“So, what’s it like to go to a new school for your senior year? I’ve never known anyone who has done that before.”
“It’s fine. I just don’t really care all that much.”
He nods his head to my answers like he hears me, but it also seems like he’s not sure what I mean. I attempt to clarify.
“I’m not a fan of any school, PJ. I’m just counting down the days until graduation.” This he seems to totally get.
He tells me about the teachers, the cliques, the jocks, the bullies, and the school cafeteria. I tell him about seeing the stoners get caught smoking pot in the trees when I was outside for lunch. He loves hearing the story, so I briefly mention the lady at the school office and how she reminded me of a robot.
“That’s it!” I yell, startling PJ.
“What’s it?”
“I knew she reminded me of something, but I couldn’t place what it was earlier today.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense. What does she remind you of?”
“A fembot!”
“A fem-what?”
“A fembot. From The Bionic Woman. It’s a TV show from the seventies, and I’ve watched the reruns with my mom a thousand times. My mom loves Lindsay Wagner. They have the same name except my mom spells hers with an e and Bionic Lindsay spells her name with an a.”
“Okay,” he says. “I have no idea who Lindsay Wagner is, and I certainly don’t know about any fembots.”
I pull my phone from my back pocket and pull up a YouTube clip to show him. I pick the scene where the fembot gets her face ripped off to reveal the robot underneath. He bursts out laughing. It’s infectious, and I laugh too. We’re in hysterics for what feels like ten minutes. I feel happy and free. I’m having a nice time, and then it hits me. Oh my God! This might be a date.
“Clearly, you’ve got a cool mom. My mom is boring. She watches bad reality television like The Bachelor or The Real Housewives of This and That. Is your dad cool too?”
Uh oh.
“Well…I don’t see him much.” Heat rushes to my cheeks. It’s hard to talk about my parents, but I decide to be brave and carry on. “My parents are divorced. My mom is a lesbian.”
I brace myself for PJ’s reaction. I don’t usually offer up this much personal intel on my family. When it has come up in the past, kids have been super cruel. But I only see kindness in PJ’s eyes, so I continue. “Mom came out when I was around two. I guess it must have taken a lot of courage back then to ask for a divorce, move out, and raise a kid alone.”
“Absolutely it did. Your mom sounds very brave. I’m seriously impressed.” PJ leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. “So, how did your dad take the news?”
“Honestly, I don’t think he cared. He didn’t fight or try to convince her to stay. At least that’s what I’ve been told. I’m not sure he even wanted kids. I barely saw him growing up. His life was always in flux. Each new girlfriend had him moving to a new city—usually for the length of the relationship. They never lasted for more than a year or so.”
“Ah. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It never bothered me much. Funny thing, though, he is back in Maryland, alone, for the first time in several years. He claims he moved back to have a relationship with me, but I still barely see him. He’s a pharmaceutical rep and travels constantly. Once in a while, we see a movie together or go for pizza. It’s fine. We talk about music or TV shows, but nothing too deep.”
“Hey, that sounds like a somewhat positive step forward in your relationship.”
“I guess. Surprisingly, he came to Mom and Carole’s wedding last year. Carole’s my stepmom, by the way. I couldn’t believe they invited him in the first place. But Mom insisted. She said it wasn’t his fault she was in the closet when she married him. I was convinced he wouldn’t show up but, lo and behold, he did.”
“That must have been awkward.”
“It was for me. He had a great time laughing, drinking, and unsuccessfully trying to pick up some of Mom’s lesbian friends. I could have died when he shouted over the DJ, Are there any straight women here tonight?”
PJ laughs and slurps the last of the mango tea. He’s left with a pile of ice and boba in the bottom of his cup.
“Sorry, I loved the drink, just not the tapioca part. Want my bubbles?”
He smiles and holds his cup out to me. I hesitate before taking it. We only met a few hours ago. It seems a bit too intimate to be sharing straws so soon. We’re not friends. Yet. But I take the cup from him anyway and begin sucking the tapioca balls up the straw. It gives me an immediate rush to put my lips on the straw that was just in his mouth. There’s a stirring in my shorts, and I quickly sit on a bench before he notices.
He sits next to me and asks why I wasn’t at school yesterday. It’s hard to tell him that I don’t have a good answer. I stall by looking down at my feet in silence for a moment, then blurt out that I got scared and couldn’t make myself walk through the front door of the school.
