“No,” she said, taking a bite out of her cupcake. The quest for the nickname would not end this day. “What?”
“I’m actually eighteen, well, now.”
“What,” she said, the joy of the occasion having left her face. “Today is your nineteenth birthday,” she said.
“Eighteenth,” he winced.
She slumped into the couch, staring straight ahead. “I can’t believe this,” she said.
“The good news is that if we ever have sex again, it will finally be legal.”
“Oh my god, you are not helping!” She stood up and crossed her arms. “Why did you lie to me? You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”
“Would you have gone out with me if you knew I was seventeen?” he asked.
She looked at him, still pacing. “Yeah… maybe… I don’t know.”
He got up and put his hands on her shoulders. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I would or wouldn’t have done,” she said, pushing him away.
“Does it matter anymore? Look, we’re here now, the same exact people we were yesterday. We’re two people lucky to have met and formed this wonderful relationship,” he said, taking her in his arms. She started to push him away, but then gave up and put her arms around him.
“You’re lucky you’re tall,” she said. He had grown another two inches since Thanksgiving. “And yes, we will have sex again… maybe even tonight if you can refrain from pissing me off any further.” He snorted at her remark. “It’s not funny! You’d better promise not to lie to me ever again!”
“I only lied for the sake of our relationship,” he said. She looked up at him expectantly. Realizing just in time that the period for logical discussion had passed, he continued, “But I promise, I will not lie to you ever again.” This was perhaps the biggest lie he would ever tell her, and he knew it. He had no choice. He wanted to tell her everything and impress her with his ability, but he couldn’t risk her safety by bringing her into his insanity. How would she react to him being a time traveler… if she even believed him? He also didn’t want to lose her if she didn’t believe him. It was hard enough convincing Pete, and he was logical.
“Let’s go to bed,” she said at last, leading him into the bedroom. “You’re sure you’re legal now, right?”
“Yes, you can no longer statutorily rape me.”
“Oh my god,” she said, tossing his hand away before disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.
“I was only a child!” he yelled, falling into bed.
The end of spring brought the end of Arnesto’s freshman year of college. He was a sophomore now — and then some. Between advanced placement exams, earning foreign language credits in high school, and taking an extra class each semester, Arnesto now had fifty-four college credits — only six credits shy of becoming a junior — and there was no slowing him down. He was able to squeeze in another overloaded semester during the summer break. By the end of fall semester, he was a senior. The next spring consisted of the end of his computer science program. All he had remaining by that summer was some general education classes which he completed easily. And then he was done.
“What do you mean, you’re done? You’re graduating?!” his mom asked. She had called from southern California, where she had moved with Gerald after the divorce.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Arnesto, I can’t believe this. I am so proud of you. You’re only nineteen!”
“Thanks, but it wasn’t a big deal. I just took an extra class here and there.”
“A college graduate at nineteen, wow. When is the graduation?”
“It’s in a couple weeks. But Mom, I know it’s short notice, and it’s a long trip—”
“I’m coming to your graduation. You denied your father and me your high school graduation; there is no way we’re missing this.”
“But Dad is going to be there. Will you two be alright?”
“Don’t be silly, we’re civil now,” she said. This was news to him. He had mostly avoided family interactions since he first attained his independence two years earlier. One of the benefits of obsessing over school was that it always gave him an excuse to avoid family drama. He always had to “head back to school and work on that project.”
“Great,” he said, unable to fake any enthusiasm. Just because his parents were civil with each other didn’t change the fact that he was still nineteen and didn’t want them fretting over him.
“I’m going to go see about plane tickets,” she said. “This is so exciting! I’ll call you back once I know my itinerary. Bye, honey.”
“Bye, mom,” he said, hanging up the phone.
“It will be fine,” Katrina said.
“I didn’t say anything,” Arnesto said.
“I could tell by the look on your face.”
“What was the point of them getting divorced if they’re still going to get together and harass me every time I do something amazing?”
“Well, I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that too often,” she kidded him. “Besides, I like your parents. They’re nice.”
“They’re the ones that named me Arnesto,” he grumbled.
Katrina disappeared into the bedroom and came out a few seconds later carrying a present.
“Maybe this will help,” she said, handing him the package. “I thought you could use this now that you’ll have some free time on your hands while you’re looking for a job.”
Arnesto tore off the wrapping.
“A Super Nintendo?! No way! I loved the SNES!” He cringed internally the moment he said it.
“You… what?”
“I said, ‘I love the SNES!’ Someone brought one into the computer lab the other day. I got to play it briefly and meant to ask you if we could get one.” It was an outright lie. “I can’t believe you already got it! Thank you so much! C’mon, I’ll hook it up and we can play.” He was already tearing into the package.
“I was going to start making dinner—”
“Pleeeeeease!”
“Okay, fine,” she said, unable to resist his enthusiasm. She sat on the couch and waited for him to connect everything.
To her surprise, it took him no time at all to set everything up, as if he had done it many times before. He was both excited to play and relieved she believed his falsehood. He would sooner lie and tell her he had already played two-player with Saddam Hussein than tell her truthfully how he had already spent hundreds upon hundreds of hours playing the SNES in a previous life.
“Here, you have to be Luigi,” Arnesto said, handing her the second controller.
Cutting Ties
Outside Katrina’s Apartment
Wednesday, September 18, 1991
3:30 p.m.
“It’s good not owning a lot of stuff, isn’t it?” Arnesto asked, looking into the fifteen-foot U-Haul barely a third full despite containing all their belongings. “What time is it?”
“About 3:30,” Katrina said. Arnesto shut and locked the cargo door. “Perfect. Time for one last lap around the college before heading to the highway. You can drive, I have one loose end to take care of,” he said, tossing her the keys. After a quick stop at the manager’s office to turn in their apartment keys, they left the complex, drove downtown past Mona’s, and arrived on campus.
They drove past the dorm where Arnesto had paid $440 each month for one of the creaky twin beds in a shared bedroom he had hardly seen since moving in with Katrina more than a year and a half earlier. Despite having moved out, the university still forced him to pay because he was younger than twenty-three. Somebody had to pay for the new sports arena. “College: America’s greatest racketeers,” he said. Katrina ignored him. She was busy getting used to driving the truck, which was much bigger than anything she had driven before.