Disarm (14 page)

My senior year of high school came to an end. I was graduating with a surprising 3.8 average and was heading toward a prominent university to study criminal justice. The time came to say good-bye to something I'd loved yet abused all these years: my hair.

It was a month before graduation, but Jason suggested that we go ahead and buzz our hair in anticipation. We went in search of the hair clipper in his dad's stuff but when it came time to use it, we both realized we had no clue.

“How hard could it be?” Jason asked as he held the clipper above my head.

“Don't you need one of these things?” I asked, holding up a plastic guard.

“I don't know.”

I panicked and ducked out of the way when the buzzing began. “Oh hell no. There's no way you're using me as a guinea pig.”

Elsie swept into the bathroom and promptly took hold of the shears. “Gimme.” She picked up a guard and put one on the device. “You were about to shave him bald, dumbass.”

I remember feeling an outpouring of gratitude toward her, and as I watched her hold the clippers above my head, I felt relieved. Somehow I knew I'd be in good hands. Elsie wouldn't do my hair wrong.

She ran her fingers through my hair first, massaging my scalp a little, and thank God I had a beach towel wrapped around me because it gave me an instant boner. Then the buzzing began. I watched her face closely in the mirror as she touched the clippers to my temple so gentle and light, the hair falling away quietly. It didn't even occur to me that my hair was really going to be gone; my entire focus was on Elsie's face, the creamy skin on her cheeks turning a little pink because she knew I was watching her.

When I first met Elsie I thought she was cute in that pinch-cheeks kind of way, but that day, I studied her face in the mirror and realized she had grown into someone truly beautiful. I saw her almost every day so I didn't really notice the subtle changes in her face until then, how her face had thinned a little, making her cheekbones more prominent.

I could barely breathe during that entire fifteen-minute haircut. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure she could feel it through my scalp. She did this thing where she bit her lip when she was clipping around my ears and it drove me absolutely nuts. I wanted so badly to bite down on those lips.

After she was done, she rubbed my scalp again, then faced me in the mirror. She smiled, proud of her handiwork, but her expression softened when our eyes met.

That was when I knew I was a goner. This girl—this young woman—in front of me was going to be my happily ever after, and for a kid heading off to college, that was the scariest feeling in the world.

Whatever terror I was feeling was quickly dashed when I saw the look of sadness on her face. “You okay?” I asked.

She swallowed and nodded. “You just look so different.”

I covered my shaved head with my hands. “It's still me under here.”

“You're gonna have fun in college,” she said and then took off.

“What's her deal?” Jason asked, taking me by surprise. I'd forgotten he was even there.

I only shrugged. My heart was still thudding wildly in my chest, still reminding me that I had made a discovery that doomed me forever. So I used the default guy theory for when a woman was acting a little nuts: “Must be PMS.”

The weekend before Jason and I left for college, the Shermans threw a huge beach party to celebrate. We dug a huge circular trench in the sand, sculpting seating around the edges, then built a bonfire in the center.

The party was fun, but I was always painfully aware of Elsie, of where she was and what she was doing. When the sun was beginning to set, I noticed that she was missing, so I went looking for her.

I found her by the water's edge, walking alone with a sweater wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hey,” I said, approaching her with my hands in my pockets. It was getting cold by then and I had on only a T-shirt.

She looked up at me and smiled. “Hey, I have something for you.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, wondering if I was going to get to kiss her for the first time. Spoiler alert: I don't actually get to kiss her until years later, but at the time, I thought for sure what she was going to give me was a kiss.

“Hold out your hand,” she said and placed a damp pebble on it. Damn it.

“A wonky rock?” I asked, turning it over and over.

“It's sort of shaped like a star,” she said, touching it with her finger. “I just found it.”

I wrapped my palm around it and stuck it in my pocket. “Uh, thanks.” I didn't get it, but whatever floated her boat.

She laughed. “I know it's silly, but I wanted to give it to you so you can remember me when you're in college.”

“I don't need a rock to remember you,” I said. “My head could be filled with rocks and I would still remember you. You could hit me with a huge rock and give me amnesia and I'd still remember you.”

She snorted. “Well, if nothing else, you are that rock. You can look at it and know that even though the elements can change your shape, you're still you at the core.”

I fisted that rock tighter, a lump growing in my throat. “Okay.”

She stepped into my space and wrapped her arms around me. “I'll miss you so much, Henry,” she said, and then, as if realizing what she'd done, pulled away. She was blushing.

My chest felt tight at the knowledge that this was the end of our times together. I decided right then that I'd show her how much she meant to me. As if reading my mind, she closed her eyes and angled her face up as I leaned down toward her.

Jason chose that same moment to come ruin the moment. “Guys, we're breaking out the s'mores,” he called.

“All right,” I said, jumping away from his little sister. “We'll be there in a second.”

Jason just shook his head and left.

I looked at Elsie and imagined her life if I kissed her now, then left for college. What I saw was a vision of her pining for me, refusing to date anyone because she was waiting for my return. It was romantic as hell but it gave me a bit of an ache in the pit of my stomach. There it was again, the salmonella poisoning of guilt.

So I decided to make our lives simpler and give her a chance to enjoy the rest of high school. “Elsie, I can't give you what you want.”

She was taken aback by my words. “Huh?”

“You want me to kiss you, then you'll want me to be your boyfriend, but that's not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” I said, throwing my hands up. I searched for a reason that would effectively close the door in her face. “Because you're like a little sister to me.”

Her face fell, and my stomach hurt even more. “Oh.”

I looked out over the ocean, at the orange sun dipping below the horizon. It was such an appropriate symbol for us right then. “But I really care about you,” I whispered, kicking at the sand. I felt like such a jerk.

“Yeah, whatever,” she said through pursed lips. “I didn't want anything from you, Henry. I just wanted to give you that rock.”

I watched her retreating figure, wishing I hadn't had to be a dick. I wanted to run after her and kiss her silly, but then what would that accomplish? I was leaving. If we got together and then I left for college, it would break her heart.

I never realized until now how I had saved her from that fate once, but it happened years later anyway, when I made her love me, then left for Afghanistan.

Being in college was an experience, I'll tell you that. It was crazy and intense. That heady feeling of freedom goes away the moment you get to class and realize you have to actually do work. ROTC involved a class on Tuesday and Leadership Lab on Thursday, where we learned military customs and courtesies, drill and ceremony. There were fifty of us in the program and we all had to wear our blues on Thursdays for Leadership Lab.

I always thought college was a time to let loose and go wild, but ROTC instilled discipline in us early on, made us aware that our actions directly affected our future. Which is not to say that we were perfect angels the rest of the time. Far from it.

Jason and I were gone for Elsie's birthday that year, so we decided to send her a birthday package. The Shermans were big on birthdays and holidays so they always did something special. This was the fourth year I was around for Elsie's birthday and I didn't intend on punking out.

In the past I'd given her a box of cordial cherries, which she hated. The year after that, we all went to San Francisco to celebrate her birthday and we went to an arcade on the pier. I remember spending nearly ten dollars trying to win this damn teddy bear that she wanted, but I eventually got it. She still has that bear, sitting on her bookshelf in her room at our apartment. The third year I gave her a bracelet I'd bought from some girly store in the mall.

So that year, Jason and I got a shoebox and filled it with stuff we knew she'd like: Pixy Stix, Nerds candy, and a Sims computer game. We bought her a scarf and a matching beret and sparkly nail polish from the mall. Jason felt awful that he couldn't be there for her—that was the first year he'd be missing her birthday—so he really took the effort to go to those stores to find stuff she'd like.

I still felt terrible about the way I'd treated Elsie before I left, so before Jason taped up the box, I sneaked in a cute little card saying sorry, that I was looking forward to seeing her at Thanksgiving.

The semester flew by. I was so busy with school and ROTC I hardly had time to think about Elsie, which was a blessing actually. I didn't have time to worry about what she was doing, who she was seeing. For the first time in a long time, my mind and my heart felt free.

Then Jason and I drove back to California for Thanksgiving and it all changed again. Elsie was all I could think about on that thirty-three hour drive. It took so long that by the time we got to Monterey, we only had two days to spare before we had to head back to Missouri again.

But in those two days, I drank up the sight and sound of Elsie like a drowning man. Enough to last me until Christmas at the very least.

She was standoffish with me, not quite like a stranger but damn well close. I knew then that I'd hurt her more than I'd intended. I ate Thanksgiving dinner at my parents' house. It was one of the few nights of the entire year that I actually broke bread with them. I was miserable. We had a few relatives over for dinner, most of whom I don't even care to mention because they never bothered with me the rest of the year so why should I bother with them at all?

I shoveled my turkey down and snuck out of there as soon as we were done. I'm betting nobody even noticed I was gone.

I went over to the Shermans' house and spent time with them, the entire family relaxing on the oversize sectional as they watched the game. John and Elodie grilled us on school, what we'd done, how we were coping with our studies. All the while Elsie sat in the middle, hugging a pillow to her chest and giving me the side eye. She didn't say a word; she just listened to Jason and me talk, and because I knew she was a captive audience, I told my stories with extra oomph and details to entertain her.

She stayed downstairs with us in the family room even after her parents headed off to bed. She laid on the chaise part of the sectional and said nothing, just flipping through the TV channels until Jason took over and turned on the PlayStation.

I wanted so badly for Jason to leave the room, maybe take a shit or something so that I could talk to Elsie, but the opportunity never presented itself. I never got to ask her if she liked our gift, if she read my card and read between the lines.

She never said anything about it, which I guess meant she never did.

That December I flew home early for Christmas break to see Elsie. It took some fast-talking but I figured my schedule out so I could leave school two days earlier. It was really important that I got to California before Jason because that was the year I'd finally decided I was going to talk to Elsie.

I'd been away enough from her to know that my feelings were holding firm; they weren't going anywhere. So I needed to talk to her and maybe come up with a solution to my problem.

I was torn between wanting her to reciprocate and wanting her to just tell me to move the fuck on because she didn't see me like that anymore.

When I arrived I immediately went to her house. I was about to knock on the front door when she drove up in her little white car. I must have looked different, because the shock on her face was comical. She ran out of that car and jumped into my arms, nearly knocking me back. My heart just about burst at her overjoyed reaction and I thought, maybe, I had a chance.

Then that douchebag boyfriend of hers walked up and she introduced me as just Jason's best friend—not her friend, not the guy she'd been crushing on since she was twelve, just her brother's best friend—and hammered the nail in the coffin. I had to ask myself what the hell I was doing. I was in college; I should be having the time of my life dating and partying. Instead I was pining for this high school girl who only saw me as her brother's best friend.

I'm a little grateful for what happened because it really gave me the kick in the pants that I needed.

I went back to school and really put myself out there. I went to parties, dated girls, and had the time of my life. Jason and I moved in with another guy in this shabby old house off-campus, and somewhere in the move, Elsie's rock got lost. Actually, I think my roommate Hank might have thrown it in the backyard thinking it was just a silly rock. I was torn up over it for about half a second, then I told myself that it
was
just a silly rock. Whatever meaning Elsie had spoken into it was now long gone, along with everything else.

One spring break Jason and I decided to go to Florida and party it up like the rest of the kids our age had been doing for years. We'd heard enough bragging from other guys about their sexual conquests and the amount of alcohol they imbibed. It really made me wonder how it would feel to live my life without worries, so I talked Jason into going. Not that it took much convincing.

We started drinking as soon as we checked into our hotel in Panama City and didn't stop until we got ready to leave. Spring break lived up to expectation in that regard.

We went to all of the beaches. We tried all of the beers. I'm sure I did some damage to my liver that week but I didn't care. I flirted with cute girls wearing little more than triangular pieces of fabric and made out with those who were willing. I had my ass and dick grabbed more times than I could count, and it made me feel like a piece of meat, but what guy doesn't like that?

Jason slept with a girl the first night we were there. They had just met at the bar, and she came to our room and had loud sex on his bed with me sleeping several feet away. I didn't know if she was expecting a threesome but I really wasn't feeling her. Tall blondes are not my thing.

Jason vowed to have a different girl that night after sending the blonde out the door to do the walk of shame. We made a bet on who could get the hotter girl to sleep with him.

Turns out, the girl Jason slept with made a repeat appearance in his bed that night. She ran into us again and apparently Jason wanted seconds. He actually ended up sleeping with only her that weekend. They even kept in touch after spring break, but she went to school in New York, so nothing more happened. I think, though, Jason really fell for that girl.

Me, I picked up a really sexy girl with long brown hair and a deep tan. Man, she was hot. I took her back to the hotel and we fooled around. I was prepared to stop if she didn't want to go all the way but she never said no. Hell, she was begging me to put it in. So I did, and it was exciting and felt good. I hadn't had sex since Nina, so coming into that condom was the best thing that had happened to me since getting into college.

Afterward, as she fell asleep beside me, I felt really strange. I always thought I'd feel like a stud after a one-night stand, but instead I felt like crawling out of my skin. I had just given away a piece of myself to a complete stranger, to someone who would probably just sleep with someone else the next day and I could never get that back. This girl beside me didn't know me, probably didn't even remember my name.

I didn't sleep in my bed that night. I left the room and walked around on the beach just thinking. I was overthinking like usual, I knew that, but I couldn't help it. I kind of internalize things, as you are well aware.

Sometimes I wish I was more like Jason, who was happy-go-lucky and just let the waves of life carry him along. Me, I'm always trying to swim against the tide, always trying to find meaning where there isn't. I wonder sometimes if thinking too much will ruin my life.

God, I hope not.