What We Talk About When We Talk About Love - Darcy Vebber

That night, Lisa found out Sam was already in love. Crazy about a girl named Deena who went to Central and had been the star of their senior cabaret show. He said she was amazing and he sounded so happy it was almost impossible not to share his pleasure. “She just glows. I saw her and I had to meet her. I went right backstage and introduced myself”

“How do you do that?” Bobby asked. He didn’t seem to expect an answer. “I mean, how?”

Lisa tried not to sulk. They were sitting in the dark on Bobby’s patio, drinking sun tea from the big jug his mother kept out there and smoking a joint. Heat rose from the cement beneath their lawn chairs. The temperature wouldn’t drop below eighty until dawn.

Bobby wanted to know what happened to their friend Rachel, who brought Sam to the show. Sam said Rachel was a pal, really. A friend who understood. He insisted that Deena was unlike any other girls he knew. “She’s not just beautiful, she’s confident. She knows who she is.” He lay back with his hands under his head and sighed.

Lisa made a little dismissive noise. Later, when she lay in bed and replayed the conversation, she couldn’t decide if she had meant him to hear her or not.

Sam said, “What?”

“Well. It just seems kind of limiting. To know who you are when you’re like eighteen.” She leaned back in her chaise to look up into the night sky. So endless and beautiful. She pulled her attention back to the patio and felt irritated. Right. One of those impossible girls who were already complete, who didn’t get lost in the night sky or her own thoughts. A girl Sam already was in love with. She thought she could feel Bobby watching her. “You might be disappointed.”

Bobby laughed. “I told you Lisa was smart.”

Lisa turned to look at him. Had he? Had Bobby talked to Sam about her? She felt a wave of anxiety.

“She’s got you figured.” Bobby sat up so he could lean a little closer to Lisa. “Sam is a romantic. Every new girl is amazing, every one is going to change his life.”

“And you?” Lisa felt bound to ask.

“I’m a pragmatist.” He sounded solemn and even a little angry. “I don’t believe love is going to change anything.”

This time, Sam laughed. He had just finished taking a final toke of the joint and smoke burst through his nose as he coughed and sputtered. Finally, he leaned up on one elbow to look at Lisa. “What about you?”

She was startled. This was the first conversation she could ever recall having about love. The idea of answering Sam, of looking in to his handsome face, meeting his eyes and saying anything about love froze her brain. The word naked came to mind. That wouldn’t help. In school she had learned when you don’t have an answer, ask a question. “You mean like romance?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess romance. Attraction, sex, all that. Are you waiting for Prince Charming?” He smiled.

“No,” she said as if she had been accused of something.

“I told you,” Bobby said again. “She’s not like that.”

Lisa was surprised to feel tears come to her eyes. It was as if something had come into reach and then been whisked away again. “Of course I believe in love.” She sounded completely unsure of herself. Clearly, she had no idea what she was talking about.