by Andrea Ring
“You fucking coward,” I say.
***
I get home by ten and check on Dad and Bea. Both are sound asleep.
I think about the bonfire, my friends, and how I ever fit in with them. I wasted so many hours playing in the drama of high school. I would never minimize what T’s going through, but the rest of it…it seems so far removed from my life now.
I think of Jay’s face, that handsome face, Emily clinging to him like a monkey on a tree, and I wonder how I ever thought I wanted him. That we fit together, belonged together. I don’t respect the person that he is, mostly because he doesn’t respect others and thinks the world revolves around him. Why did it take me so long to see that?
I think it took Clark, a real connection with someone, to make me realize what I didn’t have with Jay. If Clark hadn’t come along, would I still long for Jay? Would I be back together with him? I hope not. I hope that even if I were single, I would have had the courage to stay away from him.
Damaged relationships can’t always be fixed, especially not when the people in them refuse to change, or refuse even to recognize the need for change.
Bea is counting on me. I have to be here for her, and I can’t let anyone or anything distract me from that fact. I’m so very lucky that Clark understands and supports that.
I lie in bed, thinking back on all the momentous decisions I’ve made in the past couple of months.
I still have regrets over things I’ve done in the past, but I’m at peace with the things I’ve done recently. As long as I continue down this path, I’ll be okay.
And I finally fall into a deep and contented sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I wake up dreading the day ahead.
Not that my parents ever made a big deal out of my birthday, at least not that I can remember. Usually, they let me spend it with my friends. I never had a traditional birthday party. My parents would have me invite a couple of people, and then they’d drop us off at the movies or Disneyland or the mall. I don’t think we’ve ever spent any real time together as a family on my birthday.
Frankly, I’m not sure they’ll even remember it this year. I can’t imagine my mother dragging herself out of bed just to call and acknowledge the day I was brought into her world.
I hustle through my shower, grab Bea from her crib, and change her diaper and clothes. I steel myself for what surely won’t come, and carry Bea out to the kitchen.
No dad.
I glance out the window to the driveway.
No car.
Guess I was right.
***
Angela Sandino arrives at 7:00, but since she’s got her 94-year-old father-in-law in tow, it’s 7:20 before they’re settled in the house.
The Sandinos have been in the neighborhood longer than we have, and Angela and her husband recently moved back in with his father to take care of him. They can use the extra money, and they’re the sweetest people in the world, so I feel lucky to have convinced Angela to help out with Bea.
But it still takes some wrangling.
“We have a 4:30 doctor’s appointment,” Angela says, “and your dad said on the phone last night that someone will be home by four.”
Someone means me. Guess Dad forgot about my tennis practice, oh, and my birthday.
“I’ll be home by three,” I say.
“Boy,” old man Sandino says from his perch in the recliner, “I thought Eleanor was older. Didn’t she lose a tooth?”
Angela smiles at me as she follows me to the door.
“That’s not Eleanor, Dad,” she yells. “That’s Bea.”
“I’m lookin’ right at her, Angie, and it’s Eleanor, I tell you. But Eleanor, I thought she was seven by now.”
“Eleanor’s right here, Dad. That’s Bea, her little sister.”
“Eleanor doesn’t have no sister. She has a brother.”
“I’m sorry,” she says to me.
“Don’t be. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
***
It’s a better day once I get to school. Gabi and Anita give me an iTunes gift card and decorate my locker with streamers and balloons. Baby T gives me a sunflower that’s as big as my head. As much as I love it, I feel silly carrying it around and attracting attention, so at break, I head to the parking lot to put it in my car.
Two rows away, Jay is pulling off his jacket and stuffing it through the window of his Jeep. He sees me before I reach my car and joins me.
“What’s the occasion?” he asks.
I feel a twinge in my stomach that he doesn’t remember, but why should he?
“My birthday.”
“Oh.” At least he looks embarrassed. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“So are you coming to the beach tonight, to celebrate?”
I squint at him. “I thought you wanted me gone from the group.”
Jay ducks his head. “It’s not like that. It’s just…I thought you were there to start something with Baby T and make trouble.”
“Since when do I make trouble?” I say, putting my hands on my hips.
Jay sighs. “Poor choice of words,” he says. “But you have to admit, drama follows you. There’s always some crisis when you’re around, some big thing. It’s hard to deal with.”
I want to argue with him, but I force myself to take a deep breath. I may not be responsible for all the shit that surrounds me, but he’s kind of right.
“Yeah,” I say. “Anyway, I appreciate the invite, but I have to babysit, and then I have plans with Clark.”
“You have to babysit on your birthday?” He ignores the bit about Clark.
I laugh. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Sucky, is more like it,” Jay says with a smile.
I unlock my car, put the sunflower on the passenger seat, and close the door.
We walk back into school in silence, until we hit the path where we go in opposite directions.
“See you,” I say, turning to go.
“Hey, Leni.”
I turn back.
“Have a happy birthday, okay?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
All last week, Clark asked me repeatedly what I wanted to do for my birthday. I couldn’t come up with a single thing, except that I knew I wanted to spend it with him.
“How about we just go out to dinner?” I finally said, throwing out the easy option. “I’m in the mood for Haven’s mac ’n cheese.”
“Would you mind if I invited some people?” he asked me, too casually. I’ve found that with Clark, when he really cares about something, he often pretends that he doesn’t care at all.
“Not at all,” I said, even though the thought of meeting his friends made me sick to my stomach. “Anyone I know?”
“You will soon,” he said. “And by the way, your gift’s not ready yet, but be patient. It should be finished any day now.”
I smiled at that. Just knowing he put some thought into a gift, for me, was enough.
I hadn’t talked to Dad all day, and didn’t know his plans, but Linda agreed to watch Bea if Dad didn’t turn up. She was actually disappointed when I called her to say that my father was indeed at home for the evening. I laughed and assured her that if she were up for it, I was sure there would be plenty of babysitting opportunities in the future.
So Haven Gastro Pub it is, for a seven o’clock birthday dinner with Clark’s friends. I seriously want to throw up.
To make matters worse, we’re twenty minutes late because Bea won’t stop crying and Dad begs me not to go until she is under control. And when we finally slip out the door, he runs back out and hands me a $100 bill. I waste another five minutes having an awkward one-sided conversation where Dad makes excuses for forgetting my birthday. In the end, I pocket the money and put Dad out of mind.
I have enough to worry about.
I pester him, but Clark is tight-lipped about his friends. He says he wants my impression of them without any bias from him.
“Does that mean you haven’t told them anything about me?” I ask him on the drive over.
He just smiles.
Clark’s friends have already secured a table. As we walk up to the restaurant, a tall skinny guy hops over the railing of the patio and jumps on Clark, pounding his back.
“You think you can set this thing up and make us wait?” His voice is high, higher than mine.
They wrestle for a second, laughing, then end with a complicated handshake and a short man-hug.
“Always making us wait,” the guy says again.
“You know,” Clark says, patting the side of his mohawk. “Have to look beautiful for you.”
The guy slings an arm around Clark’s shoulders.
“And you know I appreciate it.”
Clark looks over at me and grabs my hand. “Leni, this is Jess. Jess, Leni.”
Jess bows and shakes my hand. “Happy birthday. It is a pleasure.”
“Thanks,” I say. “For me, too.”
Jess untangles himself from Clark and puts his arm over my shoulders. “What is so fine a lady doing with this rabble? Clark is a cad. Run away with me.”
I smile. “I’m thinking since you’re gay, it would be a short run.”
Jess laughs out loud. “What gave me away?”
Clark punches his arm. “The voice, the scarf, the rings. The word cad. No man says cad.”
Jess just shakes his head. “Come on, Leni, my perceptive little butterfly. Everyone’s awaiting your arrival.”
I take a deep breath and let Jess lead me to the table.
There are three others—Lucas and Tam, a couple, and Jess’s other half, Mason. They are all friendly, and as Clark and I take our seats, I start to relax.
“So this is weird, right?” Lucas says. “Clark with a girl.”
His girlfriend Tam slaps his arm. “Shut up, Lucas.”
He tries to look contrite, but he’s smiling.
Clark smiles back. “Not weird,” he says, looking at me. “But not normal.”
“You’ve never brought a girl around your friends?” I ask him.
“Not these friends.”
“So how do you know each other?”
“We’re all in the philosophy department,” Jess says, waving a flamboyant hand. “Are you at UCLA, too?”
I glance at Clark. I knew that he didn’t tell them anything about me, but the question still throws me off.
“No, I…I’m still in high school.”
Everyone blinks at me.
“How old are you?” Lucas asks.
“Eighteen.”
All eyes shift to Clark, but he seems unaffected.
“Yeah, boy!” Lucas shouts, reaching out to give Clark a high five, but Tam pulls his arm down.
The mood chills, but Jess tries to get us past it.
“So high school,” he says, seemingly lost in thought. “It wasn’t that long ago. Buck up, chaps. Tell us how you met, Leni.”
I bite my lip. Clark rubs his hand over my back.
“I’m writing a thesis on moral philosophy, on universal morality, actually. Clark’s aunt teaches my class, so she suggested we meet.”
Lucas guffaws. “Your aunt set you up?”
“She set up the introduction,” Clark says, “but the rest was up to us.”
“I’ll bet it was up to Leni,” Lucas says, smirking. “Am I right? Remember that one girl, Christina? Man, she was a hottie, and all over you, Clark. I didn’t think you could find your dick—”
Tam slaps a hand over his mouth. “Please shut up. You’re embarrassing me.”
I laugh and raise an eyebrow at Clark. Then I turn back to Lucas.
“Clark definitely started things,” I tell him. “He was flirting with me ten minutes after we’d met.”
Jess gasps. “Clark? Our Clark? Flirting?” He actually pouts. “You’ve never flirted with me.”
“‘Cause Mason would have taken me out,” Clark says.
Jess smiles. “Good answer.”
Tam sits forward. “So he flirted, huh? This is a side of Clark we’ve never seen. Tell us what he said.”
Clark and I exchange a smile. “He alluded to the fact that he was player, telling me how his aunt warned him not to seduce me.”
“Classic,” Lucas says.
“And then he insisted we get personal, get to know each other. When I asked him if he had a Prince Albert, he wouldn’t tell me. He just said his aunt would kill him if he answered that question.”
The whole table laughs, except Jess, who eyes Clark speculatively.
“I want the answer to that question right now,” Jess says.
Clark laughs. “Nope. Only Leni knows the answer, and that’s the way it’s gonna stay.”
“Enough,” Tam says. “Enough about sex. I want to hear the good stuff. The romance. Tell us about your first kiss.”
I’m embarrassed by the question. I can imagine Gabi and Baby T asking it, but not with any of the guys around.
Clark bumps my shoulder. “You tell it.”
I shake my head. “No, you.”
“Uh, huh,” Clark says. “I want to hear how you tell it.”
“Well,” I say, drawing a breath, “I’d just asked Clark if he’d go with me to Winter Formal.”
Lucas laughs, but Tam punches his arm and he closes his mouth, continuing to chuckle tight-lipped.
Jess whips out his hand. “Show me a picture. This I have to see.”
I just gave the pictures to Clark a couple days ago, but I don’t expect him to have them on him.
“I don’t have them with me,” I say, but Clark has already stood up. He fishes in his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He pulls two pictures out and hands them to Jess.
“Oh, good Lord,” he says with a smile. He passes the pictures around the table. “Mason, look at him. Look at him! In a tuxedo, Armani, I’m sure of it. I didn’t think he could get any more handsome. And Leni, you look like a model!” He sniffs loudly. “Our boy is finally growing up.”
“I have to admit,” Tam says, “you look like you belong together, so comfortable you’re like one person. All my prom pictures look like I’ve got a stick up my butt.”
“That’s okay, baby,” Lucas says, patting her arm. “I took the stick out. No harm done.”
Tam ignores him and smiles at me. “So continue. Kiss.”
I take a breath. “And so I’d just asked him to the dance, and out of the blue, he pulls me up out of my chair and against his chest.” I glance at Clark and hold his gaze. “He’s always got all these clothes on, like his leather jacket, and I had no idea what was underneath it. We’d hugged one time before, but I hadn’t been paying attention then. But I felt him at that moment. The lean strength, the coiled tension…and his scent. It tightened every muscle in my body. He smells like…”
“Sex?” Jess whispers.
I shake my head. “Like sin. Like glorious, up-against-a-wall, body-slam sin. It was a great kiss.”
Jess turns to Mason and gives him a deep, toe-curling kiss.
Lucas clears his throat and locks gazes with Tam.
Tam shudders.
“God,” she says on a sigh. “That’s…I’ve never heard anything like that. Are you for real?”
I smile. “A bit dramatic, but I can’t help it. That’s how Clark makes me feel.”
Clark leans over and nips at my neck. “You need to talk more often,” he whispers.
“Why don’t you kiss me like that?” Lucas asks Tam. She rolls her eyes.
Mason leans forward, catching my attention. He’s wearing a navy v-neck sweater and black rectangular-frame glasses, and while not classically handsome, his strong jaw and deep-set eyes scream compelling masculinity. The complete opposite of Jess. Speaking for the first time, he says, “Leni, do you believe there are universal truths?”
“I do,” I say. “The sanctity of human life, for one.”
“No support for the cannibals, huh?” Lucas says.
I smil
e. “I still believe a person can die willingly, for a greater cause. I suppose some sacrificial victims must have gone willingly.”
“What about for a personal cause?” Tam asks. “Is it moral to die because you’re suffering?”
“It’s sort of a religious question, isn’t it?” Jess says. “If you believe God is the only one who should be able to end life, then no. You can’t die to end your own suffering.”
“Is that where you’d draw the line, then?” I ask him. “God decides what is moral?”
We spend thirty minutes on this topic, everyone participating, no one in full agreement. As we wave our waiter off a second time, too deep in discussion to worry about ordering, I glance at Clark. He’s staring at me with complete adoration. Love, even.
“So what’s your favorite argument for the existence of God?” Tam asks the table. “I like Pascal’s Wager. What do you think, Leni?”
“I know who Pascal is, but I don’t know about the Wager.”
Clark turns to me. “There are two options: either God exists or He doesn’t. If you believe in Him and He exists, the rewards are infinite—eternal life. If you believe in Him and He doesn’t exist, no harm done. You may feel like a fool, but there’s no penalty. Now let’s say you don’t believe in Him, and there is no God. Again, no harm done, you get to brag to your friends that you were right.”
“Except that everyone’s dead and gone,” I say, and he smiles.
“Yep. But what if you don’t believe in God, and He does exist? Big problem. Eternal damnation.”
“It’s clever,” I say, “but you’re assuming too much about God, who’s unknown to begin with. What if other gods exist and they’re jealous of your belief in the God? They could harm you. What if God is secretive and doesn’t really want us to believe in Him?”
Jess and Lucas laugh, Mason smiles, and Tam just shakes her head. “You’ve found yourself a little philosopher, Clark,” she says.
It’s a slightly condescending comment, but the way Tam’s smiling at me, I don’t think she meant it to hurt me.
“Leni’s amazing,” Clark says. “Glad you figured that out.”
“You wouldn’t be with her otherwise,” Mason says, and Clark smiles at him.
“Too true,” Jess says. “She’s a doll. You’re a doll! So where are you going to go to school?”