“Yeah,” I said sadly, like a fool, “first and only.”
Bobby reached out and took one of my hands in both of his big paws. “I know it may not seem this way now, but you don’t need a guy like that to make your life complete.”
I nodded and pinched my eyes with my free hand. I really didn’t want to cry in front of this nice big handsome man, especially after him seeing me at my worst.
Bobby paid the bill and gave me a ride home on the back of his motorcycle. I pretended I was scared and held on extra tight, when in reality I just wanted someone solid to hold onto. I had him drop me off at Petty Crime’s rehearsal garage because my parents thought I was working a shift at Sam’s Club, and I couldn’t very well go home in my rock ‘n’ roll Barbie clothes.
When Bobby saw my surroundings, I think he knew his good advice was in vain and that I’d go back to Seth the very next day, if Seth didn’t come and find me that same night.
Still, like a good champion of lost causes, Bobby pulled out his wallet and gave me his business card. “Keep this on you in case you’re ever in a jam.”
“And you’ll ride in on your dark steed and save me?” I asked with a lofty smile.
He chucked my chin softly. “I’ll do what I can.” Then he gave me an appraising look that was decidedly less like a father and more like a daddy. “And when you turn eighteen, you give me a call. I’ll take you out for a night you’ll never forget.”
His promise sent a ripple of desire through me. I took that as a good sign. It meant I wasn’t as dead inside as I thought.
NOW
Ryan is getting discharged from New Vistas three weeks before me. I’m happy for him and also a little bit worried, as I worry for all of my rehab buddies who must enter back into their unique and sometimes traumatic worlds of temptation. I sneak into Ryan’s room in the early morning of his last day because I want to say goodbye to him without our minders or the other residents listening in.
Ryan seems surprised to see me there in his room, and I suddenly worry I’ve overstepped my boundaries.
In an uncharacteristic show of emotion, I say to him, “I just came by to tell you that I’ve really appreciated having you as a friend in here. I hope you’ll look me up in a month or so so that we can compare notes.”
Ryan looks sketchy about that, glancing everywhere around the room but at me. Again, I wonder what I’ve done wrong.
“What is it?” I ask.
He focuses on the ground between us. “My therapist thinks it’s best if I don’t associate with anyone I met in here.”
I wonder if it’s because of my reputation. Like I’m the bad influence? I try to cover up my hurt feelings with magnanimity. “Of course,” I tell him with a stiff nod. “Your recovery is the most important thing.”
“Yeah, and the things we did…” He shakes his head as though he’d like to erase it from his memory. “I’m not that way, Hiroku.”
It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of it. Also, we didn’t do “things” just one “thing,” and I’d already promised never to mention it.
“Right,” I say, then wonder if Ryan is in denial, and this is his way of dealing with it, by pretending I never existed. Me, the great temptress, the body that everyone wants to fuck. I shouldn’t take it so personally, but it never feels good to get rejected by someone you care about.
“Well, I’d better get back to my room before they realize I’m gone.” I back away toward the door, determined not to put my own drama on Ryan’s shoulders.
“Good luck out there, Hiroku,” Ryan says as his parting words.
“Yeah, man. You too.”
Later, alone in my room, I remember when I first came to New Vistas and memorized the sound of Ryan’s snoring as a way to be comforted in this sterile, cold environment. The way in which I latch onto others’ steady ways in an attempt to steady myself. Always relying on someone else to fill in the gaps and make up for my own deficiencies.
I hope wherever Ryan lands, he finds a way to make peace with himself.
We live in a culture of vicious shame.
Ain’t that the truth?
THEN
The morning after.
I could go the rest of my life without experiencing another morning after. That night after Seth struck me, I curled into a ball on the plaid couch in Seth’s rehearsal garage, writhing and moaning from withdrawal. At some point in the early morning, I texted my mom to tell her I was pulling a double at Sam’s Club. I didn’t know what lies I’d have to spin if Seth didn’t show up.
