Forever for a Year

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Forever for a Year Page 28

by B. T. Gottfred


  “Yes … you’re right. Your mom gave you lots of talent, and brains, and passion. But she needs strength from you. I’m sorry about that.”

  “How can you stay with her?”

  “I love her.”

  “Well, she doesn’t love you!” I said.

  That smacked across his face. Then he breathed for a second and said, “I’m not a perfect husband either.”

  And—f-ing unbelievable—I saw it in his eyes. Man. He had done the same to her. Before? Before she tried to kill herself? Or after? Now? “When?” I asked.

  “What you think you know, you don’t. You shouldn’t have to know any of this. But you do, and we have to deal with it.”

  “Kids know everything. You both suck.”

  “Don’t use that language.”

  “AAAAH!” I yelled out, and the whole restaurant looked at us and I felt so fucking stupid, so I just started mumbling in this whisper that didn’t even sound like me, “Aw, Dad … God … you tell me that … you tell me that … and you and Mom … my language … you’re worried about me swearing … I don’t know, Dad. You’re worried about me saying words, and you two do all this crap.…” Then I stopped talking. And he didn’t talk. He always filled silence. Always. He could be quiet for days, but he always filled those strange silences. Not today. Not now. The pizza came. We ate. We watched SportsCenter on the TV above the bar. He kept opening his mouth, had something he wanted to say. But nothing. Nothing.

  We got back in his car, started driving home. Then he pulled over into the parking lot of a closed bank.

  “I’m sorry, Trev. Really sorry. You’re right. I’m going to be better. Your mom is going to try and be better. I promise. Let us try. Give us that?”

  Can’t say anything to that besides “Okay.”

  * * *

  That night I was super tired. So tired. But my brain kept obsessing about Carolina and wishing I could kiss her and have sex and spend forever happy with her. I couldn’t stop, could I? I was so mad at her. So mad. So goddamn mad. But I loved her. I loved her so much. And if I moved away or I died, maybe I’d be able to keep myself from wanting to be with her. But she’s in school and she’s a five-minute drive away and I had to be with her again. I had to. I just had to beat the shit out of Alexander Taylor first.

  81

  Carolina attends a fight

  Kendra told me at lunch on Tuesday.

  She said, “Trevor and Alexander are going to fight after school.”

  “Really?” I said, and, oh my gosh, I was so sad and excited at the same time. Like, I can’t believe I hurt Trevor and I can’t believe I kissed stupid Alexander and it was my fault and I’m a horrible person … but also, like, two boys would fight over me? ME? In junior high, boys wouldn’t even look at me, and now two boys were going to fight because of me.

  And then I decided that as amazing as that was for the dumb girl in my head who wants to be important, it’s a very bad thing for the person I’m supposed to be. You know, the nice, mature, good person.

  So I started texting both Alexander and Trevor, pleading both not to fight. Alexander texted me back right away, saying he wouldn’t fight Trevor if I kissed him “for real” next time. I think he meant sex or a hand job or something that made me want to throw up. But I almost said yes because I didn’t want Trevor to get hurt. But kissing Alexander because he tricked me was how I ruined my life in the first place, so I texted back to him, “I hope you lose.”

  Trevor didn’t respond to any of my texts, and when I tried to talk to him in the hall, he just walked by like I wasn’t even there. Worse. Like he would get a disease if I touched him or if he even looked at me.

  * * *

  The fight was supposed to take place in the parking lot of Riverbend Community Center Pool. It was closed because it was winter, so there would be no grown-ups there. Kendra and I got a ride with some sophomore she knew because of her mom. It seemed like the whole school was going because all these cars drove in a big line, and people were honking, and leaning out the windows and screaming just to scream.

  There was already a big circle of people there when we arrived. It wasn’t the whole school, I exaggerated again, closer to, like, fifty people. But that’s still a lot to watch a fight between two boys fighting over me.

  Trevor was standing there, in the center of the circle, looking at the ground. He was so still. So intense. I swear, he was like a monk. He seemed like he couldn’t see or hear anything except his own mind.

  Alexander Taylor wasn’t there, and I hoped he wouldn’t show up. That would be the best. Trevor would be the hero because he was brave enough to fight but he also wouldn’t have to fight. See, Trevor is tall and strong, I think, for being a freshman and kind of thin, but Alexander Taylor is on the swim team and he has very broad shoulders and he’s a junior, so he’s thicker and probably has more experience fighting because he’s an asshole. I never swear. But he is. I hate him. I feel so disgusting thinking about him. It’s not like he molested me. I didn’t say no. I didn’t run away. I even said I’d kiss him. But the way he did it, the way he did everything, was so wrong. Boys who trick girls into doing sex stuff with them are the worst boys in the universe. They are gross and stupid and so uncool. I know I screwed up. I know. I should have been smarter. But that doesn’t mean Alexander Taylor isn’t a worse person than me. Because he is.

  So … just when people started whispering that Alexander Taylor wasn’t going to show up, these five SUVs arrive, including that dumb black 4Runner, and out of all these trucks jump twenty juniors and seniors from the swim team. All wearing their team blue-and-gold sweatpants and jackets. Oh. My. Gosh. This was SO unfair! Trevor had Licker and two other freshman basketball players and then Aaron and Tor from the cross-country team. And they were all, like, half the size of these swim people. (Henry and Jake were there, but I knew they would never defend Trevor because you can tell when someone’s a wimp inside even when he acts tough outside.) So Trevor only had, like, five people and they were thin and young. And Alexander had TWENTY friends. Twenty big upperclassmen.

  “Trevor!” I yelled because I didn’t want him to die. But he didn’t look at me. He was about to die and he hated me so much that he still wouldn’t look at me. Henry mocked me by yelling, “Trevor,” in a girl’s voice. I don’t care. I know he’s just trying to be funny because he knows he’s a wuss.

  * * *

  After Alexander Taylor moved into the circle and the whole swim team pushed people aside to form this wall behind him, people started chanting, “FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT.”

  Alexander paced, back and forth, one step toward Trevor, then back toward his friends; he kept smiling but you could tell he was nervous. He didn’t want to leave his friends and go toward the center.

  Trevor still hadn’t moved from the middle. Not even one step. It was actually freaky. Like he was possessed. Who wouldn’t move? Who wouldn’t at least look up or look back? OR LOOK AT THE GIRL WHO LOVES YOU? But no, Trevor just stayed so still. So, so, so still I thought maybe he was a statue. Not really. But at least, like, not human. Oh my gosh, Trevor is so weird … and I love him. I love him so much. He’s so different. Look at Alexander, acting all cocky with a million friends, but really he was so nervous and jumpy and boring. He was like five million other boys. But not Trevor. Trevor was so weird and unique and special. Trevor was like this super-spiritual master who could concentrate even when everything around him was crazy. He was so intense. His brain, you could tell just looking at him right now, was so much faster and deeper than anyone else’s. Oh. My. Gosh. Trevor has a fast brain like me. Not that we’re smarter than everyone. What I’m saying is, I didn’t really understand what made Trevor and I love each other until right now, when I saw him so silent and about to get beat up. It’s all the thoughts we don’t tell anyone else. All the thoughts that move so fast through our whole bodies. I should have told him more. I should have told him every time I ever thought of another boy or about my dad or about when I wa
s afraid or bored and everything. We should have just opened up our brains and put all our thoughts out there. Even if those thoughts hurt the other person, we would have been even closer. I wanted that. I wanted that with him. I wanted him to know everything I ever thought and felt and I wanted to know everything he ever thought and felt. Everything, no matter how bad or scary or weird. Everything. Love needs to know everything.

  * * *

  Alexander Taylor yelled out, “You sure you want to fight?”

  Trevor didn’t say anything.

  Alexander yelled again, “Too scared to say anything, freshman?” His swim team friends laughed.

  Trevor still didn’t say anything.

  Alexander then said, “You don’t want to fight. This is a waste of my time. We’re leaving.” Then Alexander turned back toward the trucks.

  Only Trevor finally said something, even though he hadn’t looked up. He didn’t say it. It was like he bellowed it. Just so, so loud you could feel the words hit your chest. Trevor bellowed, “I’M THE ONE STANDING HERE IN THE CENTER, AND YOU’RE THE ONE STANDING BY YOUR FUCKING FRIENDS!”

  * * *

  Oh. Myyyyyyyy. Gosssssshhhhhhh. Trevor was so cool. That was the coolest thing anyone has ever said ever. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. People were laughing at Alexander. Even some of his team. Oh my gosh. Trevor was so amazing. How did he even think to say that? How could he say something so perfect and so cool at the exact right moment? Oh my gosh. This was like a movie. But … wait … if this were a movie, would the audience be rooting for me or against me? I mean, they would definitely be rooting for Trevor, but gosh, was I the bad girl the audience hated for cheating? Oh my gosh, I wasn’t. I kissed another boy because my dad was having sex with Trevor’s mom and Trevor didn’t tell me and I was scared and I made a huge mistake.… Oh, I wanted to be the one they root for too. I did. So I yelled, “I LOVE YOU, TREVOR!” So loud. As loud as Trevor yelled. My gosh. I just had to. And I was crying. I couldn’t even tell if they were happy tears or sad tears. I don’t know. I just loved him so much I had to yell and cry and guess what? GUESS WHAT? He turned. Everyone turned toward me. But most important by a trillion, Trevor turned. And he looked at me. And he smiled. Not a big smile. I don’t even think he moved his lips. But his eyes. I could see the smile in his eyes. Because we’re soul mates, and soul mates can see those things.

  Then Trevor turned back toward Alexander, looking right at him. And Trevor’s eyes were so intense again. Like terrifying. Like he was insane. But I knew he wasn’t. Maybe he was. But I loved him anyway. Maybe I loved him because I was insane too.

  The crowd chanted, “FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT,” again and Alexander Taylor finally took a few steps toward Trevor, though you could tell he didn’t want to go. I wouldn’t either. There was something in Trevor’s eyes that would make the strongest person in the universe scared to fight him, I think.

  Alexander yelled, “You’re dead, freshman!” But it was kind of lame-sounding and then he ran at Trevor and Trevor ran at him, but Trevor crouched low at the last second and, like a football player making a tackle, lowered his shoulder into Alexander’s stomach, wrapped his arms under Alexander’s butt, and then Trevor screamed, “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” like a wild animal, except animals couldn’t make that noise, and then Trevor lifted up for a second and slammed Alexander down into the parking lot cement. Alexander’s head whiplashed against the ground and he cried out. Like really cried out. Like a little boy.

  Alexander held up his hands, saying, “Wait, wait, I hit my head … wait…”

  Trevor screamed another “AAAAAAAHHHHH,” and then he turned and walked away.

  Alexander managed to stand, wobbly, but still trying to be tough. He yelled, “I didn’t say we were finished, freshman!”

  Trevor turned fast, like super fast, like Superman fast, and started charging right at Alexander, only Alexander ran away, ran to his swim team and hid behind them. And everyone laughed. Even all his swim team. And Trevor stopped, turned, found me, and walked right toward me.

  Oh my gosh. It was like a movie star was walking toward me. And those eyes. It was so sexy. I was so excited. You know, excited down there. That had never happened when I had my clothes on. Oh my gosh, this is love. I didn’t say anything; he didn’t say anything. He just grabbed my hand and he started walking across the parking lot, and I went with him, obviously, and I didn’t turn around and he didn’t turn around and we just kept walking and then there was this path and we walked down it and suddenly we were alone. And I tried to look at him and say something, but I was too nervous. I didn’t want to say anything wrong. I know I said Trevor and I should share everything. But that was before, when he was so far away. But now I had him again. He was so close. I couldn’t say or tell him anything that might ruin anything. This was the greatest moment of my life, I just knew it was.

  And then, when were in the middle of some trees, Trevor let go of my hand and collapsed to the ground, right in some mud, and he started hyperventilating and his eyes filled with tears. And my superhero movie star became this shaking mess and I got so confused so fast and, oh, why can’t life be a movie where the hero girl never makes horrible mistakes and the hero boy never hyperventilates in the mud?

  He said, his chest heaving up and down, “I fucking hate you, Carolina.”

  And I almost cried and yelled at him, I don’t even know what I would yell, but instead I sat on the ground next to him and started kissing him. All over his face. His eyes and his tears and ears. I said, “I’m so, so, so sorry, Trevor.”

  “Why…?” he said, but I knew what he was asking.

  “I was mad at you for not telling me about my dad and your mom, I think.”

  “I’ll tell you everything forever, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Just never hurt me ever again, okay?”

  “Never,” I said. “Never, ever, ever.”

  * * *

  A while later, we were both so cold, so we stood up and we walked all the way to his house. His dad was out of town, but Lily and his mom were reading in the living room.

  “I’M SO HAPPY!” Lily screamed and ran and leaped into my arms. Even though it had only been three days since I found out Mrs. Santos was having sex with my dad, it felt like five lifetimes. Plus … I had cheated. I was like her. Gosh. Maybe I would try to kill myself like her someday. But I don’t think so. That sounds so impossible no matter how sad you feel.

  Trevor’s mom said, “You two look cold and dirty. Why don’t you clean up. I’ll take Lily out for pizza. We’ll bring you back a fresh pizza in about an hour. Okay?”

  “But, Mom, let’s wait for them so they can go with!” Lily said.

  “I think they should be alone, Lily,” his mom said.

  “Thanks,” Trevor said. Mrs. Santos took the still-protesting Lily by the hand and led her toward the kitchen and out into the garage.

  * * *

  I followed Trevor up to his room. We went into his bathroom and started kissing and took off each other’s clothes. We got under the hot shower and he was excited and I wanted to have sex with him more than ever in my life and we tried but it was really hard to make the angle work standing up so then we tried to lie down in the tub and I was on bottom and it was super uncomfortable except it was also amazing to be having sex in the shower with the love of my life. We didn’t use a condom. Can you even use condoms in a shower? Duh. Obviously you can. But neither of us would have ever stopped to put one on. We wanted to be together forever, and you can’t stop to put a condom on if you want to be together forever. That makes no sense, I know, but it made sense at the moment to me.

  82

  Trevor passes a test

  Carolina and I are back together.

  It’s great.

  It’s better than any other dimension of existence in which we are broken up or where we had never met.

  But it’s not better than the dimension where she never cheated. I believe her that she didn’t plan on kissing him. Didn�
��t really kiss him back. Didn’t really touch him. I do. Maybe I have to. But I do believe her. Carolina has talked a lot since we were back together about telling each other every single thought that goes through our brains. She said it would prevent me from hiding stuff from her (like our parents’ affair and stuff) and it would prevent her from ever hurting me again. It would be pretty nutty to talk about telling each other every thought and then lie about what happened with Alexander Taylor. So yeah. I believe her. I still hate her sometimes when I think about it. But I believe her.

  So. Yeah. Being with Carolina is better than not being with her. I love her. So fucking much I double over from feeling how much I love her sometimes. But I can feel this really angry voice in my head that wants to yell at her every time I see her. I don’t do it. It goes away after we kiss and I smell her. I’m just saying it’s there. This voice. And I don’t know how I’m going to get rid of it. If there was a way to go to other dimensions, one where Carolina never cheated, I’d go. In a heartbeat. Even if I go to one where she did it but I never found out, I think I’d go. Because knowing she betrayed me feels like it’s never going to become unknown. Never forgotten. Never even made smaller in my head. It’s just going to tick, tick, tick away like a bomb until it explodes. I hope it doesn’t explode. Because I love Carolina so much and if it explodes, it will probably kill us both.

  * * *

  Two weeks after we got back together, I took the driver’s test, passed, and got my license. My dad and I went car shopping and he bought me a Ford Edge. It’s nice. I got a blue one. I always liked black best, but Carolina didn’t want me to get a black truck so I didn’t. I’m super spoiled and lucky. My parents are totally screwed up, but all kids’ parents are probably screwed up and not all kids get a new car for their birthday. I wish I was so cool and strong that I could tell my dad I didn’t want a car. But I’m not.

  Carolina and I drove downtown to celebrate, just the two of us. On the way home, she said she wanted to give me my birthday present but that I couldn’t drive on the highway while she gave it to me. That’s when we pulled off to drive on neighborhood streets without much traffic. She undid her seat belt, leaned over, and unzipped my pants. Eventually I had to pull my pants down. She used her mouth. You know, road head. I had never really thought about it before but now I don’t know if I can ever be in a car with Carolina without thinking about it.

 

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