I opened the door of that crazy half-yellow car and just sat there, sideways, my feet out and resting on the dirt, leaning forward. But nothing happened. But I still sat there for a long time, hearing and feeling the cars and trucks race past us. They made this sort of sucking wind that pulled our parked car over and kind of rocked it as it settled back again.
Finally I gave up and put my legs back in and closed the door. I shook my head at Brooke and she drove on. I liked her in that moment, because I thought she was going to dredge it all up in words and go into how I was probably just sick from stress, but she didn’t. She kept her mouth shut and left me alone, and, let me tell you, that’s a good quality in a person.
We crossed the state line into Arizona, and then I opened my mouth and said something that I’d had no idea I was about to say. I think it was because I was starting to trust her more, but I can’t say so for a fact. I just know I surprised myself with this next thing that came out of me.
“There was a girl,” I said.
I sat for what felt like a long time, feeling my face burn hot and watching Arizona rush by the window, and she didn’t say anything. I thought it was weird that she didn’t say anything, like she was pretending she never heard me, but looking back I think she was just waiting to see if I wanted to say any more on my own.
Just when I thought the whole thing would drop forever and she would never admit she’d heard me, she all of a sudden said, “Okay. And . . .”
“I’m telling you my long story,” I said.
“Ah,” she said. “Got it.”
“She was just sort of . . . she was different about it. About . . . you know . . . things. I just wanted to be who we were and I didn’t figure it was anybody’s business but ours, but she wasn’t like that. She was into this whole ‘living out loud’ thing. She wanted to be out and proud and right in everybody’s face and I was too ashamed to tell her that my parents were the way they were. I knew it would be bad when I told them. I actually didn’t know it would be that bad. I mean, it’s weird looking back, but the whole getting thrown out onto the street thing really never occurred to me, and now I don’t know why not. It actually occurred to me that they might have somebody kidnap me and take me to one of those conversion camps, but I never thought of this. But I knew it was a terrible, terrible idea to tell them. But . . . you know how it is when you love somebody. Right? I mean, I don’t know you very well, but I’m guessing you do because I figure just about everybody does. But then, I don’t really know all that much, or all that many people, so I don’t know why I’m talking about it like I’m some big expert or something.”
We drove in silence for another few seconds, and again I think maybe she was just giving me the space to say more if I wanted to. I stole a look over at her face and it looked kind of soft, and also like I’d made her really sad with what I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “I know how it is when you love somebody.”
We drove without talking for another minute. I felt pretty done, talking-wise. Hell, I was mostly surprised I’d even said that much.
“Why did you leave Utah?” she asked me after a bit.
“Well, Bodhi wanted to go to LA, and there was winter coming on, and it gets pretty cold where we were. I mean, not like winter winter like where it snows, but it gets down around freezing at night.”
“I guess I meant . . .” But then she trailed off and I thought she’d never tell me what she meant. “I’m just surprised you left if you had someone there.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “I didn’t have her. She dropped me right away after that whole mess came down the way it did.”
“Oh,” she said. “That’s . . .”
I could tell she had an opinion on the situation but she wasn’t quite sure how to say it in a nice way, so I did it for her.
“I know,” I said. “It sucks. It was really bad. She didn’t turn out to be anything like who I thought she was. I thought she loved me, but I was just being really stupid. I look back and I can’t believe how stupid I was being.”
Some of the feelings around that whole thing tried to come up, but I was careful not to let them. You can’t just let them have their way, those kinds of feelings, because they knock you down and then they’re in control, and it’s all over and you might never get up again. You have to be strong and keep them back behind the wall where they belong.
“What was her name?” she asked me.
I was really surprised that she would ask me that, because I had no idea why she would want to know. I guess she was trying to understand the whole thing, or she wanted it to feel more real to her, but I figured she would’ve wanted exactly the opposite.
“Gail,” I said.
It burned coming out. It made my face burn and my arms and legs tingle and my throat get tight, like I was trying to keep it from getting out into the world. I wished I hadn’t said it at all. You can’t just let those feelings have their way.
“First love tends to be a disaster,” she said.
“Really? I thought it was just me.”
“Definitely not just you.”
We didn’t talk for a few miles, and I knew the