If Only I Had Told Her

I only look at my phone because I know it’s Mom calling. I haven’t even turned off our block yet. Autumn must have already made her excuses and bolted.

“Technically, Mom,” I say instead of hello, “it’s raining and I’m driving, so I shouldn’t have answered.”

“My advice worked, kiddo!” Mom says. “I get one minute to gloat. And it’s barely raining.”

I’d forgotten what she said before leaving for the weekend: “Talk to her.” She’d had a better view on the situation than I did.

Neither mother has ever said anything about us dating in all these years, not directly. That’s the thing about being raised by women: you learn about layers of communication from an early age. Without ever saying it, The Mothers have told me many times that they wished, for my sake, Autumn loved me back. It never occurred to me that maybe they were trying to tell me that she did love me back.

“This was not the outcome I was expecting,” I admit to Mom, trying to share enough to get out of the conversation while saying as little as possible.

“It’s been quite a summer,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah.”

“Claire and I are at our place having some champagne,” Mom says, and I have to stifle another laugh. “Autumn has escaped to her room, and we’ll leave her alone for now. I promise.” Mom pauses. “Should I nudge Claire toward staying late or at our place tonight?”

“Uh, yeah. Sounds good,” I say, blushing. I’d thank my mother for intuiting my clandestine plans and assisting them, but it’s too much for me.

“Okay then,” she says, relieving me. “I’ll let you do what you need to. I love you. I’m proud of you.”

“You always say you’re proud of me for the weirdest things, Mom,” I tell her. “I love you too. Bye.”

I’m going to get two errands done at once by going to that gas station: buying the whole stock of Autumn’s favorite candies and some condoms. I figure the creep’s shift won’t have started yet.

I’m wrong though. I park in the same space as the night before, and I can see him through the window. Does he live here? It’s truly raining now. I’d planned to call Jack on my way to Sylvie’s, but I don’t like to drive and talk on my phone when it’s raining. I pull out my phone and scroll for Jack’s name.

“Hey?” He sounds confused, probably because he told me to call him after I broke up with Sylvie, and he knows it’s too early for that.

“Hi,” I say. “I’ll be at Sylvie’s soon. I was calling to tell you that you were right.”

“Of course I was right,” Jack says. “About what?”

“Autumn and I are the two stupidest people on earth.”

“Wait,” he says. “Huh?”

“She loves me.” I’m so giddy, my voice sounds ridiculous even to my own ears. “We talked about so many things last night, and she had no idea. She never knew. She apologized for middle school, but it wasn’t all her fault. It was mine too—and we’re together now.” I stop short.

There’s silence on the other end. I almost think the call dropped when Jack says, “Are you sure?”

“All the way sure.” I laugh. “I’m serious, dude. We spent all day—trust me. She’s in love me, I swear.”

“Okay. Huh,” Jack says. “Um, well, I’m happy for you? And while you’re happy and distracted, I guess I’ll share my news. Alexis and I have been hooking up again.”

“Oh, come on, Jack,” I say.

“It’s only for the rest of summer!” he insists. “I’m not agreeing to indentured servitude again. It’s just physical.”

“It’s a good thing she’s headed to Carbondale, because otherwise you two would end up accidentally married.”

“Well, when you break it off with Sylvie, Lexy might cut me off,” Jack says. “Especially if you tell her that you’re going out with Princess Autumn Fucking Davis.”

“Don’t call her that,” I say.

“My point is that’s what they call her. I’m only warning you.”

“If Alexis cuts you off because I’m with Autumn, I’ll be doing you both a favor,” I say. “And I already know how rough this is going to be with Sylvie. You’re supposed to be celebrating with me and are failing miserably.”

“I’m happy she apologized,” Jack says.

“She did so much more than that,” I say. “Trust me.”

“I’m happy that you’re happy,” Jack says. “Are you at Sylvie’s yet?”

“I’m making a quick stop. Picking up a few things.” I finally get out of the car and bolt for the door. My hair gets soaked immediately.

“Don’t put it off too long,” Jack says.

“This is an essential errand,” I say as I head for the candy aisle. “Then I’m on my way to Sylvie’s. I probably won’t be able to call you later.”

“Why not?” Jack asks. “You should come by after.”

I’m loading up my arms with the sugar sludge and powder as I answer.

“I’m gonna be with Autumn.” I scan the aisles and realize this place keeps the condoms behind the counter, so I’m going to have to talk to the creep. “I should probably go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, Finn.” Jack sighs. “Later.”

I hang up. Yup, there they are behind the counter.

I should not have assumed this guy wouldn’t start his shift this early. The pay is probably terrible, and the hours are likely long. I’ll simply ask for the condoms and hope he won’t say something gross.

I approach the counter and wait. The creep is making jokes with the customer in front of me. He doesn’t notice me until it’s my turn and I drop the load of sugar onto the counter.

He looks behind me like he’s hoping to see her, and his face falls. I look at the shine of his forehead, not his eyes.

“And some—a twelve pack of condoms.” I try to keep my voice casual.

I hate that this guy intimidates me. His behavior oozes everything I hate about stereotypes of my gender, yet somehow, there’s a part of me that wants to be man enough for him. It’s probably rooted in my dad not being around, but the point is guys like this one make me feel disgusted yet inadequate.

He rings up Autumn’s candy before grabbing the condoms from the shelf behind him. He glances at me with a smirk, trying to catch my eye. I need to tell Autumn the truth about this guy.

I’m so in my head I don’t even hear him speak to me.

“What?”

“Big plans tonight?” He taps the box of condoms with his index finger.

“You are so gross,” I hear myself say, and for a moment, the creep and I are both surprised. “Sorry,” I say, even though I’m not. “Stop leering at teen girls. Meet someone your own age.”

The man’s shiny forehead is suddenly cut by a bright red-purple vein. His mustache wiggles with his fury.

I throw down my money and head out. I vow to always carry cash with me for the rest of my life in case of a similar situation.

The man shouts something after me, but it doesn’t matter what because I’m already sliding into my car. I pull out of the parking lot. I have places to be.