I nod to the picnic bench by the sidewalk. We walk over and sit on the top, our feet on the bench below, both of us leaning our elbows on our knees. Her knees are sharp and angular, like her face. My knees look like raw hamburger below my jeans, and I’m about to share that with the bitch who called me Gimpy.
“You know about my accident, right?”
She nods while she bites at one of her nails. “Yeah. Nina told me about your mom, which, you know, sucks. And”—she flicks her head to my ankle—“the I-can’t-play-football injury.”
I snort and glance up the street. That same couple from before is coming out of a shop, hand in hand, both of them in shorts on this warm day. I’m in jeans. Always in jeans. Would Nina be okay by my side with my deformity on display for everyone to point and stare? Would I be? That’s one thing I haven’t done since the accident. I live in Florida, and I haven’t put on a pair of shorts in more than a year. And I’m a guy. Who sweats. Not a good combo.
I grab a twig from the bench and start breaking it into pieces. “The ankle injury is more involved than I told her. Most of my left leg was shattered, and I had extensive third-degree burns.”
“On your leg?”
“Both legs, just past my knees. It’s pretty horrible, and I’m…” I toss the rest of the twig on the grass and drop my head in my hands. “I’m scared shitless, Leigh. If you want the truth, there it is. I’ve never fallen for anyone the way Nina twists me up, and I lied to her so we could get close before I unveil my messed-up legs. Things didn’t go so well with Lacey when she saw the damage. I’m a little sensitive about it. It doesn’t excuse the lying, but whatever. It’s not like I can take it back. The question is, will you help me or not? Will you go inside and ask Nina to come out so I can talk to her?”
All I get is silence. Then, “I think I need to see them.”
I snap my head up sure she’s smirking, but her face is dead serious. “Are you out of your mind? A minute ago you called me Gimpy. No chance in hell.”
“Sam? It is Sam, right? I call you so many names it’s hard to keep track.”
I shake my head in awe of her nerve.
“So anyway, Sam, I know Nina pretty well. It might help if I can see what you’re working with. I mean, I still haven’t removed you from my douchebag list, but you’re no longer at the top. So let’s head to the guys’ washroom.”
Like hell. “No fucking way. Not happening.”
She runs her hand up her neck and tugs her hair. A seagull swoops down to scoop a crust of bread from the road. The smell of barbeque floats over from behind the hostel. Then she says, “What if we play a version of ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours’?”
I fist my hands, wanting this conversation to be over. I need to talk to Nina and make things right. “I’ve seen your legs plenty. They’re…fine. The answer is still no.”
“What I mean is, if I share something with you, something personal, will you tuck your mangina away and show me your fried legs?”
Un-fucking-believable. The Dragon Lady returns with a vengeance, and she wants me to put myself on display for her. Probably so she can tear me to pieces. Knock my ego down until it can’t be resuscitated. And mangina? Is it really that obvious? Damn those doctors for whatever they did to me. “Let’s put it this way, Leigh. Unless you’re about to tell me you’re a hermaphrodite with no discernible sex, and I get to see your lack of genitalia, there’s nothing you could share that would change my mind.”
“I’m gay,” she says.
“You’re what?”
“Gay. You know, I dig chicks. Not in the happy sense.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Seriously?”
“Are you asking me to tie your nuts in a knot? ’Cause it kind of sounds like you are.”
I wouldn’t have pegged Leigh for gay. My cousin James came out a few years back, and we practically threw a party. It meant we could all stop pretending we didn’t know. Aside from being effeminate, he was always checking guys out, and girls never came up. When he finally opened up, we got closer. He’d picks me