My Heart's in Alabama

8 - Matt

As soon as I get outside, the bright lights and city streets are another brick-wall-hitting realization that this ain't home. I can't just go wandering around New Orleans like I own the place like I can in Lake Hutton. Who knows where the hell I'd end up. In the back of a van on my way to Mexico with a gun to my head probably.

I look up at my mom's apartment. I can't go back in there. Not when I just made a big point of leaving. My eyes draw downwards to her office. My heart stings with anger. Her office really is the last place I want to hang out, but it's better than nothing I guess. At least I can get away for a little bit.  That is, if you consider being surrounded by the reason she left us "getting away."

I stare at the Tyler Artichture sign on the door and can't help but scoff. Couldn't even use the family name. She really doesn't want anything to do with us, does she?

I turn my head back towards the city streets debating just going for it. I linger for a few seconds, weighing my options.

Ugh, whatever. Screw it. I'm a big boy. I can read street signs. I'll be fine.

I forge on ahead, sure as hell that I'm not gonna get lost. And then...

Yep. I get lost.

I stand on a street corner, trying to remember which street I was just on and where I came from, but the lights, people, and endless chatter and noise are so damn confusing. Maybe if I go down this way...no, that's not right...maybe it was that way...

My heart races a little. It starts to sink in that I'm in a huge city and I'm all alone. 

"What's wrong, baby Tyler?" I hear from behind me. "You lost?"

I spin around and my night gets ten times worse. It's Logan.

"That's not my name. It's Purdy," I say curtly, hoping she'll get the message.

"Well, excuse me," she says sarcastically with a smirk. "Guess you can find your own way home then."

She shrugs and turns on her heel. Somehow, she's so freaking smug about it, but knowing I need her, I suck it up and ask her to wait up.

"Where ya headed?"

"Back to my mom's apartment."

"Your mom's apartment?" She asks bluntly. "Don't you live there too?"

"Yeah, what's your point?"

"I don't know. No point really, I guess. I just usually call my house, my house. Not my parent's house that I also happen to live in. Seems a little detached, doesn't it?"

I stop and think for a second. And I hate that she's right. I never call my house back home my dad's house - it's my house. But my mom's apartment doesn't feel like mine. It still feels like hers and I'm a visitor.

Annoyed by her bringing this to light, I don't respond. I don't want to think about how I don't belong here and that I'm a visitor in my mom's life.

Thankfully, she gets the hint and we walk along in silence. Bad thing is, it doesn't last long.

"You don't like me, do you?"

No, I don't. I think, but don't say it out loud. Not to spare her feelings, but to avoid any more probing philosophical questions that make me think too much.

"I don't know you like that."

"You're right, you don't know me like that."

She pauses and I think the conversation is over, but I'm not so lucky.

"So, why is it that you don't like me?"

I think about not answering, but then I figure, why not? Maybe then she'll leave me alone.

"You and your friend laughed at me."

"Huh?"

Of course she doesn't remember.

"I saw you at the basketball game. You bumped into me, didn't even apologize by the way, and you and your friend laughed at me."

"Ooohhh," she says and laughs. Again. "Omg, we weren't laughing at you. Krista got the giggles because she thought you were hot."

Immediately my cheeks turn bright red. I've never been called hot before. Especially not by a couple of girls I've never even met before. And for her to state it so bluntly, makes me so embarrassed I kind of die inside. I seriously can't believe this girl.

I'm not quite sure what else to say, so I just say, "I have a girlfriend" and leave it at that.

But as I'm learning, Logan never leaves it at that.

"Damn, already? You work fast."

"She's from back home."

I stop my sentence there at first, but say screw it and give her what I know she wants. No point beating around the bush.

"And since I know you're gonna ask, her name's Kiersten. She's 4'11, has long, brown hair and blue eyes, likes baking and sitting by the water. She's smart as hell - way smarter than me, although kind of messy, but in a cute kind of way. We've lived next door to each other our whole lives and she's my best friend in the world."

There. That's it. That has to be it, right? Logan couldn't possibly ask me anymore questions. Can she?

Logan smiles, but to my surprise, her eyes get watery. It's a sad, longing smile that leads to a total tonal shift in the conversation that I'm not quite expecting.

"That's sweet. You must miss her."

My heart stings. I do miss her. Like crazy. But I don't want to think about that. I can't take any more philosophical digging. I need a new strategy.

Time to deflect.

"What about you, huh? What's your story?"

"Well, I had that once. Someone back home. If you had asked him 3 months ago that same question, he would have said her name's Logan. She's 5'5, has had every color hair in the rainbow and green eyes, likes platform boots and fishnets. She's smart and ambitious, but only in secret. She's annoying, but in a cute kind of way. I met her at a concert when we were 15 and I fell for her when she made fun of my bad fake ID even though hers was even worse. I don't care about the distance between us, we've got something special and I'll never let her go."

"3 months ago?" I ask, using her tricks against her. If she's gonna pick out these little details and pry, hell, so can I. "What about now?"

"He'd say, I'm a liar."

My mouth clamps shut with guilt for asking. I knew exactly what happened. Obviously they were no longer together, but I forced her to say it out loud. I took it too far.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's totally cool. You can ask me whatever you want, I don't care. Keeping it quiet doesn't change it."

I clamp up again. What she says hits me in a way I didn't expect it to. I think about everything we've kept quiet. The pain my dad felt when my mom left, the pain I felt myself, the struggle I was going through being on the football team, how alone I felt, my love for Kiersten. For years, none of it ever got said out loud. But now that it's out there in the open, is it better?

It doesn't feel like it. Things were easier then. Now everything is so complicated. My world is turned upside down.

In moments like this, I really wish I'd kept my mouth shut and dealt with the hand I was given instead of trying to change everything. I mean, look at me now. Lost and having an existential crisis with this girl I barely know

"But...I get the feeling you don't feel the same way?"

"I'm more private, I guess."

Logan nods and seems to accept my answer. But that could just be that we're here now and her time to torture me has run out.

"Well, looks like you're off the hook, kiddo. No more questions from me tonight."

"Thanks," I say quietly.

"Anytime," she says back and keeps her word. She stops there and walks away without any more questions.

Thank God.

I hate thinking.