Page 101 of Someone Like Me
My nerves and self-doubts vanish like soap bubbles. One minute they billow and bob and fill up my insides. The next they are just a memory.
Again, I have the keen sensation that with Drew, I am wanted for exactly who I am.
“Well, we should go then,” I suggest, both relieved and satisfied with how this day is turning out.
Outside near the bikes, Drew reaches for the combination strip of the cable lock. “What’s the number?” he asks.
“Six-four-one-five.”
He dials in the code, but he does it wearing a puzzled frown. “Why that? What’s the significance?”
“What do you mean?” I’m smiling already because I love that he assumes there must be a significance.
He arches a wry brow at me. “C’mon. Don’t try to tell me six-four-one-five doesn’t stand for something,” he teases, unlocking the bike before winding up the lock. “And I wouldn’t believe you if you said it was the last four of your social. What is it? The Age of Aquarius or something.”
I burst out laughing. “N-no,” I stammer, grabbing my handlebars to steady myself as I double over. “It’s Gemini’s mirthday.”
Drew blinks. “His what, now?”
If it’s possible, his confused expression makes me laugh even harder. “Hismirthday,” I try again when I’m able to speak.“Mirthas incheerorgladness.I rescued Gem when he was about ten weeks old. I can only guess when his actual birthday is, so we celebrate the day I adopted him. June 4, 2015. Hismirthday.”
“Youcelebrate.”The set of his eyes and his slight nod tell me he thinks this is totally weird.
“Of course we celebrate,” I snap with mock irritation. “Clearly, you’ve never been to a dog mirthday party. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Drew quakes with laughter. “Clearly, I don’t, Guppy,” he says shaking his head. He stashes the bike lock in my basket. “Please enlighten me.”
I mount my bike. “Believe me, darlin, I’m working hard on it.” I push off and begin pedalling, feeling like I’ve just dropped the mike when Drew’s laughter echoes after me.
As we ride back, I fill him in on Gemini’s mirthday traditions. A walk through Moncus Park where he always insists on a dunk in the watering trough. A trip to Petsmart for him to pick out a new Tuffy toy and his favorite treats, salmon jerky. And, finally, I sing a rendition of “Happy Mirthday” while presenting Gemini with a homemade sweet potato oat cake in the shape of a bone.
“Party hats are optional, but we always wear them,” I tell Drew as we approach the intersection of St. Mary and St. Landry. I’m watching the road, but I don’t miss his deep chuckle.
“You’re freakin’ hilarious, Guppy.”
“I’m joyful,” I correct with a haughty lift to my chin. “There’s a difference. People think there’s not enough goodness in the world, but joy and love can be made. You just have to be serious about making and filling up your life with them.”
We coast to a stop at the light. I’m waiting for him to say something in response, but when he doesn’t, I turn to face him. Drew is staring at me, his expression intense and unguarded.
“What?” I ask a little breathless.
If I weren’t watching him so closely, I wouldn’t notice the minute shake of his head. “I’ve never known anyone like you.”
My blush is immediate, and even though his words make me shy, I love the way he’s looking at me.
The light turns green, and I step on the pedal. “C’mon,” I tell him and then promptly turn right, away from our neighborhood.
“Where are we going?” he calls after me.
“You’ll see.”
I don’t want to tell him my plan because I don’t want him to be all sensible and responsible and find some way of stopping me. I push hard until we approach the intersection of St. Landry and University, and then I pull into the parking lot of the Circle K.
“What’s up?” Drew asks, rolling up to where I’ve stopped.
I pluck the lock from my basket and nod toward the convenience store. “I need something.”
His brows lower with suspicion. “What do you need?”
