Every Day

“We’re going to get through this. Every relationship has a hard part at the beginning. This is our hard part. It’s not like a puzzle piece where there’s an instant fit. With relationships, you have to shape the pieces on each end before they go perfectly together.”

“And your piece changes shape every day.”

“Only physically.”

“I know.” She finally eats one of the fries. “I guess I need to work on my piece more. There’s too much going on. And you being here—that adds to the too much.”

“I’ll go,” I say. “After lunch.”

“It’s not that I want you to. I just think I need you to.”

“I understand,” I say. And I do.

“Good.” She smiles. “Now, tell me about this date you’re going on tonight. If I don’t get to be with you, I want to know who does.”

I’ve texted Dawn to tell her I’m not in school, but the date is still on. We’re meeting for dinner after she’s done with field-hockey practice.

I get back to Vic’s house at the usual time he’d come back home from school. Safe in my room, I feel the usual set of predate jitters. I see that Vic has a large selection of ties in his closet, leading me to believe that he likes wearing them. So I put together a dapper outfit—maybe a little too dapper, but if what I’ve accessed about Dawn is true, I know she’ll appreciate it.

I whittle away the hours online. There’s no new email from Rhiannon, and there are eight new emails from Nathan, none of which I open. Then I go to Vic’s playlists and listen to some of the songs he’s listened to the most. I often find new music this way.

Finally, it’s a little before six and I’m out the door. It’s almost strange how much I’m looking forward to this. I want to be a part of something that works, no matter what the challenge.

Dawn does not disappoint. She loves the way Vic looks, using the word debonair instead of dapper. She is full of news of the day, and full of questions about what I’ve been up to. This is a delicate area—I don’t want him to be caught in a lie later on—so I tell her I simply had the impulse to take the day off. No tests, no hallways, just driving to somewhere I’ve never been before … as long as I was back in time for her. She fully supports this decision, and doesn’t even ask why I didn’t invite her along. This is, I hope, how Vic will remember the day.

I have to access rapid-fire in order to follow all Dawn’s reference points, but even still, it’s a good time. Vic’s memory of her is absolutely correct—she sees him so precisely, so wonderfully, so offhandedly. She doesn’t broadcast her understanding at all. It’s just there.

I know their situation is different from ours. I know I am not Vic, just as Rhiannon is not Dawn. But part of me wants to make the analogy. Part of me wants us to transcend in the same way. Part of me wants love to be that strong, that powerful.

Both Vic and Dawn have their own cars, but at Dawn’s request, Vic follows her home, just so he can walk her to the door and they can have a proper goodnight kiss. I think this is sweet, and go along, walking hand in hand with Dawn up the front steps. I have no idea if her parents are home, but if she doesn’t care, neither do I. We get to the screen door and then hang there for a moment, like a courting couple from the 1950s. Then Dawn leans over and kisses me hard, and I kiss her back hard, and it’s not the door we’re propelled toward but the bushes. She’s pushing me back into the darkness, and I am taking all of her in, and it’s so intense that I lose my mind, or lose track of Vic’s mind so that I’m in my own mind completely, and I am kissing her and feeling it and out of my mouth comes the word Rhiannon. At first I don’t think Dawn’s heard it, but she pulls back for a second and asks me what I just said, and I tell her it’s like the song—doesn’t she know the song?—and I’ve always wondered what that word meant, but this is what it is, this is what it feels like, and Dawn says she has no idea what song I’m talking about, but it doesn’t matter, she’s used to my quirks by now, and I tell her I’ll play it for her later, but in the meantime there’s this and this and this. We are covered in leaves, my tie is caught on a branch, but it’s just so full of life that we don’t mind. We don’t mind any of it.

That night there’s an email from Rhiannon.

A,

Today was awkward, but I think that’s because it feels like a very awkward time. It isn’t about you, and it isn’t about love. It’s about everything crashing together at once. I think you know what I mean.

Let’s try again. But I don’t think it can be at school. I think that’s too much for me. Let’s meet after. Somewhere with no traces of the rest of my life. Only us.

I’m having a hard time imagining how, but I want these pieces to fit.

Love,

R

Day 6024

No alarm wakes me the next day. Instead, I awake to find a mother—someone’s mother, my mother—sitting at the edge of my bed, watching me. She is sorry to wake me, I can see, but that sorrow is a minor part of a much larger sadness. She touches my leg lightly.