And if I end things now, I get to spare myself the trauma of seeing that happen up close.
Chris takes another puff. “Look. Just be straight with me. You’re absolutely sure there isn’t somebody else in the picture on your end?”
“Yes!” I can’t believe Chris is still obsessed with this. “God, there’s no one else. I wouldn’t even have time for anyone else.”
“I only ask because, in my experience, ninety-nine point nine percent of the time when someone decides they need to break up out of thin air, and they have this long laundry list of reasons why, the real reason is they want to go out with someone else. Or multiple someone elses.”
“Well, trust me, I’m in the other point one percent.”
“Okay, okay, if you insist.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“You brought it up,” Chris says. “I thought you were just going to tell me the reason you started talking all funny is because you’re a dude now.”
I throw up my hands. Suddenly I feel like laughing. Of course. Chris has probably known all along. Chris probably knew before I knew. “I can’t get anything by you, can I?”
“Relax, T. It’s all good. Hey, do you still not do hugs?”
I think about it. “Maybe it’s time I reconsidered that policy.”
We hug. It’s been so long since I hugged someone who wasn’t Gretchen, I’m not entirely sure I’m doing it right.
“It’s good to see you again,” Chris says. “Especially the new, dude you.”
I swallow. It’s so weird to hear hir say that. “I know what you mean.”
“I missed this.”
“Me, too.”
We pull back. I can’t look at Chris after what we just said. I know Chris is a good guy, but even good guys start looking at you differently after they find out something like that.
“I’ll see you again in a few days anyway, right?” Chris says. “For Thanksgiving.”
“Ugh. I guess.”
“Not looking forward to the trip?”
“That is a gross understatement.”
“I know. Me neither. I’m so not ready to see Steven.”
“I’m not ready to see anyone.”
“Anyone meaning your mom?”
I don’t answer. I mean my mother, yes, but for once, there are things I’m dreading even more about this particular holiday. Like talking to Audrey.
And talking to Gretchen.
We get up, stepping carefully to avoid the alcohol puddles, and cross the Yard. Chris’s Yale sweatshirt gets more angry looks, but there’s no yelling this time.
“You’ve got a good thing going here,” Chris says. “Maybe I should transfer next year.”
“Like you’d ever.”
“Yeah, okay, call my bluff. You should come down for the Race, though. It’ll be fun. The crew team leaders might let me in the freshman race.”
“Doesn’t Harvard always kick Yale’s ass at the Race?”
“Yeah. So you’ll have a good time.”
“Okay, then, it’s a plan.”
Chris holds up a hand. “High five.”
We high-five and laugh as we walked up the steps to the guys’ house.
Maybe it will all be okay.
Thanksgiving break is a few days away. I still have time to think about how to handle this.
I still have time to make up my mind.
Even though my palms are already sweating.
12
NOVEMBER
FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE
1 DAY TOGETHER
GRETCHEN
“I can’t believe they’re together again,” Toni says.
“I can,” I say. “They love each other. They’re a good couple, deep down.”
“Steven cheated on him.”
“Chris said he forgave him. Besides, you see how they are when they’re together. They make each other happy.”
“I’m just saying, three days ago Chris was totally heartbroken, and now they’re both acting like everything’s fine. It’s great that they like being together, but that doesn’t make them a good couple. I like diet soda, but it’s still full of all those chemicals that give you cancer and stuff, you know?”
It’s the night before Thanksgiving. We’re home in DC, in the car coming back from a party at Renee’s house with our high school friends. Chris and Steven spent the first half of the night making catty comments about each other from across the room. Then they started making out on the love seat.
We’re driving to Toni’s house now. When we get there, Toni’s going to come out to Audrey.
Neither of us mentions that.
It’s been a tense visit already, between Toni getting all annoyed about Chris and what happened when we first arrived at Toni’s house this afternoon. Instead of saying hello, Mrs. Fasseau, who hadn’t seen Toni since August, walked into the kitchen, took one look at Toni and me standing by the counter and asked, “Can anyone tell me why my daughter is walking around this city dressed like a vagrant?”