“I’m sure. I’ll probably have a black eye.”
“Yeah, I’m Inga. Taber’sgirlfriend.”
Finally, there’s silence as we all look at each other, appraising, all of the puzzle pieces clicking into place.
I am an asshole.
And a fool.
Alice clears her throat. “Toby, Taber isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my brother.”
I don’t want to respond, I want to run out the door of this apartment and never come back. This is yet another stunning example of why I shouldn’t get involved with people; I interfere in spectacularly shitty fashion. “Yeah, I just figured that out,” I whisper, from behind my hands that are covering my face as I try to conjure some dignity out of thin air. “I’m such an idiot.”
When I drop my hands, Alice is beaming and I can’t tell if she’s about to laugh at me and make this whole thing worse, as if that’s possible. But then she says, “Come here, Toby,” and motions with her hand for me to advance on her.
In a daze, I do.
When I reach her, she finds my face with a hand gripping each cheek and pulls my ear down to her mouth. Into which she whispers, “Did you just defend my honor?”
I sigh and answer quietly, “No, I’m pretty sure I just gave your brother a shiner for no reason,” before raising my voice, “Sorry, Taber.” An apology is definitely in order.
He laughs good-naturedly because he’s a maniac. “It’s cool. Inga loves the whole bad boy thing. I’ll probably get lucky before she leaves because she can’t resist the black eye. I should thank you.”
I hear Inga swat at him somewhere behind me and her giggling, “Shut up.”
Challenged by his, “Ouch. What? It’s true.”
And her agreeing, “I know.”
I hear feet shuffling toward the bedroom and just before the door clicks shut, Taber calls out, “Remember when you asked if I thought Toby was a good idea, Alice? Yes, I think Toby’s a good idea.”
I considerone last trip to the comic store but trade it for a trip to Wax Trax with Alice instead, while Taber and Inga christen the black eye. I hold her hand again, fingers interlaced. There’s no rehashing of the recent fiasco, no questioning to re-clarify my misunderstanding. Most of the time when something like what happened today happens, people want to analyze it to death. They ask questions like,Why would you think that?Or,Why would you do something like that?When the only real, honest answer is,I don’t know. I justdid. It feels like Alice understands that sometimes people justdid, and doesn’t expect, or even need, explanation. She’s curious by nature about getting to know people, but her curiosity doesn’t come with a side dish of scrutiny. I get the idea that she respects people for who they are, and where they’ve been, and what they’ve been through. I’ve never met anyone in my life like that. Judgment is part of the game. It’salwayspart of the game. Sometimes itisthe game. The never-ending dodging and hiding to avoid it, which is tiring as hell when everyone is always watching and waiting for me to mess up. Again.
And again.
So trusting Alice is hard.
But goddamn, right this minute, do I ever want to.
We talk about their band, which is, ironically, called Wonderland. She downplays her talent and talks up her brother’s. The same way I’ve overheard Taber talk about her. They’re a well-paired team.
We talk about music in general.
But not once does she make me feel like my past is part of the present conversation. We live in the moment.
And living in the moment feels so odd, so selfish, but also so…good.
Chapter Fifteen
Present,March 1987
Toby
Alice still doesn’t knowwe go to the same school. I haven’t said anything for a few reasons. I want her to make friends and if she starts hanging around with me, that’s unlikely to happen. I’m a loner. Two years ago I pushed the few friends I had away. Well, my anger, resentment, and the perpetual black cloud hanging over me did it for me, and I became known as the asshole. Depression plus introversion equals pariah. No one wants to hang out with the guy who’s dead inside and I don’t want to hang out with them either, so it works out fine.
Which brings me back to my current dilemma—to tell Alice or not to tell Alice.
I agonize over it through English.
