Chasing Days

by Deirdre Riordan Hall

“Should I cancel the date with Grady tonight?”

  Teddy shrugs. “You have to do what feels right.”

  “But this immersion feels like it's become a"—

  "A shit storm?" Teddy asks.

  "—and I can't see the way in front of me. I didn't mean to hurt her.”

  “I know how difficult this is. It's like an onion, layer after layer of stuff to deal with. Sexuality is an integral part of a person's identity, but Joss likes you, a lot. You can call yourself bi, but being overly caught up in figuring out what to call yourself. That misses the point. Just live, don't hurt anyone for fucks sake, and eventually you'll experience love. If that’s with a girl, great. A guy, cool. Relationships and sex are about sharing a part of yourself in an honest and open way, regardless of gender. That's the power of self-determination.”

  The storm in my mind settles. I spit the proverbial grit from my mouth and wipe my eyes. "This is why I love you and a bunch of other reasons." I exhale and with it comes an outpouring of honesty. "I haven't you know, ahem, with Grady and I was thinking that maybe tonight..." Before I can say, "We might have sex and then maybe I'll finally be sure about things," from the other end of the dim hallway, an imposing figure starts toward us. There’s no mistaking the thick outline of Jaze.

  “Crap. Douchenoggin at twelve o’clock,” I say, warning Teddy.

  Teddy holds strong. I brace for attack.

  When Jaze reaches us, the expression on his face is open and not the hard scowl I expect.

  “Hey,” he says, nodding at both of us.

  “Hey?” I say, more of a question than a greeting.

  Teddy’s expression suggests curiosity.

  Jaze hesitates as if he isn't sure he wants to say what's on his mind.

  Teddy takes up the slack. “Jaze and I talked the other night, at the party. Good thing he caught me before I was completely wasted, but he has something he’d like to tell you.”

  My eyebrows lift.

  Jaze clears his throat. “I’m sorry for being a negaton for the last four years. You didn't deserve to bear the brunt of my ignorance and bullying.”

  It takes a full rotation of planet earth to process what I just heard.

  Again, Teddy keeps the conversation-ball in play. “The other night Jaze told me something about himself and apologized for being a royal shit brick.” He nods at Jaze. “He’s actually pretty cool.” Teddy does the lifted chin nod gesture typical of dudes that I've never seen him do before. “Jaze, keep an open attitude and college is going to treat you right, man.”

  The words do not compute.

  “Pick your jaw off the ground, Willa, darling. Jaze is exploring his sexuality. Nothing we’re not familiar with, right?”

  Instead of the angry jork I’ve come to despise, a nervous boy stands in front of me. Whoa. I find my voice. “Thanks, Jaze. That’s upstanding. Thank you,” I echo.

  "Cool. Well, see you guys around." He nods and then carries on down the hall.

  Then as if that earth shattering exchange didn’t happen, Teddy jumps right back into our talk about virginity, “What do you have to lose?”

  “Huh? Oh, duh, my virginity with Grady.”

  We near the cafeteria, which means the end of privacy.

  “You've lost your homo-ginity so you're asking about hetero-ginity?" Teddy glances at his watch. “Shit. I was supposed to meet Gretel five-minutes ago.”

  Before I get to take the conversation further or ask Teddy why he was looking for me to begin with, he sweeps into the cafeteria.

  I lean against the cool cement block wall, thinking about what to say to Joss, to Grady, about Jaze’s apology, and how to get through the rest of the day.

  A single tear drops down my cheek. The hallway is quiet. Puckett gives me a moment alone to say goodbye to the familiar classrooms, the long, dimly lit rows of lockers, and the girl I was. I wipe my tear away and then push open the door to the cafeteria.

  Just as I pick up my tray, a tinkling reverberates, like a hundred cell phones chime in sync. Then silence. Everyone freezes. I'm unsure if I'm supposed to do the same—if there was some kind of cryogenic freezing drill that I didn’t hear about. I draw a deep breath.

  The moment is surreal. I glance from face to face, eyes shuddered, arms and legs perfectly still. It’s like they’re all attuned to this one splendidly fantastic moment of nothing. The word sonder comes to mind. This beautiful and silent instant, surrounded by stories and dreams and hopes, pulls me from my cluttered thoughts about guys and girls and sex and the future. It plugs me back to the moment and expands my heart in every direction, lighting me up with joy. The task isn't just to leap, as Joss suggested, but to stay connected to now and now and now, whatever it feels or looks like or wherever I land.

  There’s a communal sigh of breath. On my next inhale, I take in something other than oxygen. Graduating means the net is gone, there’s no longer a handrail to steady me, or a guide to keep me on track. What comes next is all my doing. The choices, whether I go to college or work for my parents, travel through Europe or dig into city life and help at a LGBT youth center, it’s up to me. A smile blooms on my lips as everyone comes back to life.

  I finally exhale.

  Someone claps me on the shoulder. I whirl and Augie walks off. Then there’s Heather, who rushes over to me. “Epic flash mob, huh? That was amazing.”

  “It was,” I say, smiling, “It was.”

  Chapter Twenty- Five

  ☾

  Friday

  When I get home, I storm the kitchen like a bad habit. First, I stuff my face with chips and salsa. Today, I’ve spent far too much time in my head, leaving me to make one of three choices, two of which are wonderfully self-indulgent and involve Joss and Grady, but not at the same time. I go with the third, the most generous.

  I root through the pantry, come up with lasagna noodles, and read the box. I have jars of marinara sauce. However, I’m missing the right kinds of cheese. In addition to having a thing for artisanal beers, films and theater, my dad is cheese crazy, but there's no ricotta in the fridge. With the number of baggies and containers of cheeses he does have on hand, I’m determined to make this recipe work.

  Turning on the oven is punishing in this heat, but I bring in a fan and flip both on. I soon lose myself in shredding, spreading, and layering. Before long, the house smells like a fabled Nana’s kitchen in the old country.

  “It smells just like home: garlic, basil, cheese…what’s for dinner?” my dad says, entering through the creaky screen door.

  Daisy rushes up to him, wagging her tail. His arms are heavy with boxes. “Fresh stock, new brews, I've been experimenting with the cookie butter idea." He peers into the oven. "Either you've been conducting an experiment of your own or are cooking for an army. If you still want to have a party, Mom knows someone who'll cater, even on short notice," he says with his hands lifted in question. "Although, from what I’ve heard, the party next door was off da hook.”

  “No one says that anymore.”

  “I do,” my dad says, feigning offense.

  “Unfortunately, I’m aware of that,” I counter with a smile.

  “So did the Westings ever find out?” he asks.

  “Not yet. Although there is footage."

  My dad chuckles. “What are you cooking?”

  “I made a couple of dishes of lasagna for Annie Lemon and Rosa’s families.”

  “That’s thoughtful. And so tragic. I was sorry to hear about the accident. When I was your age there was this guy, Pratt was the last name. I can’t remember his first. Your mom would. He asked her out once—she said no, thank goodness. Anyway, it was one of those classic stories, car crash after prom, huge wreck. They left the totaled Mazda parked in front of Puckett for the next three years.”

  “What happened to Pratt?” I’m not sure I want to know.

  “He’d been drinking. Driving. His girlfriend died. He’s in a wheelchair.”

  “That’s wretched.”

&n
bsp; “Very, very sad. But, no need to get you down. You’re smart. Don’t go in the car if the driver’s been drinking or I suppose now a days, if they’re texting.”

  “Actually, I’m going out with Grady tonight.”

  My dad’s eyebrows arch with concern. “All the more reason.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re going on a date. Dinner and all that.”

  His mouth opens and closes as if torn between asking me about Joss, warning me against all manner of potential calamities, and keeping his mouth shut.

  “I better go get ready,” I say, walking toward the stairs, hoping he doesn't mind I used most of his cheeses.

  Once in my room, instead of pouring over what to wear—it would be helpful if Teddy were here for that—I flop onto my bed. Daisy jumps up and yaps at Pibbles and Wigwart. They refuse to acknowledge her. I let all the furry babies cuddle and comfort me.

  I went four years without so much as a flicker of interest from anyone, except Andrew. Then, in the final two weeks, it’s like stars I didn’t even know were in my sky aligned and here I am, wavering between who I thought I was and who I'm becoming, leaving me lost somewhere in the middle.

  I roll onto my side and catch sight of myself in the mirror on the back of my door. I’m not quite gay and I’m not only into guys. I’m bi. I never saw that coming.

  I mouth the word bisexual watching my lips form the letters. Then I am bisexual. I try it aloud, “I'm bisexual.”

  The whole thing is dizzying.

  I return to the scene in the cafeteria this afternoon, which was the opposite of disorienting. It was sobering in its stillness and magnification of the moment. I want to go back to that feeling.

  After a shower, I pull on a white sundress embroidered with white flowers. Its color isn’t lost on me even though I’m still not entirely sure about the status of my virginity. Perhaps being bi means I'm the embodiment of duality: life isn't always either-or, black and white, and I don't have to live a monochromatic existence.

  I put on music and fuss with my hair. I fling myself around my room and with top-of-my-lungs singing, I make myself louder than the unanswerable questions knocking around in my mind. The evening crickets chirp in the background as if applauding my efforts.

  When I open my bedroom door to go downstairs, the lasagna smells great, but with a glance at the clock, I won’t have time to deliver it before Grady picks me up.

  My mom set the dishes on the counter to cool. “Your dad filled me in. It’s tremendously thoughtful. I made him forgive you for using all of his cheese.” She looks up at me. “You’re all dressed up.”

  “Grady asked me out tonight.”

  “How nice. You know, your dad and I never went on a date, not until—goodness, you were out of diapers. I’ll never forget. He met me after class, this was college mind you, and asked, ‘Autumn, I’d like to take you out to dinner. And I have two tickets to—’ I don’t remember. We never made it to the theater.”

  I resist making a grossed out face. “He’s not the most romantic fella in the world, but I wouldn’t trade him in.”

  “What’s that? You’re thinking of a downgrade?” my dad calls from the futon sofa with a chuckle.

  Just then, we hear the rumble of the Mustang.

  “Grady O’Testosterone,” my dad says. “Don’t give me a reason to eat whatever cheese is left in the fridge.”

  I give him a withering look.

  “Kidding. I won't stress eat. Just be home by midnight.”

  “Midnight-ish?”

  “Big day tomorrow.”

  “Oh, right,” I say.

  “All I ask is that you be reasonable.” He winks.

  “And true,” my mom says.

  “And honorable,” my dad adds.

  “And safe.” My mom envelops me in a hug. “To the moon and back,” she whispers.

  It’s as if they know exactly what’s going to happen and tread carefully on the potential for mortification. Before I get any redder, I dash toward the door, calling, "To the moon and back."

  Grady is about to knock and I usher him, quickly, back to the car.

  “Willa,” my mother calls. “The lasagna.”

  “Oops. Do you mind if we swing by and drop these off. I made them for the Lemons and the Vitti's.”

  “No problem.” We walk to the Mustang. "You look great." He shuffles his foot in the driveway.

  "Thanks."

  He pulls the door open for me and then smiles brightly when he gets behind the wheel. “So no Joss, huh? Busy?”

  “No, she had something with her Grandma tonight.” The little red flag just doubled in size. “Why do you ask?” I rush passed any excuses he’d use and blurt, “Have you been talking to Dave Hastings?”

  “No, why would I talk to that knob?”

  “How about Eve?”

  "She's so self-righteous. You should hear some of the crap she says in social science."

  "I have heard some of the things she says."

  “She has some serious repressive shit going on,” he comments.

  "Grady, then why do you keep asking about Joss?” Caring about this does not make me any less of a feminist, my mom has my back on that one, I’m sure of it. For once I just want to be the special girl, the apple of someone’s eye, the one and only. Not have him wonder where's Joss and her big boobs?

  Grady clears his throat, “Augie asked about her. He has a huge crush on her, actually. He thought since you and her are friends, maybe I could you know, find out if—” The curly punctuation in his voice worries me.

  “Well, she’s gay,” I announce.

  Grady’s foot stomps the break, but he quickly recovers. I should add and so am I, fifty percent of the time.

  “Wow. My gay-dar is messed up. All those years I thought Teddy...I mean Theo. And—wait, really? Are you sure she’s—? Augie's gonna—”

  “Oh, I'm positive,” I answer a little more forcefully than I mean to.

  “Shit. My bad.”

  “What about Augie—?” I say.

  “He's going to be disappointed. Though I told him that it shouldn't matter because she's graduating. He's stuck at Puckett for another year. I shouldn't even be telling you this, but he has a super crush on her. Poor guy's never—you know. He's like a guy's guy and he's shy, actually. At least around girls." He clears his throat. "He's never been with a girl." Grady shrugs. "He can't seem to get up the nerve to… Y'know? But, uh, keep it to yourself, he'd kill me if he heard me saying this.”

  "Oh." I take a beat. Augie and I really aren't that different. "Yeah, of course."

  The next two point five-minutes pass in earthwormy, muddy discomfort. I waffle between relaying my so-called immersion to allay some of my guilt and then kissing him. Not even in our worst moments did Teddy and I go this long in silence. I’m relieved when we arrive at the Lemon residence, but wish it were under different circumstances.

  After we leave the lasagna with her grandpa, the Mustang grumbles and rumbles down the street to Rosa’s house. Uneasy tension rocks and rolls between Grady and I along with a Tom Petty classic. I scratch a spot on my back, wondering where my wings are right now. If I leap, I'm sure to fall.

  There are nearly a dozen people in the entry when Rosa’s mother answers the door. I hold up the lasagna then Grady and I spend the next half hour on opposite ends of the kitchen talking with various members of the Vitti family.

  When Grady finally excuses us to our dinner reservation, regret pinches me at our departure; it's like the need to confess my immersion joined us on our date and I can't escape it.

  We arrive at an Italian restaurant and Grady opens the door for me, chattering about how good the lasagna smelled and what a coincidence he'd picked Ciao Pasta e Pane for dinner. I think of Heather and all the date nights she relayed to me.

  Game. Heather would award him a point for being a gentleman.

  When the server takes our order, we both select the lasagna and I forget to tell her I want a salad. He rushes af
ter the server to let her know. I also knock my fork on the floor and he gets a new one.

  Set. Another point for being sweet.

  He's quiet when I ask him about his summer plans and if he's excited for the fall. He asks me the same questions and I change the subject. Perhaps we're both at odds with what the future holds.

  We talk about school and Grady reveals he and Augie masterminded the sudden freeze in the cafeteria earlier. “It was to honor our last day and Rosa and Annie Lemon. I texted you about it. It was on Facebook, but I know you don't have an account. I told Theo to tell you in case we didn’t see each other.”

  Match. The win for thinking of me, for being a genuinely nice guy, and for creating such a beautiful and memorable experience for all of us at Puckett. The tingles return, full blast, almost...

  "Yesterday, my mom reminded me to charge my phone, but I forgot." I imagine that's what Teddy wanted to tell me in the hallway. “That minute in the cafeteria was incredible.” I give him an overview of what it was like witnessing it and the rest of dinner passes in pleasant conversation, but I'm on the constant edge of wanting to tell him the truth.

  When we get back to the Mustang, sparks crackle between us as we reach the shore for a romantic walk on the beach at sunset. Grady wins date night.

  The sky is cotton candy pink and blue. I remember our first meeting here when I found the nudibranch. It feels like I’ve aged a million years since that evening and then earned myself back a few months with copious laughter and meaningful connection.

  Grady and I talk and walk, hand in hand, and I haven’t left Joss behind, but also can’t imagine her doing this with me either. A walk on the beach is romantic territory and she’s more like Watts from Some Kind of Wonderful to Grady’s Jake Ryan from Sixteen Candles. Teddy would be thrilled if he could hear me thinking in John Hughes references.

  When we reach the car, again I shiver. “Chilly?” Grady asks.

  I nod. He gives me his sweatshirt. Double win.

  “Want to head back to my house? My parents are out. They went to a barbecue; chances are they'll be gone late.”

  My answer is a coy smile because I know what happens next. I'm walking a tight rope between telling him everything and not wanting to ruin tonight. He should know that it's my first time, but it's a long way down and I'm not sure there's a net. If I become hopelessly embarrassed, do the wrong thing, or hate it, I'm afraid I'll go splat. If I tell him about my immersion, I'm afraid he'll tell me to leave.