mind that I followed her.

  “So, your intense friend is why you’re at this party instead of crying into ice cream and watching some cheesy rom-com with your cat?” Never been there myself but I heard that’s what breakups were like.

  “Dog,” she corrected. “But right otherwise.” She considered me, then offered her hand. “We could be friends.”

  I shook it. “That could work.” I’d rather be friends with her than Alyssa. Totally not because she scared me. Besides, our personalities were such that we’d either conquer the world together or make each other completely miserable. “We’d never fight over guys.”

  She smiled like I made a joke. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Cause you’ll take the straight ones and I’ll take the rest,” I spelled out for her.

  “Oh!” She nodded unnecessarily, blinking at me a few times, but then seemed to accept it. “That could work.”

  Katie got me a drink and somehow convinced me to do that ridiculous thing where you drink with your arm linked with someone else’s before she kicked my ass in beer pong and was ready to dance again. Her company or the liquor suddenly made this night fun, perhaps a combination of both. Maybe this outing wasn’t a total waste even if Cal didn’t show up.

  I didn’t really dance unless I had the body of someone I was interested in pressed up against mine, so this was a new experience. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone and I wasn’t either, so we went crazy on the dance floor. Maybe I hated these people on principle and their taste in music sucked and I didn’t belong, but none of that mattered after a few drinks.

  I lost time, not being a delinquent or a hardass or lothario, just a guy dancing with a friend, focusing on nothing but the music and having fun, feeling my heart speed up as I moved to song after song. The alcohol filtering through my veins made everything bright and loud and electric, made me feel alive and awesome.

  The dance floor became packed as the song changed, and there were whoops of excitement as several ladies rushed to get their groove on. I’d never met Katie before tonight, but the alcohol and dancing had bonded us, making us feel like best friends for however long our buzzes lasted. We smiled goofily at being pressed closer together. I put my hands around her waist as she put one hand on my shoulder and the other on my chest.

  I’d taken off my leather jacket; I trusted that no one would be dumb enough to take it. Katie squeezed a bicep. “Very impressive,” she complimented me. I was surprised when she got even closer as she plastered her body against mine and her head was cradled in the dip of my shoulder. Did I need to remind her I was gay? I wasn’t drunk enough that I could pretend she was a guy and it’s not like she was blonde or toned in just the right way. Her eyes were green instead of blue. Wait, I didn’t always go for blue-eyed blondes. A flash of annoyance formed in my chest. I was mad at myself for something; I just didn’t have enough coherent brain cells at the moment to figure out what.

  Katie tilted her head toward mine, her lips brushing my ear. She whispered, “My ex just walked in.”

  Oh. I moved back for a second to smile mischievously at her. Who knew this shy, sweet girl had a mean streak? Maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol talking: we could totally be besties. I pressed one hand firmly into the small of her back, splaying my fingers wide to hopefully look possessive with my large hand on her smaller frame. My other hand dipped down to graze the swell of her ass. I pulled her closer and we grinded together, our hips working to the beat. She sent me a grateful smile, head nuzzling against mine a bit. I tried to look smoldering and sexy instead of smiling back. I liked her and didn’t have a problem helping her make her ex jealous.

  I didn’t quite remember why I was here in a house probably worth more than my entire apartment building. Maybe helping her earned me some good karma because the universe smiled on me. Cal, I remembered suddenly. He was why I came. He was here, his gaze focused on us, walking closer and looking extremely pissed off.

  ***

  Cal

  If I had gone to more parties, would Katie and I have still broken up? She often complained I should be more social; I never listened. I didn’t read between the lines when she said that. I think she meant I should spend more time with her. I should have made more of an effort. Then I’d still be dating my lovely girlfriend and Max… well, our night together wouldn’t have happened and I wouldn’t have to think about him so much.

  At least we’d straightened things out between us. Uh, so to speak. It didn’t mean I could stop thinking about him entirely, but I could try to put my life back together. I’d ‘run into’ Katie at a party tonight and set about fixing things between us.

  I put on jeans and a shirt Katie always liked and planned to put up with Alyssa being overprotective. We learned a term in our AP English class: the Angel-Whore Dichotomy. My gender sucked and even some of the greatest authors of all time could only write women that were pure and virtuous or evil temptresses, no in between. The term was critical, pointing out problems in literature, but I secretly thought it applied to Katie and Alyssa. I’d never said anything. Katie may be the angel in this scenario but even she would kill me for thinking that.

  I never got why they were friends. She was so nice and perfect while Alyssa was callous, shallow, and thrived on drama. Yet her and Katie had a
lways remained solid, no backstabbing or fights over boys or anything. Just such an odd combination, it would be like if I was friends with…

  No one. I was not thinking about him; tonight was about getting my lovely girlfriend back. It was just that me and him were opposites now. Maybe it was unlikely we could ever form a friendship, but our truce was a start, and Alyssa and Katie could do it. Unless we weren’t the kind of opposites that attracted but repelled each other. No, Max’s body wasn’t particularly repellant, quite the reverse. I didn’t have much of a chance to get to know his personality yet, but it seemed that he changed a lot. We got along when we were kids because we were the same, but we weren’t the same now. Surely that meant our connection was only physical?

  No, focus. Katie. I was here for Katie.

  I made my way through the crowd, smiling and chatting a bit, looking for Katie but trying to appear casual. What should I say? Play it cool: fancy meeting you here? Go for something suave and charming? I drew a blank on what that would be. Maybe I should go right to groveling and begging her to take me back: please, baby, I need you. Nothing makes sense without you. True. I definitely wouldn’t explain how things didn’t make sense. That a screw came loose in my brain after she dumped me and I thought it was a good idea to swap spit with another guy.

  All thoughts left my head as I spotted her on the dancefloor intertwined with someone else. Was I going to be some douchebag who got possessive about a girl who dumped him? No, we could be reasonable people, even if my fists clenched and I really wanted to punch someone, specifically the face of the guy with his hands on Katie’s ass. I took a deep breath, ready to walk away and talk to Katie later when she wasn’t dry humping some guy on the dancefloor.

  Fine, this was fine. I had a moment to get my talking points ready. Katie and I were a perfect fit: we had similar dreams and ambitions, and we had a lot in common. We were both from good families and generally had a nice time together. God, it’s like I was compiling reasons to buy a new car: dependable, reliable, economical. The list of reasons to date me wasn’t filled with passion and love; there were no bruising kisses, heavy petting, and windswept promises made in the pouring rain. That’s okay. We were logical, safe people. Not everything had to be strong emotions and grand declarations.