Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

It’s been a crappy week, and this is just the bread that makes the whole thing a shit sandwich.

“It’s okay. It is what it is. I’m going to make the most of it! When life gives you lemons…” It squeezes the acid right in your fucking eyes.

His beady eyes skitter across the hushed crowd, as though assessing how embarrassed he should be (the answer is very embarrassed).

storming away as fast as his furious, little legs will carry him.

Watching them is like digging a finger into an old wound. One that just won’t heal, no matter how hard I try. No matter how much work I put in. I yearn for that relationship. And I’ll never have it.

I’ve been in her presence for just over an hour, and I can tell she’s got a knack for helping people. For making a dark room feel just a little bit brighter. And that’s not something you can learn in the pages of a book.

The way her brain works is…refreshing. And I want to know more about it. I think I’d like to spend some time in her brain just so I can get the hell out of mine.

She doesn’t give a fuck what I think. Nor should she. And I admire that about her.

“But tired is kind of relative. I have been more tired. And there are worse things to be than tired. I’ll let my body rest tomorrow. Tonight, we make memories.”

“Oh, tonight? Tonight is just our meet-cute. It’s the night we’ll tell our kids about one day. Remember?”

And 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.

To the outside observer, it would appear that I’m staring at the guy I showed up here with. But they would be wrong. I’m staring at his dad.

Because for a moment, it felt like someone in the world really saw me—and liked what they saw. When Gwen looked at me today, I hadn’t felt like a second choice.

“But, Bash, what if you live?”

All I know is that the first thing that comes to mind is, If I live, I’m coming after you.

“Well, I think being nice has more to do with behaving in a way that’s driven by social expectations. Whereas being kind is behaving in a way that’s driven by a concern for other people’s well-being. And the two are not necessarily mutually exclusive. I’d be rather wary of someone who is nice but not kind.”

I grew up with this feeling of never being good enough, never trying hard enough. Never quite fitting in.

Perplexing—that’s what Sebastian Rousseau is. Inconsistent too. His moods shift like the tides.

“Well, we’re all constantly changing. Evolving. Growing. I don’t know a single person who is the same as they once were. I know I’m not. And how boring to just…know who you are and think there’s nothing more out there for the rest of your life.”

I like Bash. I really like Bash. Unfortunately for me, I like Bash enough to keep my distance. It shouldn’t be too hard. I was never planning to stay anyway.

“Man, you’re even more miserable than usual. Were all your good moods in the kidney that you gave away? Are you stuck with the bitchy kidney?”

Yes, I, Sebastian Rousseau, feel like a giant pile of steaming dog shit for even thinking about crossing that line with Gwen.

I let out a beleaguered sigh and try to remember that, at twenty-four, I was pretty stupid too.

Me when I’m 24…

Living in my head feels like a constant battle sometimes, but standing next to Gwen with my feet in the sand makes everything feel a little bit better.

“Fuck it,” I mutter. Then I kiss her.

AND THE CROWDS REJOICE

Wise words from the most unlikely source.

“If I were you, I don’t think I’d be okay. You need to take care of yourself, not just everyone else. Or it will come back to haunt you.”

A new day where I can try being nicer. No—kinder.

I don’t know if I can force myself to have a nicer, more palatable personality, but I can always be kind.

It’s the realization that she’s everything I want.

I shake my head, wondering how the fuck I got to a place where I’m talking about my feelings with the town conspiracy theorist and the girl I got drunk in an airport with.

Too many people walk around never reflecting on their actions, never owning them, never admitting when they’re wrong.

“This is beautiful.” “Yeah. It is,” Bash agrees. But when I turn back to face him, he’s not looking out the window. He’s looking at me.

Down on the ground, all the reasons to stay away from her feel insurmountable, but up here, staring at her? They don’t feel like reasons at all. They feel like excuses.

I don’t think he realizes how good he makes me feel in all the most simple ways. The way he mends my wounds without even trying.

When he looks at me like this, I feel like I might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. I feel like I’m his.

I decide my full name doesn’t sound so bad when he’s the one saying it.

I look her over, knowing that she’s exactly what I’ve needed. I’ve been living with a dark shadow covering everything around me, and along comes Gwen, peeling it away, letting all that light in. With her, the world looks so different. So much better. For the first time in years, I feel excited about the future. With her, anything is possible.

There’s an embroidered patch over his heart that spells out Eaton and I focus on that instead.

Eaton???

“Hi. I’m Beau. Here to help you out. What do you say we get the hell off this mountain?”

RAHHHHHH BEAUUUUUUUUU

“You’re a fucking wild card. Unpredictable and never what I expect. You scare the hell out of me every damn day. But today more than any of them. Because I thought I lost you.” His voice cracks. So does my heart. “And I love you, and I hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell you.”

An invite to spend my life going on adventures with Gwen? “I can’t think of anything better.”