by Tay Marley
“Ignore him,” I told her, folding a napkin into a triangle.
“Josh, who’s the better kisser?”
Josh turned his palms upward, a sheen of sweat shining under the light.
“Drayton, I do not need to know the answer to that,” I said, a side-on glance expressing my disapproval. “None of us do.”
“I do.”
“Why are we talking about this?” Gabby croaked.
Drayton shrugged. “What else would we talk about?”
“Anything!” Josh cried. “Literally anything else.”
Josh had known Drayton a lot longer than I had, but even I knew that ignoring him was the best way to make him stop. He loved winding people up. He was a child.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Or I’ll assume it’s Dallas.”
“If I say Dallas, I hurt Gabby. If I say Gabby, you’ll chew me out for insulting Dallas.” Josh clenched his jaw and banged a fist on the table. “I can’t win so I’m not answering.”
“Good idea,” Drayton nodded. “Safe.”
“It’s Gabby.” I winked at her, biting another chip loaded with salsa. I chewed and swallowed. “We’ve made out before. I know that it’s her.”
Drayton recoiled, his head whipping between both of us so fast that I expected it to snap. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”
I nudged him with my elbow. He wasn’t done, though. “Should we have a foursome?”
It didn’t even surprise me that he said it. It was the volume at which he said it that might have been responsible for Josh standing up and leaving. Gabby watched him pull the door open, a gust of cold air and the jingle of the bell following.
“I should go.” She stood up, slow and fatigued. “He’s just tired.”
When she was gone, Drayton sighed. “Finally.”
“You did that on purpose?”
“Of course, I did.” He shrugged, settling farther into the seat. He hissed when my shoulder bumped his biceps. “So that we could be alone.”
“We could have left, Dray. Or just told them that we wanted to spend some time alone.”
“Nah,” he grinned. “That was more fun.”
“You don’t really want to have a foursome then?”
“Fuck no. Some couples can do that. Sweet. I couldn’t deal watching someone else put their hands on you. I’d slip and murder them. Why? Do you want to have one?”
“No.”
“Sweet.”
The vibrating on the tabletop clattered the salt dispenser and startled me. Drayton chuckled, pushing the plate away from his reach so that he couldn’t eat any more. I picked up my cell and read the email notification on the screen.
It was from CalArts.
I’d been waiting for this moment since the audition. I’d imagined where I’d be and how I would respond to this email. And now that it was here, I had no idea how to proceed. Drayton leaned over and read the unopened email notification.
“Cheer.” He sat up straighter. “Read it. Babe? Open the email.”
“I’m scared.”
“Should we go somewhere private?”
“No.”
“Well . . .” he sounded apprehensive, cautious, as he shifted beside me. “I’m not sure what else to do here.”
“Open it.” I shoved the cell phone into his hand. “I can’t do it.”
My heart was hammering, pounding so furiously that I began to feel lightheaded.
“Okay.” He started to put in the passcode, his gold thumb ring shimmering in the diner’s lights. Before I even realized that I’d done it, I snatched the phone back. His now-empty hand hovered open. “Okay.”
“Sorry, I just—no. You do it.”
I handed the phone back.
“Is this a thing? Are we going to keep passing the phone back and forth?” he said. “If so, we should go home and do it in the nude. It’d be more interesting.”
“Shut up.” I backhanded his chest but managed to laugh. His unapologetic humor grounded me, and I calmed down a little bit. “Open it. I’m good. I won’t snatch it again.”
“You kids need something else?” Hattie, an older waitress who did shifts on the weekends, picked up the plate of nachos and smiled, red lipstick smeared across her veneers. “Drink? Snacks?”
“No thanks, ma’am.” Drayton gestured the cell phone in my direction. “Got a whole meal right here.”
“No thanks, Hattie,” I answered quickly, attempting to keep the impatience out of my tone. “We’re good.
“Okay.” I inhaled. I exhaled. I nodded. “Do it.”
Drayton unlocked the phone again. I looked up at his face instead of watching the screen. His eyes moved to mine for a second and he grinned. “Fuck, you’re cute.” He returned to the phone and I could hear the soft tap of his thumb pads getting closer and closer to knowing just what the future held.
The reflection was in his green gaze, but I couldn’t read what he was reading. I just knew that when his brows pulled together, for a mere millisecond, my heart stopped. I didn’t get in.
“You did it, Cheer,” he looked at me and smiled so bright that he could have outshone the sun. “You did it. You got in.”
“I got in?” I snatched the phone. It was hard to read the screen as adrenaline pumped through me and I felt dazed. “Where, where, oh there! Ah. Dray! I got in.”
The phone clattered on the tabletop as I dropped it and dived on top of him. He tumbled into the corner of the booth but didn’t fail to encase me in his strong hold. He buried his face in my neck and congratulated me over and over again. We hugged for a while. I read the email again. We kissed and he decided to make an announcement.
“If you know this girl right here,” he shouted, “give her a congrats. She just got accepted to her dream college.”
The entire diner didn’t know who I was, but they all clapped regardless. It was sort of embarrassing, but sweet as well. Hattie, Kenzie, and Joe gave me a more personal congratulations, and after about fifteen minutes of reveling in success, I sighed in contentment and relaxed back into the seat. The email was still open.
“Dray.” I peered up at my man, who was sipping a pop that Kenzie gave me on the house. “How come you seemed . . . disappointed when you read the email?”
“Disappointed? What are you talking about?”
“You sort of frowned when you were reading it.”
“You’re imagining things.” He put the drink down and leaned both of his elbows on the tabletop, as if he was putting his back to me.
“I know that you frowned.” I was gentle with the words. “Is it because I’ll be going to California for sure now?”
“Cheer.” He looked over his shoulder. “I didn’t frown. I’m not disappointed. I was probably concentrating or looking for the paragraph. I don’t know. I’m not disappointed. Why are you trying to start an argument?”
“I’m not.”
“Stop with the accusations, then.”
His leg bounced under the table as we fell silent. What the hell did I do that for?
“Have you written a letter of intent?” I asked when I couldn’t handle the quiet for another moment. “Like, I don’t even know where you’re going to college.”
His hands came together in front of his chin and he shook his head.
“So you don’t know where you’re going to college? Dray, you’ll miss the deadline.”
“Can we go?” He turned his knees toward me, wanting out of the worn leather booth.
Despite the fact that he was being a bit shut off and I’d unintentionally spoiled the good mood, he held my hand in the car.
“Dray, where are you going to college?”
He stared out of the windshield, turning the wipers on when a light rain began to fall. “I don’t know. It depends on whether I can convince my dad to stop bei
ng a dick.”
“Okay. Where do you want to go to college?”
“UCLA. It’s a good school.” His hand dropped mine so that he could turn on the blinker and the lights. The rain was getting heavier. “And it’s close to you.”
“Please don’t choose a college based on me. It’s too big. I don’t want to change your plans.”
He ignored me and drove with one hand on the wheel, his other fist resting in front of his mouth, elbow on the door. When we arrived at Drayton’s house, we stood on the front patio. He watched the snow melting. Small clumps of white ice washed down the drive.
“Why shouldn’t I pick a college that’s close to you, Cheer?” He didn’t look at me. “I want to be with you. It’s a good school. It’s in California. Not a lot of downfall that I can see.”
“Because I wouldn’t choose a school to be close to you.” I stood in front of him, but he stared over my head. He looked hurt, biting the inside of his cheek. “I have a plan. I’ve had that plan for a long time and it’s happening. I wouldn’t change that, and you shouldn’t have to change your plans for me.”
“I didn’t have a plan. I’ve never given it that much thought at all.” His eyes met mine. “I was going go to Baylor because that was how it had always been, and I didn’t question it. But I don’t care where I go to college. As long as I get to play the sport I love, what does it matter? My dad is the one with the fucking problem.”
“That fight isn’t something that I want to get in the middle of.”
He scoffed and turned around. “Sounds like you really couldn’t give a shit what happens to us.”
“Excuse me?” I snapped. He didn’t turn around. Rain fell on the awning, the pattering loud and in time with the pounding in my chest. “What the hell? Of course I care. But things don’t have to change. And even if they do, it won’t change how I feel.”
He didn’t respond. He kept his back to me, hands in his pockets. The college conversation had always been a bit of a sensitive subject because it had always been possible that we’d be apart. But if I had known that it would turn into this, I would have had it sooner.
“I’m leaving.” I turned around and started down the steps, but then I remembered how much he hated it when I walked alone. I was mad, but I wasn’t cruel.
It didn’t seem to matter though. He stormed into rain and blipped the button for the Jeep. Unbelievable. I opened the passenger door and climbed in, my wet jeans squelching on the leather seat as I sat down. He drove in desolate silence. I was itching to continue the conversation, but I didn’t have a clue what to say.
I didn’t even know what he was so upset about. I wanted him to choose his own path and his own future without the influence of others. What was so awful about that?
He didn’t even pull into the drive. He stopped at the curb and I got out. This was stupid. More ridiculous than I could even comprehend. But it seemed that we needed some space before we could talk this over.
I made it as far as the mailbox before I heard his door open and close. He flicked his hood up to shield his eyes from the rain.
“You seem to have a big opinion for someone who wants me to make my own choice.” He threw his arms open and shrugged. “Thought it was up to me where I go to college.”
“It is!”
“So what the hell is the issue if I choose UCLA?”
Drops of rain rolled over my face. My hair was sopping, clinging to my neck and chest. I held a hand above my brow so that I could look at him without blurred vision. It didn’t help much.
“It’s not an issue. Just don’t do it for me.”
“I can choose you if I want to, Dallas. I can still have a good education, a good future if I choose you.”
“But what about your dad?”
“I’ll worry about my dad,” he shouted and stepped closer. The rain had drenched his maroon hoodie, darkening it. “Stop making excuses. Because it feels like you’re pushing me away right now. I know that you didn’t want a relationship, and that’s what happened. Do you not want to be with me now that you’re going to California?”
“Of course I want to be with you. That’s the point that you’re missing. We can be together no matter where either of us are.”
“Sure, we can, but if I want to choose UCLA because the thought of living near my girlfriend makes me happy, then why shouldn’t I?”
“Would your dad even allow that?”
The drain beside the sidewalk gurgled, our clothes were soaked, and it hurt to argue with the same person who made
me feel whole.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’m working on it.”
I said nothing.
“I don’t want to fight, Dallas. I’m going home,” he told me quietly. I almost didn’t hear him over the rain. He watched me through the thick fall. “There’s nothing wrong with being in love, Dallas. There’s no weakness in making space for it in your life.”
His words hit me. It was brutal and truthful, but it was something that I’d been in denial over until I was watching him climb into his Jeep. He drove away, and the farther that he got, the more that I wanted him to come back.
We hadn’t said I love you, but what he just said was an admittance of its own. As I ran inside, I thought about the fact that all I’d ever wanted was to stand alone. To be strong and accomplished without a man holding me down. I’d thought that it was weak to make a relationship as important as a career. Drayton had never held me down. He’d lifted me up.
“Hey.” Nathan sat on the couch with a beer and his boxer shorts on. The football highlights were on television. Sunday. “Bit wet out there, huh?”
“CalArts emailed. I got in.”
Nathan stood up, eyes wide and pride beaming in his smile. “Dude. That’s so damn cool. Man. I am so proud.”
He gave me an awkward hug. I was still dripping after standing in the rain and he wasn’t wearing a lot of clothing. But I knew that he was overwhelmed with pride.
“Thanks, Nathan.”
“We should celebrate? Let’s . . . go out for dinner? Invite Drayton and Gabby. Whoever.”
“I think that we should celebrate just the two of us.” I smiled and headed toward the corridor. “I’ll shower and dress first.”
“I better put on some nicer clothes.”
I knew that I had handled the argument all wrong. It had left me with a small bout of nausea, and I used the shower to disguise a few fallen tears. It felt wrong to know that Drayton assumed I didn’t want him for the simple fact that I was off to a college in California. Did he believe that he was so disposable? And as much as I believed that we would be fine in separate states, his desperation to be close worried me. The whole fight left me upset and confused. I needed a bit of time to clear my head before I saw Drayton again. The next time that we spoke, I didn’t want it to end in argument. Or worse.
Driving home from dinner, the road was slick. Nathan clutched the wheel and drummed his fingers along to the song coming from the stereo. It crackled. It was old.
“I know that you don’t want to talk about it,” he said and I sighed, letting my forehead press against the cold passenger window. “But I have to say something. Just one thing and then I’ll let it go.”
He’d figured out rather fast that I was having relationship issues when I stared at a plate of fries and garlic bread and refused to touch it. “Fine.” I rolled my wrist. “What is it?”
“I wasn’t a good example while you were growing up.” My head whipped toward him. “I wasn’t. I didn’t hide my habits. There was nothing discreet about the girls I had coming in and out. There was no example of exclusivity, and I think that I unintentionally gave you this impression that relationships were the worst thing in the world.”
“You can’t take that sort of responsibility, Nathan. You were seventeen. No one expected you to be perfect.�
��
He looked at me for a moment, shaking his head. “No, I could have done better. I should have. You took on the same habits that I had and I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew that it was because of what you’d watched from an impressionable age. But, Dal, don’t be afraid of your relationship. It’s a good one. I can tell.”
I watched him as he frowned, staring in front of him. “Nathan, I am who I am, and I’ve never considered that a bad thing. Drayton and I are having a . . . rough patch. But it hasn’t changed how I feel about him.”
“Who you are isn’t a bad thing,” he said. “But don’t push him away out of fear. I know you, Dallas. I see more than you realize. You might not even realize that you’re doing it.”
The streetlights illuminated the car, casting shadows. I stared out of the fogged-up windshield and felt my stomach drop. “Can you drop me off at Drayton’s, please?”
He didn’t look at me. But he did smile.
When we pulled up at the gate, I handed Nathan my swipe card and he opened his window, allowing a burst of freezing-cold air to blast through the warm car. The gates opened and he drove slowly, careful until the enormous and luminous house came into view. Drayton’s bedroom light was on.
“Thanks. I’ll be back later. Maybe.”
“You have school tomorrow,” he warned me as I got out of the car. I shivered and gave him a quick wave before I jogged over to the front door, which opened before I could touch the bell.
“Dallas.” Drayton encircled my wrist and pulled me into the warm house. His cap was on backward and he wore a snug long sleeve and sweatpants. He watched me with panic. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” My heart swelled at his concern. “Can we please talk?”
He nodded. I took my boots off and he wrapped his hand around mine and led me upstairs. His room was so warm that I pulled off my coat and scarf while he sat on the corner of his bed. The fire crackled and the flames flickered. I was more at ease than I’d been all afternoon. His presence, the familiarity of it, made me feel at home, and that was how I knew what I wanted. It was how I knew that it was okay to want it.
