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Almost Perfect Page 8
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For a moment, I thought Sage was going to punch me. Then she calmed down. “Just get out, Logan. My parents will kill me if they find you here.”
I stood to face Sage, but still had to look up. “Find me here doing what? Sitting on the couch talking? Drinking hot chocolate? Helping you with your car trouble? Why is that such a big damn deal, Sage?”
“You wouldn’t understand!” She didn’t say it like a spoiled thirteen-year-old. There was a catch in her voice, something that told me her personal problems were greater than I’d imagined.
“Try me!” I was almost begging.
Sage didn’t answer. She just extended her finger toward the door. I had been dismissed. She needed me when she was in trouble, but God forbid she talk to me. God forbid she let me help her.
I stomped toward the garage door to collect my cables and battery. I fought back an urge to turn the truck’s lights back on and drain the battery again.
“Logan?” I heard Sage call softly. I turned.
She was sitting on the couch, her head hung over her lap. Her body was shaking lightly. I realized she was crying.
“Sage?” I returned to the living room and sat down next to her. She didn’t stop me.
Little wet drops appeared on the legs of her jeans. A sick, sick feeling grew in my gut. My friend was miserable, but she wouldn’t tell me why. Why did girls have such a hard time telling me the truth? First Brenda, not wanting to admit she’d stopped loving me. Now Sage, with whatever secret was torturing her.
“Hey, Sage, c’mon.” Gently, I touched her cheek.
She lifted her face toward me. Tears streamed down her nose, and her eyes were red.
“Logan, I’m scared.”
“Why are you scared, Sage?”
She didn’t answer, just continued to look at me. At a loss, I tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Soon, I was holding her face in my hands.
She didn’t move away when I leaned closer. She didn’t stop me when I put my face level with hers. She didn’t resist when our lips met.
For ten wonderful seconds, we kissed. The world vanished. Sage’s father could barge in at any second, and it wouldn’t matter. All I knew was that the attraction wasn’t one-sided. Sage was kissing back. Hard. I had to brace up my back to stay completely vertical. I felt her mouth open, then immediately clamp shut. Then again. Then it stayed open.
I was aware that Sage was holding my left hand with her right, our fingers interlaced. And still we kissed. When Sage decided to let down her barriers, she didn’t hold back! Although, a nagging voice in the back of my mind reminded me that she still hadn’t told me what was bothering her, still hadn’t let me into her brain.
And suddenly, Sage pulled away. When I opened my eyes, I found her staring at me with a look of abject fright on her face.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she gasped.
“Why not?” I asked with a sinking feeling. It doesn’t bode well when a girl regrets kissing you during the kiss.
“Logan, we can’t do that again. Ever. You need to leave now.” The fear in her voice was intense. There was something I wasn’t getting. Something she hadn’t told me.
“Is this about your parents, Sage? Because they’ll never find out.”
Sage just shook her head, her eyes growing wider.
“Then … do you not like me? Just tell me, if that’s it.”
She shook her head again. “I’ve liked you since that first day in biology, Logan.”
I was delighted and terrified. What was this mysterious thing she was dancing around?
“Then talk to me, Sage. I deserve to know.”
She shook her head, then stopped. Almost imperceptibly, she nodded.
“Logan,” she croaked, real fear in her voice. “The reason I can’t date … the reason we can’t kiss … the reason why I was homeschooled …”
I suddenly didn’t want to know. Somehow, I realized that I was going to regret asking her to reveal this much. But I couldn’t stop.
“Yes, Sage?”
“I …” She swallowed, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “I’m a boy.”
chapter eleven
I WASN’T SURE how long I’d been running, or how far. Seven or eight miles, probably. I didn’t remember going to the track. I just knew I was there, running at a dead sprint in my jeans and sneakers.
Sage is a guy. A boy. A MAN!
I had never been so disgusted. How could I not have known?
Her large hands. Her height. Christ, her husky voice.
And I’d fallen for it. Jesus, I’d fallen for it completely. I’d kissed a boy. French-kissed a boy! That made me a fag, didn’t it?
For a month, I’d fantasized about Sage. Her cute face, her muscular, athletic body. Now my mental image of her naked body filled me with horror. Big, hairy balls. An eight-inch cock. Flat, hairy chest and hairy back. And I had kissed her.
No, not her. Him.
In spite of the cold, sweat had soaked through my shirt. I was dimly aware of a splitting pain in my side and blisters forming on my feet. Still I ran.
When Sage had told me, I froze. Just for a second. And then I pulled back my fist to punch her. I was going to break her … his nose.
Sage didn’t move. Didn’t duck. It was like she knew the punch was coming. Expected it.
I don’t know why I didn’t hit her. I don’t know why I didn’t put that sicko in the hospital. Sage certainly had it coming.
No wonder she had been homeschooled. No wonder she wasn’t allowed to date but her sister was.
My breath was coming in painful gasps. A pair of middle-aged joggers tried to flag me down every time I passed them. I was oblivious. I ran faster.
And here I had thought maybe Sage didn’t like me. She liked me, all right! Just as I’m getting over Brenda, just when I think about dating again, the first girl who likes me is a guy! I never thought anything could hurt me as badly as what Brenda had done. But Sage made Brenda look like an amateur.
Then a thought blindsided me. An idea worse than Sage’s confession. Worse than the knowledge I’d made out with a boy.
I’d believed Sage was a girl. But does everyone else?
Now that I knew, Sage’s true sex was fairly obvious. Did anyone else guess? What if Jack or Tim figured it out? What if they thought I already knew?
The pain in my side turned to agony, and I went sprawling. On my hands and knees, I vomited all over the rubberized surface of the track.
“Logan?”
When you live in a trailer, you can’t sneak in. Mom was sitting on the couch in her waitress uniform watching a soap opera. I pretended I didn’t hear.
“Logan, are you okay?”
I kept walking. Just a few more steps to the bathroom.
“Logan! Answer me!”
She was my mother, and there was no ignoring her.
“I’m fine, Mom. I just went running and pushed myself too hard.”
Mom stood and looked at me with a mixture of concern and suspicion.
“Mrs. McGarvy called. She said you were acting funny at the track, and then you threw up. She said you were crying.”
Was I?
“Mom, I just ran a little too fast and a little too far. I hit the wall.”
Mom clearly didn’t believe me. I knew my limits, and I never went running in street clothes. She didn’t push the issue, though.
“A young lady stopped by when you were gone.”
My mom must have heard my horrified gasp. No. Not Sage. What had she said to my mother?
Mom continued. “She said her name was Tammi.”
I commenced breathing. “I gave her … sister a jump this morning.”
“Well, she looked upset. She said you really need to call her sister. Said it’s urgent.”
I grunted and headed for the bathroom.
“Logan, what happened?”
She was talking to the door.
The scalding water of the shower brought me somewhat back
to reality. I had to stop acting like this. People would wonder what was going on. Start asking questions …
I scrubbed myself raw. Too bad I didn’t have some lye or some ammonia to burn Sage’s touch away.
She’d ruined my life. For the rest of the school year … hell, for the rest of my goddamned life, I’d be worried someone would find her out. And then everyone would know that I liked a guy. It didn’t matter that we’d never really dated. Just the flirting in biology would be enough to paint me pink for the next twenty years.
There was only one option. Sage—no, the entire world—would have to know she was dead to me. That I felt nothing but hatred for her … him … her. Even after her little revelation, I still could not think of Sage with masculine pronouns.
I’d call Sage, all right. Tell her I never wanted to see her again. Not even at school.
Tell her if she ever told the world what she really was, or if anyone ever found out, then I’d hurt her. I would.
* * *
That evening I sat alone in the abandoned Arborville Road Cemetery. I had called Sage and told her to meet me there. It was the most isolated place I could think of.
She showed up just as the sun was going down. For once, she wasn’t dressed outrageously. Just plain jeans and a gray sweater. I guess she realized that it was the wrong time for fancy dresses and gaudy jewelry. I tried to picture her as a boy, picture her as a man. Couldn’t do it. Even with the height, the voice, the shoulders … she was still Sage.
A beautiful, zany, sensitive girl who liked me. Truly liked me. Who’d be going off to college with me. The girl who was going to help me move on with my life. The girl who just happened to not mention that she had a dick growing between her legs. Did she think that wouldn’t matter to me? Did Sage honestly expect me not to care?
“Logan …” Her husky voice was cracked and hoarse.
In response, I threw something at her feet. It was the MU blanket she’d given me for Christmas.
Sage sat on a log and stared at it for a long time before picking it up and folding it carefully. Then she spoke without looking at me.
“Logan, I’m not going to apologize, because I know it wouldn’t matter. And I’m not going to try to explain, because I know you don’t care. But I have to ask you something.”
I didn’t respond. She went on.
“Are you going to tell anyone my secret?”
The idea that I’d actually tell anyone that the girl I liked had a penis struck me as perverse. I laughed.
“Be serious, Logan! You may think I’m sick. Fine. But you used to treat me like a friend. So I’m asking you … please don’t tell. I’ll drop out of bio so you won’t have to see me there. But if anyone here knew that I’m not a full woman … I’d have to quit school. My family would have to leave town. Think of Tammi. Please, please, keep this between us.”
I kicked a tombstone. “Sage, do you think I want my friends to know I kissed an ass pirate like you? Just stay the hell away from me. I don’t ever want to see you again, faggot.”
Sage stood. For a moment, she looked at me. The afternoon sun caught the moisture in her eyes. Then she gained control. She tossed the blanket onto the snowy ground and quickly left the cemetery. I stood there alone as it started to get dark.
Grabbing a handful of snow, I molded it into a ball and hurled it at a tree. It hit with a satisfying splat, leaving a white star on the trunk. I pictured Sage’s head splattering against the tree, her brains spewing everywhere.
The thought gave me no pleasure. I’d spent nearly two months thinking warm and fuzzy thoughts about Sage. If I was going to hate her, it would take some work.
I threw another snowball, nailing the tree inches from my first hit. Sage had said she liked me. If that was true (and I was very close to not believing anything any girl ever told me), then she should have left me alone. But hugging me and fixing me food and making me a present—she had to realize what that was doing to me.
Maybe she assumed I’d never find out. Or that I’d somehow understand. But I didn’t understand. I’d never be able to erase the memory of kissing a guy.
I looked down at the crumpled, wet blanket in the snow. I started to pick it up, then stopped. I ground the black-and-yellow fabric into the mud with my foot.
I wish I’d never met you, Sage.
chapter twelve
I HADN’T BEEN so scared to go to school since my first day of junior high. I thought about pretending to be sick, but I needed to be there. What if Sage decided she wanted to cause trouble? I had almost hit her, after all. What if she wanted revenge? She could tell any sort of lie about me, knowing I’d never be able to admit the truth.
Sleep hadn’t come that night. I kept having nightmare visions: Sage’s shirt accidentally being pulled off (hey, it could happen). Someone in the office realizing her birth certificate said male. A thousand scenarios that ended with Sage’s secret exposed and me branded as a homosexual. If word of her true gender got out, it wouldn’t matter that I didn’t know. No one would believe it. They’d think I knew Sage was a guy and didn’t mind. Or liked it! Shame never dies in a small town. Everyone would think I was gay. Jack, Tim, Brenda, even my mom.
I was relieved to see Sage wasn’t in biology that morning. Maybe she’d changed classes like she’d said. Tim had already eaten himself into a food coma, so I was free to internally panic as Mr. Elmer discussed the boring botany unit we were starting.
I didn’t see Sage at all that day; she must have skipped school. Tammi wasn’t around, either. She was probably home consoling her “sister.” Maybe this incident could work to my advantage. Sage would come to her senses and realize how stupid she’d been for trying to attend school as a girl. She could go back to being homeschooled, and I’d never have to see her again.
My entire future rested on what happened in the next few months. If Sage didn’t get found out until we were both out of high school, then I was safe. Provided I never talked to her again, so no one would remember how we used to hang out. I promised myself I would just play it cool. Be smooth. Not let on that I was more scared than I’d ever been in my entire life.
I didn’t blow it until the end of the school day.
Jack and I sat in the commons after the final bell. Mr. Bloch, the principal, was casting a wary eye on us from his office, so Jack wasn’t attacking the soda machine. I’m not sure if Mr. Bloch knew of Jack’s vandalism, but at six feet two inches, and three-hundred-plus pounds, the principal was not a man you deliberately antagonized. Rumor had it that the only meth dealer ever to find his way onto the Boyer campus left in an ambulance.
Jack was making an elaborate paper airplane out of the school newsletter.
“Hey, Jack?”
“Yeah?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask this, but I had to know.
“Did you, um, ever notice anything kind of … strange about Sage?” If Jack had even the slightest inkling that Sage was a boy, I was completely fucked.
Jack threw the airplane. It did an impressive loop-the-loop and bounced off the glass-fronted office. Mr. Bloch glowered but apparently had other things to do than throttle Jack.
“Strange? Hell, yes!”
I tasted bile. “What do you mean?”
“She likes you, Logan. That’s pretty weird.”
My stomach unknotted. “Yeah.”
Jack retrieved his aircraft. “So what’s up with you guys?”
“Nothing,” I said bluntly.
“You sure?” asked Jack, missing the warning in my voice. “I mean, I know she wouldn’t let you feel her up in public, but I thought you might be friends with privileges or something.”
“Shut up, Jack!”
He prepared for another launch. “Don’t try to tell me you’re not hot for her. Nothing wrong with that. She’s got that jungle woman thing going on. Maybe she’ll drag you by your hair—”
I grabbed Jack roughly by the arm, causing him to drop his airplane. “I said shut up!”
>
My friend looked stunned for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed and, for one of the few times since I’d met him, I saw a look of true anger on his face.
“Get your hands off me.”
I realized I was crushing his toothpick arm in my hand. I let go. Across the commons, Mr. Bloch was trying to decide if he needed to intervene.
Jack stared me down. “Logan, I don’t know what the hell is going on with you. But I am not your personal punching bag. Understand?”
I looked at my shoes. Two months ago, when Jack had told me Brenda was cheating on me and I’d hit him, he had let it pass. I had never apologized, and he had never brought it up. He knew I was hurting. But you could only push your friends so far.
“Jack, I …”
He was already gone.
The weight bench had been a gift for my fifteenth birthday. Mom had gotten it at Goodwill or a garage sale or something. I’d set it up in our old shed, and I got quite a bit of use out of it.
I’d been staring up at the metal bar for almost two hours, since I got home from school. I hadn’t even stopped at the trailer. Mom had left for work a few minutes before, probably wondering where I was.
I lay there, counting the mud dauber nests on the ceiling, reflecting that my life was in the toilet. Jack and Tim thought Sage and I were dating. Before New Year’s, I would have gladly fueled that rumor. Now what? If I acted like I was mad at Sage, people would think we were having a lovers’ quarrel. And if I acted like nothing was wrong, they’d still think we were a couple.
And all this is Brenda’s fault! If she had just broken up with me before she cheated, maybe I would have gotten over her more quickly. And asked Tanya out when she still liked me. Or maybe Brenda and I could have worked things out if she’d tried to talk to me. And we’d still be together.
But no. She had cheated on me at exactly the right time for me to fall for Sage. To fall for a boy. I’d spent over a month trying to get another guy to go out with me.
I could make all the excuses in the world. I could tell myself Sage had lied to me, that anyone would have been fooled, and it didn’t count.