Free Dating Down by Stefanie Lyons

relationship takes a turn.
    I’ve found my place
    my role
    protector, mother hen—the new definition of me.
    If Mom cannot be this to me
    I can be this to X.
    It’s what Lady Elba meant for me,
    the High Priestess.
    Still, I await my something big.
    X and I find our new stride,
    it feels right
    and strange.
    Like a bird unable to fly
    or balloons caught in a tree
    time turns.
    Jane gets headaches daily
    Melanie will only talk to her invisible friend,
    Valerie
    Miguel nags me
    Dad ignores me
    Ted begins texting me
    April is now a blonde
    Gavin,
    my Gavin
    my guide
    stops talking to me.
    Says I’m a fool if I think X can change.
    Doesn’t have time for foolish people.
    Tips his hat, leaves me
    with his half of our banana split
    in Thirty-One bittersweet Flavors.
    But the Fool is my friend, right, Lady Elba?

How Smoke Burns
    Lying around in X’s bed,
    nestled up in the crook of his arm
    watching him smoke
    in and out
    thinking about how we’re
    in and out
    just like that smoke.
    falling in love sm sm in
    lying sm sm sm sm out
    making up sm sm in
    fighting sm sm out
    Cigarettes.
    The only habit he’s kept.
    I’m about to turn into
    Sam, High Priestess, mother hen,
    lecture about what he actually rolls in them
    when he looks at me
    a look I recall
    a look I remember
    a look before he called me
    a baby
    I shift my weight sm lift up my arm sm grab his cigarette
    take a
    sm long
    slow
    draw
    choke from the sheer power
    of his home-rolled cigarette.
    X laughs,
    reminds me that Dad would die if he caught me smoking
    because I am not a rebel,
    I’m reputable.
    We Hendersons have a reputation to uphold …
    His words sm inhaled in, blown out sm make so much sense.
    Where’s the Sam that wanted to
    sm try things sm experience life sm all of it?

All of It
    With the good comes the bad.
    But is the bad really so bad?
    How bad is bad?
    Like lonely break-up bad? Or smiling-at-every-rally bad?
    Worse than being called a baby?
    Played like a fool?
    How bad is bad?
    Inferior to a boring step-mom?
    Living without my mom?
    Loving a boy who loves drugs?
    How bad is bad?
    Can it eliminate friendships? Take father from daughter?
    Cause cancer?
    Is bad poorer than a political promise?
    More repulsive than lying?
    How bad is bad?
    And if I like it,
    does that make it good?
    How bad
    is
    bad?

Consulting April, Pt. II
    PickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickupPickup
    April’s phone goes into voicemail.
    I’m out with my man. Leave it at the beep .
    Since when is Ralph a man?
    A
    clueless boy—yes
    lazy guy—sure
    but man?
    I try again.
    This time she picks up.
    I plop on my bed, get comfy.
    April: sm Wanna do something later?
    Me: sm I can’t.
    I mumble something about X.
    April: sm Because you’re a couple again?
    I mumble a perhaps .
    Me: sm Thought you of all people would understand.
    April: sm I want to, but he’s—
    Me: sm Trying to change.
    April: sm Trying?
    Me: sm Maybe it’s not so bad.
    April: sm What did I tell you about boys and drugs?
    I quote our cafeteria conversation.
    Me: sm People who do drugs are lame.
    April: sm Good. So we agree.
    Me: sm But not all drugs are bad.
    Me: sm Some save lives, you know.
    Me: sm Cure cancer even.
    April: sm Right.
    Her voice trails
    sm sounds so far away
    like a fuzzy, unfamiliar connection.
    She sighs.
    April: sm Look, are you okay?
    I touch a dried-up rose petal beside my bed.
    One from X.
    From the sidewalk. It’s delicate.
    And beautiful.
    Me: sm Yeah, I’m good.

Consulting Gavin, Pt. II
    Gavin: sm You leave him yet?
    Me: sm You left me with your ice cream sundae.
    Gavin: sm And you left … ?
    Me: sm It’s complicated.
    Gavin: sm It’s simple.
    Me: sm You should try being more forgiving.
    I’m thinking of George.
    Gavin: sm You should try being honest.
    Me: sm What’s that supposed to mean?
    Gavin: sm He does drugs.
    Which means he is a druggie.
    He tells lies.
    Which means he is a