east, but Iâve always believed that suffering is one thing people shouldnât compare.
The biggest difference between my upbringing and Hardinâs is due to our mothers. My mom was fortunate enough to have a good job with the city, and we were able to fall back on my dadâs life insurance from his factory job. Hardinâs mom worked long hours and barely brought in enough money to support the two of them. They had it much, much worse.
Itâs hard for me to imagine my stepfather, Ken, the way Hardin knew him. To me, heâll always be the kind, lighthearted, and sober man he is todayâthe chancellor of WCU, no less. Heâs done so much for my mom and he loves her as much as anyone could. He loves her more than liquor, and Hardin hated that, but now he understands that it was never a competition. If Ken could have, he would have chosen his son over the bottle long ago. But sometimes people just arenât as strong as we want them to be. All of Hardinâs pain festered and grew into a fire that he couldnât contain. When everything hit the fan, and Hardinâand the rest of usâfound out that Ken isnât his birth father, the fire took one final massive breath and burned him one last time. He made the choice after that to take control of his life, his actions, and himself.
Whatever his therapist is doing is working, and Iâm glad. And itâs done wonders for my mom, who loves that angry boy as if she gave birth to him.
I pass a couple holding hands as they walk their dog and feel even sorrier for myself. Should I be dating? I wouldnât even know where to start. I want the convenience of having someone around all the time, but Iâm not sure I could actually date anyone other than Dakota. The whole dating game just seems so grueling, and itâs only been six months since she broke up with me. Is she dating? Does she want to? I canât imagine anyone ever knowing me better than her, or making me as happy as she did. She has known me so long and it would take years for anyone to know me as well as she does . . . As she did.
I know I donât have years to wait; Iâm not getting any younger here. But thoughts like that arenât helping me move on.
The couple stops for a kiss and I look away, smiling because Iâm happy for them. Iâm happy for the strangers who donât have to spend their nights alone, jerking off in the shower.
Gah, I sound bitter.
I sound like Hardin.
Speaking of Hardin, I can call him and blow at least five minutes before he hangs up on me. I pull my phone from my pocket and tap on his name.
âYeah?â he says before the second ring.
âOne of your famous warm hellos.â I cross the street, continuing my aimless trek in the general direction of my neighborhood. I should get to know this area better anyway; may as well start today.
âWarm as Iâm gonna get. Do you need something in particular?â
An angry cabdriver shouts out of his window at an elderly woman as she slowly crosses the street in front of his car.
âIâm looking at your future self, actually,â I tell him, laughing at my insult. I watch the scene in front of me to be sure the woman makes it across okay.
He doesnât laugh or ask what the hell Iâm talking about.
âIâm bored and wanted to talk about your trip here,â I say into the phone.
âWhat about it? I havenât booked the flight yet, but Iâll be there around the thirtieth.â
âOf September?â
âObviously.â
I can practically see his eyes roll from here. âAre you staying in a hotel, or at my apartment?â
The old woman reaches the other side of the street and I watch as she goes up some steps and into what I assume is her place.
âWhat does she want me to do?â His voice is low, cautious. He doesnât have to say her name, hasnât in a while.
âShe says sheâs fine with you staying at the apartment, but if she changes her mind, you know you have to go.â
I donât draw many lines between the two of them, but Tessa is my priority in this situation. Sheâs the one I hear crying at night. Sheâs the one whoâs trying to become whole again. Iâm no foolâHardin is probably even worse off. But he has found himself a support system and a good