There’s a long pause.
“When did you get back?”I ask.
“Two years ago.”
I do some quick math.
“You signed up for another tour.”
“Sure did,” he says.“Semper Fi and all that.”
“You didn’t want to be career military?”
I’m not sure why we’re talking like this, side-by-side, pretending to look at the stars instead of face-to-face, but I’m too nervous to move.I’m afraid if I do, I’llsomehowend up with my lips on his, and he’ll pull back and laugh and tell me that he hasn’t thought of me that way in years.
“I’m not cut out for it,” he says.“I...didn’t always have the level of respect for my superiors that they preferred.”
“But you signed up for another two years of active duty,” I press.
It’s dumb because it doesn’tmatter, but somehow, it feels like another betrayal.We were together when he signed up in the first place: four years of active duty, four years of being in the reserves.His father had been in the Marines, his grandfather, most of his uncles.AllMarines.
So when I had a complete and total meltdown, he didn’t understand.But I didn’t want him going away for four years, to somewhere dangerous and scary, somewhere that I wouldn’t see him and he might die.I was seventeen, insecure, selfish, and fuckingterrified.
It was our first big fight.I didn’t want him going at all, and I made him swear up and down that when his four years was up he wouldn’t sign up for another tour.
“I signed up the week after you dumped me,” he admits.
I blink.I was pretty surehedumpedme, but I don’t say anything.
“I ended up wishing I hadn’t, to be honest,” he goes on.“But it was the only thing I could think of to do that would really show you I didn’t give a shit about you anymore.”
He’s straightened up now, his head somewhere above mine, still standing behind me.I’m frozen, looking at the stars and not seeing any of them.
He stayed in a war zone just so I’d know he didn’t care about me any more, I think.
That’s not what someone whoactuallydoesn’t care does, and we both know it.
“Except I think you just found out for the first time, so the joke’s on me,” he says, a chuckle in his voice.“I’m sure you’rereallyhurt about something I did years and years ago.I sure showed you.”
I don’t say anything.I wouldn’t say I’mreallyhurt, but I don’t feel nothing.I wish I did.
“Clem?”he says.
“Sorry,” I say.“I didn’t know you were...”
I let my voice trail off, because I’m not really sure what to say.
“I didn’t even know you stayed in the military that long,” I say instead.
I didn’t know it would still kind of hurt my feelings, I think.
“Are you okay?”he asks, because ofcoursehe can still tell when I’m upset.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Clem.”
I stare resolutely at the horizon.
