check two weeks later.
My father still isn’t over it. I sued the college who gave him a free education. “I can never show my face there again,” he’d raged at me. “It wasn’t even the college’s fault that you went to a damn party!”
He might have a point. Except the college has never actually told me what happened that night. When I hit my head, I lost my memory of that evening. All I know from the hospital report is that three cadets brought me into the emergency room.
We tried to find out more, but the Academy kept dishing out unsatisfying answers. “We’re investigating.” “There was some confusion.” “It happened off campus.”
After I got my settlement, they stopped pretending to take our calls. And my father lost his taste for pressing them. “I guess you don’t need answers now that you’re a millionaire.”
Before then I’d sometimes struggled to win my father’s approval. He didn’t understand my intellectual interests. And he really didn’t understand that I was pansexual. But he mostly dealt with that. He was a good dad.
But now I’d become a true embarrassment to him. It’s not an easy thing to be. The settlement money has helped me get back on my feet. I bought a house in Burlington, and started school again, this time at Moo U. It’s not like I bought a yacht or first class seats to Vegas.
It doesn’t matter. He’s never getting over it.
The rest of the money—after the house and the lawyer’s hefty cut—is invested in bank CDs that mature right before the start of each semester. So my tuition is covered through graduation, and I don’t have piles of cash free to waste on weed and booze.
I get good grades. I made new friends. My life is back on track, even if my relationship with my parents is not.
And I never miss a session with Lenore. She gets me.
“Tell me something fun about the farm,” she says. “Besides the bear.”
I open my mouth to tell her about the food, but then I hear myself say, “There’s a girl. Daphne Shipley. I have it bad for her.”
“Really?” Lenore sits back, and her smile is dishy. “Do tell.”
“Well…” My chuckle is dry, because I sound like a middle school kid confessing his crush. “The attraction is driving me a little nuts. I’m super distracted. And I think it’s mutual, but she doesn’t encourage me.”
Lenore cracks up.
“Wait—is that what a therapist is supposed to do? Laugh at the patient?”
“I’m laughing with you,” she says with a broad smile. “This is great, you know? You need to celebrate the idea that you’ve finally got an average college guy’s problem. Boy likes girl. Girl is on the fence.”
I suppose she has a point. “Yeah, sure. But it’s been so long since I wanted someone that maybe I lost my touch? My inner slut forgot all his best moves.”
“Nah,” she says, dismissing this problem with a wave of one hand. “That stuff is like riding a bike. Let’s talk about Daphne. Is she Dylan’s twin sister?”
“That’s the one.”
“Didn’t you tell me Dylan’s sister was moving to Burlington in the fall? And might need a spot in your house?”
“Yeah, that’s the same sister. The rent is so cheap that she ought to say yes.” I barely charge my friends anything. It’s mostly out of guilt. Like I’m not sure I’m entitled to own a house in central Burlington, paid for by the US Tactical Services Academy. I’m trying to share the wealth with other college students who are just trying to get by.
“That’s a potential complication, then,” Lenore says. “Maybe Daphne doesn’t want to get involved with her future landlord.”
“Maybe,” I concede.
“Just keep working that Rickie charm. You wouldn't be the first guy who's ever been attracted by a woman who plays hard to get.”
“Yeah, but there’s one more complication—we met before.”
Lenore blinks. “Before when?”
This is where things get weird. It’s where they always get weird. “I first met her during my time at the Academy.”
Lenore’s face falls. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah.”
We lapse into silence for a moment. This is my real issue, and the reason that I see Lenore. It’s not because of my parents, or my childhood. It’s because I lost six months of my memories—basically from the day I left for Academy basic training, up until the weeks after my hospital stay. And it’s really freaking hard to navigate a brain where some of the crucial details are missing.
“How do you know?” Lenore asks softly.
“I recognized her face.”
“And…?” She