name so sheâd know I was serious. She didnât answer, and she didnât look good. She just waited for me to continue. âThat song I wroteââ
âHarry,â she cut me off, âdonât. I canâtââ
She looked like she was going to cry, and I wasnât sure what to do, so I pulled over. We were on Central Avenue, near the racetrack.
Turns out I was reading her expression all wrong. Crying wasnât what she had in mind. For the second time in my life, Cheyenne Belle threw up all over me and my stuff.
If youâve never been puked on, itâs pretty disgusting. But for me, it wasnât about the vomit. The other time Chey threw up on me was also at the exact moment I tried to talk about my feelings for her. I know Iâm repulsive, but this was the girl whoâd kissed me. I canât be that repulsive, can I? The answer to that question, in case youâre wondering, is a resounding yes.
Chey helped me clean up the mess, apologizing the whole time. We rolled down the windows and, even though it was cold out, blasted the AC to get the smell out as I drove the last couple of blocks to her house. She didnât say anything on the ride over or when she got out of the car. She just gave me a sad, backward glance. Like the Lorax.
CHEYENNE BELLE
I was pretty sure it wasnât morning sickness. That had more or less ended a couple of weeks before, and, besides, this felt different. It was more like puking from a fever, you know? I figured maybe I was getting the flu.
I felt really bad about the mess in Harryâs car and did my best to help him clean it up. Then he dropped me off at home.
My mother was bitching at me about something or other the second I walked through the door, but I just ignored her and went straight to my room and fell asleep.
I had this really vivid dream that I was being chased by a pair of sneakers. There wasnât anyone in them, just a pair of sneakers. I donât know why I was so terrified of them, but I was. That had to be the most restless sleep Iâve ever had.
HARBINGER JONES
I watched Chey get safely inside, and then I just started driving. I wasnât at all conscious of my surroundings.
It was a lot like this one night in Athens when everything felt like it was spinning out of control and I just walked aimlessly. I wound up at a phone booth downtown and called Dr. Kenny. That night, everything in the world was hyperreal. On this day, it all sort of disappeared.
By the time Iâd zoned back in, Iâd made it all the way to the Kensico Dam, like fifteen miles away. It was kind of scary that Iâd driven that far without any real understanding of how Iâd gone from point A to point B. I parked the car, got out, wandered into the damâs main plaza, and sat down on a low stone wall.
It was early November, it was gray, and it was getting cold. I wasnât dressed for the weather, but I was feeling numb and didnât really notice. I started listing all the things I couldnât control:
Thing I Couldnât Control #1:
I was never going to stop wanting Chey,
needing Chey, and loving Chey.
(Three out of three ainât bad,
either, Meat Loaf.)
Thing I Couldnât Control #2:
Cheyenne was never
going to love me back.
Thing I Couldnât Control #3:
Chey and Johnny were going
to be together forever.
I could feel the world disappearing even more, so I started on one of my lists to help me calm down. It was the periodic table, rearranged to put the elements in alphabetical order.
Actinium
Aluminum
Americium
It was starting to work; my heart was retreating from the redline. But something inside me made me stop. That kind of freaked me out, because once I got going on a list, I never stopped. Ever. But this time I just couldnât go any further.
Strike that. Not that I couldnât go any further; I didnât want to.
I was tired of the lists. Tired of preventing myself from
âHarry,â she cut me off, âdonât. I canâtââ
She looked like she was going to cry, and I wasnât sure what to do, so I pulled over. We were on Central Avenue, near the racetrack.
Turns out I was reading her expression all wrong. Crying wasnât what she had in mind. For the second time in my life, Cheyenne Belle threw up all over me and my stuff.
If youâve never been puked on, itâs pretty disgusting. But for me, it wasnât about the vomit. The other time Chey threw up on me was also at the exact moment I tried to talk about my feelings for her. I know Iâm repulsive, but this was the girl whoâd kissed me. I canât be that repulsive, can I? The answer to that question, in case youâre wondering, is a resounding yes.
Chey helped me clean up the mess, apologizing the whole time. We rolled down the windows and, even though it was cold out, blasted the AC to get the smell out as I drove the last couple of blocks to her house. She didnât say anything on the ride over or when she got out of the car. She just gave me a sad, backward glance. Like the Lorax.
CHEYENNE BELLE
I was pretty sure it wasnât morning sickness. That had more or less ended a couple of weeks before, and, besides, this felt different. It was more like puking from a fever, you know? I figured maybe I was getting the flu.
I felt really bad about the mess in Harryâs car and did my best to help him clean it up. Then he dropped me off at home.
My mother was bitching at me about something or other the second I walked through the door, but I just ignored her and went straight to my room and fell asleep.
I had this really vivid dream that I was being chased by a pair of sneakers. There wasnât anyone in them, just a pair of sneakers. I donât know why I was so terrified of them, but I was. That had to be the most restless sleep Iâve ever had.
HARBINGER JONES
I watched Chey get safely inside, and then I just started driving. I wasnât at all conscious of my surroundings.
It was a lot like this one night in Athens when everything felt like it was spinning out of control and I just walked aimlessly. I wound up at a phone booth downtown and called Dr. Kenny. That night, everything in the world was hyperreal. On this day, it all sort of disappeared.
By the time Iâd zoned back in, Iâd made it all the way to the Kensico Dam, like fifteen miles away. It was kind of scary that Iâd driven that far without any real understanding of how Iâd gone from point A to point B. I parked the car, got out, wandered into the damâs main plaza, and sat down on a low stone wall.
It was early November, it was gray, and it was getting cold. I wasnât dressed for the weather, but I was feeling numb and didnât really notice. I started listing all the things I couldnât control:
Thing I Couldnât Control #1:
I was never going to stop wanting Chey,
needing Chey, and loving Chey.
(Three out of three ainât bad,
either, Meat Loaf.)
Thing I Couldnât Control #2:
Cheyenne was never
going to love me back.
Thing I Couldnât Control #3:
Chey and Johnny were going
to be together forever.
I could feel the world disappearing even more, so I started on one of my lists to help me calm down. It was the periodic table, rearranged to put the elements in alphabetical order.
Actinium
Aluminum
Americium
It was starting to work; my heart was retreating from the redline. But something inside me made me stop. That kind of freaked me out, because once I got going on a list, I never stopped. Ever. But this time I just couldnât go any further.
Strike that. Not that I couldnât go any further; I didnât want to.
I was tired of the lists. Tired of preventing myself from
Similar Books
