by P. Dangelico
“Are you gonna let them all pass you by?”
I don’t respond and we both fall silent as we watch the first rays of light break over the Malibu hills and hit Catalina.
“Any word from Rea?” Quinn says after awhile.
“Nothing.” It’s been four months and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever hear from him again. I know why he had to go, I get it, but a text, a call––anything to let us know he’s alive and okay––would be helpful. “He’s obviously not gonna graduate with us.”
“Yeah,” Quinn grimly returns.
We fall silent again, the time marked by the sun rising higher in a cloudless blue sky. It paints the Pacific in shades of blue and purple.
I never tire of this. The only sight that does a better job of quieting the restlessness pushing against me from the inside out is Dora’s smile. Making my girl happy kills every doubt I’ve ever had about myself.
My girl…
“What’s next for you?”
Glancing sideways, I find Quinn as lost in his own thoughts as I am.
“Working for the family biz.”
“Junior beer king in the making?”
There’s no bite to his dig. Which in itself is unusual. This is the most time we’ve been in each others company without the conversation turning sour.
“Something like that. You?”
“Entry level at CAA. Sports division.”
“Sports agent. Cool.”
“What happened with that fit little bird of yours? I haven’t seen her around.”
“Bird?”
“Hen. Chick.”
“Oh…” Smiling now. “Hen. Yeah, I like it.” But the smile drops shortly after. “We broke up.”
“Why?”
The shrug is involuntary. “Life, I guess…She’s leaving for the East Coast after she graduates next year. She wants to be a vet and grad school is in New York, and I’m going to be working at our plant in Temecula.”
“What a bunch of cock and bull,” he deadpans.
“Come again?”
“I know you like her, so what gives?” He studies me for a beat. “Wait…did she dump you? God, please tell me she dumped you.”
The smile that grows on his face at the mere possibility that I was dumped is downright evil. Which makes me laugh.
“No, she didn’t dump me…” the humor deserts me, “but eventually it all goes that way, doesn’t it? People change their minds. They leave. Life takes over…what’s the point of dragging it out.”
“What a sad little bitch you are. You know what pisses me off most about you, Van Zant?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.” His usual baiting doesn’t work on me anymore. When you’ve lost everything you care about, nothing really gets your goat.
“You have no fucking idea how lucky you are. So you went through some shite. We all have. Get over it. When I was thirteen, one of my mother’s boyfriends caught me jerking off to his rugby magazine and broke my arm in three places––and he was the nice one. You don’t see me crying about it in the mirror.”
It’s a credit to Smith that he could make me chuckle with a story like that.
“I’m not you…I don’t know how you do it.”
He looks off, pensive. “One day at a time, brother. One day at a time. But I’ll tell you something––I stopped expecting the worst to happen.”
Damn, maybe he’s right. Maybe I fucked up this relationship because I was expecting the worst.
People leave, I remind myself. Dogs die. And I’m left to pick up the pieces once again. But the voice isn’t as loud this time.
“An old surfer I know in Venice––homeless guy,” he starts again. On the horizon, another wave builds and neither one of us makes a move to catch it. “I bring him food from time to time, and we chat. He likes to chat and doesn’t have anybody to do that with…When I asked him why he doesn’t get off the streets, he said something that really stuck. He said, ‘Ride the wave you’re given. Make it a great ride. Make it the best ride possible. But don’t try to turn it into something it isn’t. That goes for life and people too.’”
I shoot him a sideways glance to asses the level of crap he’s feeding me and find nothing other than quiet contemplation on his face. “That’s deep.”
“Fucking hell––it is, isn’t it? And he’s right. You can’t change people any more than you can change your circumstances. All you can do is take them as they are and make the best of it.”
I’m fairly certain he’s speaking about his mother. The bus ride back from Stanford comes back to haunt me. Time to make amends.
“I’m sorry about what I said about your mother––on the bus ride home that night. That was out of line.”
He turns to look at me and smirks. “Don’t sweat it, pretty boy.”
A good-sized wave approaches and Quinn starts to paddle out. Before he gets out of earshot, he throws a sinister glance over his shoulder. “Besides––I’ve said the same shite about your dad.”
“Bite me, asshole,” I chuckle.
“You’re not my type,” he shouts back as he gets up on his board. Howling, he flips me off. Then Quinn rides the wave he’s given.
Dora
“No sign of him, huh?” Vi says with a sympathetic look on her face.
Shaking my head, I take the last of the empty soda bottles out of her hands and place them in the recycling bin while Mika breaks down the bar set up in the corner.
In the two weeks since Dallas called me his “friend” I’ve neither seen nor heard from him. It’s official––I’ve been ghosted without an explanation or a proper break up. I know it in my heart, the one that’s barely beating without him. The level of disappointment and heartbreak I’m currently experiencing runs so deep I dare not talk about it even with the girls because I’m sure I’ll have a total breakdown that I can’t afford right now. Not with all the schoolwork and testing I have to do.
I can’t even muster the requisite anger. I know why he’s pushing me away––he’s leaving me before I can leave him. But that doesn’t stop me from loving him with every fiber of my being. The spigot doesn’t get automatically turned off because someone leaves…or dies. I get what he was trying to tell me now. The love keeps flowing, and with nowhere for it to go you eventually drown in it.
All I can do is wait for him to realize it on his own time. I’ve always been a proponent of actions speak louder than words anyway. I’ll show him how steadfast true love is.
“Do they think this is a petting zoo, or are they gonna adopt?” Vi mutters under her breath.
She’s speaking about the young couple standing near the cats. They’ve been here for hours and are the only ones left of the crowd we had all day. Although by the looks of it, Cletus doesn’t seem to have a problem with the heavy petting. What a lush that cat is.
“We’ll take him,” the woman holding the fat elderly tabby says.
“Score,” Vi mutters again.
The opening party was a huge success, but we’re all so exhausted. As soon as the paperwork is done and Cletus is placed in a carrier, Mika runs to lock the door behind them. My night isn’t even over yet. I have to head back to the dorm and start packing up my things.
Graduation is in a few days. After the party at Shutters on the Beach the graduating class is throwing, I’ll head back to Del Mar for the summer. I’m still considering skipping the party altogether, but I’m sure Zoe won’t let me.
“He’s grieving. He’ll come around. You’ll see,” Vi says as she gives me a big hug. I won’t see them again till next fall.
“Just make him beg for it when he does,” Mika adds. If only it was that simple.
It’s 8 p.m. by the time I park Bernadette in the empty parking lot next to my dorm. Staring out into the darkness, I fight with myself, and I mean I literally fight myself.
“Don’t…”
But the forces of evil are formidable. They keep dragging my attention to the cell phone sitting in the c
up holder. The one Dallas bought me to replace the one he broke. That feels like it happened a hundred years ago.
“Don’t call him. Don’t do it. That’s… beyond pathetic.”
I pick up the phone. My fingers hover over the speed dial.
“Do not do it.” I put the phone in the cup holder. “Good. Now step away.”
As soon as I jump out of the car, a warm gust of June wind takes my hair and whips it around. The breeze brings with it a trace of smoke from a wildfire still burning up north. It reminds me of the car ride to San Francisco.
Regardless how this goes, whatever may come of us, it was still the best decision I ever made. He was the best decision I ever made, the reward so much greater than the risk of losing him. Because having been loved and loving, even for a short time, is better to not having loved at all.
With a bittersweet smile on my face, I pop the trunk door and begin organizing, making room for the boxes I have to haul back home.
“How was the opening?”
That voice...It’s like a tuning fork for the rhythm of my heart. It does things to me on a physical level that defies explanation.
Closing the trunk, I turn and give him my undivided attention. Dallas stands a few feet away looking very much unlike himself. Dressed in gray slacks and a finely-tailored white dress shirt with his initials embroidered on the cuff, he’s every inch the aloof, sophisticated, heir to a beer fortune. Conveniently, I keep forgetting that’s what he is. It’s easy to forget when I’m around him, having the time of my life.
He won’t meet my eyes, his gaze shifting away and back.
This is going to devastate me. He used to be my guilty pleasure, a fantasy, and yet he’s become everything I need and more. In my heart, I know I’ll never love anyone else the way I love him.
“Good,” I answer and let him take the lead. If he’s here to break up with me, he might as well get on with it.
His head tilts down and his hair falls across his right eye. It takes all my strength not to reach up and push it aside. He’s not mine anymore. I don’t get to do that. One day in the future, someone else will. The thought alone makes me sick.
Catching himself fidgeting, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. His full pink lips press together tightly and his jaw tenses. Seeing him look so unsure, wearing not a stitch of his usual swagger, hurts. I don’t relish seeing him upset. If I could spare him all the pain he’ll ever feel in his life, I would do it without question.
“We had about a hundred people show up. T-Ten dogs and twelve cats got adopted…” He nods and shifts from foot to foot. “We missed you…I-I missed you.”
Tears threaten to embarrass me. I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stave them off, but it’s a losing battle.
Still nodding, his gaze keeps darting away and coming back to me. “I’m sorry I let you down…I need to explain––”
The grief-stricken look on his face sits like a cinderblock on my chest. “You don’t have to––”
“I do,” he insists. “I…I…” Shaking his head he looks off and huffs. I watch his lips move. Mustering the courage to end us. My stomach churns so violently I may throw up.
“When I found out that Beth left me for money I…it’s not…” He finally looks at me. Expression solemn, chin high. And yet to me he looks ready to come apart. “Everyone leaves me. She said she loved me and she left me for a hundred thousand dollars. That’s how much I was worth to her…she could’ve taken me with her but she chose not to.”
As much as I want to wrap my arms around him and make him feel better, I can’t.
“It took me a long time to get over her and then I got that letter…it was even worse…” He takes a deep breath, his eyes burning with emotion finally meet mine. “I love you, Dora. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. What if you get to school and decide it’s too much work to have a long distance relationship? What if you meet someone else? Can you honestly say that can’t happen?”
Yes, I can honestly say it can’t. But I don’t say it because he’s so gunshy I’m not sure anything will convince him of that. “Do you t-think I’m weak?”
He looks confused for a moment, taken aback even. “No. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”
“W-Would you say I’m fickle?”
Confusion blankets his face as he tries to figure out my angle. “No.”
“Well then w-why would you even consider the rest?”
He can’t answer. He can’t because it’s only his fear.
“T-These past two w-weeks have been p-pure hell for me––”
His head drops and he rubs the back of his neck. He looks so down and lost I almost reach out to hug him. But I stop myself. I can’t do this for him. He’s got to want to trust my love.
“For me too,” he murmurs, dejected.
I take two deep deep breaths to calm myself and start again.
“I love you. I love you like I-I never knew I could love someone…I thought Katherine w-was the l-last piece of the puzzle I was m-missing…I was s-sure of it. But she wasn’t…you were, Dallas.” Tears streak down my face and I wipe them away.
“You were the missing piece…I’m not psychic. All I can promise is that n-nothing outside of me and you”––I motion between us–– “is ever going to come between us. Nothing and no one will ever make me love you less. Only you can do that…Can you promise me you won’t fall for anyone else?”
“Yes,” he says, unequivocally and without hesitation.
“Then why c-can’t you believe that a-about me?”
He stares at me for a beat. His electric blue eyes glowing in the reflected light of the street lamps at the edge of the parking lot. In three long steps, he’s on me, his face buried in the side of my neck, arms around my upper body holding me so tightly my lungs may never function normally again.
“Don’t break up with me,” he says, the sound muffled by my hair. “I know I’m no prize, but maybe you could keep me anyway?” I nod against his shoulder as unchecked tears funnel down my cheeks and soak his shirt. “If you do, I promise to love you forever.”
And that’s the problem. His experiences have taught him that love is something to be bargained for. That he has to give in order to receive. Whereas my childhood showed me that real love is unconditional. It’s given freely with no expectation of reciprocation.
My parents taught me that the heart is a complicated organ. That in its imperfect beauty it is impetuous and blind, impractical and relentlessly forgiving. It wants who it wants without thought to race and class and gender. And it keeps wanting regardless of how many times it’s been mistreated.
I don’t question mine. I don’t fear it. I go willingly. I let mine lead me where it wants to go, and it keeps leading me right back to him.
“All I w-want is your heart,” I tell him through tears, “and y-your time. Because I would miss you too much if I didn’t have some.” Pulling up his shirt, I sneak my hand under the hem and palm the hot skin of his back. “And distance isn’t going to c-change that.”
“I’ve thought about this…” Picking his head up, he pushes at my shoulders and faces me. “If I catch a flight to LaGuardia on Friday nights––”
“I’m n-not going to C-Cornell,” I announce, anxious to put his concerns to bed.
His head jerks back a little. He searches my face for the truth and finds it. “You’re not?” he tentatively queries, not sure he can trust his ears yet.
“I’m going to C-Cal Davis. I mean, I haven’t applied yet, but with my t-test scores and grades…”
I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing it for me. I’m proud of my accomplishments. I don’t regret them. But I also don’t want to regret not giving us a real chance.
“You’re staying in California?”
University of California Davis is the top ranked veterinary school in the country so it isn’t exactly a tough choice. Privately, I think my parents breathed a sigh of financial relief when
I told them yesterday.
“I h-have a boyfriend and––”
I don’t get to finish that sentence and it has nothing to do with my speech impediment. Taking my face in his hands, he kisses me like his life depends on it.
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” he whispers against my lips as we stand in the empty parking lot clinging to each other. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.” More feverish kissing. “Anything you want is yours to have.”
My grip around his waist tightens. “Anything?”
Glancing up, I discover the cocky smirk is back on his face so I know he’s going to be okay…that we’re going to be okay.
“Anything.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dora
From my seat in the audience next to Blake, I watch Zoe give Alice the universal gesture for hand job. This is tame by her standards.
“I don’t read sign language,” Alice replies. A few attending visitors level admonishing glances their way.
This year went super fast. One more and it’ll be us up on that stage accepting our diplomas, thanking our loved ones, and moving on to bigger and better stuff.
“How about this? You read this?” This time Zoe flips Alice the bird and she laughs.
“What time does the party start?” Alice asks nobody in particular.
“Nine at Shutters on the Beach––” Blake answers.
Two girls seated directly in front turn around and shush Zoe who makes a face. “We got a block of rooms so no one has to drive,” she explains.
The two girls in front take it to the next level, graduating from shushing to giving us dirty looks.
“Mind your own business,” Zoe warns them, “or I’ll rip off those caterpillars glued to your eyes.” Horrified, the girls swivel around to face ahead.
Dallas’s entire family is in attendance, most of whom I’ve already met. His mother, Brenda, is dressed to the nines. His grandfather turned out to be a happy surprise. I know Dallas hates the comparison, but I see a lot of his grandfather in him. Even Dallas’s father showed up. I’ve never met him and frankly from afar, he looks about as friendly as an ice sculpture.