"I do. My mom is a kind and generous person. I worry about her because people take advantage. I love her, so I do what I can to protect her."
"Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"Maybe in your story. But in mine, we look out for each other. And since I tend to be more cynical and distrusting, I end up protecting her from herself."
"What do you mean?"
"My mother's curse is Belief. She believes true love will find her. But that's never going to happen. I've watched her believe she's found the one so many times. But he ends up breaking her heart, leaving a little less of her behind each time. Eventually, there's not going to be any of her left to give to anyone."
Grant is quiet.
I wonder if I've finally said too much. But he did say he prefers honesty ... even if it's unfiltered.
"So these curses, they're the thing we want the most?"
"Essentially. It's the virtue we value above all others. Honesty is my curse, so I can't lie. Yours is Integrity, because you always do what's morally honorable."
"But why are they curses?"
"Because they're also our weaknesses. For example ... Maybe someday you'll be forced to make an impossible decision that challenges your integrity. But then that choice is hard to live with."
"And you ..."
"The truth is already ruining my life. It's the reason I'm at Blackwood." I quickly add before Grant can question me, "Please don't ask me about it. I can't tell you."
"It's that bad?"
"It's one of a few truths I need to protect. Hopefully not always, but for now."
"Protect?" he ponders, almost to himself. "So it has to do with someone else." I remain silent.
"You don't see the world, and probably don't even live it, the way the rest of us do."
I strip a blade of grass from the ground and suddenly find it riveting.
"That's why I'm so drawn to you, you know? You're honest with who you are. No apologies. No excuses. You're different than everyone I've ever known. You said you have a colorful life, and that's just it ... you are colorful. Every single one. I don't know how else to describe it." He laughs. "You told me you're more honest with me than anyone, and I'm not sure why that is, but I want to hear your truths."
"For now," I warn. "Grant, knowing the truth isn't always a good thing."
He contemplates this for a moment. "But it's not the wrong thing either."
"Did you lick the batter from Squirrel's brownie bowl? Because you're opening up a whole other conversation that I may need another brownie to participate in."
Grant laughs. "I just mean, it is what it is. Either you accept it, deal with it, forgive it ... or you don't. It's pretty much that simple."
"You really have been hanging out with Squirrel too much," I tease.
Grant dips me so I'm facing him. "I trust you." I stare at him, dumbfounded.
"What?"
"I trust you." He lowers me so my head is on his lap and I'm looking up at him. He runs a finger along my cheek, sweeping loose hairs away.
"Where did that come from?"
"I don't know. But I needed you to know." He smiles down at me. "So you really don't believe in true love?"
"True love? What does that even mean? I can barely even say the word love without vomiting in my mouth."