Dating Down (12 page)

Flying High

You ready?
X texts.

Quietly, I slip out of the house

3 a.m.

learning myself

liking myself

leaving for another adventure,

I grab a sweater.

August in Chicago's the hottest

time of the year, but early mornings

can be chilly.

We fly up and down

the empty city streets

while others live a dull life

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sleeping
sm
breathing
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in and out

the dim nothingness

coursing through their veins.

We will careen
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in and out
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of adventure.

Another Vespa, another pill

feeling awake and in awe of the

heightened colors of trees,

dewy hues kissing the crosswalks

a real live painting, better than I could paint.

It's the wee hours and I'm

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awake
sm
alive
sm
alert
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alongside my favorite

kindred companion.

X shifts gears and the motor
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juts us forward

one-stroke

two-stroke

engine roaring

racing to our destination.

We have a destination?

A point of no return?

A permanent smile wraps around my face

I wrap my arms around X.

He speeds forward, swaying
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side to side
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stops,

shh!

takes off his helmet

throws the Vespa in neutral.

We Put It in Writing

We glide the bike up the alley

to the back door of a building.

A motion light flicks on.

Ah!

X opens three locks with a series of keys.

Head spinning, stomach

flip

flop

flip

flopping

I watch the flickering light

standing under

a loose light bulb

flick

flicker

flickery

shining down on me.

X kisses my cheek

dim, bright

pretty light

waves me to step inside.

Bye-bye little light!

Inside, I recognize

the back entrance to Café Hex

where he works

where I watch him

where it all began.

The room rests peacefully amid

pounds of coffee, a humming refrigerator, shiny washed vinyl chairs,
lacquered tabletops that smell like Clorox and coffee beans.

Must be what the circus feels like when the

audience goes home

packs up leaving

the bearded lady

all alone.

I spin

round and round

round and round and round

round and round and round and round

enjoying how the red walls blend into the yellow ones.

He watches me twirl closer and closer to him,

eventually, he pulls me in.

Me:
sm
This is breaking and entering.

I tease.

X:
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Not when you've got a key.

Me:
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You're very clever.

We kiss, hug, dance

eat day-old muffins

from the display case,

drink cold coffee.

I find a chalkboard

and draw a girl holding onto a bird

as they fly toward the sun.

X finds a permanent black marker

and writes,
I love you, Henri

on a chair

on the counter

on menus

on my arm.

Officially, his pet name for me.

Gauguin would be happy.

This begins a correspondence

with each other's skin

on a secondhand couch

in the back of the café,

we tell each other the story of our hearts

writing and kissing

peeling off layers of clothes

in search of more places to pen

our love.

Eventually, we run out of skin

and the whirling, twirling, freedom I felt

at the beginning of this journey

fades.

Exhilaration replaced

with a heavy desire to sleep.

Nestled in his arms,

warm in his embrace

lying on the haggard couch,

I give in and sleep.

Sweet dreams.

It would be

a dull life

without him.

In the Harsh Light of Day

The next morning,

a hand grabs my arm,

yanks me off the couch.

Man:
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I'm calling the cops!

The owner.

He shoves my shirt at me,

points to X—

Man:
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You're fired!

We dress while hearing—

Man:
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I'm pressing charges.

You're a disgrace.

How could you have such lack of respect?

Look what you've done to this place.

Look what you've done to your skin!

and worst yet—

Man:
sm
Aren't you Henderson's daughter?

I've seen you on TV.

Even with X, I can't escape

being a Henderson.

Caught

The owner

dials the police

or so he pretends.

X doesn't want to stick around

to find out.

Says they can't book us if we're not here.

Really?

I've never been in trouble before.

Not like this.

So I follow X's lead

sneak out the back

half dressed

partially unzipped

mostly tense

fully freaked out

while thinking

Was the damage that bad?

Didn't seem so last night.

Will I go to jail?

Breaking and entering is illegal.

Even with X, I can't escape

fearing the future

Senator Henderson.

Outside, the Vespa's Gone

X kicks the side of a building,

curses about

the poorhouse

his bad luck

unemployment.

My phone rings.

Miguel.

Crap!

My Dad's rally.

I totally forgot.

I shove my phone in my pocket,

unanswered,

realizing that

in the harsh light of day

I could be grounded

yet again.

Me:
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I better get home.

As I start to run off,

X points to my skin

covered with words

tracked up and down

my arms
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my hands
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my feet
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my legs
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my back.

I'm a mess.

He convinces me to

take a breath

take a minute

take a shower.

His place.

His argument ends with a

peck on my lips.

Who can say no to that?

Arms wrapped tight

around each other's waist

we walk to his place

like Siamese twins conjoined

at the heart.

Coming Clean

I scrub and scrub,

barely fading the black letters

strewn across my body,

our love letter.

I should be freaked out,

Will the owner press charges?

Will he name names?

Could I go to jail?

Instead, I take a long breath,

under the spray of water

and read everything—

Paris or bust!

You + Me

This is just the beginning

You're my favorite drug

Who says drugs are bad?

I smile at that last one, the drug one.

Why'd I get so uptight about everything?

How bad can drugs be?

We're closer now, him and me.

Besides, I did them last night

and the night before

and I'm still here

and still alive

and unharmed.

X is right, this is just the beginning.

I step out of the shower.

Me:
sm
I love you.

He kisses my cheek.

What Also Comes Clean

The weight of the morning

slips away with X's kiss.

That is

until my phone

rings again.

Miguel again.

This time I answer.

Me:
sm
I'm not going to Dad's rally.

Just leave me alone!

Miguel:
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You better be thankful I haven't left you alone!

His voice isn't calm

as usual,

it's rushed,

sharp.

Miguel:
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You're one lucky kid, Samantha Henderson.

Words spray out his mouth

like shots fired.

I hear only one.

Me:
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I'm not a kid.

Miguel:
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You sure you wanna go that route?

He tells me I should be

more concerned with the lucky part.

Lucky that X's boss called the cops

instead of calling the papers.

Miguel:
sm
Officer O'Neil is a friend of your father's.

Tells me how he

got the whole thing

squared away so Dad

will never know my

“criminal activity.”

Miguel:
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And thankfully, neither will the papers.

This shouldn't hurt your dad's campaign.

Most of me is

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happy
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scared
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thankful
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relieved.

Most of me.

The rest of me

doesn't care

about reputations

or keeping my record

squeaky clean.

Me:
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Know what else won't hurt Dad's campaign?

Me. Not showing up to any more rallies.

Miguel:
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I can't tell him that.

Me:
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Make something up

like all you politicians do.

Heaven forbid I tarnish the reputation of

the Senator for the People!

What I Do for the People

I could run home,

give in

fold.

I could turn around,

be polite,

retreat.

I could beg Miguel

not to tell,

surrender.

I could be Safe Sam,

Ho-hum Henderson

Sweet Senator Hopeful's Daughter.

But if I want to be

the me that's

carefree

I cannot

turn around

look back

care

for rallies
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strangers
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promises
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lies.

I can only

care

for X

and me.

Dad chooses to be

for the people.

So I choose to be

for the people

of me.

Instead of Rallies

X:
sm
You ready?

Me:
sm
As I'll ever be.

Night after night

we stroll

for the next few days

party

drift and roll

up to Logan Square

down to Pilsen

Ukranian Village

back to Bucktown.

I'm the belle of the ball

for the people of the party.

Most nights

I'm too high to care

that I'm not where

Dad thinks I should be.

Most nights are

like tonight.

We come and go

start and stop.

I think nothing of it.

Happy to be anywhere

with X.

X:
sm
I need to check in on someone.

Me:
sm
Check away. I'll be here.

I'm outside

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musing
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smiling
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dreaming
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waiting

then

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ducking

behind the Vespa's back wheel

as Miguel

rushes by

tousled hair
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unbuttoned shirt sleeves

tie flung over his shoulder

on his phone
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lost in words.

Miguel:
sm
I'm sure she's coming to the rally.

I promise you I'll find her.

Sorry, sir.

I watch him go

wondering why

he cares about Dad

so deeply.

X returns

wipes his lips

jumps on a new Vespa

and we begin

X:
sm
You ready?

Me:
sm
As I'll ever be.

Leave a Message—Gavin

BEEP.

Gavin:
sm
I'm not leaving a message.

Where are you?

Already left five for George.

Okay, maybe fifteen.

Fine. I called him thirty-ish times.

Sam, he's leaving me.

For real.

Like, real, real.

Hello? Sam?

Can you just call me back?

I need you to stop me from breaking fifty.

Would seventy-five voicemails be crazy?

Can't guarantee I won't do it.

I might!

Sam.

Please. Stop. Me.

Leave a Message—April

BEEP.

April:
sm
Since when do I get the beep?

Okay, so call me.

I'm totally done with Ralph.

For real.

Like, real, real.

Kaput.

The problem with Ralph is …

Well, you know.

Anyway, I did it.

I finally did it!

I did the right thing.

Did I do the right thing?

Leave a Message—Jane

BEEP.

Jane:
sm
Hello?

Hello, Sam?

I think this thing beeped.

My hearing's off right now.

Don't forget how you agreed to watch Melanie.

I have another appointment.

She'll be at the park down the block.

She's with her friend.

They also brought Missy, so make sure

they don't forget her.

I know it's only a few blocks,

but I don't want them walking alone.

Okay, Sam?

Okay.