What choice did I have? I couldn’t pretend like Laura’s information didn’t bother me. She’s a guy? That explains the power tools in her makeup case. My sister would never buy it.
I remembered what Sage had said. How I should just tell the truth. Let Laura know that I already knew. Not that I was happy about it, but that I was … accepting?
No way. My feelings for Sage were as jumbled and confused as the wiring job on Jack’s car stereo. One moment, I saw myself standing next to her after college graduation, saw us kissing in our caps and gowns. The next, I felt confused, wondering how I could experience such strong emotions for someone with testicles. How could I explain to my sister, the person I loved most in the world, what I didn’t even understand?
What if Laura thought I liked the fact that Sage was born a boy? What if she thought I was dating her because of her penis? My sister would think I was gay. She’d probably suspect that Sage was just a stepping stone and that the next person I dated would be a big strapping football player named Bruce. Laura would be accepting, all right. Way too accepting.
I’d just have to forget about Sage. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Something would have gone wrong eventually. It would be insane for me to bike over to her house and beg her forgiveness. To call Laura and try to explain things. To forget about everyone else’s opinion for once and only worry about my own feelings.
Sage would survive. I’d survive. We were better off apart. Painful and quick, just like ripping off a Band-Aid. Well, more like gouging a piece of shrapnel out of my stomach, pouring a bottle of gin into the wound, lighting it on fire, and sewing my guts up with a dirty bootlace. But the concept was the same.
Mom was cooking a hamburger casserole when I got back to the trailer.
“Where in the world were you?” she asked, more concerned than angry. “I saw your bag on the couch, but you must have gone out again before I got home.”
“Went for a walk.” I really did not feel like talking or sitting down to dinner.
“In the rain? You’re soaked. Leave a note next time, Logan. So how’s Laura doing?”
I wiped my feet and took off my jacket. “Fine.” She had sex with some guy last night.
“And did you have fun?” Mom prodded.
“Yeah.” I had sex with a guy last night.
“And did Sage enjoy herself?” The question was casual, but this was the one she really wanted answered. She was groping for hints about what was going on between us.
The funny thing was, before I’d talked to Laura, I would have happily admitted she was my girlfriend. I wouldn’t have told Mom what had happened in the dorm, but I might have “accidentally” admitted Sage was more than a friend. Bragged a little, let my mom know I was finally over Brenda.
Thank God Laura had called before I said that. Now I didn’t have to explain why Sage was about to disappear forever.
“Sage had fun. I didn’t see her too much. Today she had to talk to her advisor and hung out with people she knew in town.”
Mom sighed. She’d been hoping for more information. Complaining of a stomachache, I exited to my room, lay down on my bed, and stared at the ceiling until dawn.
The next morning, I went to school determined to show the world that I didn’t have any feelings for Sage (again). I had to prove to all my friends that we were not romantically involved (for the second time).
Tim and Jack obviously knew that Sage and I were more than casual friends. The way we always hung out, and the couple of months of me refusing to talk to her … People only act like that when there’s something going on.
Then again, maybe I was giving them too much credit. The last time Jack put two and two together was in first-grade math, while Tim … Tim had other things on his mind.
He nearly tackled me when I was parking my bike that morning. Even before he said a word, I knew what was up. His grin was so broad he could have swallowed an entire Big Mac in one bite (which I knew he could do from firsthand experience). He was literally jiggling with excitement, his belly and breasts rippling like the ocean in a windstorm.
“Logan, guess what?” I hadn’t seen him this worked up since they’d built the Pizza Hut in Moberly. This could only mean one thing.
“You and Dawn,” I answered with a wink.
Tim nodded forcefully. “We were at her house Saturday. You were right, Logan. Things just sort of fell into place.”
“You dog.” I was happy for him. I had begun to worry that he’d never meet anyone.
“I had to tell someone.” He paused and looked over his shoulder as if Dawn might be listening in. “So how was Mizzou?”
“Great!” I said a little too emphatically. “I met this chick at a frat party. We went back to her place …” I left it hanging.
“You dog!” laughed Tim, slapping my palm. “Who was she?”
“Girl named Erin.” I answered with the first name that came to mind. “Damn, she was amazing. I hope Laura’s roommate doesn’t find out what we did in her bed.”
“I thought you went back to her place.”
I’d been thinking of Sage, remembering our night together. God, had it only been a couple of days before? “I meant Laura’s room.”
The warning bell rang, and we entered the building.
All day long I dreaded running into Sage. At the same time, I deliberately tried to find her. Now that I had calmed down a little, I wanted to talk to her. Tell her about my fears, about why I couldn’t explain things to my sister and how I just wasn’t brave enough to have a relationship with her, no matter how much I wanted that.
Sage probably wouldn’t even talk to me. But maybe at college, after we both had a few months to regroup … I’d run into her somewhere. We’d awkwardly catch up on what we’d been doing. Maybe agree to have coffee sometime (mental note: start drinking coffee). Start getting together. We’d never date again, but was being friends so out of the question? Lots of people stayed close to their exes. Why couldn’t that happen for us?
Because the other option was never seeing Sage again. Never hearing her laugh. Not being able to talk about classes or my family or the lack of heat in the dorms. I wouldn’t be the one to comfort her when she got scared. She’d be alone. So would I. She was the best friend I’d ever had, the girl who I cared for on a much deeper level than what I’d felt for Brenda, and I was risking kicking her out of my life forever. Just to protect myself.
Sage and I didn’t cross paths all day, and I began to wonder if she’d stayed home. I didn’t see her until after school as I was talking to Jack in the commons.
“The way I see it,” said Jack, halfheartedly pummeling the soda machine, “if I bring my computer and you get a minifridge, our dorm will be pretty set, at least to start off. We might start saving for a DVD player later.”
Jack could not contain his excitement about our freshman year. Saturday, I would have been just as eager. Of course, that was when Sage was going to be part of my college experience. Now she’d be there, but I’d never talk to her. Never hang out with her. Never …
“Sage!” shouted Jack suddenly. “Hey, Sage!”
There she was, strolling through the commons. She was wearing the same black-and-white dress I’d seen her in on her first day at school. Apparently, I’d misjudged; she wasn’t at home weeping over my picture. Of course, she looked like she was ready to punch out the first person who talked to her.
“Sage!” hollered Jack, oblivious to her furious expression. “Gimme a buck!”
She iced by, not looking at either of us. I stared at her as she stormed out the front door, trying not to think of the now familiar freckles just under the back of her dress.
I almost followed her. Honest to God, I did. I’d grab her by the shoulder, spin her around, and apologize. But just as I was getting into my sprinter’s crouch, I froze. Jack was still standing there. And he’d wonder what I was apologizing about. And if he ever found out …
She was gone now. Out in the parking lot, out
of my sight, out of my life. I was deluding myself thinking she’d ever want to be friends again. If I tried to talk to her on campus, she’d probably call security.
“What did I do now?” whined Jack. He was used to apologizing for offenses he didn’t realize he’d committed, and he thought Sage’s brush-off had been directed at him.
I shook my head. “It’s not you, it’s me. She’s all bent out of shape for some reason.” I rolled my eyes, trying to project a who the hell knows what chicks are thinking? expression.
Jack didn’t smile. “I think I know why.”
My guts rattled. “Why?”
Jack sat on a bench, then immediately began tapping his feet. I sat down next to him. “Tim told me you slept with some chick at Mizzou.” There was no admiration in his voice.
“So?”
“So, that’s kind of sticking it to Sage, isn’t it? I know you don’t like her, but she’s all messed up over you. I can’t say I blame you for chasing some tail, but that had to have been hard for her.”
Yes, hard for her. Almost as bad as if I’d slept with her, then told her the next night that I was embarrassed by her. But what kind of a jerk would do that?
“Thanks, Captain Sensitive.” I marched off. Jack didn’t know how right he was. I’d hurt Sage, but much more deeply than anyone realized.
I thought of a poem from eighth-grade English. I couldn’t remember the title, or the poet, or any of the words. The gist was that everyone wishes they could turn back time, but of course, no one can.
For once, I understood a poem. If I could just turn back time a couple of days, then all my problems would be solved. I could … What? Warn Sage to be careful in the shower stall? Or … go straight to Brian’s room after the party?
It was stupid even to think about. That was all in the past. I didn’t know what my future would hold. I just knew one person who wouldn’t be in it.
I couldn’t avoid talking to Laura forever. Eventually, I’d have to say something. But I tried my damnedest to put that off. Every day that week, either I had track practice or I mowed lawns. I was collecting quite a little bundle of cash. Since I didn’t have a car to pay for, I’d have plenty of spending money for my first year of college.
Sage and I didn’t talk. Tammi never looked in my direction at school (I think I was more afraid of talking to her than to Sage). They were going to let me get away with it. No confrontations, no revenge; I was gone. We were both free to live our own lives.
I knew things weren’t irreparable. The night we’d broken up, Sage had been pretty self-righteous. But she had to know how difficult things were for me. And right now I was sure a sincere apology would win her back. She wasn’t vengeful or cruel by nature, and she’d said several times that I was a lot more understanding than members of her own family. All I had to do was drop her a note asking to meet. Tell her I’d panicked and didn’t want things to end. And we’d go right back to how things were before, until the next crisis came along and I went scampering off again.
Every day I delayed, Sage’s feelings would grow colder. And eventually, I’d no longer be worth the trouble. Back in November, I would have taken Brenda back, even after she’d cheated. But now I knew I deserved better. Sage would ultimately come to the same conclusion.
Thursday afternoon, I was trying to get my lawn mower running. There was water in the gas line, and it didn’t want to start. I didn’t realize I had company until I saw my sister’s shadow fall over me.
“Laura!” Shit! “What are you doing here?”
Laura looked grim. I’d never noticed before how much she resembled our mother. That same pinched-mouthed, steely-eyed expression Mom wore when she went off to spend another ten hours pouring coffee and burning her wrists on hot plates. The fatalistic determination of someone who wished she could avoid something but couldn’t.
“Is Mom here?”
I gave the mower another halfhearted yank. “She’s working.”
“Can we talk?” she asked, gesturing at the trailer.
I tugged the cord again. “Fine.”
“Logan … about what I said on the phone.”
I stood and walked away a few paces. “Do we really have to discuss that?”
“I didn’t want to humiliate you …”
Then why did you? “What’s done is done, Laura. Sage lied to me, and you made me see that. Do me a favor and let’s not talk about this again.” I was speaking in a monotone, reciting the required lines, bad-mouthing a girl who desperately needed a friend. With that last sentence, I’d closed the door on Sage forever. I’d made her responsible for my lies. I’d placed the blame on a blameless girl, and now she’d never come back.
Laura, of course, couldn’t let things drop. She was a woman, after all, and always wanted to discuss relationships, even other people’s.
“Logan, I know this is hard for you.”
I nearly yanked the cord out of the mower. It violently coughed.
“But I couldn’t not tell you,” she continued.
“Yeah. Look, just go, okay? It’s over. I’ll see you this summer.”
“Logan …” She stopped. Eventually, I turned and faced her. “Logan, something occurred to me the night after you visited. I thought that maybe … I dunno … maybe I was telling you something you already knew.” She grinned apologetically, but her eyes were questioning.
So Sage had been right. My sister wasn’t going to judge, wasn’t going to ask questions, wasn’t going to mock. All I had to do was say yes. I didn’t even have to do that. All I had to do was nod and the conversation would be over. Forever. Laura would understand that Sage was what I wanted and leave it at that. And by telling Laura the truth, I’d prove to Sage I was as brave as she needed me to be.
But there are some things you can’t do. Some things you can’t admit, not to yourself, and especially not to your family. My next words were hateful, offended.
“How could I have known? You think I would have dated her … him … it … if I’d known?” The insults were forceful, yet forced.
Laura backed up a step but didn’t blink. “It’s just that if you already did know, and didn’t have a problem with it …”
“Shut up!” I hadn’t physically fought with Laura since I was six, but I considered holding her mouth shut with my hand just to get her to stop talking.
“Logan, if you wanted to keep dating Sage, I’d understand. I wouldn’t tell anyone.” She spoke rapidly, like she was afraid of losing her nerve.
I screamed so loud it came out as a squeak. “Why don’t you mind your own fucking business?”
Laura was crying as she rushed back to her car. I grabbed the lawn mower by its body, and with an enraged scream, hurled it six feet across the yard.
chapter thirty-one
THE NEXT FRIDAY, we had our last track meet of the year. We kicked ass. Those douches from Higbee didn’t know what hit them. We won nearly every event. I finished first in three races and broke the school record for the 200-meter dash. Jack tied his personal best for the hurdles. Coach Garrison’s praise still echoed in my ears: “Good job, men.”
It was a night to celebrate. The whole team, along with girlfriends, buddies, and various other people with nothing better to do, took off to Boyer’s number one exclusive nightspot: the abandoned quarry.
I’m not sure they’d ever actually excavated rock there. I think they dug it out in 1935, then let it fall apart so four generations of Boyer High School students would have a place to get drunk, shoot off fireworks, and have illicit sex. Just two miles outside of town, the quarry was almost completely isolated. If you didn’t mind risking a broken leg or drowning in a flash flood, you could have a fun time there. Even the meth heads considered the area off-limits, and the police never showed up. Maybe the cops remembered what they’d done in the quarry when they were teens.
There must have been forty people there Friday night, and not all of them were from Boyer. Someone had set up a boom box on a rock, and the crashing
music vibrated into the otherwise silent night. We’d attempted to build a bonfire out of damp wood, and a flickering, smoky blaze cut a few feet into the darkness. In the shadows, I could just make out people I knew. Drinking, laughing, dancing, and making out. Everyone was there with a date. Even Jack was having his face chewed on by a cute runner from Higbee.
I sat on the ground, nursed a beer, and tried to pretend I was having a great time. I mean, I was having a good time. Really. My good friends, the tang of victory, a case of Bud … what more could I ask for?
I remembered how Sage had watched me practice. If I hadn’t dumped her, she would have come to the track meet. And afterward, maybe we could have sneaked off to the abandoned gravel pits and run a victory lap.
But it wasn’t the celibacy that was really getting to me. I just wished Sage was with me. I wanted to be near her. Wrap my jacket around her when she got cold. Make fun of the other people together. Share that special closeness without saying anything.
I chugged my beer, trying to drive those thoughts from my head. Laura had all but asked me if I was gay. No matter how understanding she was, I could not let her think that. Even if we never discussed it again, Laura would consider me a secret homosexual for the rest of my life. And aside from Laura, someone else might find out. I couldn’t go through life with that hanging over my head.
But my sister had been right, hadn’t she? Laura had suspected I liked Sage, despite (or because of) her sex. But instead of doing the right thing, I’d shoved Sage right out of my life. The girl who’d helped me get over Brenda. The girl who’d helped make me a man. The girl who’d told me how much she needed my friendship, and how the future wouldn’t be quite so scary with me there. The girl who’d, years ago, once tried to …
Why couldn’t she just be a real girl? Our lives would be great. She was so close to the real thing. But close didn’t count.
Jack staggered toward me, his eyes bleary, lipstick all over his neck. He bent over to grab a drink from the cooler.
“Logan! BHS kicks ass!” His head zoomed from side to side as if he was daring anyone to suggest that we did not, in fact, kick ass.
Almost Perfect Page 21