Free Dating Down by Stefanie Lyons Page A

liar.
    Me: sm People can change.
    Gavin: sm If you choose not to see it, at least admit
    that’s your choice.
    Me: sm He needs me.
    Gavin: sm I love you, Sam, but—
    Me: sm Why do you always see the cup as half empty?
    Gavin: sm Because right now, that’s what the cup is.
    Me: sm Just because George left for the summer doesn’t
    mean he left you.
    Gavin: sm Honey, lonely is lonely.
    And you can lie to yourself all you want.
    My Gavin
    my gadfly.

Where It Begins
    Party Betty strikes again.
    Big Blowout at Betty’s House!
    I decide we should go, thinking about
    The Cigarette Effect.
    X perks up, looks at me differently
    like I’m surprising
    interesting.
    I’m feeling good until we’re at the party and he
    runs into friends
    walks away
    avoids looking at me.
    Being good, being the
    High Priestess
    mother hen
    reputable one
    doesn’t seem to be working.
    So when someone passes around
    sm a bong sm then some pills sm then who-knows-what
    I start my reputation anew, livin’—
    The less-than-stressful life.
    The paint-my-own-fate life.
    The floating-airy-on-top-of-the-world-feeling life.
    The back-next-to-my-guy life.
    I’m surrounded by friends
    so much in love and finally …
    â€¦ livin’ my life.

How It Continues
    The following morning’s
    loud
    light
    less than fun,
    feels like a dog
    licked the insides
    of my brain.
    I pad down the hall
    in search of
    aspirin
    water
    ice packs
    anything to stop
    sm the pounding
    sm the pressure
    sm the pestering pang in my gut,
    sm People who do drugs are lame.
    sm If you choose not to see it, admit that’s your choice.
    Instead of comfort, I find
    Jane jabbering
    Melanie blubbering
    something about breakfast.
    Melanie: sm Brewberry pancakes.
    Jane: sm Daddy had to eat with his campaign people.
    Melanie: sm Brewberry pancakes!
    Jane: sm How about pancakes with Daddy for dinner?
    The pounding in my head
    burning in my eyes
    makes me continue down the hall,
    pushing past Melanie’s
    Brewberry pancakes for breakfast! chant .
    The thought of food
    makes me queasy.
    The thought of Dad
    sm off promising pancakes
    on the campaign trail
    makes me sicker.
    My head finds relief moments after
    I take some Tylenol.
    My heart finds relief seconds after
    his call.
    X: sm I feel so close to you right now, Sam Henderson.
    I smile deep in my heart as I listen to his voice—
    warm
    soothing
    calm.
    I frown as I find a note on my dresser from Miguel—
    Your father asked that I remind you to
    iron your dress before the next rally.
    I ball the note in my fist
    and lob it into the trash
    like flipping a hotcake over a skillet.
    Me: sm Wanna grab breakfast?
    I ask,
    as Melanie’s chants grow louder.
    He agrees to meet me
    in twenty minutes.
    Leo’s Lunchroom.
    I throw on my Chucks
    and jog down the stairs
    hungry for his touch,
    starved for his smile.
    Closing the front door masks
    the sounds of my little sister
    and her
    flapjack disappointment.
    Brewberry pancakes! Brewberry pancakes!
    Brewberry pancakes! Brewberry pancakes!

Where It Goes from Here
    From here
    my dear
    I’m up
    up!
    on top of the world
    day after day
    night after night
    to lean on.
    It’s good
    crystal clear
    up here
    painting the feelings of my soul
    dancing like I’ve got no control.
    What’s the fun in feeling safe?
    Where’s the safe in feeling fun?
    Is this what I’ve been denying myself?
    I swallow
    and suck
    sip
    and snort
    and then
    I lean on
    X,
    my rock.
    I’m powerful
    and beautiful and
    bohemian
    full of vigor and vim
    right in line
    leaning in time
    with X.
    Super Samantha Significant
    leaning on
    the counter
    spinning, twirling
    becoming alive
    livin’ my life.
    Blink blink
    I drink
    sniff
    think
    up!

Flying High
    You ready? X texts.
    Quietly, I slip out of the house
    3 a.m.
    learning myself
    liking myself
    leaving for another adventure,
    I grab a sweater.
    August in Chicago’s the hottest
    time of the year,