Page 120 of Let the Light Shine Through

I wait until they leave to prop my hands against the doorjamb to the bathroom, telling Gia, “You can come out now. I scared them off.”

From the other side, I hear, “Did you swallow them?”

“What? Swallow them?”

Gia pulls the door open, saying, “Yeah. Barn Swallows, Tree Swallows. They can be pretty ruthless scaring off predators.”

Did I Swallow them… Nope. Still not a good use of words, especially not in reference to my parents. Or anyone’s parents.

“I don’t know about that, but I did get rid of the parental figures,” I mock her previous term, and she rolls her eyes, tossing a paper towel in the garbage.

I stop her in the doorway, telling her seriously, “I’m sorry about my parents. They were—”

“Right. Your parents were right.”

What’s this now?

She pushes past me, saying, “They’re total Brown-Headed Cowbirds, but they’re right about snowboarding.”

“What are those?”

“Brood parasites. Shit parents.”

I shake my head, following her back to our table to throw away our trash with more force than necessary.

I do still miss snowboarding and I have to fight certain urges. Not like I used to, but it’s definitely still a part of me. When I first moved back to New York, it was worse. Ignoring the constant need. Fighting my body’s natural setting.

Now it’s more manageable.

Soon, it might even be nonexistent.

But why is that such a big deal to everyone?

“Don’t think before answering. If you could do anything for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

Easy. “Be with you.”

Gia stares at me silently, then pushes through the door, holding it open for me while I grab the to-go part of our order from Kylin. I’ve been calling her Kylin because her name tag clearly says Kylin, but Gia calls her Kyle for some reason.

Jesus Christ. Am I my mother?

I instantly duck my head down, making sure my nose isn’t high in the air.

“Don’t you want more out of life than just a girlfriend?” Gia asks over her shoulder.

“Don’t think before answering,” I tell her, and she freezes at my Chevy’s passenger door. “If you could do anything for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“This,” floats out of her mouth in a whisper.

I wrap an arm around her, nuzzling her neck. “If your life is enough, why can’t mine be, too? It’s the one I chose.” And will continue choosing.

“What if you chose wrong?”

I spin her around, so I can look into her eyes when I tell her, “I didn’t.”

Why do I get the feeling she’s pulling away?

She stretches up to kiss me, but it’s not the reassurance I thought it’d be. It’s slow and soft, things Gia isn’t usually.