24. It Had to Be Him?
24
It Had to Be Him?
Luke presses a button on the side of his phone. The screen goes black. He gently removes his phone from my hands.
“Wow,” he says. I see him suck his lips in, but the corners of his mouth turn upward. Not in that almost unnoticeable way but in a very easily noticeable way. He bursts out with a full-belly laugh that makes him clutch at his middle as he doubles over. He must see my expression of horror because he laughs twice as hard, tears beading in his eyes.
I smack him in the arm. “It’s not funny!”
He wipes his eyes. “It’s hilarious.”
“My heart got broken.” I smack him in the arm again.
“Not as badly as the window. This is what you’ve been afraid of?”
“That is the worst moment of my life.”
Luke wipes at his eyes. “It didn’t end up so badly. You’ve still got your scholarship. You’ve got a new job. Your mom and friends have your back. The only thing you don’t have is this Truman guy. I don’t get why he was worth all that effort. You must have spent weeks planning all that.”
“It’s clear you don’t understand.” I spent almost a month making plans, finding the dancers and practicing, ordering the unicorn, and hijacking Campus Books’ audio system. Then there is Campus Books, the Reading Festival, the sculpture, not to mention my pride.
Luke massages his side. “And I gave you a rock for your birthday.”
I shove away from him. “You really are a love Grinch. You’re not taking my pain seriously.”
“You’re taking it too seriously. If you really liked him, why did it need to be this big show?”
“Because telling someone you love them is a climactic moment. It’s fireworks on the Fourth of July or running down the aisle of a packed theatre into your lover’s arms so he can lift you into the air. It’s every feeling you have for that person that’s too immense for your body to contain, turned into reality for this one singular event.”
Luke shakes his head. “If you’re fortunate enough to find the person that can really make you feel that way, everything else should pale in comparison.”
“I think I know a bit more about all this than a love Grinch.”
“I forgot you were the expert, Casanova. Enlighten me. What makes Truman so special that he deserved a whole production? Because I don’t see it.”
I shove Luke’s shoulder. “You don’t even know him.”
“I’m pretty sure I know enough.”
“He’s smart. He was nice to me. He’d tell me what to read so I could talk to him on a higher level. He made me the best version of myself.”
Luke has no clue about Truman. How Truman always saved a seat for me beside him at book club. How Truman always made a point to ask what I was reading. How Truman wrote me a recommendation for Little Elm’s Big Summer Reading Festival’s freshman liaison position and put in a good word with Campus Books’ staff. How Truman and I would put away the chairs at the end of book club before I’d walk him back to his dorm and he’d tell me about the stresses, essays, midterms, and the literary journal like I was in college too. How Truman was the perfect, best, most obvious object of my affection.
I open my mouth to tell Luke all this but instead, “He’s no worse than Roger” shoots out.
Luke doesn’t hesitate to respond. “And you’re more than either of them.”
“Then why didn’t he want me?” I snap.
It’s not like I don’t know the answer. It’s not like I don’t know Scott is accomplished and famous and important. Or that Scott looks more like Roger than he looks like me.
I go to bury my face in my hands, but Luke grips my biceps and says with complete surety, “Because Truman is the type of guy who needs you to wear fake glasses so he can see how smart you are. He could never appreciate how you strut into a college party looking like a tricked-out baseball Ken doll. Or how you can take on some drunk drama student over Shakespeare and school him. Or how you can meet a new guy in town and run down the block to give him a book he’s too ashamed to buy for himself. You’re so much better than any Roger or Truman. You should never feel you have to orchestrate some big spectacle for Truman or anyone else to see your worth.”
But I’ve always been Bobby Ashton who helped people find love. Without that, what would I do? How would I even out the playing field so a guy like me can one day find his own happily ever after? Luke said he didn’t trust in love, and with all my pretenses stripped away, I don’t know if I ever trusted it either to deliver my Prince Charming if I didn’t work for it. Love is for beautiful people in books and movies, not fat, bookish boys who fall into fountains and smash windows.
Luke’s face is so close to mine I know he can see my tears forming. I get a whiff of grapefruit through the chlorine surrounding us.
Instead of a dozen good responses I could reply with, the only thing I can think of to say is, “I didn’t think you noticed my outfit.”
I can feel his breath against my nose as he whispers, “There wasn’t a single person there who couldn’t help but notice you.”
The tears trickle down the side of my nose but with Luke holding my arms I can’t wipe them away. I bite my lip, then brush my tongue across it and stare into Luke’s eyes. Not for a second do his eyes even flit anywhere else.
The memories of being wrong about Tru’s feelings are so fresh, and I know I shouldn’t entertain the idea that Luke could have any interest in a guy like me. A guy who plans a declaration of love and nearly injures everyone in the process. A guy so opposite to Luke in every way. And with or without my fake glasses, I’ve never had a clear read on Luke.
So, I wait for him to do something. To say something.
But the seconds tick on and neither of us make a move.
His eyes soften, the tension across his brows and lids receding. His grip on my arms relaxes. He lets go of my biceps and straightens.
He surprises me when he asks, “Do you want to go swimming?”