"Why? So you can sit in your room feeling sorry for yourself?"
I yank my hand from his. "I don't feel sorry for myself! You don't know what you're talking about. You have no idea what I'm going through, and you never will, because it's not happening to you. Nobody understands this. Not Stella. Not my parents. Not the doctors. So for you to accuse me of feeling sorry for myself makes you..." I struggle for the words, "I don't know what it makes you...an idiot for one. And also arrogant. And an asshole!"
He laughs.
I narrow my eyes at him. "You think that's funny? Really?"
"I've never been called any of those things so yeah, it's kind of funny. I kind of feel like a bad boy now."
"This isn't funny," I say, swatting his arm.
He gets serious again. "You're right in that I don't know what you're going through, but I do know that going through it alone isn't what you want. I saw how sad you were when we first met. You hardly smiled, but when you did, it was beautiful and I wanted to see it again. So I tried to make that happen and whatever I did worked because you've smiled a lot more since that day we met. And maybe I am a..." he grins, "arrogant asshole for saying this, but I think you're happier having me in your life than you were before I showed up. In fact, you said it yourself. You said I make you happy."
"Whatever," I mutter, annoyed he's using my words to prove his point. This wasn't supposed to go this way. He wasn't supposed to fight to keep me. I was ready to end things between us and now I don't know what to do.
"So..." He leans over and kisses my cheek. "I say we go grab a snack then maybe go to the amphitheater. There's a band playing there that I wanted to check out. After that, we can get some dinner and maybe see if Stella and Sam want to meet to hang out."
I don't know what to say. He's acting like we're just going to continue on like normal. I don't know if I can do that. Despite what he said, I don't trust he's going to stick around. I still think he'll change his mind once he gives this some thought.
"I'll go with you as a friend," I say, "but nothing more."
"Why? You suddenly decided you don't like me that way?"
"No. I just want you to think about this."
"I don't need to think about it. I told you, this doesn't change anything. So unless you decide to break up with me, we're still going to be a couple." He starts pedaling. "I'm thinking tacos for a snack. Or I could do pizza. What do you think?"
"Pizza's kind of a lot for a snack."
"Then we'll get tacos. Or nachos. Nachos sound good."
I give up trying to end this date and just go with it. This is not at all how I thought things would go when I told him about my eyes. I still think he'll change his mind and want to end things, but for now I guess we'll keep going out.
And so our date continues, and as the night goes on Wes has me laughing and smiling and feeling happy again. I don't know how he did that but he did.
Stupid Wes. If he keeps this up, he's going to make me fall in love with him.
Chapter Twenty-One
After dinner as we're waiting for the check, Wes gets a text. He holds his phone up. "I need to go make a call."
"To your dad?"
"No. It's about work. I'm doing some online ads for the game and the design is due first thing Monday. I need to get back to her with my changes."
Her? Does he mean his ex? I shouldn't ask. It's none of my business, although I'm a little annoyed she's texting him on a Friday night. Couldn't she wait until tomorrow morning? Why is she even home tonight? I thought she was dating someone. It's date night. She should be on a date.
While he's outside making his call, I check my phone and see a text from Stella.
How's your date going?
Good, I text back.
Are you still out?
She's asking because it's after eight and dark outside. I hadn't planned to be out this late but the concert at the amphitheater turned out to be really fun so we stayed there for hours.
Yeah, I text. We just finished dinner. I hesitate, then text, I told him.
My phone rings. I see it's Stella and answer. "Hey."
"You told him?" Stella says so loud I'm sure the people at the table next to me heard.
"I can't talk now."
"Why? Is Wes sitting there?"
"No, he's outside talking to..." I don't want to tell her Wes is talking to his ex or Stella will question why his ex is calling on a Friday night and then we'll both convince ourselves something's going on there. Besides, maybe he's not talking to his ex. Maybe it's someone else. "He had to deal with some ads that are coming out next week."
"On a Friday night?"
"Yeah, and he'll be back any minute so I can't talk now. Plus, I'm sitting in the restaurant so—"
"You really told him?"
"I didn't plan to. We were on a paddleboat on the lake and he started asking me all these questions about my eyes. He knew there was something wrong with them so I just told him the truth."
"And? What did he say?"
"That it doesn't matter."
"I told you!" she yells into the phone. "I knew he wouldn't break up with you over that."
"He still might."
"He won't. The guy's crazy about you."
"Then maybe I'll be the one to end things."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I don't want him pitying me. If he starts treating me differently now that he knows this, I'm not going to keep going out with him."
"That's not fair, Luna. You can't punish him for not knowing how to act. Trust me, I've already been through this."
"Through what?"
"Having to figure out what I can and can't say to you and how I should treat you. It's not easy, Luna. People don't know how to react when they find out you might lose your vision."
"You mean when I lose my vision. It's going to happen. We just don't know when."
"You see what I mean? I've known about this for over a year and I'm still not saying what you want me to say. So you can't expect Wes to. Or your mom. Or anyone else."
"I know," I say, glancing out the window at Wes. Stella's right. I can't expect him to know what to say or how to act. We just have to take a day at a time, and if issues come up, we'll deal with them then. So far, tonight has gone really well. He's acting like he always does, not treating me any differently. He hasn't even asked me about my eyes since we left the boat.
"Wes is a great guy," Stella says. "Don't go looking for excuses to end this when everything's going so well."
"I'm not looking for excuses."
"Maybe not tonight, but you might in the future. I know you, Luna, and I know when you get scared you try to find a way out."
"I'm not scared. Why would I be scared of dating Wes?"
"You're scared of getting hurt, so if you two keep getting closer, you'll look for excuses to break up with him."
"That's not true."
"Guess we'll find out. Hey, I need to go find Sam. He went to help his dad with something but if he doesn't hurry, we're going to be late for the movie. It starts at nine. You guys want to meet us there?"
"Stella, you know I don't go to the movies."
"You went with Wes."
"That was an exception. Now that Wes knows the truth, I don't plan to be going to the movies again. It was so dark in there and it took forever for my eyes to adjust."
"But you're still coming tomorrow, right? To the ice rink?"
"Yeah, we'll be there." I see Wes walking in. "I have to go."
"Okay, bye!"
"Did you get everything worked out?" I ask Wes as he gets his wallet out to pay the bill.
"I think so. She'll work on it and send me a new version later tonight."
"You should give her the night off. It's Friday, after all."
"I told her it could wait until tomorrow but she wasn't doing anything tonight and she likes working on this stuff."
"Is this the girl you used to date? Or someone else?"
"I
t's Karrie, my ex."
I assumed it was her, but having him confirm it makes me feel even more annoyed that she called.
"I thought she had a boyfriend. Shouldn't she be on a date?"
"She doesn't have a boyfriend. She's gone on dates with a couple guys but it didn't go anywhere."
"Does she know you're dating someone?" I hope that didn't come out sounding angry. I'm trying really hard to pretend his ongoing friendship with his ex doesn't bother me but I'm not sure I'm doing a good job.
"We haven't talked about you yet. Every time I go to tell her about you we get sidetracked with work. We've had so much going on that we really haven't talked much about our personal lives." The waiter stops by and Wes hands him the check with the money. "It's all set."
The waiter nods and walks off.
"So she's doing the ads, and what else?"
"She's designing some of the graphics for the games that are in development. I told you that, didn't I?"
"Yeah. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how she has time to work on your stuff and also go to college."
"She actually has a lot more free time than I do. She only has class a couple hours a day and she has Fridays off." He checks his phone. "She just sent me a new design."
"Do you need to call her again?"
"I'll just text her." He smiles at me. "We're on a date. I shouldn't be working when I'm on a date."
Right answer. I was hoping he wouldn't ditch me again to go call Karrie.
He texts her, then says, "Where do you want to go now?"
"I should probably get home."
"It's still early. We could go to a movie."
"I don't really go to movies. I only went to one with you because I didn't want to have to explain why I couldn't."
He nods. "It's too dark. I didn't think about that. Sorry."
I kind of like that he didn't think about it. It means maybe what I told him won't change anything between us. That he won't treat me differently now that he knows.
"So that night," he says, "you couldn't see any of the movie?"
"I could. It just takes a while for my eyes to adjust. And walking to my seat is a challenge if the theater's really dark. I can't see in the dark."
"But you're not afraid of it?" He smiles.
"No. I made that up so I wouldn't have to go out at night."
"You didn't have to do that, you know. You could've just told me the truth."
"I don't like people knowing. By the way, nobody at school knows this so I need you to keep it a secret."
"Why won't you tell anyone?"
"I get made fun of enough as it is. I'm not giving them even more reasons to pick on me."
"If they knew, they'd understand why you can't see people beside you or why you trip sometimes. If anything, they'd be less likely to tease you, not more."
"I don't want them to know, okay? Please don't tell anyone."
"I won't." He stands up. "Let's get out of here. Take a walk."
"A walk?" I ask as I follow him outside.
There's a lighted pathway in front of the restaurant that goes down a street lined with stores that are now closed. Wes takes my hand and we stroll down the sidewalk.
"It's dark," I say, "and you didn't even ask if I could see."
"I'm counting on you to tell me. You were worried I'd treat you differently now that I know the truth, but have I done that?"
"No."
"And I'm not going to. Not unless you tell me to. So if you're worried about walking down the sidewalk at night, you need to tell me. I'm not going to assume you can't do it. I'm going to assume you can."
I stop and smile at him. What he said just now? It might be the best thing anyone's ever said to me. Since getting diagnosed, all I've wanted is to be treated like nothing has changed. And that's exactly what Wes has done.
"What's going on? Why'd we stop?"
I loop my hands around his neck and reach up and kiss him. He kisses me back, his arms going around my waist. He turns my short, innocent kiss into a much hotter, longer kiss that continues until we hear some people coming out of the restaurant. We're a ways down the street but the noise is enough of an interruption to end our kiss.
"Why'd you kiss me?" Wes asks with a smile.
"Because you didn't ask if I could walk down the sidewalk."
He takes my hand and leads me to a nearby bench to sit down. "Can I ask you something? It's about your eyes so if you want to say no, go ahead."
"You can ask. What is it?"
"Why do you squint so much in class? Is it because you can't see?"
"I can see but the light bothers me. It's too bright and there's a glare."
"Is that why you get headaches?"
"Yeah. It didn't happen last year but this year the light is really bothering me."
"Can you do anything to make it better? Like maybe wear tinted glasses?"
"And get made fun of even more? Yeah, I don't think so."
"I'm serious. Would that help or not?"
"It would, but the glasses they give you are really ugly. I'd rather just deal with the headaches and hope they go away."
He pauses for a moment. "Do you have to have a special kind of lens? You can't just buy sunglasses, right?"
"For indoors, no. I need special lenses that cut the brightness and help reduce glare."
"What if you found frames you liked and they switched out the lenses with whatever kind you need?"
"People at school would still make fun of me for wearing them."
"Stop worrying about them. This is about you. You shouldn't be suffering all day when there's a way to fix this."
"I'm not suffering. It's just a headache."
"Which you've had every day since school started. And you shouldn't have to squint all the time."
"I'm not wearing glasses. It's not worth it. I'm sure the headaches will go away if I give it more time."
"They've been getting worse, not better. And don't try to say they're not because I can tell they are."
I should be mad right now. Mad that he's making me talk about this and mad that he's bringing it up when we're supposed to be on a date. And yet I'm not mad. Is it because of Wes? Am I more comfortable talking about this stuff with him than I am with Stella? Or my mom?
"I've got an idea." Wes gets up from the bench. "Let's go."
I stand up. "Go where?"
"To the mall."
"The mall? Why the mall?"
He takes my hand and heads to the car. "We have to hurry. They're closing soon."
We get in the car and I turn to him and ask again, "Why are we going to the mall?"
"We're getting you some glasses."
"I just told you I don't want glasses."
"You don't want ugly glasses. But if you had cool designer glasses, you might actually wear them."
"I can't afford cool designer glasses. Even if I could, the store probably wouldn't have the lenses I need."
"You'll pick out the frames and then we'll go wherever we need to go to get the right lenses put in. I'm paying for it so don't worry about what it costs."
"Wes, you're not buying me glasses. That's crazy."
"It's not crazy. I have money. You need glasses. Works out well." He turns at the light, heading toward the mall.
"I don't want you spending that much money on me."
"And I don't want you squinting and having headaches at school. It interferes with your assignments, and given that I'm your lab partner, I have a vested interest in making sure you're in top shape so that we get an A."
I smile. "That's why you're doing this? It's for you and not me?"
"Yep. I'm only looking out for myself."
"I still don't want to wear them. I don't want more nicknames at school."
"It's just glasses. A lot of people at school wear glasses."
"Not tinted glasses."
"We'll tell them they're sunglasses."
"That's even worse. I'll be the only person at school w
earing sunglasses indoors."
"Did I not mention I'm getting a pair too?"
"Um, no. What do you mean?"
"I'm getting some new sunglasses and wearing them to school."
"Why would you do that? You don't need them."
"But you do, and I know you don't want to be the only one wearing them so I'm going to wear them too."
"You'd really do that? Knowing people might make fun of you?"
"I'm willing to take the risk. But honestly, I think it'll up my cool factor by about a million." He glances at me and grins. "I'm already pretty cool so the glasses might actually be too much coolness for people to handle."
"You're not really going to do that, are you?"
"Of course I'm doing it. By now you should know I don't say I'm going to do something and then not follow through."
"I know, but I thought you were kidding. I'm not even sure you're allowed to wear sunglasses in school."
We're at the mall now and he pulls into a parking spot, then gets out of the car. I guess we're really doing this. Part of me still thought he was kidding.
"Do the teachers know?" he asks as we walk to the mall entrance. "About your eyes?"
"Yeah, but I told them I didn't want my classmates knowing."
"So if the teachers know, we'll just explain I'm wearing sunglasses so that you're not the only one. But I really don't think there's a rule against it. Guess we'll find out."
We go in the eyeglass store and Wes goes straight to the wall that has men's sunglasses. He picks up a pair of aviators and puts them on. He looks really hot in them. Like really hot.
"I'm getting these." He walks over to the women's side. "Now we need to find you a pair."
"That's it?" I point to his glasses. "You're just getting those without trying on any others?"
"I know what I like and these are the ones I like best."
"But you didn't even look at the others."
He leans down by my ear. "I'll say it again. I know what I like and when I find it, I don't keep looking for something better. I don't care if they're not perfect. If I chose them, then they're perfect for me and that's all that matters." He stands up straight and takes a pair of women's sunglasses from the top row. "How about these?"
I'm staring at him, still trying to figure out what he meant just now. Was he talking about the glasses or me? I kind of think he was talking about me. If so, does his comment mean he thinks I'm worried he'll find someone better? I am worried about that.
The Geek and The Goddess Page 19