Free Boyfriend by Faye McCray Page B

I had just started.
    ***
    On Sunday afternoon, Kerry called on her way back to school asking if I could pick her up from the bus terminal so we could talk.  I had no idea what to expect.  I spent most of the weekend drunk and as I made the painfully sober drive to the bus terminal, all I could think of was how much I had fucked up.  I could still see her face as she watched Natalie with an odd mix of fear and curiosity.  For a moment after Natalie left, I was sure Kerry had looked at me the same way.
    As if the jagged pill of my reality wasn’t enough, I also worried that the dance I had shared with Jayna had somehow gotten back to Kerry.  It was clear from the way Jayna moved, she was sending me an invitation.  It was just as clear how badly I had wanted to accept.   
    As Kerry approached me standing outside of Phil’s car, I lowered by head and shoved my hands in my pockets. 
    All good things end. 
    I needed to man up and be prepared to move on. 
    Kerry clutched her red duffel bag in her hand as she approached and ran her fingers through her hair.   “Hi,” she said. 
    “Hey.”
    “Nate…” she started.
    “Kerry, I’m sorry.” I took a step closer to her.  “I’m so fucking sorry.”  I took my hands out of my pocket.  “I shouldn’t have lied.  I shouldn’t have gotten so pissed off…”
    She placed her duffle bag on the ground beside us, reached out, and touched my face.  “I know.”
    Encouraged, I pulled her to me. “I fucked up.”
    She nodded, wrapping her hands around my waist.  “You could’ve told me, Nate.  I love you.  Nothing in your past could change that.”
    I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her lips.   I didn’t want her to talk about my past.  Knowing it was enough.  Kerry was sweet and everything about my life in Queens was bitter.  She wanted to know more; her curiosity squeezed me tighter than her embrace and poured from every pause in her kiss.  She wanted to feel what it was like.  Take the journey to when I was ten years old and living in that dirty apartment.  She wanted to take naps with me on my old stained mattress and hold my hand while I ate jellybeans for breakfast.   She had questions that I never wanted to answer.  It was bad enough that she knew.  I didn’t want to go back. 
    “I love you,” she murmured in my chest.  I ran my hands up and down her arms.
    “I love you too.”
    She smiled up at me and pulled me back into a kiss.  Despite the cool air that blew around us, I could feel my palms grow sweaty.  
    It all scared me. 
    Her kiss.  Her touch.  Her acceptance. 
    “I won’t hurt you either, Nate,” she whispered as if hearing my thoughts.  I kissed her back wondering how that could possibly be true. 
    ***
    That evening, Kerry spent the night at my place.  Phil went out to a party, so we had the place to ourselves.  She spent most of the early evening flitting around cleaning up using cleaning products I didn’t even know we had.   When she finally sat down beside me on the couch, she smelled like bleach, and her hairline was damp with sweat.  I kissed her on the forehead and pulled her to me so I hugged her from behind.   
    “I can’t believe you did all this,” I said looking around the apartment. “Thank you, baby.”
    She pulled out of my embrace and laughed.  “You think all this was for you?”
    “It wasn’t?”
    “You and Phil are nasty.  I couldn’t sleep here with it looking the way it did.”
    I laughed. “Is that right?”
    She nodded, smiling.
    She leaned back into me and pulled my arms around her and running her fingers up and down my forearms.  “This must’ve taken forever.” She stared at the tattoo sleeves on each of my arms. 
    “It wasn’t all at once.”
    “Which one was your first?”
    I turned over my right arm and pointed to a small three-dimensional star right below the inside of my elbow.  I had gotten it at close to midnight on Lisa’s 18 th birthday.