Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [25]
I paused for a minute, remembering Brenda. Our first kiss. The first time she told me she loved me. Those nights after basketball games when I tried to get her to go out to the rock quarry. When did she start having second thoughts? How many times had she told me she loved me when she didn’t mean it? How many kisses? I hoped to God I’d never find out.
I sighed. Sage had asked for the whole story, so I might as well tell her everything. Opening my eyes, I braced myself for the best part. The really funny part.
“So back in October, Jack came up to me. He was all nervous and stammering, but it was Jack, after all. He said that he was cruising downtown and saw Brenda in a car with some guy out behind the Dollar General.”
Sage no longer looked compassionate; she looked furious. It was probably for the better that she hadn’t been around during the breakup. Brenda might not have been safe.
“So what did you do?” she asked.
“I punched Jack. Right in the gut.” Not very hard, but enough that he’d lost his footing and fallen on his ass right in front of everyone in the parking lot.
Sage looked at me with awe. “You punched him?”
I flicked a dandelion, causing the seeds to spray everywhere. “My best friend. I was that sure he was lying. Brenda and I had never … you know.”
“I know.”
“She’d always stop me. Kept telling me that the time wasn’t right. Telling me that we should wait, that then it would be all the more special when it happened. I never even got to second base. Not that I minded. I mean, I minded, but I was willing to do whatever she asked. And then, one night, she just jumps into the backseat with some prick from Moberly. She’d known him less than a week, and was willing to …” I couldn’t finish. Three years of convincing myself what a great, wonderful guy I was for respecting Brenda like that—never pushing, never insisting, never demanding. What a sap.
“Maybe they didn’t,” offered Sage, as if the idea might not have occurred to me.
“They did. She told me the next day. She tried to be nice about it, but once your girlfriend gets naked with some guy … I haven’t talked to her since.” I stood and began picking up our trash.
“Logan. Listen to me—”
“Please don’t say anything. Seriously.” I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. In fact, I didn’t want to talk about it ever again. Or think about it. Or about Brenda. Maybe that was for the best. There was more to life than wondering what I’d done wrong. Maybe telling the story had helped drive that home, just a bit.
“But … thanks for listening, Sage. I … it was good to get that off my chest.”
Unlike most girls, Sage didn’t force conversation. When we were ready to go, she paused and took my hand.
“Remember, you can always talk to me if you need anything. I promise, Logan.” She smiled and moved in for a hug.
I knew I shouldn’t ask. She’d told me not to talk about it again. But I’d just opened up. Now it was her turn.
“Why were you homeschooled, Sage?”
Sage’s expression didn’t change. “So how are the Chiefs doing this year?”
“I know you told me not to ask …”
“Or the Rams? What’s your favorite team?” She was grinning like a funhouse clown.
“I just thought maybe you’d talk to me.”
“How about baseball? You like the Cardinals?” There was a defiant smirk on her lips. Obviously, her life was still a closed subject. We started walking back to the road.
“Hey, Sage?”
She turned and gave me a real smile. “Yes, Logan?”
“You’ve got leaves on your butt.”
We didn’t talk all the way back to town. It wasn’t the serene silence of earlier. It was heavy. It was like our thoughts had congealed and were hanging in the air like humidity. I wanted to thank Sage for listening. And I almost wanted to holler that she could trust me and tell me her secrets, to let her know that I was worthy of her confidence.
Maybe Sage was thinking her own heavy thoughts.
When we reached the highway, Sage turned to me. “I’m going