Page 60 of The Other Side of Together

Three days. No response. Seems kinda permanent. If you were here, like you were three days ago, I’d tell you I love you at least once a minute. Maybe open my window, yell it to all of SF so maybe you’ll hear me and come back.

Istare down at the street from my lawn chair on the fire escape. Maybe if I concentrate hard enough, Mei will appear, and everything will go back to before we fought. Before Meemaw walked in.

I shift in my chair, away from the embarrassment that’s stalked me since that night. I usually hate when Meemaw leaves, but this time, I’m glad she’s staying at Aunt Audrey’s so I don’t have to put so much effort into avoiding eye contact.

Now if Mei would just call me, I could apologize. Again. She could explain everything she’s left unexplained and prove she meant what she said when she told me she loved me. I’d know she wasn’t playing me. We’d keep making plans that have nothing to do with her family or Face Eater or Dador a motorcycle. I’d show her she means way more to me than any of it.

But it’s 5:30 AM. She’s probably not awake. Unless she can’t sleep, either.

Pulling my beanie down lower, I tighten the blanket around my bare legs. Haven’t been warm since Mei ran out. Been out here for hours and my eyes still refuse to shut. My hands won’t let go of my phone. Just in case Mei decides she’s done with space.

“Hey.”

I look over my shoulder as Dad climbs out the window to join me on the fire escape. He’s shirtless, and for 36, still rockin’ it. I feel like the old man here.

“Hey.” I turn back around in my chair.

“Kinda early to be out here. Everything all right?”

No. I’m so messed up. I went to her apartment after she left, but her curtains were closed. I climbed her fire escape, knocked on her window, but the curtains never moved. Her ladder’s been pulled up every day since, shutting me out. I’ve sent 43 texts. Left twelve voicemails. No response. Nothing.

“Yeah. Fine.”

Dad nods as he leans against the railing, looking out into the foggy morning. “You’ve been kind of quiet the last couple days. You feeling okay?” He gestures toward my beanie and blanket.

Kinda like I’ve been ripped apart.

“Just cold.”

He frowns and turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well…you were a rock star at your game yesterday. Perfect one for your meemaw to see. She screamed like a madwoman, and you kicked the hell out of that ball. Not sure where you got your skills, but hey—I’m proud of you, even if I can’t take credit for it.”

He wouldn’t be proud of me if he knew what Meemaw knows about me and Mei. If he knew how many times she’sbeen in The Clubhouse, and what I almost did with her in our living room…

My stomach flips. “Thanks.”

Dad studies me. “Something’s up M.C. What’s on your mind?”

She’s not on my mind—she’s in it, through it. All over it. So much for space.

I shrug. “Why do you think you and my mom didn’t work out? I mean, I know she left, but, like…why…?”

His eyebrows jump and he goes still, then clears his throat. “Uh…well…that’s actually a question I don’t have an answer to. I only have guesses.”

“What do you think happened? Besides her not wanting a kid.” Did he ever have this feeling in the pit of his stomach that makes me wanna turn myself inside out to get rid of it?

“I think…uh…” He looks around like someone somewhere in San Francisco will answer the question for him. “I think we were too young.” He meets my eyes. “And she had a different idea about where we were headed.”

“Where did you think you were going?”

There’s a question in his eyes, but he goes on. “I thought we’d always be together.” He’s far away now—eighteen years ago away. “Honestly didn’t know what we were doing most of the time. Figured we’d just make it work no matter what.” He shakes his head and laughs once. “We were on and off a lot. One night, we were at a party and things got a little intense and she ended up pregnant.”

I shift in my chair. “So you wish you’d had a motorcycle bet with your dad?” I look down onto the street, my eyes wandering to Mei’s building, mentally standing on her fire escape, waiting for her to open her window and her life to me again.

Dad laughs again, and it ricochets off the buildings as he shakes his head. “Nah. I mean, I wish I’d made different choices, yeah. But a motorcycle bet would mean you wouldn’tbe sitting here, so…wouldn’t change it for the world. Things with your mom were just…one of those complicated things, you know?”

Yeah…complicated I do know.

“Listen, if you want to meet her or something, I can find out where she’s at. Last I knew she was in New York, but I can ask around.”

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