Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [86]
“So that’s the way it is, Logan? I guess it’s all a pervert like me deserves.” She was being sarcastic. Even after everything, I didn’t think she was a pervert. “But if we break up tonight, you’ll regret it. You’ll want me back, and you know what? You won’t be able to have me. Because I’ll be gone. You’ll want me back, and then it’ll be too late. And you’ll just have to sit there and think about what a wonderful thing we had and how you threw it away!”
I turned and leaned on the fence, my back to Sage. After a couple of minutes, I heard her footsteps recede in the distance. As the first drops of warm spring rain began to fall, I stood there in the dark telling myself I’d done the right thing.
I did the right thing.
And maybe, a thousand miles away, my father was looking at a faded picture of a couple of toddlers, telling himself the same thing. And maybe in a month, or a year, or ten years, I’d open a tattered yearbook and say it again.
I did the right thing.
And maybe by then I’d believe it.
chapter thirty
THEY SAY the waiting is the worst part. The dentist, surgery, telling a family member that your girlfriend is really a man … Once you’re through with it, you wonder what you’d been so afraid of.
That wasn’t my case. As I walked home in the drizzling rain, I wondered how I was going to straighten things out with Laura. We’d have to talk about this sooner or later. Or did we?
Laura was staying on campus for the summer. If I avoided talking to her until September and then showed up at Mizzou with no mention of Sage, she’d get the message. Realize that Sage and I had broken up. Believe that Sage was a liar and a drag queen who’d deliberately misled me. Turn Sage into the villain, blame everything on her. I’d look like the victim.
What choice did I have? I couldn’t pretend like Laura’s information didn’t bother me. She’s a guy? That explains the power tools in her makeup case. My sister would never buy it.
I remembered what Sage had said. How I should just tell the truth. Let Laura know that I already knew. Not that I was happy about it, but that I was … accepting?
No way. My feelings for Sage were as jumbled and confused as the wiring job on Jack’s car stereo. One moment, I saw myself standing next to her after college graduation, saw us kissing in our caps and gowns. The next, I felt confused, wondering how I could experience such strong emotions for someone with testicles. How could I explain to my sister, the person I loved most in the world, what I didn’t even understand?
What if Laura thought I liked the fact that Sage was born a boy? What if she thought I was dating her because of her penis? My sister would think I was gay. She’d probably suspect that Sage was just a stepping stone and that the next person I dated would be a big strapping football player named Bruce. Laura would be accepting, all right. Way too accepting.
I’d just have to forget about Sage. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Something would have gone wrong eventually. It would be insane for me to bike over to her house and beg her forgiveness. To call Laura and try to explain things. To forget about everyone else’s opinion for once and only worry about my own feelings.
Sage would survive. I’d survive. We were better off apart. Painful and quick, just like ripping off a Band-Aid. Well, more like gouging a piece of shrapnel out of my stomach, pouring a bottle of gin into the wound, lighting it on fire, and sewing my guts up with a dirty bootlace. But the concept was the same.
Mom was cooking a hamburger casserole when I got back to the trailer.
“Where in the world were you?” she asked, more concerned than angry. “I saw your bag on the couch, but you must have gone out again before I got home.”
“Went for a walk.” I really did not feel like talking or sitting down to dinner.
“In the rain? You’re soaked. Leave a note next time, Logan. So how’s Laura doing?”
I wiped my feet and took off my jacket. “Fine.” She had sex with some guy last night.
“And did you have fun?” Mom prodded.
“Yeah.