“How much therapy are we talking about here?”
“Couple years.”
“Did it entail a brain transplant?”
“Just lots of talking through how my inability to functionally communicate my needs stemmed from a family that never allowed me to. Same old.”
“They still don’t allow you! They’re trying to—to erase you and turn you into something else!” I am incensed. Enraged. Incensedly enraged. I want to mutate into Beezilla and pillage the extended Ward family at the next Thanksgiving. Levi better invite me.
“I’ve tried to reason with them. I’ve yelled. I’ve explained myself calmly. I’ve tried... a lot of things, believe me.” He sighs. “Eventually I had to accept what my therapist always said: all you can change is your own reaction to events.”
“Your therapist sounds great.”
“He was.”
“But I still want to commit patricide.”
“It’s not patricide if it’s not your own father.”
An angry scream bubbles out of me. “You should never talk to them again.”
He smiles. “That will send a strong message.”
“No, seriously. They don’t deserve you.”
“They’re not... good. For sure. I’ve considered the possibility of cutting them off many times, but my brothers and my mom are much better when my father isn’t around. And anyway...” He hesitates. “Today wasn’t that bad. It might have been the best dinner I’ve had with them in a long time. Which I’ll chalk up to you telling my father to can it and shocking him into temporary speechlessness.”
If that dinner was “not bad,” then I’m a K-pop idol. I gaze at the dusky Houston lights, thinking that the way his family treats him should diminish him in my eyes, realizing the truth is just the opposite. There’s something patient about the way he quietly stands up for himself. About the way he sees others.
Another pang near my heart. I don’t know what they’re about. I just really... “Levi?”
“Mm?”
“I want to tell you something.”
“I told you: your lungs are not shrinking because you’re training for a 5K—”
“My lungs are totally shrinking, but that’s not it.”
“What, then?”
I take a deep breath, still staring out the window. “I really, really, really like you.”
He doesn’t reply for a long moment. Then: “I’m pretty sure I like you more.”
“I doubt it. I just want you to know, not everyone is like your family. You can be... you can be you with me. You can talk, say, do however you want. And I’ll never hurt you like they did.” I make myself smile at him. It’s easy now. “I promise I don’t bite.”
He reaches over to take my hand, his skin warm and rough against mine. He smiles back. Just a little.
“You could rip me to shreds, Bee.”
We are silent for the rest of the drive.
•••
SCHRÖDINGER BURROWED INTO my backpack, tore a package of kale chips, decided they were not to his liking, and went for a nap with his head pillowed on the half-empty bag. I burst into laughter and forbid Levi to wake him up before I can take a million pictures to send Reike. It’s the best thing to happen all day—a reminder that while Levi’s actual family might suck balls, his chosen one is the best.
“I’m very impressed,” I coo to Schrödinger while petting his fur.