As usual, thanks for reading. I realized after I posted that my tense was screwy in some places, so the 4th chapter has since been updated. I apologize for the ickiness. Lastly, a special shout out to my friend CheapNovelty whose reviews always make me feel warm and fuzzy. I'm sorry for withholding so many EClare kisses from you.
Also, I renewed my Tumblr; it just has a different URL: .com.
Adam was eyeing Eli and me suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. Even with the black eye, though, his features were too soft and open to actually be menacing. "What is going on with you two?" He cocked his head to the side.
"What do you mean?" I asked, feigning innocence. "Nothing is going on."
"But you're being all weird and jittery. And you're holding hands under the table."
Eli and I quickly released each other's hands as if we'd been burned. "No we're not." Eli's voice was complacent, but his sly smile gave everything away.
Adam rolled his eyes. "It was inevitable, anyway, save me the third-wheel pity." But he couldn't quite keep the pleased smile from forming. "Is that why you're being all weird and secretive about this breakfast; you wanted to break the news to me gently?"
Trying to ignore the way my skin tingled when Eli placed his hand lightly on my thigh, I took a deep breath. "Not exactly," I fiddled with my ring nervously. I hadn't figured out how to broach the subject without offending Adam.
Sensing my distress, Eli gave my thigh a gentle squeeze and jumped right in. "That's quite the shiner you have there."
Adam's quirked his eyebrow. "Dude, you're not married yet. You don't have to do her dirty work." Adam fixed his stern gaze on me, and I scoffed.
"Excuse me, Eli is a free agent. We're just both worried about you."
"You're really bad with the concept of backing off, aren't you Clare?" Adam grumbled before popping a few strips of bacon into his mouth.
"Adam, I love you." My voice was intense and pleading. "You're one of my best friends. I just want you to be safe and okay."
"I know Owen, dude," Eli added. "He's actually evil. I think he may have been raised by Satan."
Adam pursed his lips, poking at his omelet. "Look, I appreciate what you guys are trying to do, but housing doesn't have any open rooms. They e-mailed me back this morning. I'm used to dealing with this kind of shit. It's not a big deal."
"No one should have to get used to bullying." I was angry at Adam's defeatist attitude, slamming my open palm on the table indignantly. Beside me, Eli seemed to be considering something intently.
"Clare, you have no idea what my life's been like. I've dealt with much worse, alright? Let's just drop it."
I eyed Adam sadly, realizing for the first time that he had as many walls as Eli. His were just better hidden; Adam didn't wear them on his sleeve. I opened my mouth to ask what he had been through that made a black eye seem like something to brush off, but suddenly Eli jumped in.
"Move in with me."
Adam did a double-take, his mouth falling open mid-chew. "You can't be serious."
"As a heart attack. Or a black eye," Eli cocked his eyebrow pointedly. "The futon's actually not too bad to crash on; I can clear out some drawers for you. It'll be kind of cramped, sure, but we'll make it work. Plus, man, marathon rounds of Skyrim and Halo."
Adam's eyes twinkled. "But you're serious? Really?"
"What combination of words do I have to string together to make you believe me?"
Grabbing Eli's hand again, I gave a grateful squeeze, pleased. I had no idea what made Eli think he didn't deserve me; he was such a sweetheart when you got past the layers of brooding sarcasm.
"Done!" Adam was suddenly his animated self again. He dropped his fork, grabbed his backpack, and slid out of the booth. "I'm going to start packing. You guys are…I freaking love you two!" And then he was running away, leaving us chuckling in his wake.
"That was really great of you," I sighed happily, dropping my head to Eli's shoulder.
"That was nothing," Eli waved off my praise. "But if you really want to reward me for my valiant behavior, I have a request."
"Is it legal?" I questioned, quirking my eyebrow at the devilish gleam in his eyes.
Eli scoffed. "You know me better than that, Edwards."
"I do know you, hence my hesitation."
"You are really just trying to hurt me, aren't you?" he pouted.
I held up my hands in surrender. "Okay, I'm sorry. How can I reward my chivalrous knight Eli Goldsworthy?"
Eli rolled his eyes. "While making out with you in library was far from objectionable, I usually like to treat the ladies I fancy with more respect than that. You owe me a proper date."
I giggled at his wording. "Okay then, what did you have in mind?"
Eli shook his head. "Nope, this is going to be special. Fuck traditional gender roles, but let me have this, Edwards. I want to take you out—the big romantic gesture. I have something planned, and I want to surprise you. So are you in?"
"I'm positively swooning with my need for you." I replied, placing the back of my hand to my forehead dramatically.
"I'm just making sure." He playfully glared at me.
Instead of answering, I gave him a chaste, lingering kiss. "I'm in."
###
Imogen was helping me curl my hair with some special, extra-thick iron she had—swearing it would look classically elegant with my shoulder-length style. Honestly, I had only submitted to her begging because she had been adamant, and the second she started to run the brush through my hair I had melted into the chair. There was something stress reducing about having someone gently comb out the tangles in your hair.
"So it's your first date, huh?" Imogen asked from behind, her speech inhibited by the bobby pins in her mouth. "Are you excited?"
"Very," I resisted the urge to nod my head enthusiastically. "I don't know where we're going, exactly, but Eli seemed pretty sure I'd enjoy whatever he has planned." I glanced up into the mirror Imogen had placed on my desk so I could watch the progress and noticed the way I simply couldn't keep the huge smile off my face when I mentioned Eli.
"Eli is very romantic," Imogen noted, carefully setting down the curler to adjust something. "Just…promise me you'll be careful, Clare Edwards."
Immediately, I bristled, assuming that Imogen was being passively aggressively jealous. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I just don't want to see you get hurt. I know firsthand what it's like to convince yourself that you're helping him, but Eli has a lot of walls. And nobody can keep up a façade long term without exploding every now and then."
My first instinct was to turn around and snap at Imogen that she didn't know what she was talking about, but the sadness in her voice pulled me up short. "Imogen?" She met my stare in the mirror. "What happened between you two?"
"Though the story is half mine," Imogen explained, wrapping another strand of my hair around the hot iron, "I don't think you should hear it from me. I'm not trying to ruin this for you or Eli. I just…" Imogen paused, her face screwed up in a grimace. "I know you find my habits annoying sometimes. You're not really that great at hiding emotions, Clare Edwards."
"Imogen," I rushed in, wanting to explain, but she held up her hand and smiled at me calmly.
"Let me finish. I know you find some things I do annoying, and I know that I can be a challenging person to live with. I was an only child for a long time, and I'm kind of bad with change. But you've never been mean to me, and you've supported me. You have treated me more decently than any other human in my life, including Eli. I think you're a special person, Clare-a-boo. And while I wish that you wouldn't assume I'm a delicate flower who can't handle criticism and have a straightforward conversation with me," she poked me in the side playfully, "I really like you. You're the nicest friend I've ever had. I really don't want you to get hurt."
I bit my lip, tears unexpectedly forming in my eyes. "Imogen, that's really sweet. Thank you."
She smiled brightly, her wild enthusiasm back in a flash. "You're welcome. Now close your eyes. I want to put on the finishing touches before you see yourself all dolled up for the big show."
I chuckled, realizing I had really started to appreciate the strange manner in which she communicated. And when she finally allowed me to open my eyes, I was surprised to find that, even though she had pinned it away from my face chaotically, her work really suited my face. "I…wow, Imogen. I look great."
She blew some raspberries. "You always looked great, it's just that now you look Moreno Great, patent pending."
I giggled, getting out of my chair to give my new friend a hug. She seemed surprised at first, but soon Imogen's strong arms were wrapped around me. When I finally pulled away, she studied me pensively.
"Now, about your outfit…."
###
At seven on the nose, a hearse pulled up in front of my dorm. And I was momentously astounded when it was Eli who popped out of it, swinging the keys around his pointer finger.
"Is this part of the date?" I asked skeptically.
"No, this is Morty," Eli grinned proudly, patting the hood fondly as he passed. "I've had him since high school."
"You drive a hearse." I felt the need to clarify.
"Well, yeah. I do it for the girls, really."
"It's working on me like a charm," I joked, trying to get up the courage to take a step closer. Dead bodies had been in the back before. I shivered.
"Clearly," Eli laughed, adjusting his tie. It drew my attention away from the hearse.
"You look…very charming, Sir Goldsworthy," I finally found the right adjective, more than a little bowled over. Eli had on nice, black slacks, a grey button up, black tie, and a deep purple vest over it.
He shrugged, but couldn't quite keep the smug grin off his face. "I have a big date with this beautiful woman, and one does not want to show up looking like a fool for a big event. You look wonderful yourself, by the way, Princess Edwards." He winked before opening up the passenger side door to Morty. "Your carriage, my dear."
I grunted noncommittally, but found my legs moving of their own accord. The inside smelled musky and there were bright yellow smiley face air fresheners hanging from the rearview mirror. I relaxed a bit, the worn leather seats surprisingly comfortable.
Eli slipped into the driver's seat with ease. He pulled an ancient-looking seatbelt over his torso, and had to wiggle it into place. I mimicked him, surprised when it didn't take me too long to hear the click of the seatbelt securing itself.
"See? You two will get along just fine," Eli smiled happily. "Morty's unreliable, but I love him." He patted the dashboard affectionately.
"Weirdo," I accused, smiling.
"Are you saying that going through a Goth phase in high school is weird?"
"Phase?" I retorted, reaching over to tug on his black, black pants.
"Oh, Edwards, you have no idea. Back in grade 10 there was eyeliner, and big, goofy headphones I wore around my neck all the time. I rarely even had them plugged in. I just thought they were the greatest accessory." I was giggling, imagining a slightly younger Eli going through the inevitable high school awkwardness.
"I bet you looked good in eyeliner," I chuckled. "It would bring out your eyes." I blushed a little, admitting this.
"Oh, I always look good." Eli scoffed. "What about you, huh?"
"Yeah, I definitely always look good, too."
"Not what I meant, Edwards." He rolled his eyes, but he was wearing the biggest smile. "Surely you weren't always the magnificent, put together model of maturity you are now. Please tell me high school was shit for you, too, or I will truly have lost all faith in the justice of the world."
"Oh please," I huffed. "Of course high school was hell for me. I spent grade nine wearing a Catholic school uniform to my public school, my best friend—though I loved him dearly—was an undiagnosed autistic and not exactly always the best company, and the principle called me a bitch one time because I confronted him with his staggering suckiness." I stuttered over mentioning K.C., my first, real boyfriend. I wasn't sure if Eli and I were at the point of talking comfortably about past relationships.
"That's what you call hell?" Eli scoffed. "It sounds to me like you've always been a badass."
I flushed, pleased by the compliment. "I was still painfully awkward, though. Looking back, I guess it wasn't that terrible, but going through it seemed like the end of the world."
Eli nodded along sympathetically. "I get that. I was diagnosed manic-depressive at the end of grade eleven." His voice was suddenly serious, and each word seemed to carefully drip off his tongue with overwhelming weight. "My highs were really high, and I would feel like I had everything under control, but the next day I'd be cripplingly depressed. Getting out of bed was like its own special torture, the smallest of responsibilities crushed me. And the depression always lasted longer than the mania. Always."
"Eli." His name was a sad sigh leaving my lips.
"Hey, I don't need your pity. I'm fairly stable now. I still have my ups and downs, but my medication regulates me, more or less."
A distant memory suddenly clicked together with the present. "That's why you don't drink!" I practically shouted in his ear, the suddenness of my realization shocking me.
"Excuse me?" Eli laughed, taking advantage of the light we were stopped at so he could look over at me.
"That night at the party: I remember you said something about how you're not supposed to drink, but I was too drunk by that point to ask about it."
"Oh, yeah," Eli nodded, easing Morty into acceleration again.
We fell into a comfortable silence, and I started to watch out the window, realizing I had no idea where we were. "Where are we going, anyway?" I asked, after the buildings started to thin, civilization seeming to fall away bit by bit.
"You'll see soon. I promise we're almost there." Eli smirked.
Shrugging, already along for the ride, I watched as Eli eased Morty onto a dirt path that I would have assumed led to nowhere in particular. "Now might be a bad time to ask, but you're not an axe murder, are you?"
"Come on, Clare. Have some trust in me."
"That's exactly what an axe murder would say," I pointed out cheekily.
Instead of answering me, though, Eli suddenly put Morty in park and turned off his roaring engine. I cocked an eyebrow at him in confusion, but he simply shook his head and go out of the hearse. I heard the back doors open while I struggled to unbuckle myself, and then Eli was opening the door—a picnic basket in hand.
I was about to comment, when Eli handed me an extension cord. I noticed a portable generator tucked under his arm. "Carry this?"
"To my death?" I guessed, beyond confused.
"You still don't trust me, Edwards?" he called, already heading off into the woods.
"I'm following you, aren't I?"
He glanced back to confirm, and then paused to let me catch up. After shifting the picnic basket to his other hand, he gently took mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Lucky me." His eyes were sparkling.
I melted, leaning into him as much as I could without throwing us off balance.
And then, after a few minutes of tumultuous journey through the trees, we stumbled upon a clearing: wildflowers and lush, green grass taking over for the weedy dirt and bumpy roots of trees. Just off to the right was a crumbling structure, only one wall still completely intact, the debris of the eroding, grey brick reaching out to the vegetation in desperation. Vines and moss had taken over the structure in some places while water damage and various marks of nature scarred it in others. At the highest point of the dilapidated, once-building was a circular window, an intricate pattern of iron just barely surviving.
"I think it was a church, once," Eli interrupted my awed staring, placing a light kiss on the top of my head. "I thought you might appreciate it."
"How did you find this place?" I asked as he disengaged from me, taking the extension cord with him. The sun had just gone down, leaving the world in an opalescent grey, and I couldn't really tell what Eli was fiddling with just past the edge of one of the crumbling walls.
"I had some tough times last year, and I would drive around to calm down. Kind of like getting lost on purpose. And one day I came across this place. I like to come back every now and then. It's weirdly serene. There!" he suddenly exclaimed, and then a bunch of tiny, white lights turned on. Eli had strung them across some tree branches and parts of the wall, creating an overhang of soft, glowing light.
"You did this for me?" I asked.
"Big romantic gesture, remember?" Eli teased, walking toward me slowly. Suddenly, I was aware that my heart was trapped in my throat, and my stomach was twisting in a not-unpleasant way. He was looking at me like…like nothing had ever mattered to him more—soft and intense. "You're special, Clare Edwards. And you deserve to be treated accordingly." He placed his hands just above my waist, tugging me close to him. I let my hands drift up his arms to his shoulders, and we just stood there for a moment, looking at each other.
I didn't know what to say that would let him know exactly what I was feeling in that moment. So I didn't say anything. I steadily returned his gaze, hoping he could read everything in my eyes.
A huge smile grew slowly across his features. "So, are you hungry? I brought a dorm-market smorgasbord."
"That sounds promising," I teased and followed Eli closer to the center of the crumbling church where he had dropped the picnic basket. He pulled out a few blankets, smoothing the largest comforter onto the ground before plopping down and unloading the rest of the basket. He pulled out a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, some sushi from a tiny cooler, iced tea, a case of strawberries, and a bad of dried green beans.
I had just taken my first strawberry when Eli got that dangerously sexy look in his eye again. "So…about that Catholic school girl uniform you mentioned earlier."
I groaned, shoving his shoulder. "I promise you that it was not at all sexy. So stop making those eyes at me."
"I highly doubt that," he waggled his eyebrows.
"So easily excited, Goldsworthy," I teased. "I haven't even told you about the vibrator I was caught with."
His mouth actually dropped open in astonishment and what I assumed was arousal. "Elaborate immediately!"
"Down boy," I chuckled, enjoying the effect I was having on him. "There isn't actually much of a story. I found it at a teacher's house, and got caught snooping before I had the chance to put it back. I had no idea what it was even for at the time, but I knew enough to figure my mom would have a heart attack if she found it in my room." Eli was hanging on my every word, a huge grin on his face as he took bites from a PB &J. "So, being the awkward kid I was, I toted it around in my school bag for a few days."
"No way," Eli challenged. He had reclined against the stone wall and was watching me intently.
"Oh, yes. I did. And on the third day it was in my bag, someone kicked it on their way up to the board in math class; the teacher thought it was a phone. I told him it wasn't, but I guess he had to make sure because of school policy. Anyway, I was absolutely mortified when he pulled it out and I couldn't answer him when he asked me what it was."
"Oh, I just hate when teachers ask questions that they would obviously know the answer to." Eli scowled amiably.
I laughed and grabbed a sandwich for myself. "Yeah, well, I was sent to the principle—the same one who called me a bitch later in the year—and he called in my mom. We had a really awkward conference in an empty classroom, and I had to keep explaining that I didn't know what the vibrator did and hadn't used it on school grounds, blah blah blah. Afterward, my mom was actually really cool about answering some of the questions I had." I got quiet, remembering how staggeringly uncomfortable she had been the entire time. But she had gotten through it, for me. And in the end, the conversation had only made us closer.
I missed my mom. Finishing off my sandwich, I leaned into Eli's side. Without even thinking about it, he put his arm around my shoulders and tugged me tighter against him. "So what happened to the vibrator?" he asked after a few long moments.
"Oh. Well, the principle actually took it with him when he left the room. I honestly have no idea what happened to it."
"Well that's quite the tale you have there, Edwards."
"Now it's your turn."
"I don't have anything from high school quite as colorful as that, but I did have something in mind…."
I sat up, attentive. The suggestion in his voice had me thinking that this was the night he would tell me about the scar on his arm, but when he started rooting through the picnic basket I became confused.
When he leaned back into position he held up two things for my observation. The first was a package of raw cookie dough. The second was a tattered, well-loved copy of Breakfast of Champions by Vonnegut. "Would you risk salmonella poisoning with me while I read to you, Clare Edwards?"
My disappointment quickly faded away into excitement. I had just been telling Eli the other day that Breakfast of Champions was by far my favorite Vonnegut novel, and that I had been meaning to read it again soon. "I want nothing more!" I clapped excitedly, ripping into the package of cookie dough before settling under Eli's arm again.
He snatched a square of the dough, swallowed quickly, and then cleared his throat. "This is a tale of a meeting of two lonesome, skinny, fairly old white men on a planet which was dying fast," he began.
I closed my eyes, listening to the way his voice navigated the words easily, like they were old friends meeting up for a familiar adventure. The soft, decisive cadences of Eli's voice lulled me in, and I swore I could have listened to him read under the soft light in his magical place every moment for the rest of my life. It was like tasting true contentment: a mix of light, sugary cookie dough and the satirical bitterness of the words of one genius being read by a boy who knew the sorrows of the world only too well.
###
"Mom, it's Clare," I sighed, frustrated to be getting her voicemail again. "I just have a lot I want to catch up on. Please give me a call back. I love you." I snapped the phone shut.
"She's still not answering, huh?" Imogen implored from her place on her bed, monologue books covering every inch of her comforter.
Imogen's last class of the day had been cancelled, and I was done for the day, so we were hanging out in the room together. "Apparently not. Why do I get the feeling she's avoiding me?"
"Maybe because she is," Imogen shrugged. "If there is one thing that acting really forces you to do, it's trust your instincts. If they scream at you, pay attention."
I sighed. "You're really insightful, Imogen."
"It's a blessing and a curse," she agreed. "It's especially horrifying considering my nemesis with tact."
I laughed, digging my Physics book out of my bag. I opened up to the homework problems due next Tuesday, trying to be studious. I gave up after a few minutes of reading over the first story problem gave me a headache.
"So what did you do last night?" I asked.
Imogen lit up. "Adam Torres came over and asked me to dinner. We shared chicken fingers and fries and a pizza, and then he walked me home and he gave me a goodnight kiss and it was magical!" All of Imogen's words came out in a rush, as if she had been just barely holding them in: waiting for me to ask.
I brightened. "Imogen, that's wonderful. You two make such a cute couple."
"We do, don't we." Imogen seemed to be talking to herself. "He's not like any guy I've ever liked. Adam Torres is special."
"No arguments here," I grinned. I couldn't wait to ask Adam about what had happened. He deserved to be happy, and I was glad he finally made his move.
"What about you, Clare Edwards? How did the big date go?"
"It was amazing." I couldn't help the dreamy quality in my voice.
"You were out quite late." Imogen waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Nothing like that happened." I rolled my eyes at her, but couldn't help the light flush of blood in my cheeks. "He was reading to me. We lost track of time."
Imogen gasped, her eyes going comically wide. "Clare Edwards, that is so romantic."
"Yeah," I tried to keep my voice nonchalant. "It is."
"Oh, you two are perfect for each other. Never stop dating!" Imogen plead, clasping her hands together in a position of begging. The she started to sing, "Caaaaaan you feel the looooove tonight."
I laughed, turning back to my Physics book. I honestly had no idea how to respond, so I just listened to Imogen sing while I read over the story problem one more time.
###
A couple hours later, I received a text from Eli inviting me out for a coffee before our now-ritual Thursday night dinner with Adam. He apparently had something serious to talk to me about.
I found him at The Dot, staring pensively at a notebook. "Should I be worried about your caffeine intake?" I asked jokingly, gesturing to the two full mugs on the table.
"One of them is for you, fool." He smirked at me, closing his journal and tucking the pen into the spiral. "How was your day?"
I shrugged. "Pretty uneventful. Mom's still not answering her phone. Oh, and," I paused, grinning like an idiot, "Imogen and Adam totally went out on a date."
Eli perked up, the smirk more pronounced. "Alright, Adam! I wonder why he didn't tell me…." Eli trailed off, looking deeply consumed for a moment.
"How is that, by the way?"
Eli shook his head as of to rattle it back to reality. "What?"
"Living with Adam. You had your first night together, right?"
"Yeah. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
I furrowed my brow. "Okay…shoot."
"I swear I didn't do it on purpose," Eli started, blushing and flustered. "I'm still used to where I keep my stuff, we had a late night, and I had my early 8:15 creative writing class. So I accidentally went into one of the drawers I had cleaned out for Adam, and…I found a box of tampons."
I stalled. I didn't know what I had been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been that. "Um, okay. There could be a lot of explanations for that," I pointed out.
"I guess," Eli allowed. "But I really can't think of any. What if there's something he's not telling us?"
I thought about it. "Do you think we should ask him about it?"
"I really want to, but at the same time, it might be obtrusive. Plus, if the two of us confront him, it might feel like an attack. Honestly, Clare, I don't know what to do. It makes me feel a little sick that he doesn't feel like he can trust us."
I reached out to squeeze Eli's hand. "We really don't know what this means. I think we shouldn't jump to conclusions. Adam is our best friend. We'll talk to him. Simple as that."
He squeezed back, but I could feel the way his hand quivered just the tiniest bit. For some reason, Eli was really on edge. "Yeah, okay."
I drained my mug of coffee. "Are you ready to go upstairs?" I asked, glancing at my watch. "Adam should be here in a few minutes."
He nodded and gathered his things, and we made our way to our usual table. Adam was already there, waiting. "Guess what?" He was beaming.
I couldn't help myself. The conversation with Eli momentarily forgotten, I jumped up and down, clapping my hands: "You asked Imogen out!"
Adam's face fell, but it couldn't stay that way for long. "She told you, didn't she? Did she sound like she would go on a second date with me?"
"Oh, definitely," I assured him, giving him a huge hug. "She had a great time."
Adam demanded that I regurgitate the conversation word for word, so I indulged him as we stood in line for the Asian stir fry place. Eli stood by, barely listening, his face faraway again.
By the time we got our food and sat down, it was painfully obvious that Eli wasn't actually present.
Adam poked him with his fork. "Dude, you haven't said a word. What gives? Please tell me you're not having second thoughts about breaking it off with Imogen."
"Hey!" I protested.
Eli shook his head, offering a miserable attempt at a grin. "Nah, I'm definitely pleased with the current female company."
I stuck my tongue out at them. "The 'current female company' is right here, boys."
Adam chuckled and turned back to Eli. "Seriously, what's wrong with you?"
"I just have a lot on my mind," Eli muttered.
"Dude, I know what you found in my drawer this morning. You totally didn't fold the shirt you accidentally took out."
Eli's face went comically pale. "Oh, yeah." There were a few minutes of awkward silence in which Adam raised a questioning eyebrow at me and I nodded, letting him know I was caught up. Finally, Eli managed, "So what's up with that?"
Adam sighed, placing both palms on the table. "Usually, when I tell people this, the reaction is almost always some kind of freaking out. But I trust you two to ask any questions you have instead of burying your head in the sand and pretending I don't exist because you don't understand who I am." He let that sink in, meeting and holding our gazes so we would know the gravity with which he spoke.
I had no idea where he was going with this, but I loved Adam. "It's a deal," I promised. Eli nodded.
"Okay, well…here goes nothing. I am a FTM trans*. I've known something was off about me since I was in middle school, but I didn't act on it until high school. I haven't had surgery or anything, but I'm hoping someday. So, yeah…talk to me." Adam blushed a deep shade of red, poorly disguised panic in his eyes as he waited for Eli and me to say anything.
I didn't want to prolong Adam's discomfort, but I had to take a few moments to process. Eli was nodding dumbly, looking pensive again.
Finally, Eli broke the silence. "Well, it definitely explains a few things. Thanks for telling us."
I chimed in. "You are the bravest person I have ever met," I smiled softly and rumpled Adam's hair.
"That's it?" Adam asked incredulously. "You guys are just, like, okay with this?"
"Well…yeah," Eli laughed, picking up his fork. "I'm not an expert on the subject or anything, but I've done my fair share of reading about gender and sexual fluidity."
"Seconded," I chuckled. "We love you, Adam, and everything you told us does nothing to change that."
Adam made a sound somewhere between an exhale and a laugh. A tear or two leaked out of his eyes. "That was totally anticlimactic. You two suck!"
Eli rolled his eyes. "Would it make you feel better if we got all broody and questioned if we ever really knew you at all?"
"Was that not what you were doing, like, five minutes ago?" Adam retorted sassily.
"See, proof that we know each other all too well."
Adam started crying in earnest, trying to hide his face. "Holy crap, I love you two a fucking lot."
I couldn't help it; I started to cry, too. "Are we going to hug now, or are you two too manly?"
"Fuck that," Adam set down his fork and stood up. "Bring it in."
And we did, the three of us grasping on to each other in one of the most crowded places on the university campus—three misfits happy to have found a place to belong on such a congested world.
###
Later that evening, while Imogen was out with her theater friends and Eli was at work at the record store downtown, I tried my mom once more. Finally, she answered.
"Clare, sweetie, hello." She sounded tired, but not the kind that goes away with sleep.
"Mom! I've been trying to reach you all week. Is everything okay?"
"Oh, of course, dear. Everything is fine: things have just been hectic at work. I've taken on some more hours."
"Mom, please don't lie to me anymore. I'm not a little kid. You can talk to me about what's going on with you and dad. In fact, I want you to talk to me; I want to be there for you."
"Clare, there is nothing going on."
I didn't know why it hadn't occurred to me before: Mom wasn't lying to me. First and foremost, she was lying to herself. "Oh, okay. I have a lot of work to do tonight. Will you call me tomorrow?"
"Certainly. I love you. Have a good night."
"You too, Mom. I love you."
When the line went dead, and I stared at the blank screen for a moment, warring with myself. Finally, though, with my heart thumping in my chest, I dialed my father's cell number.
He picked up on the fifth ring, just as I was resigning myself to leave a message. "Clare-bear! What a pleasant surprise."
"Do you love Mom?"
He stuttered for a moment, stumbling over words. "Where is this coming from?"
"If you don't love her anymore, did you ever?"
"Of course I loved your mother, Clare. She was the shining star of my life."
Even if he didn't realize it, I was hyperaware of the past tense. I started to cry, trying to keep my breath steady so he wouldn't hear.
"Then you owe it to her to leave. Stop sleeping with other women behind her back, talk to her, and then give her the chance to be happy without you." I was proud that my voice stayed stern and strong while my entire body shook from the overload of adrenaline.
"I-Clare," my dad's voice shook. "It's not that simple."
"Isn't it? Darcy and I are both out of the house. You don't have to stay strong and together for us." The words tasted bitter on the way out. "But you do owe it to all three of us to prove that you are the father we once knew. Be the strong, caring man I think you are. Prove me right. Do the hard thing because it's the right thing to do."
He was quiet for a long while. "Okay, Clare."
"No, Dad, it's really not. But it might be eventually." I hung up on him, not waiting for his excuses or apologies. I couldn't stomach them.
Instead, numbly, I took a shower, put on my pajamas, crawled into bed, and cried myself to sleep wondering if I had singlehandedly just shattered everything that had mattered to me.
