Page 64 of Glass Half Full
He lets out a sigh, and his hand goes still, resting on my rib cage.
“My mom used to do that with my brother,” he explains. “He has ADHD, and it was really bad when he was a little kid, before they had his treatment all figured out. I don’t know how my mom did it: raising the two of us, working full time, dealing with the ADHD all on her own. She never yelled at us. Never. Some of the moms in my neighbourhood were the kind who’d just scream and scream at their kids, about anything and everything, but not my mom. When my brother was acting up really bad and she was on the verge of losing it, she’d make him sit at the kitchen table and do that thing with the marshmallows. Sometimes she’d do it with him. It helped them both. I even caught her doing it on her own once, years later when I was a teenager.”
He chuckles at the memory.
“She sounds like a really amazing woman,” I whisper.
I feel him nod. “She is. The best. She’s a fighter. She doesn’t believe in limits. She was always pushing to be better than what life gave her, and she raised me and my brother to believe in doing the same. She’s the whole reason I wanted to go to college. Not that it...worked out, but she made me feel like I could be anything. She didn’t let me believe anything else. She’s a fierce lady, my mom.”
“Sounds like it.”
There’s something more in his tone than nostalgia. There’s pain there, but I can’t figure out the cause.
“What did you want to go to college for?” I ask.
He chuckles again. “You’ll laugh.”
“I will not!”
“I’ll remind you of that when you do laugh.” He trails a finger between two of my ribs. “I wanted to go into radio—like, I wanted to work at a radio station, preferably as a host. There was this program in Ottawa I was looking into.”
“Why would I laugh at that?” I grab his hand and squeeze. “Dylan, you’d be great at that. You’d be amazing.”
He stays silent for a long moment before he squeezes me back.
“Thanks.”
“How come you didn’t go?” It feels like a loaded question, heavy with some weight only he understands.
“Things, um...They didn’t work out like that.”
“Was it because of money?”
He doesn’t answer, and I know it was more than that. The reason must be bigger. Darker.
“You don’t have to tell me tonight,” I whisper, “but you can trust me, you know?”
“Thank you,” he says again. I don’t miss that it isn’t really an answer.
I want to know him, all of him. Whatever this pain is, I want to do what I can to take it away, but I won’t push him. Not tonight. Not after what we’ve just shared.
“Hey.” I give him a nudge with my elbow. “Just think. If you’d gone to Ottawa, you never would have ended up with me in your bed tonight.”
“What a travesty.”
“Just trying to put a positive spin on things.”
He strokes my hair. “Ah yes, my little ray of sunshine.”
“I meant it, you know.” I can’t help getting serious again. “What I said at the cafe that day.”
“And what pearl of wisdom are you referring to?”
“With you,” I remind him, “the glass is always half full.”
He pulls me in tighter, and he doesn’t let go all night.
Seventeen
