Page 60 of This I Know
“But what are you still doing at this lame party, then, if you’re feeling sad?”
I shrug. I catch some of the tall grass, rip it off and play with it. “I guess it’s better than being alone.”
Ethan nods. “I get that, too.”
“You do?” I say again, jokingly this time, because I sensed a hint of a joke in him. We look at each other and smile. His eyes light up by their own free will; in the moonlight they appear so soulful that if I tried real hard, I could see my reflection in them.
I look away. “You don’t even know my last name,” I say. That fact hadn’t occurred to me until now, and I should probably tell him. I mean, itisthe proper way of doing things, and we’ve never been given the chance to do things properly before. “Dylan,” I say. “Avery Dylan.”
“I like it. I guess I should tell you mine.”
“I already know it.”
He looks at me, surprised. “You already know it?”
I nod but don’t respond. I want to keep him guessing a moment longer. “We are the same class, you know.”
“Well, Avery Dylan, I guess we know more about each other than we thought. And by the way, you didn’t have to tell me. I’ve known it all along.”
I wait, not wanting to give in to the invitation to nudge him for more.
He says, “From class. Duh.”
I smile.
I slip the piece of thick grass between my fingers over and over. The rhythm calms me even more than Ethan’s presence, which is saying a lot: the waves of his scent are washing under my nose in the breeze. Walking with him, I can forget everything. The fact that Cole is here, and that he could still be closer than I’d like. The fact that my leg is feeling a bit stiff now after that little escape show I just put on. The fact that I have no idea what’s going to happen in the future; and the best thing is, Ethan makes me not only forget about all that, but he makes me not even care.
We’ve walked the entire border of the back yard and we’re now at the other side. He grabs my hand.
“Come with me,” he says.
We hurry up to the gazebo that’s now free. Inside, he sits me down. It’s nice here. The atmosphere is still loud, of course, but in here it’s dim, some dull lights shimmering here and there, and we have the luxury of the semi-privacy of a screen. The bench is small, so there’s no room for Ethan to take a seat next to me. He appears fine with standing, though, but soon he begins to pace.
“What are you doing with that jerk?” he says out of nowhere.
I let out a laugh. “Good question. The story of my life…” Then I look at him, realizing he might have meant someone else. “Which jerk were you talking about?”
He furrows his brow. “Brendan.”
Oh, right. That jerk. Because God knows there have been a few.
“I guess he didn’t used to be a jerk. He used to be just a friend from class. But that’s the way all guys in my life are turning out lately.” I huff. “I’m starting to think it’s just part of their nature.”
“Part of the nature of guys, you mean? So you it’s mean part of my nature.”
I blush. “Well, not yet, I guess. I don’t know. I mean, don’t you ever feel like that? Like everything with everyone around you is going wrong?”
He shakes his head. “No. And you’re wrong,” he says, and then he kneels down.
What’s going on? I sit up straight. I approach my next question carefully. “Wrong about what?”
He doesn’t move, and he doesn’t answer, either.
Why is he kneeling?
And why isn’t he answering me, for crying out loud?
“About all guys being jerks,” he finally says. He rests one elbow on his knee. “I know what you’ve been through, Avery, so I don’t blame you for thinking those things.”
