Page 48 of Electric Blue Love
“I had you pegged for 10 Things I Hate about You.”
“Never seen it?” I shrugged.
“What? That’s not right. Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles – classic.”
“Favorite food?”
He tapped his empty spoon lightly against his lips. “Lasagna. You?”
“Pizza.”
We sat on a bench in Central Park with frozen yogurt. Our third food stop of the day. We started with donuts and coffee while we walked the Chelsea Market. Later we’d stopped for brunch in Hell’s Kitchen, and then fro yo as we neared the park because Court drew the line at going into the cute cupcake shop I’d wanted to go in claiming no one should have that much sugar before noon. I didn’t agree, but I figured I’d make him eat his words after lunch and after his noon time constraint.
“What were you like in high school?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t really interested in high school or any of the cliques. I did my own thing.”
“And what was your own thing? What did you do after school or on weekends?”
“I had a buddy whose uncle owned a mechanic shop, we hung there doing odd jobs for cash.”
I could sense his childhood was a tough topic and I’d danced around the real questions burning the back of my throat as long as I could. I could either not ask at all and wish I had or bite the bullet. I spooned a large glob of strawberry goodness into my mouth and waited for it to melt as I summoned the courage.
“You said you didn’t know your parents and I know you were in foster care with Leika. How many homes did you live in?”
He looked up and met my gaze. He hadn’t expected me to ask a specific question and I couldn’t tell if it put him at ease or made him more jittery.
“Five or six. I stopped keeping track. The last one was the longest – mostly because of Leika. She covered for me a lot to keep me from getting the boot when I was acting like a shithead – her words -and she was the first person I wanted to keep around, so I was a little better to tolerate knowing if I got booted we’d probably lose touch.”
“What was Leika like back then?”
He smiled, his face softening. “Exactly the damn same. That girl’s been a ball buster since birth, I think. She was put into the system when her parents were killed in a robbery gone wrong. She was in the store with them when they were killed. She doesn’t talk about it much.”
My mouth went dry and my heart squeezed for the happy, bubbly woman I’d started to like. “Understandable. Is that what happened to yours?” I shook my head. That was extremely unlikely and not what I’d meant, but God I was too much of a coward to just come out and ask directly. “I mean did something happen to your parents? Is that why you were in foster care?”
“No, my parents just bailed. Couldn’t deal with being parents I guess.”
“So, they are still alive?”
His face was unreadable but the tone he spoke with was grave and dismissive. “Does it matter? They didn’t want me.” His tone was harsh. Understandably.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“I can still be sorry. It couldn’t have been easy growing up the way you did.”
He tossed his spoon into the empty container and sat it next to him. “When you don’t know any other way it’s just normal. Just life.”
“Do you ever think about looking them up?”
“No.” His answer was immediate and definitive. “They peaced out on me. Blood and genetics don’t give them a pass for –” He paused and then shook his head. “No.”
I nodded and bit down on my bottom lip instead of throwing my arms around his body and hugging him. I knew he didn’t want my pity. “It could give you closure just knowing. Information is powerful.”
“Power isn’t always for the good.”
I’d have been inclined to believe him if it weren’t for the way his body hummed with nervous energy. Foot tapping, mouth pulled into a thin line – he was wound tight.
