Boys & Things

How do you nicely break-up with someone? Cause really, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do it in a way that leaves the dumped feeling happy and good. You can’t really say anything like, oh, I hope we stay friends, or it’s not you, it’s me because those lines have been used so much that they’ve become the douchebag thing to say. But really, sometimes that’s the best way to word something. What if it really isn’t them? What if you really do want to stay friends? Or you really want some time alone to focus on you? Well, too fucking bad for you because if you say any of that, you automatically suck and you guarantee being hated. But you see, I’ve never had this problem. Because I’ve never dumped anyone. Or dated anyone. Besides Ben. Who’s dumping me.

Of course, being dumped for another guy tops the list of What Not to Tell Your Now Ex.

“Excuse me, did I hear you right?” Because I swear, he didn’t just say, ‘I’ve realized I’m gay and want to date Greg from home ec’. Maybe I should have seen it coming. What straight guy willing signs up for home ec? I’m a girl and I don’t even take that wimpy class. Or maybe I should have read more into the signs, like how he wanted to go shopping more than I did or how he always matched his boxers and his socks.

Ben just smiles and me and goes, “It’s okay, EJ. It’s not you. I just don’t like girls. I like boys. Greg, specifically. And he likes me.”

If you looked at Ben, I doubt gay would be the first thing to come to mind. He’s average height and kind of stocky, all jam-packed with muscle. All that muscle goes unused, though. Ben doesn’t like sports. He’s not very good at them either. No, Ben likes cars. And boys, apparently. I don’t know what hurts worse: that he’s gay or that we had sex while he was gay. Did I make him gay? Or was he always gay? And if he was always gay, why the hell did he go out with me in the first place?!

“Um, what? How long have you liked dick, Ben?” Sometimes I say things and they’re meaner than I intend them to be. My dad calls it being blunt. My best friend Kelly says I’m prickly. But mostly I just don’t really like people.

Ben rolls his eyes because he hates it when I get all coarse. Guess that really sucks, don’t it, Ben? It sucks dick, just like you. “If you’re asking because you’re wondering if you made me gay, the answer is no.” But even if I had made him gay, he wouldn’t have told me. Ben is a nice guy, he really is. I don’t understand why he even dated me. Kelly told me it was because I said what he didn’t and that I liked him because he was the nice person I wished I was. But Kelly can go to hell.

“Well, then.” Because what else is there to say? “Well, then.” We’re at the park and it’s really beautiful outside. School ended a week ago and summer has really set in. The sun blazes in the sky and there isn’t a cloud in sight to bring relief from the rays. We’ve been out here a long time and I can feel the sweat gathering under my armpits. Tomorrow, I’ll resemble a lobster because I forgot to put on sunscreen this morning. I was too busy getting out of the house after seeing my dad and Kelly getting horizontal on my couch. I called Ben after that because Ben is who I call when I can’t call Kelly and I definitely can’t call Kelly. Ben came and I ranted and he listened. And then when I was done, he told me he was gay and that he wanted to break up. Because I’m not his type anymore.

It’s been a great day.

“Are you going to be okay?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, of course,” I say in a very off-hand way. “What, like this is a big deal?” I’m overplaying it but who cares? Ben is nice but he’s got what he wanted now. We’re not dating and so he has no obligation to me or my feelings anymore. And what feelings do I have? Nothing. Who needs feelings? Certainly not me. “Puh-lease. Don’t flatter yourself.”

So Ben sighs and pats me on the shoulder, kisses my cheek, and walks to his car. We had sex in that car. That was Ben’s favorite place to have sex. And now he’s going to be having sex with Greg in that car. I wonder who’s gonna have the dick shoved up their ass. I never let Ben try that on me because I thought it was gross and ow, I shit out that hole. Vaginas are there for a reason. Now it occurs to me that Ben might have wanted to try that to experiment. Gross.

I don’t want to go home. What if Kelly and my dad are still on the hobby horse? There’s really nowhere else to go. Ben and Kelly were my only friends. People don’t really like me. I could have called Colin to come and get me but Colin ran away again and he hasn’t come back yet. I don’t know what my brother’s problem is but he hates it at home. Colin hates a lot of things. But he doesn’t hate me. The first time Colin ran off, he was only gone for a few days. He went to stay with his friend Ricky. Then a few months later, he left again. He was gone for a week and I don’t know where he was. This was the fifth time he’s run away and he’s been gone for a month already. Colin always comes back and usually, he’ll call me from a payphone and make sure I’m okay and that I know he’s okay. But he hasn’t yet and I’m worried. Colin is sixteen and he can take care of himself better than I can and I’m almost eighteen.

My phone rings. I recognize the ringtone and I don’t want to pick up. It’s Kelly. They’d been pretty into it when I walked into the living room and saw them macking on the couch, my dad’s hands fumbling up Kelly’s front. I’d been in a deer in the headlights for all of thirty seconds before Kelly looked up and met my eye. That was enough to stir me into action and I got the hell out of Dodge. They could have at least gone in the bedroom. Then maybe I would have thought that Dad was just having his daily dose of tail with someone not my best friend.

If I could dump them like Ben just dumped me, I so would.

I lie down on the bench and close my eyes so the sun doesn’t blind me. It’s only now that I remember that I didn’t just forgot to lather on sunblock, but I forgot to take my vitamins, too. That makes me sound about three years old. Oh, no, Mommy, I forgot my vitamins! But I have the take a vitamin D supplement twice a day since my levels are so low. If I forget for a long period of time, I get really depressed and it’s not pretty. I’m pretty good about remembering things; I like routine. But due to the circumstances, I guess you can’t really blame me for forgetting. Seriously. Walk in on your best friend and 40-something-year-old dad getting it on. You’ll probably forget your pants.

The sun is too strong and even though my eyes are closed, I’m still squinting. So I put my arm over my eyes which guarantees an awkward face tan but at least I’m comfortable. I think I doze off because when someone starts tugging on my arm, the sun is all the way behind me.

“Gnarly sunburn,” says the voice of the only person in the world that Colin likes besides me.

Ricky Armstrong is about fifteen years old but looks ten. He’s shorter than I am and skinnier, too. He has long brown dreadlocks that clash with his boyish face and twinkly blue eyes. He’s pretty annoying most of the time but if Colin likes him, he must be somewhat okay. I sit up in a flash and knock my head against Ricky’s. He takes a step back and glares at me, fixing his hair. My arm is bright red and I figure my face must look pretty funny right about now. And sure enough, Ricky takes one look at me and his glare vanishes into peals of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

Ricky shrugs. “My brother,” he points to a group of guys playing basketball, “Tate, you know Tate, right?” Which is a dumb question because everyone knows Tate. “He’s playing basketball and my ma made him drag me along. Says it’d be good for me to make friends.” He rolls his eyes. “I already got a friend.”

“Speaking of your friend, where the hell is he?” If anyone would know, it’d be Ricky. Colin tells him everything, even the stuff he doesn’t tell me. I resent Ricky for this.

“Beats me,” he says. “I tried the usual places, called the usual people. But he’s really gone all out for this one. No one’s seen him or heard from him.” This worries me. Colin’s smart; he’d tell someone where he went. He’d use someone for help. But if no one knows, then maybe Colin’s really gone this time. This, out of all the things today, makes my heart ache. I have no boyfriend, no best friend, and, as far as I’m concerned, no father. Colin was—is—all I have left.

Ricky must see the change in my face because his blue eyes widen and he tries to backtrack, “I’m sure he’s okay, though. Colin’s smart. He’ll be back.” And he sounds pretty certain but he doesn’t look it. Still, I smile and give the kid a slug on the shoulder.

“Get out of here, Ricky,” I tell him. He grins at me and scampers off. I squint my eyes to see Tate. He’s hard to miss. Tate’s tall and lean, with lots of muscle that he puts to good use. He’s a well-known ladies’ man, which all girls know but none seem to care. And when he screws them over—literally—they cry and wonder why oh why did Tate Armstrong leave them? Because he has such a good track record with girlfriends.

Almost as if he can feel me looking at him, Tate looks over here. He waves. I don’t wave back.

Screw Tate Armstrong. Screw boys.