Will Grayson, Will Grayson(49)
Author: John Green

me: tiny, enough.

tiny: i think she needs to know what she’s missing, will. i think she needs to know how happy –

me: ENOUGH!

a lot of people hear it. tiny certainly does, because he stops. and maura certainly does, because she stops staring blankly at him and starts staring blankly at me. i am so mad at both of them right now. i take tiny by the hand, but this time it’s to pull him away. maura smirks at that, then opens her notebook and starts writing again. i make it to the door, then let go of tiny’s hand, head back to maura’s table, grab the notebook, and rip out the page that she’s writing on. i don’t even read it. i just rip it out and crumple it up and then throw the notebook back on the table, knocking over her diet coke. i don’t say a word. i just leave.

I am so angry i can’t speak. tiny is behind me, saying

tiny: what? what did i do?

I wait until we’re out of the building. i wait until we’re in the parking lot. i wait until he’s led me to his car. i wait until we’re inside the car. i wait until i feel i can open my mouth without screaming. And then i say:

me: you really shouldn’t have done that.

tiny: why?

me: WHY? because i’m not talking to her. because i’ve managed to avoid her for a month, and now you just dragged me over to her and made her feel like she matters in my life.

tiny: she needed to be taught a lesson.

me: what lesson? that if she tries to ruin someone’s life, it only gets better? that’s a great lesson, tiny. now she can try to ruin more people’s lives, because at least she’ll have the satisfaction of knowing she’s doing them a favor. maybe she can even start a matchmaking service. clearly, it worked for us.

tiny: stop it.

me: stop what?

tiny: stop talking to me like i’m stupid. i’m not stupid.

me: i know you’re not stupid. but you sure as hell did a stupid thing.

he hasn’t even started the car yet. we’re still sitting in the parking lot.

tiny: this isn’t how the day was supposed to go.

me: well, you know what? a lot of the time, you have no control over how your day goes.

tiny: stop. please. i want this to be a nice day.

he starts the car. it’s my turn to take a deep breath. who the hell wants to be the one to tell a kid that santa claus isn’t real. it’s the truth, right? but you’re still a jerk for saying it.

tiny: let’s go somewhere you like to go. where should we go? take me somewhere that matters to you.

me: like what?

tiny: like . . . i don’t know. for me, if i need to feel better, i go alone to super target. i don’t know why, but seeing all of those things makes me happy. it’s probably the design. i don’t even have to buy anything. just seeing all the people together, seeing all the things i could buy – all the colors, aisle after aisle – sometimes i need that. for jane, it’s this indie record store we’ll go to so she can look at old vinyl while i look at all the boy band cds in the two-dollar bin and try to figure out which one i think is the cutest. or the other will grayson – there’s this park in our town, where all the little league teams play. and he loves the dugout, because when no one else is around, it’s really quiet there. when there’s not a game on, you can sit there and all that exists are the things that happened in the past. i think everyone has a place like that. you must have a place like that.

I think hard about it for a second, but i figure if i had a place like that, i’d know it right away. but no place really matters to me. it didn’t even occur to me that i was supposed to have a place that mattered to me.

I shake my head.

me: nothing.

tiny: c’mon. there has to be someplace.

me: there isn’t, okay? just my house. my room. that’s it.

tiny: fine – then where’s the nearest swing set?

me: are you kidding me?

tiny: no. there has to be a swing set around here.

me: at the elementary school, i guess. but school isn’t out yet. if they catch us there, they’ll think we’re kidnappers. i’ll be okay, but i bet you’d be tried as an adult.

tiny: okay, besides the elementary school.

me: i think my neighbors have one.

tiny: do the parents work?

me: i think so. tiny: and the kids are still in school. perfect! lead the way.

this is how we end up parking in front of my house and breaking into my next-door neighbor’s yard. The swing set is pretty sad, as swing sets go, but at least it’s made for older kids, not toddlers.

me: you’re not actually going to sit on that, are you? but he does. and i swear the metal frame bends a little. he gestures to the swing next to his.

tiny: join me.

It’s probably been ten years since i sat on a swing. i only do it to shut tiny up for a second. neither of us actually swings – i don’t think the frame could take that. we just sit there, dangling over the ground. tiny twists around so he’s facing me. i twist, too, putting my feet on the ground to prevent the chain from unwinding me.

tiny: now, isn’t this better?

and i can’t help it. i say

me: better than what?

tiny laughs and shakes his head.

me: what? why are you shaking your head.

tiny: it’s nothing.

me: tell me.

tiny: it’s just funny.

me: WHAT’S funny?

tiny: you. and me.

me: i’m glad you find it funny.

tiny: i wish you’d find it funnier.

I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore.

tiny: you know what’s a great metaphor for love?

me: i have a feeling you’re about to tell me.

he turns away and makes an attempt to swing high. the swing set groans so much that he stops and twists back my way.

tiny: sleeping beauty.

me: sleeping beauty?

tiny: yes, because you have to plow through this incredible thicket of thorns in order to get to beauty, and even then, when you get there, you still have to wake her up.

me: so i’m a thicket?

tiny: and the beauty that isn’t fully awake yet.

I don’t point out that tiny is hardly what little girls think of when you say the words prince charming.

me: it figures you’d think that way.

tiny: why?

me: well, your life is a musical. literally.

tiny: do you hear me singing now?

I almost do. i’d love to live in his musical cartoon world, where witches like maura get vanquished with one heroic word, and all the forest creatures are happy when two g*y guys walk hand-in-hand through the meadow, and gideon is the himbo suitor you know the princess can’t marry, because her heart belongs to the beast. i’m sure it’s a lovely world, where these things happen. a rich, spoiled, colorful world. maybe one day i’ll get to visit, but i doubt it. worlds like that don’t tend to issue visas to f**kups like me.