May 2085: crazy for you, part 6

Natty and Charlie are 20. 

This was Natty’s idea. She didn't know that, but it was, because she’d mentioned some little thing about working on helicopters, and then he remembered an old toy helicopter he used to take apart and put back together. She remembered that, not him, because she was so incredibly smart, and she noticed things, and she knew him in ways he didn’t even know himself sometimes.

So Charlie blew off studying in the twenty minutes before his Biology exam. He'd studied hard enough already, and he didn’t really care about the genus of frogs right now. He ducked into the electronics lab and he picked up the tools he remembered playing with so many years ago. These were more powerful than the ones he played with as a boy, but he knew what they did. He grabbed a few scraps and put something together, a battery at its heart, electricity, life. It worked.

It was crude, but it worked, and that filled him with more joy than he could explain. Fuck yes. He felt refreshed and alive and excited like he hadn’t been in a long, long time. He couldn't wait to tell Natty.


He also aced his Biology exam. He didn’t doubt that he would. And then he went quickly to find the office of an old professor he had two terms ago. The answer to all of his problems was more simple than he'd ever imagined it could be. "How about Bionics? It's a perfect blend of biology and technology. We have a Bionic Engineering program, with your grades, there isn't a question you'd get in. It's a dual major, so you wouldn't lose any progress. You'd finish with a master's degree. What do you think of that?"

He wouldn't have to start over. He wouldn't lose anything. He wasn’t a failure, or a loser, or the kind of guy who couldn't finish what he started. He wasn’t the kind of guy who ruined everything.

"That doesn’t sound bad at all," Charlie said.

He couldn’t wait to tell her. He wouldn't mess up everything. Everything was going to be just fine.

—

Natty was already home from her concert. “Sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I’m late, I had to talk with my professor, I didn't mean to take so long. I had to fill out some...”

She sat on the floor with her skirt tucked neatly around her thighs, papers strewn on the floor behind her, her face in her hands, sobbing. God, she looked too pretty to be crying like that.

“What's wrong?”

“Everything,” she burst out. "I failed my Tax Culture exam, and I miss my parents and I miss Hilary and Isaiah and how things used to be. And I miss us hanging out together, and I want you to make friends with my friends. And I'm scared you won't love me anymore if I need to take some space and do my own thing for a while. I'm scared I'll mess everything up. And I don't want to be a grown-up. I miss how you used to be so happy, and weird in a funny way, and now you're different and so sad. And I lied, because I'm sad too. And I did take you for granted. I did and I'm sorry."

He moved slowly to the floor, unsure of which part to focus on. He picked up her exam papers. 53%, Fail.

"I'm pre-med," she said. "Why do I need to know tax culture anyway? Who writes these stupid curriculums?"

"Do you want me to start them on fire for you?"

She nodded, wiping her eyes. "If you want."

They took the exam papers out to the courtyard and Charlie lit them up in the fire ring. He held her while they burned. But she was still crying, pushing herself away from him, her eyes full of worry and her lips trying to phrase some words that weren't coming out. He knew it wasn't the exam she was most upset about.

"Charlie, I need to tell you something, and I don't really know how to say it, so I'm just gonna... I need to go stay with my parents this summer, and I need to go alone."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I don't think so," she said.

"What do you mean, 'you don't think so'? What does that mean? You want us to take a break? You're leaving me?"

"Yes."

He couldn't believe this was really happening. Maybe he'd heard her wrong. "When are you going?"

"Five days."

"That's so soon. When are you coming back?"

"I don't know."

"Are you coming back?"

"Yes, I am coming back. At least by the start of next term."

"That's like four months from now! You don't want to see me for four months?"

"It's not that I don't want to see you, it's more like I just don't want to have a boyfriend for a while."

"But what did I do? I don't understand what I did. I know I don't always feel like going out and making new friends. But I’m sorry. I can do it, if you want. I can try harder."

"It’s not your fault, Charlie."

"Then why are you leaving me?"

"I just need to be alone. I just need space. I have to... I don't know. I have to be single, as a grown up woman. I need to not be your girlfriend for a while."

"Are you going to date people? Am I supposed to date people?"

"No. I mean, if you feel like that's something you need to do. I'm not going to say you can't."

What did that mean? He didn’t want to sleep with other people, and he didn’t want her to either. He hated the idea of it.

“It’s not about sex. That’s not why I’m doing this. But if you don't feel like you can wait for me that long...”

"Please don't be mad at me. Please don't hate me. I hate feeling like this. I just love you so much and everything is so decided already and I feel like I can't breathe sometimes. It isn't fair that I met you when I was twelve. That wasn't fair!"

She broke into pieces, her knees shaking and her face flushed white, gasping so fast he thought she might pass out. He reached out to her.

"God, Natty, I don't know what to say. I'm just... I’m sorry. I'm not mad. I didn’t mean it would be too long.”

He thought she might push him away, considering she was trying to break up with him, but instead she folded herself into his arms, sniffling and breathing into his shoulder, the familiar bend of their bodies coming together. How perplexing that he should be the one comforting her. It was all backwards and wrong and nothing made any sense.

"I still love you so much," she whispered. "Do you believe me?"

"I'm trying." He took a big breath and let out a sigh. In all their years, he’d never seen her so anxious and unhappy. And somehow his being with her was the cause of that? How was he supposed to feel about that?

"We're so young, and we've never been on our own. We’ve never been not together since we were kids. And we need to be. We need to be now, because it'll just get harder the older we get. Then when I come back, we won't have any regrets. We can be together and get married and we won't feel like we missed anything. You might not realize how important that is."

Married. The word was both sweet and lethal on her lips, because he'd always just assumed they would. Vague and fuzzy as it was, he never saw anyone else in his future but her. Losing her would be like cutting off an arm. How do you let go of the other half of your whole life?

His laugh was choked and caught in his throat. "If I told you I didn't want to marry you, would you stay?"

"No," she said, smiling.

She was never going to buy that he didn't want to marry her for a second.

"It'll be okay," she said. "I'm gonna go see my parents, and Hilary’s going to come down to visit me, and you'll have Gabby here for a few weeks this summer. And you're going to eat vegetables sometimes, and don't electrocute yourself, and make sure you leave the house and get some sunshine. And it's going to be okay.”

"But what if it's not okay? How can you know it's going to be okay when you don’t know what’s going to happen? What if you meet someone else? What if you want to stay? You can't promise me that everything is ever going to be the same."

She knew it too, and she didn't attempt to promise him anything. There were so many variables in this plan. So many ways for it all to go terribly wrong.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I meant to ask. How was your exam?"

He didn't know what to say. He thought he'd messed everything up, then he didn't, and he was losing her anyway? He felt so stupid now. It was supposed to be good news, and now it seemed so trivial. None of it even mattered.

“It was fine. Good, considering I'm changing my major.”

She waited for him to explain.

“I was late because I met with an old professor, and he helped me fill out some paperwork. He says it's a sure thing, and I don't even need to start over. I won't lose any credits. I thought I was going to mess everything up. And now, fuck.”

She put her hand on his cheek. “Tell me about it,” she said. “I want to know.”

It felt too big for him—right now anyway—but it felt good to say it out loud, like something he could see himself growing into. “Bionic Engineering.”

“Wow, what's that?”

“Robots and shit.”

“Wow,” she said again, beaming up at him with so much pride. “You are gonna make the best robots anybody ever made.” And the way she saw him then, with so much assurance and affection and release, was like she didn't know if she would ever see him again, but here he was. It wasn't fair she could look at him like that and still need to go. It was cruel and excruciating and yet somehow a little bit hopeful.

“Please don't leave.”

“I have to,” she said.

He kissed her. He didn't know if he was allowed to—if they were already broken up or if that came later, or if being broken up meant he couldn't kiss her. He couldn't imagine not being allowed to kiss her. But she didn't push him away. She kissed him back and she let him pull her close. They kissed slowly, and deeply, and like they never intended to stop, until she pulled away just enough to whisper, "Let's go to bed."

“You said we have five days left?”

She nodded.

“Can we stay in bed for five days?”

Her laugh was happy but exhausted. “Yeah,” she said. "If you want. That sounds nice."

What he wanted was for her not to be leaving him, but that didn't seem to be an option. So instead, he picked her up and took her to bed.

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