Page 28 of Dire Straights

“Polite,” Aspen scoffed. “So, wait, you guys kissed and now he’s not talking to you? Are you that bad of a kisser or what?”

“I’m, uh, pretty sure he enjoyed it,” I said. The memory of Maddy moaning in my ear as he came in his shorts showed up in my head briefly, but I pushed it out. I didn’t want to pop a boner in front of the guys.

“Are you the first guy he kissed?” Che asked, and I nodded.

“Oh, a jock with internalized homophobia? We’re really embracing the clichés, aren’t we?” Aspen piped up.

“Come on, Aspen,” I said, giving him a dry look. “He’s confused and upset. Someone like you should understand that.”

Aspen sighed, and for a split second he looked at least mildly guilty. “Fine, fine. He’s not that bad, anyway. So have you texted him?”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“Of course.”

“So text him.”

“He’s just going to ignore me,” I said.

“It’s too bad you don’t know where he lives,” Che pondered.

“I do know where he lives,” I said. They both glanced at each other, before turning back to me.

“So…” Aspen raised a hand in the air, gesturing toward the door.

“You really think I should?” I asked. “What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“What if he does?” Aspen countered. “Maybe he wants you to make the first move.”

I thought about it for a second. He’d definitely liked it when I’d taken control of the whole kissing situation. Maybe he was just waiting for me to make the first move after everything. Maybe he wanted me to fight for him, like he was a princess locked away in a tower or something. I could do that.

I took a quick shower in the community bathroom before heading out. When I was done scrubbing down and headed back down the hall to my room to put my toiletries away, I checked my phone. I had two new text messages.

One was from Che.It was cool how you were so open and honest about everything today. Let me know if you need to vent or just need someone to talk to,followed by a pink heart with a ribbon tied around it. What a fluffy beam of pink sunshine. I responded to him with my eternal gratitude before looking at the next message.

It was from my mom, asking me to call her when I get a chance, just to catch up. I had a bit of a walk, and knew my mom wasn’t the type to blab on and on forever, so once I finished getting dressed and was heading out toward Maddy’s house, I dialed her up.

It was a pretty normal phone call, just asking how my classes were going and how I was liking everything. I told her I’d actually made a lot of friends and even went to a few parties already, which seemed to surprise her.

She told me it was weird not having me in the house, so she was already looking forward to winter break. I asked how Dad was, and she told me he was working on a new project at work that was keeping him busy, but that things were good. Then the conversation took a turn that had me grimacing and wanting to pretend like I was going through a tunnel with bad reception.

“I saw Gwen today at the grocery store. We talked a little bit. She’s doing well.”

I responded with a very neutral hum, because I didn’t have much to say to that. She was a year younger than me, so she was still finishing up high school. I knew she had no intentions of attending BBU, so I didn’t have to worry about her showing up to ruin my college experience.

“Don’t you want to know if she asked about you?”

“Not really,” I said honestly. I didn’t want to be a dick about it, because my mom really liked Gwen. She’d always gushed about us, and the two of them had even gone on shopping trips and stuff like that together.

My mom’s sigh was long and deep. “You know, you didn’t seem all that upset about the break-up.”

That was because I hadn’t been remotely upset about it. I’d been relieved. I’d wanted to break up for so long, but I’d had no idea how to go about it or what to say to keep from making herlash out at me. Her dumping me at the end of senior year was one of the best things that could have happened.

I didn’t blame my mom for being confused, though. Gwen would always act pretty different around her as opposed to how she would act when it was just the two of us alone. That was when she would chastise all the mistakes I’d made in whatever the last social interaction we’d had with other people. If we hadn’t been out with friends or in public recently, she would just criticize my clothes and my interests and whatever else about me bugged her. Which was usually everything.

“I just don’t think she was the one for me, Mom.” I answered. It was the nicest way I could possibly put it.

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