Chapter Twenty-Four

Back at the apartment, I decided to order out for dinner; after our visit to Dr. Lee, I wasn't feeling up to cooking anything. The meeting hadn't been terrible or upsetting for Charles, but he never really seemed to be there with us; I got the feeling he thought it was just a waste of time. And if he wasn't going to give it a serious shot, I didn't know any other avenues to take in helping him.

I confirmed with Charles that Chinese food would make an acceptable meal but couldn't get him to commit to any dish in particular. He insisted that whatever I got would be fine, but just to be sure, I ordered sesame chicken, an old favorite of his from high school; I hoped he still liked it.

We ate in front of the television, watching some stand-up comedian with a guitar; I didn't find him particularly funny. Charles wasn't offering up any clues as to his own feelings, and I was getting anxious to break the silence.

"So," I said, "I've been wondering. With you being so popular, how many girls from our high school did you end up kissing?"

Charles seemed a little thrown by the abruptness of the question. Casting me a confused look, "I don't know. A few. Why?"

"Know who the first girl I kissed was? I don't think I told you."

"Who?"

"Tracy Bosworth." I was taking a bullet on this one in the hopes it would make Charles smile. Tracy - well, she wasn't my finest hour. She was actually a pretty sad case, as she had the looks and personality to allow her mobility into the upper classes of high school society. But the one thing that held her back, her own, personal glass ceiling, was the fact that she devoutly and unquestioningly believed unicorns were real; she worked this bit of trivia into maybe a third of her conversations, regardless of their original topic.

Having spent enough time with Tracy to eventually end up kissing her, I managed to learn the whole story. For her sixth birthday, her parents had put together a fairy tale themed party, complete with princess costumes, plastic swords for the boys, and what Tracy swore was a real, live unicorn. And thus, my first kiss was with a girl whose entire worldview had been irrevocably influenced by a pony wearing a cheap, plastic horn. I looked at Charles, hoping his reaction wouldn't be too harsh.

He just stared, his fork frozen in anticipation of its next scoop. "The unicorn girl?"

I looked back at the television, feigning extra embarrassment for his benefit, though I didn't have to pretend much. Charles' smile quickly broke through "Wow."

"Yeah, well, it could have been worse," I defended. "She was pretty cute."

He didn't let go. "Like, did she think they could fly and everything?"

"Hey, come on," I countered. "She wasn't that bad. And there's a perfectly acceptable reason she thought they were real."

"Yeah? What?"

"She really liked horses, and she was fucking insane."

Charles took a moment to gauge this response then burst out in laughter that reminded me of what it was like for us when we'd first met, the simple freedom of being with a true friend. I thought of all the days we'd spent together as kids, talking, laughing, not caring or worrying about anything at all, and with the memories, everything about the situation we were now in disappeared. For a moment, I think Charles found himself back there as well.