“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“Don’t tell me Prom Kings are capable of such things?”
“Oh, you’re hilarious. Seriously, I’ve been thinking…about myself.”
I laughed. “Oh really, Mr Narcissist? You’re not supposed to admit that. Everyone always and only, really, thinks of themselves, but you have to keep up this huge pretence you’re interested in other people’s boring existences. You’re breaking the rules, Kyle.”
“Yes, well, it’s probably for the first time. But, ever since Yosemite…when you said you didn’t know me…”
I reddened when I thought of what I’d said. “I was on the defensive…I’m not very comfortable with people liking me.”
“Ha, I’d noticed.” He kissed the top of my head. “But I was thinking, you’re right. You don’t really know me. So, I was thinking of stuff to tell you about me, and…well…there isn’t anything. I don’t really even know who I am…”
I rolled closer to him. “Come on, Kyle. This is getting dangerously existential.”
“Hey, hear me out. Anyway, I went through everything I do, and put it into lists in my head – working out what I actually like, and what I do because it’s what I think people want.”
“And…?”
“And, I like basketball. But I don’t like my major.”
“What’s your major?”
“Political science.”
“Why don’t you like politics?”
“I like it enough. But I don’t love it. I don’t feel the passion, you know? Like you do, whenever you start hating on the patriarchy.”
“But politics changes things.” I curled further into him, sleepily.
“Does it? Do you know anything about our political system at all?”
“I used to have a crush on Obama.”
Kyle burst out laughing. “Who didn’t? But he’s a great example. Everyone thought he was going to change the world, there was so much hope pinned on him. But he couldn’t really do much, because our system is so warped. All his decisions kept getting chucked out by Congress… I just spend most of my lessons feeling really pissed off, rather than intellectually enlightened.”
I sat up and stroked his face, still feeling so lucky I was allowed to touch him.
“That’s a common side effect of being intellectually enlightened,” I said. “Has Whinnie not told you about her obsession with the Tao of Pooh? Basically, the more you know, the unhappier you are. That’s why Winnie the Pooh is always happy – he doesn’t get into politics.”
“Maybe I should switch to a major that makes me happier?”
“I’m sure there is one…” I stopped, and thought of Lottie’s speech. “Okay,” I said. “I don’t mean to go off on a tangent here, and I am more than happy to help facilitate this navel-gazing discussion about you we’re having here.”
“Oi.” He dragged me back and distracted me with kisses. I laughed into his mouth.
“But…well…why are you measuring what you like and what you’re passionate about by what makes you happy?” I paused and pushed my hair off my neck. “Have you thought about why I came to yours, the other night? What changed my mind?”
Kyle sat up and brushed his hand through my hair, pulling it back to where it had been. “Not really. I’m just really enjoying that you did.”
“I’m enjoying it too. But…well, it took a kick up the arse to get me there. I was chatting to my friends about the situation…I wasn’t sure what was holding me back. And it was ’cause…well…I live in England, don’t I? And you live in California and Brown, wherever the hell Brown is. I didn’t see how I could get into a situation with you and come out without being hurt…”
Kyle’s arm was instantly around me. “Hey, I’d never hurt you. You know that, right?”
I nodded, feeling sad, trying to get my words out. “I know. But, the situation, it’s bound to hurt at some point, right? Even if we figure something out…” I felt dangerous even mentioning the future, daring to think he may want to figure something out, that this could mean more to him than a summer fling. “That’s why I stopped things. But Lottie and Evie pointed out that being hurt or upset is no reason not to do something. In fact, sometimes the best things about people are the things that hurt them. Take my feminism for instance – sometimes I think it’s not worth it. I get so angry, like you, at how unfair it all is and how hard it is to change things. I don’t know how…happy it makes me, but it’s one of my favourite things about me.”
“It’s one of my favourite things about you too.”
“You, just saying that, is one of my favourite things about you.”
“God, we’re cute!” He grinned and pulled me in for another kiss. I could sense him trying to plaster over something, to distract me with happiness, rather than think about what I was saying. But I was determined to finish.
“I’m just saying, maybe political science doesn’t make you happy. But maybe that’s a good thing? Every huge political movement has come from people feeling majorly pissed off. Anger is good sometimes, if you use it the right way.”
Kyle went quiet, he looked out over the water. Then he turned, eyes sparkling.
“You know what? Now you’ve said that, I like that more. I’ll put that in my Kyle-likes-this column.”
“Why are you so hung up anyway? On who you are? For someone who had such an easy time in high school, you are a psychological anomaly with your low self-esteem.”
Kyle stared out at the water again. It was so black, with just tiny hints of moonlight echoing off each ripple.
“I guess I just worry I’m boring… You know you’re all about the feminism? Well, do you ever think it’s possible for men to suffer from sexism too?”
I nodded. “It’s definitely possible. Boys have to put up with crap gender roles too – feminism is about helping all of us. How come?”
Kyle picked at some rotten wood on the pier. “I just think there’s this crap guys have to put up with, if they’re nice men, I mean. The word ‘nice’ is almost an insult. I think there’s like, a gender stereotype, The Nice Guy, you know? Girls are so judgemental about it. If you’re a nice guy, you’re basically bland, and boring, and they don’t want to be with you… They say, ‘I love bad boys’, and then look really proud of themselves for falling for people they know are douches. Do you have any idea how many times a day people tell me I’m a nice guy?”
“You are a nice guy!”
“That means I’m boring!”
“And you’re worried girls won’t want to sleep with you?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Because, anyway, girls definitely want to sleep with you.”
He grinned, his happiness returning instantly. It was amazing how fast he ricocheted back to joyful, like it was his factory setting.
“Oh, do they?”
I went very red again.
“Kyle, you’re not boring. You’ve just not figured it out yet…”
“Whereas, you know who you are…”
I screeched a laugh. “No I don’t. I have no idea who I am. I’m just pissed off all the time. That’s all I know about myself. I’m pissed off. And tall. How attractive is that?”
Kyle scooped me up in his arms and pulled me onto his lap. He kissed me right on the lips.
“You’re very attractive.”
“So are you.”
We kissed gently, stopping here and there to stare at each other. His eyes were black in this light. He pulled away after a few minutes.
“I don’t like thinking of you going away. I’ve not been letting myself think about it.”
“It’s not my favourite thing to think about either…but it’s going to happen.”
We were both quiet, contemplating it.
“How many days of camp left?”
“Not many.”
“Seriously?” Kyle scratched the back of his head.
The night air soured around us at the cold hard truth of the situation. What were we supposed to say? It’s not like we loved each other, not yet. It wasn’t like that, I’m sure it wasn’t. I always knew if I fell in love it would be like warming up a can of soup really slowly. So why was I doing this? I had just under two weeks left in America after camp finished, but Kyle would be driving to Brown, to try and get a job early. The thought of it being just me and my mum actually didn’t appeal any more. It would just be her, me and Kevin – me gooseberrying my own mother, while she no doubt carried on living her life like I wasn’t there.