Forever for a Year (27 page)

“Trevor. Great. But you're doing a lot of other stuff. Are you being nice to her? Making sure she's happy?”

“I try … but I'm not good at making her have orgasms.…” I can't believe I just said the word “orgasms” to my crazy mother. Shit.

“No teenage boy in the world is. I'm sure you are very nice and courteous. Keep communicating with her like I said, but I didn't really mean if she was happy sexually. I meant, why don't you take her somewhere special? Somewhere besides pizza in Riverbend?”

“Like what?”

“Like … take her downtown. Take the train downtown next weekend. Have her dress up. Make a reservation at a popular restaurant on Rush Street or Michigan Avenue or maybe ask Dad about the Metropolitan Club. Hold her hand. And then, when you get home, kiss her good night without taking her to the basement.”

Goddammit, did I feel stupid! How could she presume so much? She didn't know what we were doing in the basement. She didn't know what Carolina really felt. She thought she knew everything, but she knew nothing. I hated my mom.

For a minute.

Damn. I thought about it. And I just sat there. The heat in my skull cooled. And my mom didn't say anything. I looked at her. Looked at my mom. She was pretty great. What if she had really died when she tried … and I started crying. I had never cried before about it. It was so dumb not to cry about it then. And so dumb to cry about it now.

“Why are you crying, Trevor?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, then I curled up, and laid my head near hers. She kissed my forehead. It was the first time I can remember us hugging or kissing since before she tried to kill herself.

 

53

Carolina takes a train ride

On Sunday night, the Sunday after Thanksgiving, Trevor texted me:

TREVOR

Are you free next Saturday?

Obviously I was free. I had no life but Trevor.

ME

You know I am.

But then:

TREVOR

Not just night. The whole day.

Now, this was weird. He was being weird.

ME

Yeah. Why?

And then:

TREVOR

Because I'm planning something

special.

And, oh my gosh, my brain got super excited. Special? Like what? So I texted him to tell me what, but he said it was a surprise. Which only made me more excited. Then I thought Trevor didn't know how to plan something special. So I demanded he tell me or I would be mad. I didn't want to spend a week getting excited and then be disappointed. He should disappoint me today! But he texted:

TREVOR

Then you'll have to get mad because

I'm not telling you  ;)

Oh my gosh! Trevor didn't care that I would get mad! How could my boyfriend not care that I would get mad? But then I realized I was smiling. Grinning. Just a small one. Wait a minute: Did I like that he didn't care? That would be crazy. But I think I did. I liked that he was being secretive. I liked that I had to guess. Oh my gosh, am I screwed up or what? I didn't care. Being screwed up and excited about your boyfriend is much better than being normal and bored with him.

*   *   *

So on the following Saturday, Trevor picked me up (with his dad sitting in back) and, at first, I thought we were just driving into Riverbend to see a movie, but we drove past the theater and stopped at the train station.

“Are we going on the train?”

“How'd you figure that out?” Trevor said, smiling, but still, he was being sarcastic with me. Which … I kind of liked. As we were waiting on the platform, I asked, “Where are we going?”

“On the train,” he said. OH, HE WAS DRIVING ME CRAZY!

“WHERE on the train are we going, Trevor?”

“You'll see, babe,” he said, then winked. Trevor was being so cool. Again. I mean, he was always cool, I guess. But then I fell in love with him and found out everything about him and I had seen him naked a thousand times and heard him pee and seen him sleep and seen him after he woke up and seen him with saliva on his face and smelled his farts and, I don't know, he was Trevor then and not this cool, handsome new boy. But today … he was that boy again. I had to kiss him. Just had to. A big kiss. Gosh. This was amazing.

*   *   *

So we took the train into Chicago. And we got out at Union Station. I had never gone downtown on the train without my parents before, so it felt very grown-up. Then we took a cab to Michigan Avenue and we walked along the street and went into all the fancy shops, like Macy's and Saks Fifth Avenue, and he said, “I'd like to buy you a dress.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“But how will you pay for it?”

“I've saved money.”

“But—”

“And you have to spend at least one hundred dollars.”

“Trevor!”

“Carolina!” he said. Mocking me! Mocking me! And I liked it!

“Trevor, why are you being so nice?”

“Because I love you.”

“Oh gosh, I love you so much.”

“You do?” he said, and I could tell he wasn't joking. He was really asking. Oh my gosh. Trevor knew I had been thinking bad thoughts about us. He knew. Obviously he knew. He's my soul mate. Soul mates always know.

“I love you so much, so much, so much, so much, and I just forgot to show it the right way. I'm sorry, you are the most amazing boy ever, and I'm the luckiest girl ever, and I'm so happy I want to cry.” And then I cried.

*   *   *

After he bought me a yellow one-shoulder dress from Saks, we took a cab to the Willis Tower. Which used to be the Sears Tower and the tallest building in the world. We went up super high to the Metropolitan Club and he gave the hostess his name, and she said, “Right this way, Mr. Santos,” and then she walked us to a table that overlooked the entire city and Lake Michigan from all the way up in the clouds. This was now my favorite day of my life, and I wanted to marry him right then and I wanted to kiss him and be close to him and do everything with him.

On the train ride home, I thought we should have sex tonight. Yes. I know I said I would wait until my birthday. But today I felt so, so grown-up. I felt eighteen. Even older maybe. Today was THE special day. It was. At the train station in Riverbend, his mom picked us up. She got in the back and let Trevor drive us.

“Did you have fun?” she asked.

“It was the best day of my life,” I said.

“I'm glad. Trevor spent a lot of time thinking about it.”

“My mom helped a little,” Trevor said. Everything was perfect again. His mom liked me again. Trevor was cool again. I was in love again. (I had never stopped! I'm just saying I FELT it again.)

Except … Trevor took me straight to my house. I didn't know what to say. He didn't want to kiss me? He didn't want to go into the basement like we always did? He didn't find me attractive anymore?

At my house, he got out and walked me to the door. I finally had to ask, “You didn't want to hook up tonight?”

“I just wanted you to know I could have a great date with you without hooking up.”

“Really?” I said, and I almost started crying. Gosh. But I didn't.

“Yes.”

“You made me feel sooo special today, Trevor. Like we were special together too.”

“I'm glad.”

“So can we go back to your house now and go to the basement?”

He laughed. Laughed!

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because I thought you were tired of doing sex stuff with me.”

“I'm not!” I said, even though I had been. But now I wanted it more than I ever had before. Like I needed him. Gosh. Gosh. Gosh.

“I'm glad. But I still want to wait today.”

“Why are you being so different? Do you not find me attractive anymore?”

“Carolina … you're the sexiest girl in the universe.”

“I don't believe you,” I said. Why was I acting so pathetic now? BECAUSE MY BOYFRIEND DIDN'T WANT TO HOOK UP WITH ME!

“Carolina … I've … been … excited almost the entire day with you.”

“Down there?”

“Yep.”

“Even though we weren't making out?”

“Yep.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Does that make me strange?”

“No,” I said. “That makes me feel good.”

“Really?” he said.

“Yeah. Does that make me weird?”

“No. I like it. So much. But I should go. My mom is waiting.”

“Oh … okay,” I said, then Trevor kissed me and went back to his car.

*   *   *

When I got to my room, I missed Trevor so much. I wished I were with him so much. I wished we were naked in his basement. I wished I could make him feel good so he'd know how much I loved him. So … gosh … I put on my new dress, and I, uh, pulled the single strap over my shoulder and I hiked the skirt up so it was almost to my underwear. And then …

I took a picture in the mirror.

OH MY GOSH. I said I would never do this. You read about this stuff in the news. You read about this STUPID girl who took sexy pictures and sent them to a boy and then those pictures got sent around and everyone calls her a slut and her life is over and she has to move or something. But I ignored EVERY SMART PART OF MY BRAIN and texted Trevor the picture. I just had to. I just had to make him happy. Would that make him happy? I don't even know and I sent it anyway. And then I waited and Trevor texted me:

TREVOR

You are the sexiest girl to ever walk

the earth.

And for one second I hated myself. Hated myself that I sent the picture. But also hated that I loved his compliment so much. Why can't girls just be strong and smart and successful? Why do we have to be sexy too? But we do. Or I do. I want to be sexy. I hate that I do. But I do. And I loved that Trevor made me want to be sexy for him. Again. Or more. Or in a new way.

 

54

Trevor goes to dinner

My special train ride date into Chicago had worked. Really worked. Carolina sent me a sexy picture. She made me promise not to show anyone, which she didn't need to ask because I'd literally rather cut off my hand than show anyone a sexy picture of Carolina. Why would I want other boys to know how sexy she is? Then they would want her and I would have competition. Maybe not. But either way, no way would I show anyone. I would never betray her like that. Ever.

The next couple weeks, Carolina would text me fun stuff like “thinking of being naked with you” and “wish we were in your basement right now.” She even sent me a few more pictures. Never of any actual naked private parts. You know, boobs or butt or anything. But what she sent was better. It made me have to imagine what I couldn't see. Made me think of her all the time. Made me think I'd be happy the rest of my life as long as Carolina was my girl.

*   *   *

The following weekend she said we should have a dinner with our parents. When she brought it up, the skin on my face sucked back all at once. Like it wanted to peel away from her even though my actual brain didn't think it was such a bad idea. Yeah, a couple months ago, it would have been the crappiest idea ever. No way would I want to expose her parents to my mom's nuttiness. But my mom had been awesome the past month. She had been a real mom. Better than a real mom. She had given me insights and truths that I bet no other mom would ever give. Because she wanted to treat me with respect. I loved it. I loved her again, maybe. I never stopped loving her. I guess I trusted her again, which is more important than love because it has to be earned.

So that's why I said yes. Yes, we could have our parents all meet. Carolina was so excited, it got me excited.

“Should we tell them we're engaged?” she yelped out.

“Yes.”

“I'm serious!”

“Me too.”

“You're not serious, Trevor,” she said.

“You're not either,” I said.

“But someday I will be.”

Then I said something my old self would have fucking shot myself for saying: “Someday I'll spend the rest of my life with you, Carolina.” She did that “awww” thing girls do and then leaped into my arms.

*   *   *

On the Friday before Christmas, my parents, Lily, and I met Carolina and her parents at an Italian restaurant called Pontarelli's in town. My dad said the Fishers should choose the restaurant. He didn't say why, but I knew: my dad didn't want to choose a restaurant Carolina's parents might find expensive.

We got to the restaurant first. I was too stressed out not to force my family to arrive early. But the Fishers were ten minutes late. As we waited, I started obsessing about my mom seeing Carolina's dad for the first time since high school. What if they had been in love? What if they'd had sex? Would it be awkward? Crap. What if they fell back in love at first sight and tore apart our families and then Carolina and I would feel responsible, and … Screw it, I wasn't going to think about it.

Turns out I worried for nothing. When Carolina's parents walked in, all four adults stood up, shook hands with sort of fake smiles, then sat back down. I didn't notice one look between my mom and Scott.

Lily said, “This is all so exciting,” and everyone laughed because she's the best. Carolina and I sat next to each other, but we didn't say much. All I could do was hope my mom didn't start acting like she'd rather be dead than at dinner with strangers. Carolina had this strange smile frozen on her, like she couldn't decide what she was feeling, so she would just grin through everything. After the adults talked about “how wonderful it is that we found first love” and what to order for appetizers, Carolina's mom said, “Ashley, Scott says you two knew each other in high school. What an amazingly small world we live in.”