Finally, Forever (13 page)

“I ran into
Dylan a few days ago,” I say. I expect to hear a sympathetic gasp on the other end.

“Really? That’s great,” she says.

I frown.

“No, it’s not. She’s my terminator. It’s like she has
some mission programmed in her brain to search out and destroy me. She is what I need to run from, right?”

There’s a
short pause. “I don’t do science fiction references, Gray. What are you trying to say? Are you still in love with her?”

I look around the police station. I mentally recap the last twenty four hours of my life.

“She annoys me more than ever,” I say.

“So, you’re more in love with her than ever?”
Lenny guesses.

I run my hand through my hair.

“Exactly,” I admit.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem?” I ask. “Should we revisit the last three years, and do you want to ask me that question again?”

“
Gray, I don’t have the time for your one-hundred-and-one relationship theories.”

“Hey, I don’t—”

“If you love her, there’s only one thing to do,” she interrupts me.

“Avoid her?” I say.

“Tell her!” Lenny says. “I always told you, you two are meant for each other. No offense, but shutting her out of your life last summer was a stupid choice.”

I blow out an aggravated sigh in response.

“Ask Dylan how she feels. She’s always honest,” Lenny says. “Maybe she has a plan.”

“
Dylan doesn’t make plans. She unmakes plans. She has planaphobia. The fear of plans.”

“Maybe she overcame this fear. Maybe
Dylan grew up.”

I laugh out loud at this broad misfire.
“Very unlikely,” I say.

“Sometimes you have to have your heart beaten down before you wise up,” Lenny says. “It sucks but it’s true. It’s the only way we learn anything. She broke your heart and then you broke hers. The score’s tied. It’s time for a rematch. How do you like my sports reference?”

“Thanks for dumbing it down so the stupid jock can understand,” I say.

“I try.”

The police officer holds up two fingers to tell me my phone time is almost up. I want to strangle the receiver cord. I feel like Lenny’s taking Dylan’s side. It’s friendship adultery.

“Is this the Shitty Help Hotline?
” I ask. “Sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number. I’m looking for Lenny.” 

She ignores my insult. “
Gray, listen to me. There’s only one thing you need to ask yourself:  Who do you love? That is the most important question you will ever answer in your life.”

Only o
ne image comes to my mind.

“I love
Dylan.”

“Then tell her. I gotta go. I just got to work and I need to shut my phone off.”

I say goodbye and I’m not sure if Lenny helped me out or made me feel worse. I bounce her advice around in my head, like a racket ball, hitting it away only to have it slam back again from another direction.

I walk into the main office and
Dylan is eating some pizza and talking to Officer Dumb Shit Bryan. Her feet are propped up on a plastic desk chair next to him. His elbow is on the table and he’s leaning forward as he talks to her like they’re close friends. I sit down across the table from her and the smell of cheese and pepperoni reminds me I’m starving. Three pizzas are spread out on the long office table and I help myself to a few slices and a can of Diet Pepsi.

“
I’m just confused,” Officer Bryan says. “I really like this girl. We went out on three dates and now she won’t return my calls.” I stare at Dumb Shit. He’s asking for dating advice from the queen of relationship disaster? I stuff my mouth full of pizza before I make a wise crack.

Dylan
looks thoughtful and she sets her pizza down on the paper plate. She gives the conversation her full attention. “That’s your problem,” she says. “Dating.”

I want to say that maybe his problem is living in a town with more prairie dogs per capita than women.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“
Dates are the problem,” she says. “You should never go on dates. You don’t learn anything real about anyone.” She licks grease off of her fingers. “Dates are a scam. Most of my friends use them to go to restaurants or concerts they can’t afford,” Dylan says.

The cop looks over at me and I shrug.

“How do you get to know someone without dating?” he wonders. Officer Greg sits down, helping himself to some pizza. 

“People are a lot like places,”
Dylan says. “Think of it as traveling. When I traveled in Europe, my favorite places to visit were the small towns. I loved Paris and Rome and all the famous cities, but when I was in a small town, I felt like I was starting to understand the country. It’s the same thing with people.”

He thinks
about this. “So how do you hit local spots with a person?”

Dylan shrugs.
“Figure out what they do by themselves. Where do they like to go off-roading? Do they read, cook, run, paint, watch movies? Figure out a way to do those things with them. Just stop dating. That is the secret to dating.”

The cops stare at
her with these enamored expressions. I’m waiting for them to exchange phone numbers. I shake my head and grab another helping of pizza.

Dylan

I walk outside of the police station three hours later, after the authorities were satisfied I was only guilty of stupidly (yet, thoughtfully) picking up a wanted felon (a stranded man in need of help). It turns out Jim robbed three gas stations in Texas. His last robbery was in Kansas, the night before we picked him up.

I stand in front of the entrance of the police department and look
up at the purple-blue sky. Stars are peeking through like pin prick holes in a giant tapestry. The moon is a crescent glow, leaning lazily on its side. I can’t help feeling sorry for Jim, that he won’t see a brilliant sky like this for years.

I hear the door open behind me and
Gray walks out. He stops next to me on the stairs and I open my mouth to say something but he holds up his hand. His fingers almost touch my lips.

“
Dylan, could you just not for a second?”

“Not what?” I ask.

He drops his hand and looks at me. “Not do or say whatever you’re thinking of saying or doing? Not act on every crazy impulse that comes into your head? I’m a little burned out right now.”

I look
down at my feet and nod once.

Gray walks
down the steps, passing me. Over the past twenty-four hours I’ve fallen in love with him all over again and all I’ve managed to do is nearly get him killed the first night and arrested the next.

He turns back to fire a
look at me. “Does this fill your ‘Do one random thing,’ quota for the year, please, God?” he asks.

I turn and take a picture of the police
station sign before I walk down the steps after him. “At least Jim didn’t have a gun in the car,” I note.

Gray
doesn’t respond.

“And it was never loaded in any of the robberies,” I point out.

“Wow, that’s so considerate of him,” Gray says. “He’s a real humanitarian.”

I start to laugh but the heat from
Gray’s eyes makes me catch myself. I feel like I’m staring at a funnel cloud that could spin and touch down at any moment.

“
I feel sorry for him,” I say.

“Why?”
Gray asks.

“He only stole because he was desperate, because he couldn’t see any other way out of his situation. When you don’t have hope, I think it makes you crack.”

“Leave it to you to be philosophical about this,” Gray says and slips his phone in his pocket. “He’s messed up, Dylan. People like that belong locked up.”

“
He’s not evil,” I say. “He has a good side to him.”

“You have way too much of a soft spot for people. An underdog is one thin
g. A crazy criminal who robs at gunpoint is another.”

I nod. “I really learned my lesson today,” I say, looking up at the Amarillo Police Station.

“What’s that?”