Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

For the ones who were told their dreams were too dreamy but who went on to make them come true anyway. And for my awful high school English teacher, Mr. C, who looked me in the eye at sixteen years old and told me I’d never be a good writer. Thanks for the motivation.

I tell myself it’s just goodbye for now and not forever. Because the world works in mysterious ways, and it would never squander a meet-cute like ours.

He comes by his moniker “Crazy Clyde” pretty honestly.

I should move my hand—snap it back like I’ve touched a hot stove. Because this fire between us is bound to burn someone eventually. But I don’t.

I allow myself to acknowledge that I am not every person’s cup of tea. Maybe I am more than they can handle. And that’s okay because I’m quite fond of myself and no one can take that away from me. I’m at peace with who I am, so what you think of me doesn’t matter.”

Were all your good moods in the kidney that you gave away? Are you stuck with the bitchy kidney?”

he swallows and leans in close, closing the distance between us and coming almost chest to chest. I swear I can feel him inhale as all the air around me is instantly pulled out of reach. “The thing is, Gwen, next time you want to watch me, you should just ask.”

“Careful, Gwen.” She chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. And she doesn’t back down. Instead, her lips move closer to the shell of my ear. “Or what? You might man up and take something for yourself for once?” I snap. I take something for myself for once. My hands dart out and grip Gwen’s waist.