He holds up his hand. “Wait. Whatever you’re about to say will probably make me forgive you for being so out of touch lately, so can I just say that I’ve been really bummed that you barely even look at me anymore. What happened to us, Zeph? You get this boyfriend and suddenly our friendship isn’t worth your time?”
“Gregg—”
“No. Seriously, Zeph. Some stupid drunken kiss was not enough to make you completely dis me.”
“Things got complicated.” My phone pulses again. I flick it off.
Gregg laughs. “Believe me, I know. I kissed you and then you fell for another dude. It’s a story as old as time. It’s lame. Who needs to rehash it?” He gets up, goes to his record player and selects Blind Faith’s Blind Faith album. Older than old school. Gregg’s the one who turned me on to vinyl. Claims iPods killed the rock star.
“But since you’re with Lani now none of this even matters, right?”
He looks at me hard. “Lani has zero to do with this.” He returns to the couch, sitting closer now. “I wouldn’t have done it, you know. If I’d known. I’d rather have friend Zephyr than no Zephyr. So while I retain the right to be utterly annoyed by your assholery at Waxman’s the other night, I do think I could muster the strength to call a truce in the spirit of Thanksgiving. Now that I’ve said my piece and all.”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck. Of course, Zeph. I’m not the asshole.”
“But I am?”
“I believe I’ve made my thoughts clear on this subject.”
“But can’t you see how you’ve basically done the same thing? Telling me”—I deepen my voice and do a shitty Gregg impression—“that ‘you made your decision and I can make mine.’ And apparently you’ve chosen Lani.” I shift in my seat. “You were the one who blew me off first. You stopped coming to my games. You moved your seat in French. You were the one who changed, Gregg. Not me.”
“Hah! Saying you haven’t changed is like saying that kiss wasn’t a mistake. I admit I went into a kind of self-preserving hiding, but how can you claim to be innocent in all of this?”
“Not totally innocent, but I don’t deserve to be called an asshole. Unless I can call you one too.”
The music swells around us. “Fair enough. It’s exhausting fighting with you, or whatever it is we’ve been doing. I hate it, Zeph.”
“I do too.”
“Then why are we acting like total shitbirds to each other?”
“Like I said, things got complicated. But I could do a truce.”
A shade rolls up over his features, revealing something like relief. Or gratitude? “Well, then at the risk of sounding completely corny on this day of giving thanks, I’m glad you came. I didn’t think you would.” He shakes my leg at the calf. “Now because I really need to change the subject . . . What’s the news from Boston College? Are they begging for you yet?”
“No one’s knocking down the door.”
“They will.”
“I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Why? What’s up?” And the tender way he focuses on my answer reminds me of all the other times I trusted Gregg enough to confide in him. Instances that can’t be forgotten just because of some stupid kiss.
“I’m afraid Boston College won’t want me because of my dad.” It sounds so stupid when I say it that I’m afraid Gregg will laugh, tell me I’m an idiot. But he doesn’t.
He doesn’t break his gaze. “What does one have to do with the other?”
I have known the answer to this question since my father left his note behind like a footprint. “If I wasn’t important enough, vivid enough, special enough to keep my own father from moving on to something else, how can I possibly expect the admissions board at Boston College to see me as anything other than a dull wannabe of a human being?”
Gregg breaks then. His chest cracks. I can see it in the way the force hunches him forward. He grabs my hand and swallows it between the sandwich of his massive grasp. “Christ, Zeph. Is that what you think? That you’re flawed? How could you even believe that for a minute?”
A nervous laugh bursts. “You just called me an asshole a few minutes ago.”
He smiles. “Well, that’s different. That was my bruised ego lashing out.” He squeezes my hand tighter. “Zephyr, your dad left because he lost his shit or something. Whatever it is had exactly nothing to do with you.”
I wish just one atom of my existence could believe that.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Ever since Jimmy split.”