When September Ends by Andrea Smith Page A

convince him what I’m about to say is the truth. I’ve outstretched my arm as if to further halt him in his tracks.
    It works. He cocks his head to the side, trying to figure out what my deal is. “Baby…what’s going on?”
    “You need to listen to me, Jesse. I’m not staying, I can’t.”
    “What? Why?”
    “I only came by because we’ve been missing one another on the phone all week. Plus, well—what I have to say to you should be said in person and not over the phone. That would be just, tacky .”
    “I don’t understand,” he says, starting to come towards me again.
    Think fast, September.
    “Remember when I said I needed time?”
    He nods.
    “Well, I took that time, and I need to let you know that I don’t want this thing between us any longer.”
    “Thing?” he says, eyes flashing. “I thought this thing was love?”
    I’ve hit a hot button and that’s good. That’s what I need to do. Again and again until he believes this lie. Because it’s the right thing to do for everyone.
    “I know that’s what we both thought, ” I continue, “But for me, well, I think it might’ve been more of a sexual awakening than anything else.”
    “What the fuck are you saying?”
    He’s good and pissed. You can do this.
    “I mean that there’s someone else.”
    And now he’s got a sardonic grin on his face. “Yeah, right. In the course of a week you’ve fucking found someone else and are kicking me to the curb? I don’t believe you, babe.”
    “I don’t care whether you believe me or not, Jesse. And I’ve known him longer than a week. Just because you don’t know about him doesn’t mean it’s a lie.”
    Jesse studies me and his eyes are saying it all. “I’m listening,” he says, a cold steel edge to his voice. “What the hell is going on, September?”
    “Uh…it’s Brandon,” I say, “Remember him from the casino?”
    “Yeah, you’re neighbor; the one you claim is just a friend, right?”
    “Yes, that’s him. The thing is, Jesse, that friendship has kind of turned into something else, you know? And the fact is that, well…he’s closer to my age, and we seem to have so much in common. “I can’t stay because I left him asleep in my bed at the apartment and I need to get back before he wakes up.”
    I watch as his face grows cold; his eyes are nearly black when what I’ve said to him sinks in. “He’s in your …bed?”
    I don’t miss a beat. “Yes, yes he is.”
    He’s deadly quiet. And then the question I know he will ask comes out. “Have you fucked him?” It comes out like an accusation more than a question. I don’t want to lie to him, but this needs to happen. It’s the right thing to do.
    “Jesse,” I plead, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, so please… please don’t make me lie to you.”
    I can tell by his expression that he takes that as a “yes.”
    “Go,” he barks, “Get the hell out of here then.”
    I run from the garage, the chilly October wind whips around me as if to punish me even more. I pull my keys from the pocket of my jacket and as the tears start to spill, I manage to get into my car and navigate the ignition.
    I don’t remember driving back to my apartment. I pull my car in front of the duplex, and I know that I need to pull myself together before I go inside or I’ll be playing twenty questions with a hung over Brandon.
    I lock the car and walk across the street, heading over to the park that is just a couple of blocks down. It’s quiet there on a Sunday afternoon. I wipe the tears from my cheeks as I grab one of the swings and sink down onto the black rubber, feeling it come up around my hips and tighten up to keep me from falling out.
    I spend the next hour in silence, swinging on that swing, looking at the falling leaves that continue to swirl around my feet and somehow convince myself that I have done the right thing.

Chapter 15

    I’m not sure how long I stood in the garage after I ordered September out, smacking the wrench I