Page 38 of My Life with the Walter Boys
“Unpredictable,” Riley said.
“Exactly.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Looking down at my hands, I turned them over as if they held the answer that could help me explain how I felt. “I don’t know,” I told her, still struggling. “It’s like I have to keep my guard up 24/7.” I glanced back up at Riley to see if she was following me, but the look on her face said she was lost.
“Why do you need to have your guard up?”
“Because,” I told her, a discouraged sigh hissing out my nose, “I have to be ready.”
“For what? A zombie apocalypse?”
I gave her a look. “No, just stuff. Life stuff.”
“Well,” Riley said, her eyebrows scrunched together. “That seems like a lot of work.”
“What does?” I asked.
“Trying to be ready for everything.”
“Not literally everything,” I told her. “But life’s a lot easier if things run smoothly.”
“Sure,” Riley said, “but it’s also no fun if there aren’t any bumps. Not knowing what’s going to happen every once and a while makes things all the more interesting.”
I was suddenly overwhelmed, the lack of sleep from the past night catching up. “But if you don’t know what’s going to happen,” I said, throwing up my hands in frustration, “if you’re not prepared, that’s when you make mistakes.”
“Mistakes can be good things, though.”
I just looked at her.
“Okay, take me for example,” she said. “I wasn’t prepared, as you like to say, for my first boyfriend. He was older than me, more experienced. We dated for about four months and then he broke my heart.”
“I don’t see how that’s good,” I pointed out.
“Okay, well, maybe that wasn’t the best example,” Riley said, “but if I could do it again, I would.”
“Why?”
“Because he was my first love. Those first four months, as quick as they went, were a whirlwind of bliss. Sometimes you have to let your heart take the lead.”
“But if I can prepare for things—”
Riley laughed. “You can’t prepare for love. It’s not like taking your driver’s test or the SATs. It’s a gift. One that can happen at any moment.”
“How did we even get on this subject?” I asked. “I thought we were talking about my move.”
“We’re talking about it because you’re afraid to take a chance.”
“On what?”
“Just stuff,” she said, echoing my words. “Life stuff.” But there was the tiniest crack of a smile on her face, and I knew she was hinting at something more.
“Riley…” I said, frowning at her.
“What?” she asked, shrugging and faking innocence. “All I’m saying is that you’re too busy worrying about the future. Sometimes, you just gotta feel.”
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