“My insatiable little thing, you’re going to be my ruin.”
Devin cuddles me against his chest, kissing my head as I preen in his arms. We lie there in satiated silence, the sun rising in the skies to start a new day. As I lay there, though, his words ring over and over in my head. He meant nothing by them, but they still stung because I let them.
That night my mother was at Skateland, I thought I would lose him. That I would lose everything we’ve had all summer.Him seeing her, seeing how rough, how ragged she is, struck fear in me. I feared he would see that I truly would ruin him—the way she had ruined everything in our lives.
We talked about it a little that night and then more in the days since. I explained how she had been awful to my father until he died. How she had abused and used him all up until there was nothing left. Then she did the same to me. It was my mother’s neglect and the loss of my father that created that chasm of emptiness inside of me.
Devin fills that emptiness. Not just when we’re in bed or when he takes me out on dates. Just sitting with him at home, watching TGIF with cold beers and some Dominoes. If we’re lying in bed talking about being teachers, about loving music or history, he fills more of that emptiness. It is almost gone, even if we’re not together I am more complete than I ever have been.
“I am heading out to finish up at the college,” I tell him as I crawl out of bed as my emotions begin to overwhelm me.
“Let me come with, we can kill two birds with one stone.” he offers with a warm smile as he slides his glasses on, looking as cute and sweet as a schoolboy.
Before we met, I had decided to go back to school. Even when we began seeing each other, that did not change. I promised to give him the summer, because I believed it would be all we had together. Now he is talking about long term. I want that, I do. But I have to stick to what I promised myself before we met—I am going back to school for myself, to do something for me and my own future.
“No. I want to do it on my own. For myself,” I tell him, hoping he understand. I also want a break from him to clear all these scattered thoughts.
Devin watches me for a moment, and I feel as if he suspects something is off. And he’s not wrong. The more I think about his words, and my awful mother’s words, the more I am floodedwith doubt. About myself and my life, about my worthiness to him and everyone else in my life.
Taking a quick shower, I skip makeup and any of the neon colors I usually streak my hair with. I dress a bit more demurely as well, in a cute red jumper with a strawberry dotted button up. Tying on red converse, I kiss him goodbye and head out.
I ignore that voice in my head that tells me it is our last kiss, our last goodbye.
“You can be whoever you want to be,” Jenna’s voice plays in my head, and I hit repeat, hoping it will get me through today.
It takes just a few hours for me to start a whole new life. I enroll in the local college, grateful for the grants I am approved for as well as the stash of money I earned from Purple Heart’s last tour. I talk with a counselor about my classes that will start in just a few weeks, and I even get my textbooks.
Teaching was never something I considered. Until I met Devin. Because after he pointed out the interaction with my fan at the fair, and with how I love music, teaching music makes sense. I am not sure I want to be Debi the Rockstar anymore. I do love being on stage, but I no longer feel as if I need to be onstage to feel as if I count, as if I am worth something.
“You and that new boy getting serious?”
Blinking at the counselor, who was once principal of my junior high and has known me half my life, I frown. Why does she know about him? I nod my head, unable to form an answer. She smiles at me and says how nice that is and how he seems like such a nice boy.
When I go to the bar I sometimes waitress at, one of the regulars who runs the floral shop asks about the romance too. I had noticed a lot of people in town seemed to be talking about it, but I am still taken about. Devin spent those first days after the fair going all over to find me, which was adorable, but it seems everyone is still wondering about us.
“Yes, we’re still seeing each other. He’s great, it’s been great,” I managed even if I am a little embarrassed to be talking about it.
“Such a nice boy,” he repeats the counselor’s opinion. “Weren’t those flowers lovely?”
Nodding because yes, the huge bouquet of flowers he sent me were very beautiful. Bright pink and white carnations that still sit on the dining table where anyone who comes to my little apartment can see. When the florist says they were his handiwork, it somehow dulls their beauty for me.
For the rest of the day, as I go shopping for some more toned-down clothes, as I have lunch with Jenna to get some girl time in, and even when I go to practice for a gig this weekend at the fair, I am asked about Devin. The entire town seems to be talking about us. About this great romance of ours, how good of a guy he is, how sweet it was that he courted me the way he did.
“Why is everyone talking about this?” I snap at my drummer at practice when he asks if I am still seeing the hot teacher.
“People talk in Pine Grove. They always want something to talk about. They will move on to something else, dude, chill out. It’s just cute. You’ve never...I mean, we’ve never seen you stick with a guy so long.”
Once again, I am stung by words that I know are not meant to sting.
No, I have never been with someone for very long. We’ve been seeing each other for less than two months. I guess maybe everyone considers it a miracle I would stay with someone even that long. Or that they would still be sticking around this long. Tears fill my eyes, and I shake off my rage.
“I can’t practice today. I... I might not be at the show tomorrow. I don’t know...I don’t know if I can do any of this anymore.”
Before giving my band, my best friends, the guys who have stuck by my side through everything a chance to respond, I flee. I am good at this part. I am good at turning my back on something and running. I cannot talk about how giving up the band scares me but makes sense for my future. I can’t tell them how I do not want to be Debi the Rockstar for the rest of my life.
All day all I have heard is how good Devin is. What a good guy, what a catch, how he is such a prize. And he is, I know it better than anyone. But what I am hearing is what no one has the guts to say to me.
I amnota good girl, I amnocatch, and certainlynota prize. I do not go home to him. I do not go to Jenna. I just go. I hit the highway, and I don’t bother to look back. Turns out I did learn something from my mama.
