Been Here All Along

by Sandy Hall

  “I don’t know about that,” I say.

  “We’ll talk about it. We don’t have to make any decisions tonight,” she says.

  “The other thing is…” I start to say as our food is delivered.

  Everyone is distracted by their food for a few minutes, and my mother tsks when Ezra rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his other tattoos.

  “You were about to say something else, weren’t you, Gideon?” my dad says. “You might want to get it out now, before your mother starts nitpicking about your brother’s tattoos again.”

  “Yeah, yes. Um, the other thing is that I’m kind of dating Kyle.”

  This news barely seems to faze them.

  “That’s so nice for you boys, honey,” my mom says.

  “Makes sense, you’ve always gotten along really well,” my dad says.

  I smile down at my chicken parmigiana and just hope that my mother was kidding about having a party.

  seventeen

  Kyle

  On Thursday morning I have the big meeting about my “school problems,” as my mom has been calling them. So instead of going to second period, I go down to the guidance office, where my parents are waiting for me along with Ms. Gupta, my guidance counselor, Mr. Nelson, and this other guy, “Call me Craig,” who works for the school district to test kids with problems.

  Ms. Gupta starts the meeting by describing my “problem areas” and then launches into the results from my testing. They all seem to agree I probably have dyslexia but not necessarily where I see letters backward, which is what everyone assumes dyslexia is like, just where it changes how I read and process things.

  Apparently everything I’ve ever known about learning disabilities has been wrong. Because they don’t actually make you stupid or unable to learn. They just put obstacles in your brain that make things harder.

  It’s still really complicated, but it doesn’t actually feel like anything to be ashamed of.

  My parents do most of the talking up to a certain point, but then people start talking about me like I’m not there. I try to pay better attention so I can speak on my own behalf, and that helps.

  “How did he get so far in school without anyone catching it?” my mom asks. “I’m not pointing fingers at all. I should have been aware he was having trouble. I’m his mother. And I was aware, to a point. We started working harder at home to make sure he stayed caught up with his class. But I just thought he was kind of a flighty kid.”

  “He’s gotten very good at compensating,” Craig says. “He works hard at making up for his deficiencies by being organized. At least most of the time. But his writing is scattered and his comprehension just seems off for a kid who is obviously intelligent. I think his potential has been limited by the obstacles he has with reading.”

  I swallow and look away. It’s hard to hear someone talk about you like that. Complimenting you in some ways, but talking about what’s wrong with you in the next sentence.

  I take a deep breath. “I also used to be in classes with my best friend, Gideon, like in elementary and middle school. It’s not like he did my homework for me, but he would explain things to me the way I needed them to be explained. But now we don’t have classes together like that. ’Cause he’s basically AP everything.”

  “I have a feeling you learned some methods during those years for how to rethink and reorganize your brain, in part thanks to Gideon,” Ms. Gupta says. “He’s a nice kid, but I do want you to realize that you’ve done a lot of this on your own.”

  “I guess I don’t understand how I have dyslexia when I don’t have trouble with letters and stuff. Like, I know the whole Elvish alphabet.”

  “The Elvish alphabet,” Call Me Craig says with a grin teasing his lips.

  “Yeah, Gideon and I pass notes in Elvish.”

  I can feel my mom rolling her eyes, but then Mr. Nelson says something really awesome.

  “You know, it’s interesting,” he says. “But I’ve read a lot about how much knowing a second language can help kids with dyslexia. It never said anything about the language having to be real.”

  “So this is just how it is for me?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Mr. Nelson says.

  I hold back all the questions I have about next year and college and the rest of my life. Thinking about it makes my heart pound. I have enough to deal with at the moment.

  By the end of the conversation it’s decided that I need to take a couple of tests next week, and then there will be more meetings and further discussions and eventually maybe I’ll know exactly what kind of learning disability I have.

  Leaving the meeting, I somehow feel both better and worse.

  Better because it wasn’t as scary as I was expecting, but worse because soon enough everyone is going to know about me. Like, they’ll have to tell my teachers and I’ll have to tell my friends.

  My day goes downhill from there.

  Ruby’s at the lunch table with her new boyfriend, Josh Barton, just as she had threatened last week. Of course this is the day that Gideon has a meeting during lunch, so it’s not even like I can go sit with him and Sawyer and Maddie. I take the chair next to Buster after I go through the food line and zone out while stabbing at my school-issued meat loaf. The table buzzes around me, but I have plenty of things to think about.

  For instance.

  Josh Barton is a douche canoe of the highest order.

  He’s the kind of guy who wears his varsity jacket even when it’s ninety degrees out. He always smells vaguely of wet dog and sweat. And he spits when he talks.

  But for some reason he’s the most popular guy in the senior class. I will never understand the high school hierarchy.

  It makes sense that Ruby would be dating him now, seeing as how she’s basically the most popular girl in the senior class. She was slumming with me for the past six months. It’s a good thing she doesn’t know I have a learning disability, or else she would realize how deep her slumming went.

  I would hate to ruin her image with my issues.

  I know I have no right to be jealous of her and Josh. And even though it’s obvious that she and I aren’t together anymore, there aren’t any rumors swarming about our messy breakup, and from what I can tell, most people think it was mutual.

  With ten minutes left in the period, I get up to throw my garbage out and decide not to go back to the table. It’s just too much. I’d rather go wait for Gideon outside the student activity room and at least get to see him for a couple of minutes before we have to head to separate classes again.

  I set off in that direction, feeling lighter.

  Ruby

  I wish I could let this go, this whole thing with Kyle, but it bugs the crap out of me. I follow him out of the cafeteria at a safe distance, telling Josh I need to get something from my locker and that I’ll meet him in study hall in a few minutes.

  Gideon comes out of the student activity room just as Kyle’s about to open the door, and they do this goofy, awkward smiling thing at each other.

  Neither of them has the balls to show much affection at school, which is probably a good thing, because I would want to wring their necks.

  The bell rings and they part ways, never even noticing that I was right here, that’s how up each other’s asses they are. Gideon squeezes Kyle’s arm before he walks away, and Kyle stands there making heart eyes at him as he leaves.

  I decide to take my opening.

  “Hey, Kyle,” I say, approaching him from the side.

  “Oh, hey, Ru.”

  How dare he call me Ru? I keep my anger off my face.

  “I hope lunch wasn’t too weird for you or whatever,” I say innocently. “You seemed kind of upset.”

  “Um, well … It’s weird. But I figure it’ll be weird for you to see me and Gideon together, too. So no harm, no foul, right?”

  “Right, just wanted to make sure,” I say, continuing my innocent act. “You just had a look on your face that made me think you weren’t doing s
o well.”

  He seems kind of surprised. “Oh. I had a … I had a…” He pauses, collecting his thoughts and looking at the spot where Gideon was standing moments ago. “It’s nothing.”

  “Trouble in paradise already?” I ask, teasing him.

  He rolls his eyes, finally seeing through me, I think. Thank God, I was starting to think he was a bigger idiot than I ever imagined.

  “No, Ruby, everything is fine with Gideon. I was having a little trouble with one of my classes, but we’re working it out.”

  “Seems like having trouble in school is something you’d talk to your girlfriend about,” I say, my anger rising again.

  “I did mention it to you, a couple weeks ago. About having to talk to Ms. Gupta?”

  “Oh.”

  “I wasn’t really ready to talk about the details. I’m still not.”

  “Are you failing?” I ask.

  “Well, no. I mean … Kind of. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  I study him now, trying to figure out what half-truth he just told me. It’s there and I’m sure I could pull the rest of it from him, but then the late bell rings.

  “Ah, crap,” he says. “I gotta go. See you, Ruby.”

  And like that, he’s gone. But there’s definitely something up with Kyle. Maybe I should make it my mission to find out. Because just think of it, I could have dirt on Kyle and dirt on Gideon and then …

  I shake my head at myself.

  And then nothing.

  Who cares?

  Graduation is less than two months away. Why am I even entertaining any thoughts about game playing?

  If I hadn’t left my phone at home this morning, I would delete Gideon’s lists right this second. I make a mental note to do that later after school.

  I turn down the next hallway and head off in the direction of my actual boyfriend.

  He’s not the brightest guy on earth, but he’s definitely hot. Except for when he gets excited and spits when he talks. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s an endearing quality.

  It’s not.

  eighteen

  Kyle

  I ring Gideon’s doorbell at seven on Saturday night.

  I had this awful premonition that for the first time in the history of hopping the fence I’d end up ripping my favorite jeans in the process. Hence the front door instead of the back.

  The door swings open and Ezra stands there. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to be intimidating.

  “I’m guessing you’re here to see my little brother,” he says. He’s doing that thing guys do, where they cross their arms and flex and then use their fists to kind of prop up their biceps and make them look bigger.

  “Um, yeah,” I say, standing at my full height, which is a solid four or five inches taller than Ezra. I can be intimidating, too.

  “What are your intentions?” he asks.

  I raise my eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

  “Where do you see yourself in five years?” he asks. And then he bursts out laughing before punching me in the arm. “I’m just playing with you.”

  He moves out of the way of the door and heads toward the stairs as Gideon comes racing down them.

  “Just make sure you have him back by ten,” Ezra calls from the top of the stairs.

  “I’m really sorry about him,” Gideon says, shaking his head.

  “No worries,” I say.

  “I thought we were going to meet outside.”

  “Yeah, well, my mom kept looking at me and I was getting antsy,” I explain.

  “Yeah, my mom was doing the same thing until she got on the phone with my aunt Gail. Then it got a little worse, because I had to listen to her talk about me.” He shoots an annoyed look toward the back of the house, where I can hear his mom’s muffled voice and laughter.

  “My mom offered to let me borrow her car,” Gideon says, holding up a set of keys.

  “Awesome. It’ll be nice to drive in a car that doesn’t smell like old coffee.”

  We get into his mom’s car and sit for a second.

  “Where are we going?” he asks.

  “Oh, um … I guess we never did decide that, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I didn’t eat dinner,” he says. “I was kind of nervous and I wasn’t sure what we were doing and my mom made meat loaf and I wasn’t in the mood.”

  I smile at his nervous babble. “I didn’t eat either.”

  “I feel like we’re supposed to do something different than we normally would?” he says, his voice holding a questioning note.

  “I don’t even know what we usually do, though,” I say.

  “Well, the last time we hung out just me and you, we watched Lord of the Rings.”

  “Yeah,” I say, wiping my palms on my jeans.

  “And you cried,” Gideon says.

  “And you tried to kiss me.”

  “I mean, I didn’t really try. We just had a moment.”

  “Sure, sure, whatever you say.”

  “This time I’ll try harder,” he promises.

  “Good, glad we got that out of the way.”

  “Where do people even go on dates? I’ve kind of, you know, never been on one.” He looks so sad to admit it that I want to hug him. At least, that’s what the new boyfriend in me wants to do. The longtime best friend kind of wants to tease him. But I hold back that impulse.

  “Well, Ruby and I mostly hung out with you guys or babysat her brothers and sister. Or went to school stuff,” I say.

  “I guess I don’t really know what dating looks like in terms of our friendship?” he says, the worry in his voice getting stronger.

  “Listen,” I say, taking his hand. “Just because we didn’t come up with some perfect first-date plan together doesn’t mean we’re a failed couple or anything.”

  “So you really do want to do this? With me?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  He lets out a sigh and nods. “I don’t know if this sounds like anything worthwhile, but I saw a flyer earlier saying that they’re showing The Lion King in the park behind the pool tonight. They were going to show it at the community center, but since it’s been so nice lately they made a last-minute change to outside.”

  “We could go pick up some food or something,” I say.

  “There’s a blanket in the trunk.”

  “Maybe I should grab some sweatshirts from my car.”

  “Why do you have multiple sweatshirts in your car?”

  “Because I never bother to bring them inside?”

  “So you have multiple dirty sweatshirts in your car?”

  “They might be of dubious cleanliness, but I figure if I just get them from my car, then neither of us have to face our mothers again.”

  “Fair point,” Gideon says, rubbing his chin. “I would appreciate it if you found me one that doesn’t smell too bad.”

  After sniffing through a pile of hoodies, I get back into Gideon’s car and we set off in the direction of the sandwich place, where we each get an Italian sub, a bag of chips, and a cupcake.

  When we get to the park, Gideon pauses by the car with a worried expression.

  “What?” I ask.

  He swallows heavily and nods toward the field up ahead. “I’m a little worried about what’s going to happen when the people out there realize we’re together on what’s pretty obviously a date.”

  It’s a valid concern. Neither of us have really ever been out in the way that people normally associate with “being out.”

  “We can do whatever makes you comfortable,” I say, putting my hand on his arm. “We don’t have to be really obvious or anything. We can just be two friends, hanging out on a blanket, sharing a sandwich, and watching The Lion King. Two bros on the town.”

  He sucks in a huge breath and then blows the air out slowly.

  “And we don’t have to do this. We could just go home. It doesn’t matter.”

  He nods.

&n
bsp; “But people around here are pretty accepting in general. Remember those two guys who were seniors when we were freshmen? They were out all the time, holding hands, putting their arms around each other. No one said a thing.”

  “They did get their gym clothes flushed down the toilet.”

  “That’s true,” I say. “Some soggy gym clothes are worth it to hang out with you.”

  “Kyle, that is a really beautiful and cheesy sentiment,” he says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “But honestly, how can you be so sure about all this?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I figure one of us has to be. You’ll pick up the slack somewhere else in the relationship. Isn’t that kind of how it’s always been with us?”

  He swallows again and then stands up straighter, holding our food in one hand and the sweatshirt I loaned him in the other. I take the sweatshirt from him and bundle it in with the blanket and my jacket before taking his hand.

  “Is this okay?” I ask, gesturing to our hands.

  “Yeah, I think I need that.”

  We take a seat pretty far back from the screen. There are kids running around in front of the screen, back and forth between blankets from one family to another, obviously all playing some kind of game. We watch them while we eat our dinner because the movie doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, but they’re just as entertaining.

  No one pays any attention to us until one little kid, maybe four or five, runs across our blanket and trips.

  Gideon leans forward quickly to help him up. “You okay?” he asks.

  The kid looks at Gideon with wide eyes and then runs in the other direction.

  “You’re welcome!” Gideon calls after him.

  I shake my head and try to suppress a laugh.

  “Kids today have no manners,” he says, turning to me.

  “You’re kind of adorable, you know?”

  He blushes, so I lean over and kiss his cheek, hoping to make him blush even more.

  When the movie starts, all the kids quiet down and give their attention to the animals up on the screen. I ball up the extra blanket I grabbed for us to use as a pillow. I lie back on it and then Gideon lays his head on my chest.