Page 4 of You Are Not Me

“You’re sure?” My heart thudded.

“I’m sure.”

I nodded, realizing that I believed her. She’d hurt me a lot, but I loved her, and I knew she loved me.

“Can we talk some more? About what’s going on with you?” She tapped Adam’s letter with her free hand.

I untangled my fingers from hers. “I guess.”

“I don’t want to fight. I want to understand.”

That didn’t sound promising. “Okay.”

Mom licked her lips, her eyes going distant, like she was trying to figure out what she wanted to ask first. She kept her voice gentle. “What about Adam’s girlfriend, honey? And your own?”

“Susan’s not my girlfriend,” I said truthfully. “She never really was. And Leslie’s…” I fidgeted and rubbed the back of my hand over my mouth, wishing I could wipe away the bitter taste of guilt. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“I figured she wasn’t. Susan, I mean.”

Swiping a hand into my hair, I grimaced and considered telling Mom the truth. Susan was a lesbian and we’d covered for each other. I settled for telling half of it. “It was all for show. She knew about me being gay.”

“And Leslie, she’s what? Adam’s beard? She knows?”

I shook my head. It was hard to explain about Leslie. “No. She has no idea. And Adam… He loves her too.” The last came out in a whisper, hot shame chewing at my insides.

Mom’s eyes went hard. “He’s dating you both? And she doesn’t know?”

I fiddled with the tab on my sweating cola can. The tips of my ears burned.

“You don’t think that’s wrong?”

“Iknowit’s wrong.”

Mom took my lead and turned back to her string cheese. She ate a strip thoughtfully while I sipped my drink. I wasn’t thirsty, and the cola churned in my stomach with my swallowed tears, but it was something to do so I didn’t have to look at her.

If I couldn’t believe Adam’s promise, maybe she could. “But this fall things will be different.”

“How?”

I didn’t want to lie. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to wait and see.”

She cocked her head. “Wait and see? Peter, c’mon.”

I pressed my lips together, wishing I had a camera to take a picture of something, anything. Just to get these tense, jittery feelings out of my gut and onto film. “I know. Believe me, I know how it sounds, and I have my doubts. But I love him.”

Wouldn’t love give a second chance? And a third? Wasn’t forgiveness the biggest part of love? Wasn’t that why she and I were talking right now? I wanted to give Adam every chance to leave our lies behind. Even if Ididn’tbelieve, deep down, that he was capable of it.

The wrinkles around Mom’s mouth grew deeper. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but this breaks my heart. I hate that you’re willing to accept so much less than you deserve.” She leaned across the counter to grab hold of my hand again. “Why don’t you think you deserve to be somebody’s everything? Someboy’severything?”

My throat ached. I thought of my childhood spent playing second fiddle to her characters’ demands, her anxiety, and Valium. I thought about Dad’s long hours at work at the university, and his obsession with Mary Magdalene and the Knights Templar. I cleared my throat, blinked away the wetness, and said nothing.

Mom tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder. “Gay or straight, you deserve better than being someone’s piece on the side.”

I winced.

I was the definition of a piece on the side. Adam might love me as much as he loved Leslie, but I had strong doubts he’d ever choose me over her. In public I was just hisbest friend, but Leslie was hisgirlfriend. As much as I wanted to believe things might change when he returned this fall, I’d already faced that it was unlikely. I knew Adam too well.

“Does he really love you?”

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