The End Zone

by L.J. Shen

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.” —William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

He slowed when he saw her, so she picked up the pace. Later in life, she’d learn that this was their special tango. One pulls, the other pushes. One wants, the other gives. One loves, the other hurts.

On the eighth night, the girl gave the boy her heart. He took it silently, never offering his back.

“Question is—do you want to kiss the ground I walk on, or better yet, me?” His elbows are on the desk now, his head cocked to the side attentively. “Because, Jolie, baby, you’re the only person I’m looking to impress. Ideally between the sheets.” He winks.

No way is she having Mark’s babies. That fucker doesn’t drink keg beer and knows how to tie a tie without looking in the mirror. He’s not the type to run in the mud and rain for her. To climb on trees with her. To sit on the sidelines at school and talk shit about people in codes only she and he know. I’m that person. I’m her person.

“You’ll still get free rent, but for as long as you’re my fake girlfriend, I’ll also pay the bills. You’ll get free access to my truck—anytime you want. Last but not least: you’ll get me. All of me. No other women. No distractions. No games. Just you and me, JoJo. Because it’s always been the two of us, and it’s time we act this way, even if only for a little while.”

Who the hell does he think he is, checking out my JoJo? Whoa. My JoJo? She’s not mine. Only that’s not entirely true. She feels a lot like something no one else can ever have, so who the hell says she’s not mine? And if she isn’t, I’m going to make her mine.

“You’re kind of a prick, you know that, Poirier?” Oh, I know. Grew up with one. Became one. Vicious cycle, etc.

“Bullshit. I’m your boyfriend. You don’t have to doll-up for me. I like the real you. The girl who snores when she is tired and smells of garlic every Sunday after her grandmama’s special casserole.”

He is the kid I fell in love with at the age of ten, and the man I would give the world to at the age of twenty.

“That’s okay. I skipped my carbs today, Miss Real Girlfriend. I think I’ll just feast on you.”

“Because I just fell in love. I’m talking love at first sight. Your pussy is just so darn pretty, I wanna marry it. Can I marry your pussy? The rest of your body can stay single, I swear.”

“He is yours. I am yours. We’re both yours. If…” Pause. Beat of silence. Visible swallow. “If you’ll have us.”

It’s not a phase. It’s here to stay. I’m in love with my best friend. With the girl who ran in the rain for me.

I’m in love with Jolie Louis. And I’m going to conquer her. Consequences be damned.

“You’re in my blood, in my veins, in my fucking soul. You’re in my heart and in my fingertips and on my fucking lips like a prayer. You’re fucking everywhere, Jolie Louis. Always will be.”

“I’ve never wanted anyone but you, JoJo. Not truly. Not wholly. Not obsessively.”

And it occurred to me, out of fucking nowhere, that I’d rather die than see you with someone else who holds the potential to give you the things that you need. It occurred to me that I would never be able to be happy for you if you married someone else. It occurred to me that I can’t even think of being with anyone but you, and when I do have a child, I want it to be with you. I love you, JoJo. But you already know that. I’m also in love with you. Crazy about you. Can’t live without you.”

“I love you, I love you, I fucking love you. No matter what happens in my life, you’re the constant thing I can count on. The shelter in the storm, the calm in my chaos.”

“I love you.” It’s my turn to say. “Every part of you. The broken boy. The strong man. The lighthearted jock and the heavyhearted kid. Every piece of you is loved and cherished, Sage Poirier. Always remember that.”

“That good. I never thought it could feel like this.” “Like what?” He takes my wrist and presses it against his pouty, perfect lips. “Like forever.”

“I love you, angry boy,” she says, and I answer her with the only thing that pops into my head. “I love you, brave girl.”