Page 31 of Exchanged

We reach the sidewalk and head toward my house, the sounds of the party fading into the night. Garrett’s shoes sandpaper against the pavement. I hear his breath. We say nothing for a while.

I stop on the corner of Steel and Lincoln Streets and turn to him. “You didn’t have to do that. Back at the party, I mean. Trying to make me fit in and everything.”

He looks at me. A breeze picks up, and the wind chimes that Mrs. Phelps hangs from the maple trees in her front yard swell into a chorus of clear, melodic tones. On the air, I catch the faintest scent of him, that Garrett smell. Tonight it reminds me less of a forest and more of the pages of a sun-warmed book.

“Why did you do it?” I press.

He shifts, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. “Because,” he eventually says, “there’s nothing shittier than making someone feel like they don’t belong somewhere.”

I swallow. He hides it well, but there is hurt in that sentence, a soft accusation. We continue walking. A block later, I stop again, this time outside Mr. Bertolli’s house with its SACRED HEART OF JESUS yard sign.

“I’m sorry,” I say before I can stop myself. Then the beer forces me to continue. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick since you got here. I guess you weren’t the person I was expecting … and obviously that’s not your fault, but I took a lot of my own stupid baggage out on you and … sorry.”

It’s a clumsy apology. But I suppose I’m a clumsy person.

“Thanks.” He swallows. “Me too. Sorry, I mean. I haven’t exactly been the easiest to get along with.”

“You are, though,” the beer says. “And I guess that’s why I’ve been such a douche. You … I don’t know … just seem so comfortable around all these people I’ve known my whole life. Everyone loves you. And it comes so easy to you, like you don’t even have to try to be everyone’s favorite person.”

Wow, the beer is really in touch with my feelings.

His face is serious. “It’s not easy, actually. And it’s not necessarily a good thing, either. There’s a lot you have to give up to make everyone like you.”

I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Nonetheless, a subtle change vibrates in the air between us, like when the clouds shift on a gray day and the sky gets a little less dreary because the sun is up there somewhere. We continue walking.

After another minute, he asks, “Who were you expecting? Obviously someone from a different country.”

“His name was Davit. From Tbilisi. Violin player. Board gamer.”

“Sounds like your type.”

I glance at him, looking for a knowing smirk, but he’s not making fun of me. “I doubt Davit would let me kick his ass at Madden.”

He laughs. “For the record, if we ever do play, you don’t stand a chance.”

“Safe bet, considering I had to take a gamble back there and assume Madden is about football.”

“Why were you at that party?” he asks. “No offense, but it doesn’t seem like your vibe.”

I’m hit with a fresh wave of embarrassment at whatever undeveloped part of my brain thought I might go to that party and somehow get Garrett to come out to me. I settle for telling half the truth. “Kelly invited me … and I guess I wanted to prove that I’m not lame, that I go to parties and stuff. For the record, I was supposed to be at a different, less cool party tonight.”

He looks at me sideways. “Don’t listen to what Dana said back there. About your personality.”

I don’t say anything. Her comment had cut me more deeply than I want to admit.

“Some people’s only idea of fun,” Garrett says, “is getting drunk on the weekends and spending the rest of their time staring at their phone. They don’t understand people who do cool shit with their lives.”

“Music composition isn’t cool.”

The corner of his lip twitches. “Have you heard how many Oscars John Williams won?”

I want to ask him why he spends his time with people like Evan and Dana, but this thing between us feels so fragile that my fear of saying the wrong thing outweighs my curiosity.

“Evan’s a dick,” Garrett says, as if he’d been considering the same question. “And Tyler acts too cool, but he’s a really good guy once you get to know him.”

I think about that day at Lake Superior. What it must have been like for Garrett to have no friends in this new place, to latch on to the first group of people that was nice to him.

“And you get used to it, you know? There’s a certain way you’re supposed to act when you’re around the guys. Sometimes it means saying douchey things.”