That Crazy Kind of Love

The thought of not being able to talk to Harlow or see her when I’d just now resolved myself that I wasn’t going to fight how I felt for her did scare me. She was someone special, and I wanted to keep her in my life.

“Trudeau High.” I doubt she’d heard of it, seeing as we’d moved out of state to have a fresh start. I could see on her expression that she wanted to ask more questions, but she didn’t have to. I’d give up the information to her. “I got expelled, because I got into too many fights.”

I watched as her throat worked when she swallowed, but she didn’t change her expression. “Can I ask what happened with that?”

I cleared my throat that was tightening as embarrassment filled me. I didn’t want to tell her, to say it all out loud. I was apprehensive on what she’d think of me, which was the reason why I hesitated. But in the end, I knew I just needed to get it out in the open.

“My mom has cancer. She’s going through treatments, or she was. She just finished up and we moved here. She wanted a fresh start.” I’d wanted to stay, so she could still see her doctors, but she insisted, found new doctors, and here we were. I stared at Harlow, trying to gauge her reaction to all this. “But growing up, it was just her and me. We didn’t have money, and we rented a shitty little apartment. All through elementary and middle school, even the first part of high school, I was known as trash. I was known as the boy who didn’t have money or the nicest clothes, whose mom worked two jobs at the bars in town to make ends meet.” I cleared my throat and shifted on the seat. I felt weird saying all this out loud. “So the only way for me to survive, do not get beaten down day in and day out, was to fight for survival. So detentions, suspensions, and then finally expulsion landed me in Silver Creek.”

I shrugged, trying to be calm, to play this off like it was nothing. “This is my last chance to not fuck things up. Not only do I need to make something out of myself, but I need to make my mom proud. She’s already been through enough shit that she doesn’t need a son who can’t control his anger when he butts heads with someone.”

There, it was out in the open, and Harlow could do with that information what she wanted. She’d probably never want to see me again. Because who wanted to be friends with someone drawn into so much trouble that they had to start a new school in a different state?

“And because I’ve already told you all of that shit, I might as well also tell you that it wasn’t just in school that I got in trouble. I’ve been in trouble with the police as well, petty things like shoplifting and vandalism.” I had my hands clenched on my lap underneath the table so she wouldn’t see them, wouldn’t see how tense I was over this.

My entire body was tight, my muscles clenched. I was starting to sweat, never in my life having told anybody all this shit, because I never cared enough about someone to be honest with them. Sure, everyone in my old town knew, but here? I was somebody new, someone different. And as she stayed silent, not saying anything, probably processing it all, all the things playing through her mind of the horrible shit I’d done, I felt that tension in me grow.

No doubt, she didn’t need to be involved with someone like me.

“I wish I could say I stole shit, because me and my mother needed to eat. I wish I could say I vandalized other people’s property, because they deserved it at the very least. But the truth is, I had a lot of hate and anger built up, and I took it out on everyone and everything. So I’m trying to make things right, to be a better person now. Better late than never, I guess.” I cleared my throat, shifting back and forth on the seat. And still, she stayed silent. “So all the trouble in school had me being held back. And that’s why I’m a nineteen-year-old trying to finish his senior year, about to be twenty and hoping like hell he graduates to make his mom proud.”

She still had yet to say anything, but the silence was broken up when Mitchell brought over our drinks. He stood there for a second, maybe wanting to talk to her, but I could tell he felt the vibe between us. He excused himself before walking away.

I wrapped my hand around the plastic cup of the strawberry lemonade she’d gotten me, chunks of fruit mixing with the ice. I stared down at it, feeling awkward, fucking hating it.