What Love Means

by F N Manning

  “Don’t do that,” he repeated, teasing gently. “I like you too.”

  I nodded. “We’re in agreement then.” This hadn’t been how I thought this conversation would go. Everything felt so uncertain right now, what the hell was going on? I didn’t know anything. Just that there was what my parents wanted and. And what? What did I want? To see him. Nothing more or less.

  “Cal, what’s going on with your family?”

  “Everything is fine, splendid, even.” That was reflexive to put on appearances. Max’s look said he didn’t believe me, and dammit, the whole honestly thing was a two-way street. “There may be a few disagreements about school and you, but—” Oh right, school. What I wanted wasn’t just as simple as Max. Why was it so easy to forget that? Was it a stupid, hormone addled brain or did that really signify how important I classified him as?

  I didn’t have time to figure that out. He cut into my thoughts. “Cal, you don’t need to do anything stupid just for me.”

  “I’m not, I’m,” I paused. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Max nodded and touched my hand gently. “You should probably tell them we broke up.” When he saw whatever expression was on my face, he added quickly, “We don’t really have to.”

  That made a certain amount of sense. It bought time, perhaps it would more or less make things how they were before. Still… “You think lying is the right solution?”

  “I have no idea.” He laughed and it sounded a little hysterical. Weirdly, that calmed me. At least I wasn’t freaking out alone. “You have to go college, Cal.” He looked at me seriously and said, deadpan, “You have no other skills.”

  The moment was too heavy. That broke it and we burst out laughing.

  “It’s not like you’re wrong,” I admitted with a chuckle.

  He sobered. “Oh, don’t do that.” He looked around at the high school campus and then shrugged like he was saying ‘fuck it’ as he took my hand. We were past the point of pretending at this point, but it was still sweet since he obviously didn’t care about PDA with another man but knew I might.

  “I don’t want to compliment you,” he told me. I didn’t say anything to that. “Ugh. You’re talented and smart and blah blah blah.” I snorted, more at his Max way of phrasing compliments than anything else, but maybe he thought I didn’t take his words seriously. He continued, “You put thought into whatever you do, and there’s probably a million uses for a detail-oriented perfectionist with a 10.7 GPA.

  A few moments ago, smiling seemed impossible and now not smiling was a challenge, even as I lightly argued, “You know that’s not a real GPA.”

  “If anyone has a GPA that high, it would be you.” He pecked my lips lightly and then stayed close, holding me in his arms. It was the comfort I needed desperately. The calm I felt in his presence didn’t last the rest of the day, but the persistent dread I’d been feeling earlier was at least kept partially at bay.

  I didn’t know what good drawing out our relationship would do. I just couldn’t imagine being without him. That seemed like too much. It was too crazy. Then I felt crazy for thinking our relationship was that important. But maybe it was supposed to be? Because I liked him, a lot, and it wasn’t like Katie where my significant other was an afterthought. That meant he was important. I wanted to be rational. I couldn’t let go of something so important without more thought. Without a fight. Could I? That was logical, it made sense, right? Either way, it didn’t make things clearer. I had no viable choice. My father’s disapproval was as firm as my need to stay with Max.

  ***

  Max

  I never did serious until Cal. Maybe that word wasn’t good enough. Being monogamous, agreeing to see only person and date them, yeah, that all classified as serious. But it was a different kind of serious than what was happening now. Cal faced falling in line or not going to college. That’s what was serious.

  I wanted to pull the escape cord. I wanted to never let him go. Insecurity wasn’t a good look on me, but it was hard. No way Cal could choose me over them, no way he should. Yet here I was still in it, ready to get my heart ripped out. It was only a matter of time. I should have cut my losses, told him no hard feelings, and went on my way. It had been just the two of us outside on that big campus and he just looked so small and sad. He hadn’t ended things with me and I’d suddenly been unwilling to do it for him.

  Instead of a quick and clean break, we opted for messy heartache. Was that too pessimistic? I didn’t have much optimism left. All my thoughts ranged towards the uncharitable right now as I sat stiffly at a table across from April and my mom.

  I used to protest that Chipotle was overpriced fake Mexican food for yuppies. I still thought that, just quietly, because I wasn’t about to complain if someone wanted to buy me a 10-dollar burrito. Mom splurged, deciding we needed good food to make this conversation easier. I didn’t want to have this conversation at all and not just because I hated serious conversations.

  Humans were jut gluttons for punishment, weren’t we? First me and Cal, now this. Drawing out our family drama. Mom and I had a disagreement. She won out. Instead of keeping her out of it, mom was throwing April in. Or as she put it, April had a ‘right to know’ and could ‘decide for herself.’ Whatever. Just because that sounded sensible didn’t mean it was. She was only 11. Sure, she bounced back fast but that was after a spelling bee. Losing a father was different. I knew because I’d experienced both.

  April’s hands rested on the shiny silver table, not touching her meal at first. By the time mom explained everything, April had tucked into her meal and her legs were kicking under her chair. Mom sent me a smug look. April was quieter than usual, but she had a lot to think about it. I wanted to be petulant, but it’s not like I’d complain about April taking it well.

  I couldn’t really understand how she could handle it so easily, but I didn’t want to question it either. When the mood got a bit tense, I told her how I ‘came out’ or whatever to dad. She laughed and called me an idiot. Yeah, she’d be fine. Kids just bounced back fast. Or was I just super emotionally stunted? No, I’d go with the first one. Besides, I had a right to be mad at him. If April wasn’t going to exercise that option, I’d be mad for the both of us.

  “Do I get to tell him I’m gay too?” April questioned.

  “You aren’t anything yet,” Mom replied promptly.

  April rolled her eyes but didn’t contradict the statement. “Can I tell him I lost the spelling bee? I want a shocking reveal too!”

  Mom seemed to debate an answer. “You do want to see him?” My sister pondered that while mom sent me a look. I nodded. It would be my turn later for the affirmation mom glossed over.

  Mom and I had no idea what April was when it came to her orientation. She had mentioned more than once that she wanted to be a lesbian but that wasn’t the same as being one. She’d never admitted to having a crush to either of us. Well, no. She had done that, but she’d never done more than that by going into detail about the person or even their gender. I guess there were some things that were too mortifying to share with your big brother.

  We eventually realized that maybe April didn’t even know what she was. Our position became that she didn’t have to be anything and didn’t need a label. She could have one if she wanted, and it was okay to try them, to switch them, whatever. April didn’t have to be anything until she was ready, and whatever she decided, we were on board and would always be on board.

  April could like whoever she wanted. However, I really hoped it wasn’t Tinsley. Oh god, that would make a certain kind of sense. Was Tinsley her Cal? “Do you have a crush on Tinsley?” I asked out of nowhere.

  She wrinkled her nose. “No. We’re barely even friends.”

  “That’s… some people like that.” I shrugged and looked down at my food “Opposites attract or whatever.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Have we not already established that I’m better than you in every way?

  I laughed. “You’re
right, we have. My bad.”

  “If we could get back on track,” Mom cut in, laughing quietly at me. I finished my burrito and threw the crumpled tinfoil ball at her.

  “I don’t know if dad would take that very well,” I admitted, thinking of April’s non-sexuality.

  Mom narrowed her eyes. “You said he didn’t freak out about you.”

  “He was weird about it when I was younger,” I explained. Did she not remember? Unfortunately, I did and could remind her.

  Mom didn’t challenge my words but said, “Maybe he changed.”

  “I’m just not sure he’d get it,” I responded a bit sharply. So what if he said he was alright with it now? We already knew he could be an asshole about this. We were just going to hope what he said was true and trust him with April?

  “You don’t know if you don’t give him a chance,” mom argued. It sounded like there was more in her tone, the judgement that I didn’t give people many chances. It wasn’t just fear of being burned again that made me weary, was it? Trusting the guy that left us once with an 11-year-old’s heart sounded like such a bad plan.

  “I’m not saying people can’t change, but what are the odds he really has?" Could people change? My gut said no but was that accurate or just my perception?

  April cut in. “I’m the one who gets to decide, right?”

  “For you,” I added. She had her intrusive moment with my college applications. I would somehow find a way to respect whatever April decided. I hoped she’d learned that lesson.

  My sister loved being a bossy little know-it-all, but she didn’t even pout, just looked at me like I was dumb. “Obviously.” So, some people could change, but she was young. Or. I don’t know. I didn’t think people could change. I had no idea with dad, though my instincts went towards probably not. But when it came to me and Cal… Maybe I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to be believe it was possible. He could stand up to his parents, I could trust him, and we would live happily ever after. Yeah, it didn’t sound likely. I still hoped.

  “You’ve both made some good points,” April said diplomatically. “But I want to figure this out on my own. If that’s okay?”

  Mom and I stared at each other for a few tense moments. We both sighed. She nodded to April as we both slumped in our seats. “Do you have a fake ID?” Mom asked me. “I will be very mad at you for that later, but I think we both need margaritas now.”

  I laughed tiredly. Feelings were exhausting. No wonder I avoided them for so long.

  ***

  Cal

  Nothing made sense anymore, so I didn’t hesitate to ask Katie to speak with me. A few days had passed, but I had no more clarity about the situation. Sure, asking my ex-girlfriend about my current boyfriend seemed and felt crazy, but what did that even mean when my life was so upside down?

  We stood together in the hallway by a window during our lunch period. It was easy to look outside instead of staring at her. I didn’t tell her the whole story. I wanted to giggle manically as Katie puzzled through what I’d told her. It might take a minute, seeing as I’d explained in vague hypotheticals. I couldn’t imagine telling her everything even if we were in a more secure location.

  My parents knew but that meant, what? I should be able to tell everyone? No, my reluctance wasn’t really about that. She was the only person I could think of to talk to, and I couldn’t tell her the whole truth because she would get too caught up in the guy part to help. It wasn’t an orientation thing; it was an ex-girlfriend thing. Good, it was good to have a problem that didn’t relate to my sexuality.

  “Cal, what did you do?” She put one hand on her hip. “Are you on drugs?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment. “Please don’t guess.”

  “Did you get someone pregnant?” She guessed anyway. “Did you get me pregnant?”

  I smiled faintly at her attempted humor. “No, it’s not anything bad.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “But you can’t tell me and your parents think it’s terrible,” she summarized.

  “Well,” I pondered, “They think lots of things are terrible. Like showing up to a dinner party without a gift for the host or wearing white after Labor Day.”

  She latched onto that. “Okay, so you want to ‘wear white after Labor Day,’” she did obnoxious finger quotes to ensure I knew that she knew that wasn’t really what we were talking about “And they found out. Then they said that if you wear white after Labor Day, they won’t pay for school?”

  “Exactly.” Except with more forbidden gay romance.

  “Well, it’s obvious, Cal.” Oh, was it now? I used to think Katie could do wrong, but her arrogance grated. “God, how do you get better grades than me?”

  “Because Alyssa forces you to have a social life,” I said without thinking. “Commit or settle for less, March.” Wait, she was helping me. “I mean, uh—"

  She raised her chin and smiled magnanimously. “I’ll let that slide since it’s obvious you’re under a strain.” She considered me. “I’m a little worried you’re having a nervous breakdown.”

  So what? Like she would be so calm and collected if her future were in jeopardy. “Does your arm tingle for that too or is that just a heart attack?” I asked mildly.

  “A heart attack?” She laughed. “Whatever it is can’t be that bad. God Cal, relax.”

  I laughed without humor. She always said that when we were together. Relax. As if it was ever that simple. Like there was some switch inside me labeled ‘relax’ and once prompted I could just switch it on and be calm. Oh, relax? Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of that before? I reminded myself again that she was helping me. “That’s not actually the advice I came to you for.”

  “You should take that advice anyway,” she said but thankfully moved on. “Maybe good news will make it easier to calm down. You’ve stumbled onto some leverage.” At my frown, she continued, “Well, your dad likes negotiations. Leverage wearing white after Labor Day and Stanford.”

  I thought girls were stereotypically the good listeners. “What? No, it’s Princeton they—"

  “Yeah, I know,” she interrupted. “Tell them you’ll give up your, uh, fashion choices, if they agree you can attend Stanford. Or say you’ll forgo Stanford if you get to keep…” she trailed off, staring at me to supply the real answer.

  “Wearing white after Labor Day,” I filled in.

  “Right,” she responded with an eyeroll.

  “Why can’t I have both?” That wasn’t possible, was it? At some point, I’d have to give up Max. It all led back to that, didn’t it? What did my reluctance to so mean? Okay, I knew what it meant. I suppose I wondered whether I could listen to my reluctance. Should I pay attention to my hesitance and fight for Max, for us?

  “If we draw things out to their worst-case scenarios,” Katie explained, thinking about it as she went, “Getting both would mean… going nuclear. You’d have to pay for school yourself and then be free to do what you wanted. Or call their bluff and be okay not going.”

  Oh god, oh god. “Oh god.” That was a terrible plan. I couldn’t pretend to be fine with not going to school to get Max. “What if I did that and they don’t budge?”

  “That’s what I meant by going nuclear,” she said quietly. “If you don’t give in, you’d have to stick with it. Even if it meant…” she trailed off. No school, my mind supplied helpfully. Even if it meant no school. The idea still wasn’t one I could wrap my mind around, much less consider. Going on to college was just what rich prep school kids did; our school had a ridiculous matriculation rate. Like 95% of students went on to higher education, and I’d always kinda assumed the other five percent was a statistical error.

  Katie smiled softly and spoke, cutting into my thoughts. “Hey, I’m proud of you.”

  “For what?” I laughed, actually pulling at the tie around my neck as if that would help me breathe easier. It was the metaphorical noose, not a physical presence, that made my throat tight. “My pathetic resistance? It’s probably onl
y making my father angrier.”

  Her voice sounded optimistic, but I didn’t share the sentiment. “You’re standing up to him. He’s probably proud of you too. He just won’t ever say it.”

  “I think he’s too furious.” Proud of me? No, I couldn’t see that at all. “He never imagined… my intense fashion choices.”

  “Well, screw him,” Katie insisted. “You’re doing great.”

  Was I? It felt like the opposite.

  ***

  Max

  I almost skipped chemistry but decided not to. It was my last class of the day. It beat sitting around and obsessing over my relationship. I walked through the halls towards the exit after class and stopped when I saw someone who didn’t belong here. “Are you just going to start showing up everywhere?” I wouldn’t have run into dad if I’d just skipped. See, nothing good came from being a model student.

  “It’s been a while since I picked you up from school,” he joked. We stood in the hall together, unsure and awkward. His hands fidgeted in front of him while I leaned against a locker.

  “I can do that on my own now.” Was he gonna start stalking me now? Could your own dad stalk you? I never told him to get lost permanently. I pretended that I was just seeing how long he would stick around this time and not that I’d be sad if he really did drop off the face of the planet again. Who knew what I’d be? Having him in my life seemed just as bad as him being gone but at least I had more control if he was around. I could tell him I hated him and yell at him; I could do something with my anger. That was better than festering feelings about a guy I couldn’t get ahold of.

  I showed more restraint than I knew I possessed by not yelling at him yet. No, that was a lie. Once I yelled and screamed and showed emotion, that was it. That meant I cared and it made this thing permanent. Until he left again. But if he didn’t, then what, he was just back in my life all the time? Yeah, I couldn’t handle that either.

  “Had to drop by some fanta stuff,” He told me. “Fapsa?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Some bullshit so they’ll give you college money.”