Kyle slumped in his chair, too tired to ask his bones to hold him upright. "Jesus."
"So I've been told." Cade whacked him on the knee. "Now, for your cure."
"Can't wait," he mumbled.
"First, think about what scares you. When you started having doubts last night, what happened?"
"Faith … " He clenched his hands together. "Faith seems to want more than just revenge. Like a relationship, and she probably thinks I have that stuff down. Thing is, I'm pretty sure she's a virgin, too, but she thinks I'm this great … this great … "
"Lover," Cade said. "If you can't say it, you can't do it, man."
"Jesus."
"You keep saying that. I think that means He wants me to help you."
"Okay, fine. Lover. There, I said it." Kyle closed his eyes. Was it hot in here?
"Easy, take a breath. You're fine, Kyle." Cade tapped him on the ankle with his foot again. "Open those eyes. There's no girl here to scare you."
Kyle did as he was asked, pinning Cade with a hard glare. "I'm not afraid of girls."
Cade clapped his hands. "A breakthrough! Outstanding."
"You want me to be pissed with you?"
"Yes." Cade leaned forward, his expression intense. "Because, man, you are one angry son of a bitch. It's seeping out of your pores."
Kyle clenched his fists. There wasn't anything to hit, though. "Of course I'm angry. I'm an eighteen-year-old virgin who hides behind a costume to keep from feeling like hell all day long."
"And how well do you think a pissed-at-the-world guy can let go and enjoy sexy times with a gorgeous lady, huh? No, wait, I'll tell you." Cade jabbed a finger at him. "Never. That's your problem. You're still so damned hurt that you can't even see that people outside your house care about you. You think that you have to be someone else to be worth knowing."
Kyle let out a shaking breath. "That hurt, man."
"Good. You're not going to deal with this unless it hurts." Cade stood and started pacing. "Kyle, you forgot who you are. You shoved away everything you enjoy to hide behind a suit of armor that's choking you day in and day out. I know baseball makes you happy. And gardening does, too. But how many people at school know you have a lawn business?"
"You and Faith," he mumbled. "Oh, and Faith's friend Violet."
"And why's that?"
Kyle's neck, face, and chest burned. "Because I'm too embarrassed to tell anyone."
"Why?" Cade's tone was hard, giving him no quarter, no way out.
"Because I'm worried someone will give me crap about it. That it's weird, or something. Like it's beneath them, and I'm too stupid to get a ‘real job.'"
"Not worried," Cade said, still harsh, still pushing just like a coach would. "Scared. Say it. Say it and own it, then check how you feel."
Kyle jumped up to face him, all the frustration pouring out of him at once. "I am scared, you jackass. Okay? I'm terrified."
Cade patted his shoulder awkwardly. "I know. But here's a secret-so is everyone else. You're pretty awesome, man. Good-looking, athletic, rich as hell, and despite all those character flaws, a nice guy. Don't let someone else's opinion shit on that for you." One corner of Cade's mouth lifted in a sad smile. "I'm goofy, a complete nerd, and totally middle class. But I'll tell you something-I'm willing to trust that other people won't be douches about all my shortcomings and like me for me. And that, my friend, is why I'm good in the sack."
"Because you're goofy and totally middle class?" Kyle asked, finding a sad smile of his own. Hadn't Faith said almost the same thing, about everyone having baggage?
"No, because I trust people. And I work hard to make sure they can trust me. You've made a good step that direction, coming to see me about this. Next step will be to try to fix things with Faith. She'll understand if you give her a chance."
"I hurt her pretty bad."
"Girls are resilient. And another word of wisdom? It's always the quiet ones. Those girls? I'm telling you, they're the best. Don't go for the flirty, bold ones. They're too into themselves. Sweet girls, given the right care and feeding, will blow your mind."
Kyle laughed uncomfortably. "I feel really weird about this conversation."
"As you should." Cade picked the book up off his bed. "Sex manual. My mom gives it to clients who have intimacy issues. I know you know how the mechanics work, but this will help with other stuff. Oh, and Kyle? You need to buy some condoms. That way you don't have an excuse to back out when you're finally ready."
Shaking his head, Kyle took the book. Half the words rearranged themselves on the page. Good thing there were pictures, because he was pretty sure his reading tutors wouldn't help him decipher these pages. "If my grandpa finds this, he'll give me hell for a month."
"No, he won't. Remember-trust people not to be douches. Vulnerability is a good thing. Girls find it pretty sexy, my man."
Kyle tucked the book under his arm, careful not to look at the cover. "This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had."
"But do you feel better?" Cade's expression was hopeful.
Kyle thought it over. For once, starting a relationship with Faith-even kissing her, and maybe more-didn't make him feel all spastic inside. Maybe she'd understand why he did the things he'd done to survive high school. Maybe she wouldn't laugh, or get pissed. "Yeah. Funny enough, I do."
"Good." He beamed. "That'll be eight hundred dollars."
"Ha-ha. How about a burger sometime this week?"
"Can't. I'm running sound for the musical. We perform in two weeks, so I have rehearsal all the freaking time. How about next Sunday?"
He gave Cade a fist bump. "Sunday's good."
He started to go, but Cade stopped him. "Are you going to the musical?"
Good question. "Not sure."
"I think you should. She'd want you there. Really."
Kyle nodded and headed downstairs and out to his car. After he climbed in, he sat for a minute, letting his thoughts settle. He caught sight of the box Mrs. Gladwell had given him. He'd shoved it in the backseat on Saturday, and hadn't opened it. Cade's tough talk about trust and fear convinced him to stop avoiding it.
He pulled off the lid. Inside was a bunch of candy.
And a ticket to the musical on opening night.
When he got home, he went into the living room, feeling bruised all over. Whoever said mental pain doesn't hurt as bad as physical pain was an idiot. He flopped on the couch, his brain too scrambled to settle down. Cade had warned him-he had to be hurt to get better.
He'd been sitting there for twenty minutes before Grandpa came to find him.
"What's got your goat?"
Kyle stared into the gas fireplace in their living room, still in his workout gear. "Nothing."
"Bullshit, kid." Grandpa flopped onto the leather couch next to him. "You're practically comatose. And I hate to break it to you, but you smell like a yak."
Kyle didn't even crack a smile. "You don't know what a yak smells like."
"I was stationed in Vietnam for two years. I know a yak when I smell one."
Kyle closed his eyes and counted to ten. Sometimes that was the only way to deal with the old man. "Fine. I had another blowup with Faith earlier. I keep screwing things up."
Plastic rustled and Grandpa handed him an Oreo. "Eat that. You'll feel better."
"This is a bribe."
"Damn right. And I have more. I'll give you the whole package if you move of your own volition."
"I'm just feeling messed up is all." Kyle ate the Oreo even though he wasn't hungry. "I went to Cade's. He gave me some advice. About Faith mostly, but about other stuff, too."
"He's a smart kid. You gonna listen?" Grandpa asked.
It took him a minute, but Kyle nodded. "I'm beat. I think I'll go to bed."
"Good plan." Grandpa stood and brushed the Oreo crumbs off his lap onto the good Persian rug.
"Rosanna's going to kill you."
"She won't have a chance." He grinned. "I asked Maven to go to San Antonio with me. We're leaving tomorrow. There's a Kansas reunion tour going through there Wednesday night, and I bought front-row seats, thought we'd make a trip of it. That's why I need you to start moving, so I don't have worry about you being alone for a few days."
Kyle jerked in surprise. "Alone? Where's Dad?"
"He's leaving for Chicago, first thing. Some board meeting." Grandpa's expression turned shrewd. "You'll have the place to yourself until Friday afternoon. Use that time to get right with yourself, kid."
Grandpa gave him a bracing pat on the shoulder and wandered back toward his den, whistling "Carry on Wayward Son."
Kyle sank back against the couch. Could he do this? Could he patch things up with Faith? He wanted to, and he knew what it was going to take. At some point, he had to figure this out, and right now seemed like a pretty good time, given the carnage of the last few days.
He'd do anything to erase Faith's hurt expression from his brain and replace it with a memory of her smile. A plan started to form in his mind, but he was going to need some help.