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“Just an off night, I guess.” I try to smell the roses, but the scent is worn out. “We’re allowed to have off nights, right? Especially considering…”
“Yeah. Especially considering.”
It’s not the one thing, it’s everything. If he were in the body from the cabin, I would be kissing him good night. If he were the girl-boy from the other day, I wouldn’t be. Or if he were Ashley with her Beyoncé looks. Or if he were Nathan from the basement. I wouldn’t be. And if he were the picture in my mind, this night would have been different. Right now would be different.
It’s not how it should be. But it’s how it is with me. At least until I can get more used to it. If I can get more used to it.
I couldn’t even kiss him goodbye if I wanted to. Not lightly. Not without him coming down to my level.
So instead of trying for that, I raise the roses up. I let him breathe them in instead of a kiss. I try to make it a nice goodbye that way.
“Thanks for the flowers,” I tell him.
“You’re welcome,” he says.
“Tomorrow,” I say.
He nods. “Tomorrow.”
We leave it at that.
—
But is it enough?
We keep saying tomorrow. We keep promising it, even though there’s no way to promise it for sure.
My parents are already asleep when I get home, but the quiet house gives me too much space to think. Dinner and a movie. The most basic elements of a relationship, of dating. But we failed it, didn’t we?
—
I think maybe I’ll feel different in the morning.
I don’t.
I lie there in bed, wondering where A is and what he looks like.
I imagine having to think that every morning. Maybe not for the rest of my life. But even for the rest of high school.
It feels like too much.
—
I email A.
I really want to see you today.
We need to talk.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A emails back to say that today he’s a girl named Lisa, and that he’ll meet me anytime I want. I say after school, and tell him to meet me at this park by my high school.
I spend the whole day wondering what to do. I want A in my life. I know he’s a good thing, and that he cares about me in a way few people have. What we have is love. I’m sure it’s love. But does that mean it can be a relationship? Does that mean we’re bound to be together? Can’t you love someone without being together?
—
After school, I find A on a bench in the park—he’s exactly where I asked him to be. The girl he is today looks like someone I could be friends with—similar style in clothes, similar hair. I still have to adjust, but it’s not as hard, because it’s more familiar.
