It’s about all I can do to not scream “Hurry” when my phone shows 7:00 a.m. and he’s not here yet.
True to form, he arrives five minutes late. What I love about Max is that he can do that and it’s not a big deal. If I were even a minute late I’d be apologizing. Who am I kidding? If I were a minute early I’d be apologizing.
He pulls up and gets out of the truck, and my heart is beating out of my chest in anticipation of looking into his eyes, like Kayla said.
But when I look over at him to say hey, he’s not looking at me. He mumbles, “What up, dude?” and gets right to work.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Tired. Didn’t sleep well.”
I laugh. “Why? You kiss someone utterly disgusting and were throwing up all night?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Not everything is about you, Jordan.”
I am speechless. Speechless. How the — what the hell?
I am so speechless that I actually don’t speak for a bit. My insides feel like they are melting. Like everything good from yesterday has evaporated, and all the good feelings are gone.
I want to punch him, actually. Because you can’t give someone something like that and then just take it away, can you?
Instead, I say, “We could use a few more lemons. You need anything at Safeway?”
He nods. “More garlic, and let me check the chicken breast supply.”
I don’t even respond, just get to work inventorying the rest of what I need — prickly pears, sugar, ice. I’m done. Not inventorying. I’m done because who kisses someone, knowing it’s their first kiss, and then acts like nothing happened? It’s like abuse, kind of, and I don’t need abuse. I decide Max and I are definitely over. A lump forms in my throat about it, but I swallow it down. This is a big red warning sign. I can’t and I won’t do this.
Good-bye, Max, I think to myself. You’ll be a work friend and nothing more from here on out.
I kick off my flip-flops and walk down the driveway to our mailbox.
It’s early and the sun is just rising, but a full month of cooking in 100-plus heat, with no rain and low evening temperatures in the mid-80s, has rendered the white concrete of the driveway like an oven. Poor Dorcas is going to have to wait till tonight for her walk.
I feel the sizzle on the soles of my feet and I wince at the exquisite pain of burning skin.
I stand at the mailbox and pull out the mail that’s been sitting there overnight. A bunch of solicitations and coupon booklets. I pretend to read them carefully, but really I’m allowing the singe of my toes to numb everything else in the world out.
Max climbs out of the truck and looks around for me. He waves me over. I don’t want to go. I want to stay right here until my heels blister. But he keeps waving, so I slowly walk back over to the shade of the garage.
He smiles and looks me in the eye with kindness. I’m like, Nice timing, asshole.
“I’m sorry for the crappy good morning,” he says, hugging me lightly. “Lots of crap on my mind today. None of it about you. You’re the good thing, Jordan. You’re like the one good thing. I’m sorry I did you like that.”
I exhale, hug him tight and hold him close, stroke his beautiful black hair. “It’s okay,” I whisper into his ear. “Totally get that. I’m cool. We’re cool.”
“Thanks,” he says into my shoulder. “I’ll try not to shut you out when I get all whatever.”
“Okay,” I say. “Not a problem.”
“Thanks.”
He pulls away and I resist the urge to pull him back to me. I want more. So much more that it scares me. I scratch my elbow instead. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
He smiles that wide Max smile again. “It’s nothing. Well, not nothing. Just. I don’t want to talk about it, you know?”
“Sure,” I say, too quickly.
“It’s just stupid shit. Like, the world is a big place. We’re just space dust. None of this means shit. Sometimes when I’m upset, I have to remember that.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Sure,” I say. He’s right. Sometimes I get all freaked out, but in the end we’re pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
“Just know that you’re not that problem, okay? You’re the antidote. I can’t imagine any person I’d rather be with today, okay?”
I can’t help it. A smile bleeds out of me. “Okay,” I say.
“You’re my Jordan.”
“Okay,” I say, and the smile gets wider. “I like that. Okay.”
I have a secret no one can ever know, and it’s messing me up big time. The only way I can figure to stop being two totally different people is to go into superhero mode.
So I tell Jordan I have plans with my boys after work. I go home, head into my room, swallow everything else down, pick up my phone, and text Kevin.
Me: Hey
Kevin: Thought you were in ghost mode
Me: Sorry
When I type that, I feel bile rise up in my throat.
Kevin: Eh its fine you wanna hang out agin?
More bile. Like entering the back of my mouth now.
Me: Yeah
Kevin: Cum over
Luckily there is a trash can next to my desk. I lunge and vomit into it. The acid in my mouth burns like panic, like I can feel it dissolving my tooth enamel. We can’t meet somewhere private, because I’m afraid of what Super Max will do to this kid. In public I can say what I need to say and at the end he’ll still be alive and I won’t be in prison.
Me: Nah wanna talk. You know Gold Bar?
Kevin: I’ll find it. An hour?
Me: Yup
Kevin: Stay adorable
I got nothing to say to that one.
I arrive before him, order an iced tea, and grab a table by the window. My pulse quickens as I watch him saunter across the parking lot in a yellow tank top, his blue faux-hawk glistening in the sun. I hate him so much.
“What up?” he says as he walks in. He comes over and fist-bumps me. He smells like coconut.
“’Sup,” I say back.
He gets a latte and when he sits down across from me, he smiles. The left side of his upper lip rises higher than the right side. “Food trucking today?”
“Yup.”
“Makin’ good money?”
“Pretty good.”
“I always thought that would be fun. But not in the summer.”
“Right. True.”
“I’m taking classes. That way I can take out a loan and not work during the summer.”
“Nice.”
Kevin sighs. “Dude. Heavy lifting. You invited me here. Maybe you ask me a question now?”
I take a big sip of my ginger-peach tea. “What was that, the night in your dorm room?”
Kevin laughs. “What was what?”
“What happened between us. I mean, I know what happened, but, like, you know I —” The words get stopped up in my esophagus.
He smirks. “You what? Use your words, dude.”
“Said no.”
He laughs again and looks around. When he speaks his voice is quieter by half. “You were sooo nervous.”
“Yeah.”
“Sometimes a guy needs a little encouragement to get where he wants to go. You definitely wanted that.”
I feel that slush again in the back of my throat. And these shakes that start in my legs, like when your teeth chatter after a cold shower, except my entire body. I push it all down. I command my body to stop, and amazingly it does. The chatters go away. The slush recedes. Super Max.
“Did I?”
Under the table, he nuzzles his knee up against mine. “Of course. You sure as hell weren’t stopping me once we got started.”
I am lost for words. I have none. I truly don’t know how to make any sounds from my mouth. I stare at him, utterly confused. Am I wrong? Was it okay?
He smiles again, reaches over and flicks my cheek. “Look at you, and look at me. In what universe could I get you to do anything you didn’t want?”
He’s right. And yet. It’s like I froze. I travel back there in my brain. Him sitting on my legs. My legs wobbling under his butt. My brain and my mouth, kind of like now. Useless. What’s wrong with me?