History Is All You Left Me

“The room has changed a little bit,” Wade says, pushing open his bedroom door.

Understatement. His room looks like it’s been robbed. There’s an outline on the floor where his rickety home studio used to be and I wouldn’t be surprised if the damn thing finally collapsed and he had to throw it away, except that doesn’t explain what happened to his flat-screen TV or his Xbox. His laptop isn’t in its usual spot on his desk, and his charger is nowhere in sight, either. The only things that remain are his bed; his chair and desk with a textbook currently open underneath the lamp; a bookcase well stocked with nonfiction books, which he rarely finishes because he gets over each subject due to “information overload”—the opposite of you; and his phone. It’s sitting in the corner of the room and propped up at angle, his trick so his jazz acoustics are amplified.

“I’m really scared to ask where your mother hid your stuff. Please don’t say she sold it.”

“It’s in storage somewhere.”

“What the hell did you do?”

Wade pulls a stick of mint gum out of his pocket and chews it while sitting down on his bed and inviting me to do the same. I go for the chair instead. It’s not very comfortable at first because I’m close to the small radiator, so I take off my coat, reminding myself I shouldn’t become too exposed. The more exposed I am, the easier it will be to remove every last piece of clothing and lose myself in him—in front of you. Wade is confused, no doubt, but he doesn’t pressure me because he knows me well enough that it might push me away.

Wow. Someone knowing me is supposed to be a beautiful thing and not something that prevents him from being open, right? I wish you were here to actually give me an answer.

“I was skipping school last week. Everything kind of fell apart after the library blowup and your choosing Jackson over me. Seeing you and Theo all over school didn’t help make me feel less alone. Not in some ghost-seeing crazy way, but the memories sucked. The next morning I was going to school and forgot my damn tie, so I ran back home because I wasn’t in the mood to stay there for detention. My mom had already left for work by the time I got there, and once the idea to stay home got in my head, it never bounced. I listened to music and played video games and napped. I did it again the next day. But on the third day, the school called my mom to see if I was okay, and shit hit the fan. She came home and I thought she was going to break her never-hit-me rule.”

I nod. I understand. “Did she take all your stuff then?”

“The next day when I got home from school, yeah. She only let me keep my phone because it would’ve been irresponsible of her not to. I can’t even use my laptop for homework, and she’s forcing me to stay late at the library to get work done.” Wade shrugs. “At least I have some games on my phone.”

I can’t even give him shit for any of this. “You could’ve just said you missed us, by the way.”

“Say what?”

“When I asked you for the short version. You could’ve said you were skipping school because you were missing me and Theo.”

“It took me a while to man up and say all that and you’re judging me? You suck, Griffin.”

I turn to the window because I can’t “man up” and look him in the eyes. “I do suck, Wade. I’ve been really selfish, like my pain shadows everyone else’s. I had Jackson to talk to, and you’ve had no one this past month.”

“I have to ask,” Wade says, and then asks nothing for a stretch of time. “You and Jackson . . . ?” He spits the words out and closes his eyes like he’s behind the wheel of a car that’s flying off a cliff. “Are you and Jackson together or something? Forget it, I don’t want to know.” He looks around the room, probably wishing he could turn on the TV and distract himself, but he’s stuck here with me. Before I can say anything, he continues, “It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like we’re dating. I mean, what the hell are we doing, Griffin? Is this just sex? I don’t know if I can keep up with that if that’s all it’s supposed to be.”

“I think we should just be friends again,” I say.

“It’s too complicated to attempt something more right now,” Wade says.

“We shouldn’t look at it like that. I think we’re better off as friends, period. I personally don’t want to be in a relationship again. Definitely not anytime in the near future. It’s too soon.”

“Okay,” Wade says. “And I’m better off not knowing anything about Jackson.”

The thing is, love doesn’t make sense anymore, and I feel lied to. Love isn’t this ultimate power that can make me feel unbeatable and all conquering. If I were truly in love with you, would I have turned to Wade? And if I were falling in love with Wade, would I have turned to Jackson? Maybe my self-destructive streak isn’t so much about cheating on a single person as it is about cheating on love itself. Love, the hugest liar in this universe.

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