“No, Mags.” He was quiet for a minute, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded shaky. “This means a lot.”
Was Jesse crying? I glanced up to see him thumbing at his eyes and laughing a little, like he was embarrassed.
“Um, I’m not sure I was supposed to make you cry,” I said. I had never seen a guy cry before. It was weird, like seeing your dad cry for the first time, but also so sweet.
“You didn’t make me cry,” he said, clearing his throat. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just been a long time since something made me happy. And now you make me happy every time I see you. I missed it.”
Now I was welling up, too. “No, I know what you mean,” I told him. “I know what it’s like to just sit and wait for something to happen and think that it might not.”
“It’s like, I have all this luck and wealth and privilege, but who gives a shit? People expect me to be some spoiled brat, so then I act like some spoiled brat—I mean, I stole that book, what a dumbass—but it’s not me at all. And then when I try to act like an upright citizen, volunteer and all that, they accuse me of using my dad’s connections to get ahead. But if I don’t do anything, then my dad gets pissed that I’m not doing anything. And then my mom decides that she’s the one who needs a break from her life….” He sighed and looked up through the trees. “It’s like I can’t get out.”
I had to take a deep breath because I had never heard another person say how I felt. “It’s, like, how can you become an adult when everyone wants you to stay a child?”
“Exactly!” Jesse wriggled into his coat some more and I tightened my scarf around my neck. November seemed to be getting colder by the minute, but neither of us wanted to leave. “Oh, shit, are you crying now?”
“No!” I said, even as I was blinking back tears. “I just know what you mean about responsibility and living up to expectations. My parents are the same way. If I try to do things my way, then they get pissed that I’m not doing them their way. But maybe their way isn’t my way, you know? Maybe I’m supposed to make my own path and not always follow theirs.”
“Easier said than done,” Jesse said.
“Tell me about it. So what do we do?”
“I dunno. Stand up for ourselves? Make ourselves happy? Screw everything else?”
“Damn the man!” I said as we started laughing. “We’re rebels! Get out of our way!”
“Well, we already broke into a park. A life of crime seems to be our only option.”
“I’m sorry, who broke into the park? There’s no ‘we’ in that sentence, my friend.”
“Yes, but I’m an accomplice.”
“The Boris to my Natasha.”
“Who?”
Jesse obviously hadn’t watched hours of old cartoons at Angelo’s house when he was a kid. “They’re these cartoon characters from Rocky & Bullwinkle and … you know what? Never mind.”
I hated to admit it, but I just realized he’d given me an opening. Jesse was talking about his dad. This was my chance.
“Your dad sounds kind of difficult,” I ventured.
Jesse laughed through his nose. “That’s one word for it. He just doesn’t talk. Like, ever. I don’t even know what we would talk about if we did talk.”
I traced a pattern on the edge of Jesse’s scarf as I curled up next to him. “Is he a workaholic?”
“That depends. Does someone who works all day and night count as a workaholic?” He sighed and tightened his arm around me. “He’s always obsessing about stories. Stories, all the time. He’s been working on this one story about these spies….”
I could literally feel the acid start to pool and burn in my stomach.
“… and he was going to run it and clear everything, but I don’t know. Something went haywire and now he’s not sure.”
The adrenaline was rushing through my body. I was glad it was so dark that Jesse couldn’t see my flushed cheeks.
“He’s been so pissed off about it. It’s like work rules his life. It doesn’t matter what I do, only what I don’t do. Hey, are you shaking?”
I was.
“Whoa, okay, that was fun, but if you freeze to death, your parents are going to kill me.”
“No, they won’t,” I said, even though they totally would. “Why did the thing with your dad’s story fall through?” It was messy, I knew. I was pushing for answers instead of letting them come to me. If this were safecracking, a cobalt wall would have fallen down by now, blocking me out.
But as I’ve learned, people aren’t safes.
“I have no idea,” Jesse said as he stood up. “He barely talks, remember? Hey, do me a favor?”
“Of course,” I whispered. At that moment, I would have done almost anything for Jesse. Anything except ruin my job.
“Bring me back here again? Maybe in the daytime?” His smile was hopeful and kind, two things I never thought he’d be, and it felt like my heart was beating too hard, aching with every kind word.
“I promise,” I said.
“You still crying?”
“No, are you kidding? I’m too busy freezing to death.”
We gathered up our food remnants, my heart still pounding in my ears, my hands still shaking a little. What did Jesse mean, his dad wasn’t sure about the story? Was this whole thing for nothing? Was he not going to run it? If he didn’t, would we still have to leave? Would I have to move away from Jesse and Roux?