“First Milo, now you?”
“Don’t you put that on me. I’m not the reason why you’re about to be alone and unhappy.”
“Fuck you, Gavin!”
“Fuck you, Penny!”
He didn’t turn around—he just stormed off in typical Gavin fashion: petulant, recalcitrant, and a total shithead. People in the parking lot were gawking, appalled, covering their children’s ears. But no one made a move to leave. When Gavin and I got like this, we were like a car wreck by the side of the road, impossible to look away from.
Gavin slid into his ’67 Chevelle and fired up the engine. I hated that car because he loved it so much. It had a black leather interior, a flawless paint job, and tinted windows, like it belonged to some kind of celebrity—which Gavin definitely wasn’t. It was his only possession worth a dime, besides his garage, a few guitars, and a Zippo lighter he swore River Phoenix had given to him at the Viper Room the night of his death.
I ran to the exit and stood in the middle of the lane, daring him to run me over as he ripped out of his parking spot and raced around the corner toward the exit. “We’re not done talking, you coward!”
He slowed but let the car idle while he revved the engine. “Idareyou!” I yelled.
He stuck his head out the window, leaned his tattooed arm against the door, and actuallygrinnedat me.
So smug. What a dick.
“You look ridiculous standing there. Get out of the way!”
I walked toward his window and noticed that his demeanor had completely softened. There was even humor in his expression. He wanted me to block him, and he knew I would.
“Can’t you have a proper fight without running away?”
“You were lecturing me, yet again. I have a mother, thank you. You have a child you can order around... and a husband you can control. I don’t need your shit, okay? Don’t you realize that I’m freaking out, too? I’m going through the hardest time of my life, and you’re making this all about you.”
“You’ve been going through the hardest time of your life for the whole fourteen years I’ve known you.”
“And as my friend, do you think you’re helping my situation right now?” he spat back, his mood shifting once again.
“Don’t even. Don’t you dare act like I haven’t been a good friend to you. You’ve put me in the most awkward situations, you’ve bolted on me, you’ve stopped speaking to me for weeks at a time, but still... I make myself available to you. I’ve beenherefor you, always. And now you’re moving thousands of miles away when I need you most?”
He shook his head slowly. “That’s right, Penny. Youhavebeen here. You’ve been right by my side, lecturing me, rolling your eyes at me, pressuring me to get serious about Briel, all so I could go and fuck up my life even more while you sit in your nice house, with your KitchenAid mixer, your Oracle espresso machine, and your fucking Yellow Lab.”
“Don’t talk about Buckley that way! He’s a good dog. And you love our espresso machine.”
Gavin’s lips turned up at the corners. “You’re so messed up, Penny. You definitely have a chemical imbalance.”
I pointed to my chest, shocked. “Me? Look who’s talking? Please, pull into a parking space. I don’t want to stand here anymore, making a spectacle of myself. Some parent from Milo’s school is probably watching this whole thing. There’ll be whispers at the next PTA meeting. Is that what you want for me?”
“Don’t pretend like you go to PTA meetings. And look around: Everyone’s gone. It’s just us.”
He was right. The parking lot had cleared out. Gavin was sitting in his idling car while I was standing outside his window like a moron.
“I resent you for saying I pushed Briel on you. And yes, for your information, I do go to PTA meetings.”
“Youencouraged me to go out with her, then you needled me about it until I finally did.”
“You were horribly depressed! I thought you were gonna jump off a bridge. I told you to go out with her and to have some fun. She’s a nice girl. I didn’t say turn your life upside down, pack up, and run away with a foreigner! You’re thirty-six years old, Gavin. I think it’s time you grew up.” I shook my head. “God, I can’t believe you.”
He jerked his head back and squinted. “Great band but not totally PC to call someone a foreigner, Penny.” His voice was low.
“Are you going to become a French citizen now, too? You better brush up on your French.”
“Everyone speaks English there.”
“No, they don’t! People always say that, but you’ll see. They might be able to communicate to a degree, but it’s not conversational English.”
