Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [40]
“Wait.” She touched my arm, then immediately pulled away. “I guess this is all new to you.”
It was my turn to snort.
“Logan, I’ve never thought of myself as a boy. Not since I knew the difference. I am a girl. It’s some sick damn joke of nature that I wasn’t born with a female body. And you’re not going to see anything there, so stop staring.”
I realized I’d been looking at her crotch.
“Sorry.”
“I don’t expect you to understand. You don’t owe me anything.” She was bitter.
“You weren’t ever going to tell me, were you? Just drag me along, laugh at how you fooled some guy?” Picking up Sage had been a mistake. We were both getting angry and defensive.
Sage turned to me, and I was suddenly very aware that I was not the most powerful person in the car.
“Logan, you think that’s all it was to me? You think I didn’t feel guilty?”
I leaned against the driver’s door. “No …” I cleared my throat. “No. You lied to me.”
“Well, I felt like shit for doing that. I wanted to tell you. Remember when I dragged you out to the cemetery? I was going to tell you then, but I couldn’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
Sage seemed to shrink. “I thought you might beat me up. And I wasn’t being paranoid, was I?”
I recalled, how for the only time in my life, I almost hit a girl. Or almost a girl. I couldn’t excuse that. I should have just stormed out. The second I balled up my fist, I became the bad guy.
“You didn’t hit me, Logan. And, in my defense, I could have let you kiss me a lot earlier. I wanted to.”
“Why did you have to kiss me at all?” I felt like I was grasping for reasons to be pissed. I had to remind myself of Sage’s huge lie.
“You’re not the easiest guy for a girl not to kiss.” Sage abruptly turned away, and we sat for a moment. My earlier feelings for Sage were apparently not one-sided.
Sage spoke again. “Logan, I would have liked to be friends. I guess that can’t happen. But thanks for keeping your cool, and thanks for not telling anyone. I wish I could take back that kiss, but honestly, I’m not sorry.” She turned back and stuck out her jaw defiantly.
“Sage …” This was the end. Our friendship was over, but I was glad it was ending here, now, calmly.
“Logan …” Sage looked like she had more to say, but she didn’t say it.
We looked at each other for a long moment. This was the last time we’d ever talk.
Sage opened the door. The rain had let up. I pulled out as soon as she entered her house.
Brenda’s home was exactly the way I remembered it. Two stories, three-car garage, no abandoned appliances in the yard. Aside from Brenda’s Saturn, I counted three other vehicles in the driveway, but I didn’t think they were having company. A neat row of rosebushes, covered with protective plastic for the winter, lined the side of the house. Their inground pool, the only one in Boyer, was empty.
I never really understood what Brenda’s father did for a living, but he earned a lot. At this home, a trailer was what you used to pull your boat, not something you lived in. It was funny, but her parents had always treated me nicely. This was one of the few places where I hadn’t felt like a poor boy.
The rain had stopped, and I’d been standing in the street for ten minutes trying to swallow my pride and go up and knock. It shouldn’t have been hard; I’d banged on that door every weekend for three years. Eventually, I ran up and pushed the doorbell, fighting an urge to run off giggling.
“Logan!”
I’d forgotten what it was like to be this close to her, to look her right in the face. That long black ponytail. The high cheekbones, the pale skin. Those filthy glasses.
“Hey, Brenda.”
Her surprise turned to worry (or suspicion). “Would you like to come in?”
“Uh, no. I was just passing by. Feel like a quick walk?”
Brenda grabbed her jacket, and we took off down the road. Neither of us spoke. For years, I’d spent every free moment with this girl, and now I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I think the last thing I had told her was that she was a whore, so it was hard to start a conversation.
She ended the silence. “How are Jack and