Page 65 of Wham Line
He turned his face into my shoulder.His cheek was warm, and his hair brushed my neck.
“You’re allowed to be mad,” I said.“About whatever you want.I didn’t know your mom, and I wasn’t part of that relationship.But I know you, Bobby.You’re such a good, kind, loving person.If you feel conflicted, that’s okay.It doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.It doesn’t mean you don’t miss her.People are complicated.Emotions are messy.”I ran my fingers through his glossy black hair.“Thank you for talking to me.It means a lot to me that you’re letting me share this with you.”
Somewhere among the trees, a drop of water plonked.That clean, sporty scent of Bobby’s deodorant rose on the air, mixing with the smell of sap and a recent rain.
“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” he said in a low voice.
I rubbed his back some more.The muscles there were broad and strong and firm.He was shivering, I realized.And then—the thought making me smile—he needed a haircut.
“You won’t,” I said.“Feelings aren’t forever.”
The wind picked up again.The trees wavered and bent, and the same wind pulled at my hair and speckled my glasses with little drops of water.
I took a breath.“In the spirit of talking about our feelings and apologizing and, uh, leaving no stone unturned, I guess—”
Bobby didn’t exactly groan out loud, but that’s only because he’s a trooper.
“—I wanted to say I’m sorry if I haven’t done a good job, you know, helping you.”
Bobby raised his head from my shoulder and looked at me.
“It’s my first time,” I said.And pure nerves plus the fact that I’m still thirteen years old inside made me add, “Not likethatfirst time.But you know that.Ha ha.Um, more like, it’s my first time trying to be, you know, an emotional support for my partner, and I wanted to make sure you knew you could talk to me, but I also didn’t want to press too much, and I knew you needed to eat, but I knew sometimes people honestly couldn’t eat because they were grieving, and I think at one point I was worried about your pillow—”
“What are you talking about?”
“I literally have no idea.I’m trying to say that I’m going to keep working on this too.On being there for you.In a way that’s meaningful and right for you.Because I love you, and I want to be that person for you.”
Bobby did this little blink-shrug-shake of the head like he was having some kind of processing malfunction.And then he said, “What would I want you to do differently?”
“My baseline is usually ‘pretty much everything.’”
“But you’re perfect.”
It was, I’m sorry to say, literally the most Bobby thing Bobby had ever thought or said or done.One hundred percent sincerity.Complete matter-of-factitude.And the general impression that he thought this was such an obvious truth that he didn’t understand why we were even talking about it.
So, I did the obvious thing: I melted.I turned into goo.Every inch of me liquefied in a rush of warmth, and I realized I was smiling.
“Oh, um, thanks, but I’m not perfect—”
“Yes.You are.You’re perfect for me.I love you so much; I can’t imagine going through this with anyone else.”He grimaced.“I’m sorry again I called West.”
“You don’t have to apologize.I understand.There’s—there’s less at stake, I guess.You can talk to him because he’snotyour boyfriend.Kind of like how you could talk to me when we were just friends.”
He cocked his head.
“What?”I asked.
“Kind of.”
“What?”I asked again.
“That’s kind of right.About it feeling less scary to talk to West because he’s not my boyfriend and because I don’t have to—” He stopped, and I thought maybe Bobby had never put the rest of it into words for himself.After a moment he said, “And I’m going to work on that.Keep working on that, I mean.But that’s not why I could talk to you when we were friends.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I could talk to you,” he said, “because I was falling in love with you.”
Did you know sometimes you smile so hard you actually can’t do anything else?It’s a full-body operation.
