Living with Jackie Chan (21 page)

“I was such an asshole,” I say when I finish.

“That’s true,” Larry says. “But you didn’t force her, Josh. If she’d asked you to stop, would you have?”

“Of course! But — I shouldn’t have taken her to the van in the first place. It’s all my fault.”

“Don’t you think she knew what you were going to try when she left with you? Don’t you think she knew what you wanted?”

“I don’t know. Yeah. I guess.”

“Look, I’m not saying what you did was right. It wasn’t. But you didn’t rape her.”

“No. I just took advantage of her.”

“Why do you think she went with you if she didn’t want to have sex?”

“I don’t know. I think she wanted . . . more. I think maybe she hoped it would be more than just sex. Maybe she was hoping that after, I’d stick around. Be her boyfriend. Tell her I loved her or something. The way she looked at me after, as I was leaving — yeah. I think that’s what she wanted. She wanted more. And I just left her there.”

“So she was using sex to get love?”

“No! I mean, I think she was hoping sex would get her love. I don’t know. It’s so screwed up.”

“And why did you keep going when it was obvious she wasn’t into it?”

“Like I said, I was an asshole.”

He frowns.

“And it felt good. Even though she wasn’t into it. Obviously. But — yes. I should have stopped. My whole life, her whole life, the baby — everything would be different if I’d stopped. I wouldn’t be here. There wouldn’t be a baby. Her life wouldn’t suck. And it’s all my fault.”

“How do you know her life sucks?”

“You really have to ask?”

He shrugs. “I’m not saying what happened wasn’t awful. But maybe she’s different now. Maybe she changed for the better.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why?”

“Do you think it changed
me
for the better?”

“I don’t know. Did it?”

I stare at him.

“I’m just asking. Look at all you’ve accomplished since you got here. Would any of this have happened if . . . You know.”

“Screwing up someone else’s life is hardly worth anything good that happened to me.”

“Again. You don’t know if you did that, in the end. And also, it’s not
all
your fault. She played a part, too.”

“No.”

“Why no?”

Clover walks in and rubs against me.

“I talked her into it.”

“Listen, Casanova. You’re cute, but you’re not that powerful. She was looking for something just like you were. Only different.”

“It was still wrong.”

“Yeah. It was. But if she hadn’t gotten pregnant, would you be thinking that now?”

I see her face again. That sad, expectant face. It was already haunting me way before I found out she was pregnant. “Yeah,” I say. “I think I would.”

He nods. “That’s right. Because you’re a good person, Josh. You have a good conscience.”

“Right. If I was so good, this never would have happened. I’m no good. Never have been.”

“Yes. You are. You made a mistake. A huge, horrible mistake. But you didn’t intentionally hurt anyone. You’ve paid for it big-time. So has she. That night will probably stay with you both for the rest of your lives. But you don’t have to punish yourself forever. You know that, right?”

I don’t say anything.

“Josh, you can have a girlfriend. You can have sex again. You can live again.”

I shake my head. “I know. I guess. But whenever I start to feel happy, all I can think about is what happened. And how I don’t deserve to feel good.”

“Ever?”

“I don’t know! I can’t figure out how to move beyond it. Or carry it with me, like you said. I can’t get her or the baby out of my head. Every time I hear Benny cry, I see him.”

“See him?”

“Well, who I think is him. I don’t even know. That’s what’s so crazy. That day I found out she went to the hospital to have the baby, I went there. And there was this one baby in the nursery, you know, who didn’t have a name or people all gaga over him, and something just told me that was him.”

“Why didn’t you ask the mom if you could see him?”

“Right.”

“What?”

“I ruined her life, Larry. I couldn’t do that to her.”

“I’ll say it again. How do you know you ruined her life? How would her life be different if this whole thing didn’t happen?”

I think about my two a.m. wake-ups. My panic attacks. The way my heart hurts every time I see or hear a baby. If it’s this hard for me, I know it must be worse for her. She had that baby inside her for nine months. And then she had to give him away.

I shake my head. “I dunno.”

“Maybe you should try to talk to her,” Larry says. “Find out what happened to the baby. Maybe you should try to see him, even.”

I picture the Ellie of my dreams, silently screaming
No.

“I can’t,” I say.

“There are ways. We could get a lawyer. We could talk to the adoption agency.”

“No,” I say again.

“But —”

“I’ve thought about it, all right? It’s all I thought about last summer. Every day. I even wrote a letter to her. To apologize, and find out what happened to the baby. But every time I got close to sending it, I panicked. The thing is, I don’t want to put her through any more pain. And, it’s like, the baby’s not really mine, you know? He never was.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like, when two people want a baby, the minute they get pregnant, the baby is theirs, you know? They start thinking of names and all that stuff. The baby is a he or a she. A member of the family already. But when you don’t want the baby, all you think about is
Oh, my God, what the hell am I going to do?
The baby is an ‘it,’ and all you do is think about how you can get rid of it. You pray that will be the girl’s choice. You might even hope that she has a miscarriage or something. Anything to make it go away. When you think like that, you don’t deserve to see that baby. If you hoped for that, you don’t deserve to see him. You don’t get to be a part of his life.”

“Josh, that’s crazy talk. You know that, right?”

“Why is it crazy?”

“Because people get scared! They think and say all kinds of stuff. There’s nothing wrong with changing your mind!”

“I don’t want to see him. OK? I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to. Just . . . drop it, OK? Please.”

Larry watches me for a long time.

“I only want to help you,” he says. “I know you’re hurting, and it hurts me to see you in so much pain. You wear it on your sleeve, Josh. I can practically feel the pain coming off you.”

“I can handle it,” I say.

But we both know that’s a lie.

The next day at practice, Larry and I are helping the younger kids tie their belts when Stella shows up. The little girls and a few boys swarm her with hugs, as usual. She smiles as she hugs them back, but there’s a sadness in her eyes. All through practice, she avoids me. Larry doesn’t ask us to spar. Instead, he gives us each a different group of kids to work with. When we demonstrate the katas together, I don’t feel like we’re moving in our usual deliberate, dance-like way. I feel like we are puppets dangling from the end of a string that is slowly shredding to a single, thin strand.

After practice, Stella is the first one out of the room. Larry notices and gestures to me to run after her in his unsubtle Larry-like way, mouthing,
Go!

I rush out to the hall and see her turn the corner.

“Stella!” I yell. I sprint down the hall and practically plow her over when I round the corner.

“What?” she says.

“I just wanted to . . . uh . . . talk to you.”

“OK,” she says. When she sees my face up close, she cringes and looks away.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” I say. “Really. But I was afraid he was going to hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but . . .”

“Listen. You’re a sweet friend. I know you were just looking out for me. But I think for a little while, we need to take a break. Britt’s feeling jealous and a little freaked-out about you spying on us and–”

“What? I wasn’t spying on you. God. I came around the corner and saw you. That’s all.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“Of course not. He wants you to hate me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Right.”

“Why can’t you tell him we’re just friends?” I ask. “Just tell him he has nothing to be jealous about.”

“You don’t get it,” she says.

“What?”

She puts her hand on my arm. “He has a reason. To be jealous.”

My arm tingles where she’s touching me. I pull away. Not because I don’t like her touching me. I’m just surprised.

“That’s what I thought,” she says quietly.

“What? No, I —”
I just didn’t think you felt the same way about me.
Say it. Just say it.

“Stella —” I start.

“Forget it. I have to go.” She turns, and takes off down the hall again. I stand there, touching my arm. Realizing I am the biggest idiot in the world.

On the way home, Larry tells me I look like my dog just died.

I explain what happened.

“I knew it!” he says, all excited.

“You don’t get it,” I say. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“
Why not?
Are you
crazy
? She likes you! She really likes you!”

“She’s staying with Britt, Larry.”

“But — she
likes
you! Go after her!”

“No. I’m not that guy.”

“What guy?”

“The guy who steals other guys’ girlfriends. She made her choice. It’s probably for the best, anyway.”

“Why would you
say
that?”

“You really have to ask?”

“Oh, Josh. C’mon. You made one mistake. Sure, the stars were misaligned and it happened to be a pretty dang big mistake. But you can’t live your life by it. You can’t let that one night own you forever.”

We walk on in silence for a bit, then Larry puts his hand on my shoulder.

“You know what you need? Closure. You have to figure out how to move on from this. You have to forgive yourself. But only you can figure out how to do that.”

I wish I knew what it meant to move on. I wish I could remember what it was like before everything happened. When I was just this guy who partied with his friends. Talked about girls. Listened to music. Didn’t worry about the future. Couldn’t care less about the past. But now, it’s like I’m stuck in this void where I can’t go back and change what happened, I can only bring it with me, just like Larry said. It’s like this shadow, following me everywhere, that keeps getting bigger and bigger. Sometimes, I think it’s going to overtake me and swallow me whole.

Sometimes, I wish it would.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Larry says. “When we get home, you’re going to call her and tell her you need to talk. And then you’re going to tell her how you feel. You won’t be stealing her. You’ll be helping her make an informed decision. And believe me, when she knows how you feel, she is going to jump in your arms and declare her love for you. Got it?”

“Right.”

“C’mon!” He tugs my arm and makes me walk faster. But as we near the building, it turns out I don’t need to call her, because she is sitting on the steps, madly texting something on her phone.

Larry elbows me and whispers, “Good luck,” then bounds up the stairs and into the building.

Stella keeps texting.

“Hey,” I say. I sit down next to her.

She stops and slides a few inches away from me. “Um, Britt is going to be here any minute.”

“Oh.” I start to get up, since I know this is my cue to get lost before he sees us together. But then I stop.

“Look,” I say. “I really am sorry about what happened.”

“Just forget it.”

“No, I — I can’t. I mean. I want you to know —”

“Just forget it,” she says again. “Please.”

“I like you,” I blurt out.

She stands up. “Please don’t do this.”

“What?”

“Get me all confused. I’m not breaking up with Britt, OK? I know you think he’s a jerk. But I swear. He’s never acted that way before. He just got really jealous. He was worried about me when he couldn’t reach me. That’s all. You don’t know the other side of him.”

“What side is that?”

“His kind side. He loves me.”

“Wanting to know your every move isn’t love. It’s — ownership.”

She peers down the street.

“See? Right there. What you did just now. Don’t you get what he does to you? You’re always watching out for him, as if you’re going to get in trouble for something.”

“That’s not true.”

“Whatever.”

“Look,” she says. “You’re a great guy. A great friend. But you’re temporary, Josh. You’re leaving as soon as school gets out.”

“So are you.”

“It’s not the same. I still have to come back. And Britt will, too. We live here. But we also applied to the same colleges. We —”

“The same colleges? Really?”

“Yeah. And we both got into one of them, so —”

“But what if you break up? You’re the one who said high-school relationships don’t last.”

“He loves me. He wants us to last.”

“What about you? You keep saying how he feels and what he wants. Where do you fit in?”