Page 72 of The Other Side of Together

I stop at the gate. “Thanks again for asking me. That was surprisingly fun for prom and the ideal way to spend a Saturday night.” I rub the back of my neck and flex my toes in my high-tops, minutes ticking in my head.

Tavah smiles up at me. “Thank you, Marcus. For showing me what a perfect prom looks like, and being a sport. And…letting me say stuff I probably should’ve kept to myself.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “But…good luck with The Girl and I’ll see you in chemistry.” She touches my arm, then turns and rustles her dress through the gate, smiling over her shoulder as it clicks shut.

My legs flex, ready to run, but I stand on the dark sidewalk by a bush humming with crickets and watch Tavah walk up the steps and through the white door. And then I take off down the hill. Tonight’s not over yet. In an hour, Mei will know I love her. She’ll hear it, see it, and I hope—more than anything—she’ll feel it. Because I’m feeling it. More now than ever.

Thanks, Tavah.

When the train door opens, I hit the pavement running because I almost went crazy on the ride back to Chinatown—ripped off my jacket, unbuttoned my collar when it choked me. Counted billboards. Prepared my Mei speech. Shoved my earbuds in and tried drowning my thoughts in music.

My high-tops grind into my ankles, but when I round the corner into Chinatown, I push harder. If I was on the soccer field and Mei was at the far end of it, I’d break land speed records. But running isn’t responsible for my racing heart and mind right now.

What if she doesn’t wanna see me? Never really loved me? What if she’s with Face Eater? What if she has been the whole time? What if…what if…?

Easing open The Clubhouse’s front door, I step into the inky living room. The smell of pepperoni pizza hangs in the air. Dad’s probably passed out on the couch with that weird bible he’s been reading. But the couch is riding solo. I pray he’s asleep in his room ‘cause I gotta get out of this tux and out of here ASAP.

I tug off my high tops and tiptoe toward my room, dodging the creaky spot in the floor, but stop when Dad’s voice drifts from under his door along a sliver of yellowlamplight that slices the hallway carpet. He’s still awake. He’ll want a full report. But I gotta get to Mei’s. Wake her up, tell her how I feel and hope she feels the same.

Maybe Dad’s sleep talking. I hold my breath and listen before sneaking past his door but when he laughs and says, “No way—not even close,” I stop.

He never uses actual words when he talks in his sleep. So…who’s he talking to at 1:30 AM? Not a cop—he’d never laugh like that with another cop. I’ve never heard that laugh. I step to the wall around the corner from his room.

“I know,” he sighs, his voice calmer, softer, not his usual in-your-face volume.

Normally, it’s like his words are always being released from a pressure valve but not this time. Definitely not a cop. Not Lex. Not with that kinda sigh.

“I’m trying to figure out how to tell him, but I wanna get him through graduation before I drop this bomb on him, you know? It’s always just been the two of us and I’m not sure how he’ll take it. Glad he’s headed to Stanford so he can hate me from there.”

Whoa. My pulse pounds in my neck. He’s talking about me. Or the me he thinks is going to Stanford. But why would I be mad at him? And who’s on the other end of his freaking phone?

“I know, I know. Yeah. He’s, like, the perfect kid and he’ll get it eventually, but I just feel like I’m lying to him, you know? I made him promise he wouldn’t get a girlfriend, and he hasn’t. Thought it was a safe bet for both of us. But then you came along and completely blew my predictable, boring world apart.”

Hold up.

Girlfriend?

The word screeches around the corner and slams into me, clogs my ears like mud shoved inside them so all I can hear is the word echoing. Dad’s been lying to me. But for how long?All the nights, the talks about girls messing me up. And he’s got a freaking girlfriend?

My heart pounds up my throat with an army of angry words, my jaw clenched as I tune back into the conversation.

“I think you should come out the week after graduation,” Dad says. “You can meet Marcus and I can stop sneaking around. Introduce my two favorite people.” He laughs at something she says, his voice all smooth and full of smile. I wanna picture the girl on the other end but don’t even know what Dad would look for. Thought women were STDs since he always lumps them in the same danger category. But he doesn’t sound like he’s talking to a disease; he sounds infected with words that belong to someone else. His voice is all soft and silky and I wanna barge into his room, but also don’t because he’s talking like he might be wearing lingerie or something.

“No, it’s just…” He does a frustrated growl. “I’m ready for more, Kenna. Way more. Maybe a little less distance between us. See you more often. Like…maybe every day, in person…?” His voice slides into a smile like he’s just hit a home run. “I’d even take being in the same state. Utah’s too far away.”

He’s smiling through the phone to some girl in another state. I know the sound a voice makes when it’s really into a girl—slower, smoother, like the words are candy you wanna bit into but don’t so it’ll last longer. I sounded just like that every time Mei smiled over the phone; her voice pumped through me until I was drunk on her, talking all sloppy and slow and—

“Yeah. I read some interesting verses tonight. I don’t completely understand it all, but it makes me think.” Pause. Swear word. “I’ve gotta go. Marcus’ll be home any minute. Never missed curfew. This kid is definitely not me.” He laughs, then sighs again. “Wish I could be missing my curfew with you right now, but…I’ll call you tomorrow as soon as I can sneak away.” He pauses again and his words float out of his room like germs I inhale that settle in me as nausea.

“Love you, too, baby.”

Holy freak. ‘Love’?‘Baby’? I forget how to swallow and the lump in my throat stretches until I’m gonna choke. He’s at love level? For how long? How long has he been pretending? And lying? Making me give up all the stuff I want because I feel sorry for him, and guilty, and wanna make him proud. I could’ve said yes to Stanford. Could have been with Mei. We’d still be together.

Dad’s the one messing everything up, not Mei

I swerve around the corner, push open his door. His head jerks toward me on the pillow before he sits up, rubbing his hair.

“Hey, M.C. How’d it go?” He slides his hand over his phone on the bed like he can hide the conversation he just had.

“Apparently not long enough.” I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Want me to leave so you can finish talking to your girlfriend about what you should or shouldn’t tell me?”

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