Free Sometimes Never by Cheryl McIntyre Page A

. It’s not like I can really talk to them. Not like I talk to— you .”
                  “Why?” she asks.
                  “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
                  “But why me?” Her voice is low, nearly a whisper, and I have a hard time swallowing.
                  “I don’t know,” I say again. I don’t want to scare her away. I can’t tell her that I feel good when I’m with her. Or that she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Or how she makes me feel things I’m not used to feeling. So I say the only truth that I don’t think will terrify her. “You’re special.”
                  She makes a noise and I have no idea what it means. My palms are sweating. The girl even makes me nervous on the phone.
                  “What are you going to name me on your phone?” she asks. It doesn’t get by me that she changed the subject. I don’t know what that means either, but I go with it.
                  “No way. I’m not telling you until you tell me what you named me,” I protest.
                  “I’ll show you tomorrow.”
                  Shit . “I can’t come over tomorrow. Mom has to work a double. I won’t see you until Friday. If I can come over Friday, that is.”
                  “Yeah, you can come over Friday. And we’re having a party Saturday night if you want to come. It’s for Alec’s birthday. There’s going to be a ton of family and Alec’s friends, so it might not be much fun for you, but having you there will make the experience more enjoyable for me.” She clicks her tongue. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
                  I put my hand over my mouth because I want to laugh with joy, really freaking loudly. I can’t believe she just said that either, but for a much different reason. Hell, yeah! Hope is into me. “I’m glad you did.”
                  “Let’s pretend I didn’t.”
                  “Why?” I ask.
                  She sighs and it sends a chill down my spine. I wish I could see her expression. I start clicking through her pictures just to see her face.
                  “It’s embarrassing. I don’t usually say stuff like that,” she explains.
                  “You’re embarrassed? Well what if I told you something humiliating about me? Would that make you feel better?”
                  I can hear the smile in her voice when she talks. “I don’t know. I guess we can give it a try.”
                  I chuckle. “All right. Um...okay, I buy my mom’s tampons on a regular basis.”
                  She laughs, but says, “That’s not embarrassing. It’s sweet in a weird way.”
                  “Trust me, it’s embarrassing. I’m a guy and she’s my mom,” I explain.
                  “Hmm. That’s it? It doesn’t make me feel better.”
                  I suck on my bottom lip. “All right. When I was eleven, I went to my neighbor’s pool party and her brother pants’d me in front of everyone while I was on the diving board.”
                  She laughs, making me laugh at myself. “It’s not funny,” I announce. “The water was cold. It was very unflattering. I still have issues. If I even smell chlorine I tighten my belt.”
                  “What else?”
                  “You want more? No way.”
                  “Fine, but you’re going into my phone as Pantsless the Boy Wonder,” she says.
                  “That’s just wrong,” I mutter. “I’ll tell you one more if you tell me one of yours.”
                  She’s quiet for a moment, so I wait patiently for her response.
                  “Okay. One,”