Page 78 of Rebound With Me
Here we go.
He sits up and looks down at my face, I’m sure I look so worried. I sit up too, pull my legs up to my chest and hug them in.
“It’s really not that big of a deal, honest. You know my Mom died when I was fourteen, after being sick for about a year. I was really close to her, you know, total mama’s boy. Gabe went off to college the next year, dealt with things his own way, so it was just me and my Dad, who just threw himself into his business. I don’t blame him for that, it’s just that I was a mess.”
“I’m sure,” I say, putting my hand on his knee, the other over my heart.
“I was just angry all the time. I was out all the time, not with a rough crowd exactly, but they were older and they weren’t the good kids. I never actually messed around in school, but the principal kept picking on me even though he knew my Mom had died, and I just kept getting more and more angry, drinking and just fucking around, and one day after school I was in a corner store with my friends and this asshole who was pissed at me because the girl he liked was into me, he kept taunting me and said ‘aww why don’t you go cry to your mommy—oh wait you can’t.’ It was so stupid but I just lost it. I punched him and we got into a fight, I pushed him and knocked over a bunch of shelves in the store and the shelves hit the store window, which shattered, and it was a big loud mess.
The guy’s arm was broken and he had a black eye but he was mostly being a spaz because he couldn’t fight for shit. The owner of the store and the guy’s parents pressed charges. So I was arrested when I was fifteen, that’s the big awful thing, and I’m sure it set off a bunch of alarms in your ex’s head, but that was the only incident like that. Wait, that’s not exactly true. I got into a bar fight when I was twenty, but the guy was a buddy of mine and we were both being drunk idiots, so it wasn’t a big thing, it was just stupid. Other than that, I used to sleep around a lot, but you knew that.”
“Wait, but were you…incarcerated?”
“No. I mean, I was detained after I was arrested. The judge was pretty understanding of my situation, so I was sentenced to community service and probation and mandatory anger management counseling and my Dad had to pay the kid’s medical bills and to fix up the store. I paid him back as soon as I started making money from bucket drumming.”
“Were you afraid to tell me about all that?”
“Not at all, it’s just not something that usually comes up in conversation. I didn’t go to jail. I don’t have a record. I could run for public office if I wanted to. And after Charlie was born I stopped drinking so much. After Clara left, I started seeing Dr. Glass again regularly for a while, because I wanted to make sure I never snapped at him if I was in a mood, and I haven’t.”
“So you have a therapist?”
“The social worker I started seeing when I was fifteen. She eventually got another degree and started a private practice. She’s cool, you’d like her. I don’t always agree with her. At least, I don’t always take her advice. I hardly ever take her advice actually, but…” He looks at me and suddenly takes in a sharp breath. “I have never physically hurt anyone since that bar fight, and I would never, ever hurt you. You have to believe me.”
“I do.”
“Do you?”
I nod. “How many walls have you punched?” I tried to say it without sounding accusatory.
“Well. I’ve smashed a few inanimate objects over the years and I am not proud of that. I’m not perfect. I’m not trying to be. It’s like those Rumi poems you gave me, I’m just trying to have the feelings and use my feeling words, and all that…crap.”
I laugh.
“I do like Dr. Glass, but I hate therapy, I really do. I just want to be able to deal with my anger in a way that doesn’t hurt anybody. Or things.”
I put my hand on his face.
“Does that change anything for you?”
I shake my head and kiss him. “Lucky for you, I’ve spent a lot of my life with a secret crush on Dallas Winston.”
“Thank God.” He kisses me back. “Wait—who?”
“He’s a character fromThe Outsiders. You must have read it in school.”
“Wait—he’s the one who was an actual criminal who was in gangs.”
“Well, I’m not literally comparing you to him, it’s just…Okay, if I’m being honest, it was more Matt Dillon from the movie.”
“Matt Dillon? You could run into him like at any time around New York, I always see him around.”
“You do?...Wait, are you actually jealous of my crush on early-Eighties Matt Dillon?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t want anyone else touching you.”
“I don’t want anyone else touching you.” I kiss him again.
He starts to pull my top off.
