Hello August, Please Be Good To Me

Chapter 15: With Thanks

My summer days are far from uneventful. It also seems like I never drive anywhere by myself. Which is probably because I don't. Almost every day that I'm not at the mall working my shifts and trying not to get fat, the rest of my time is spent hanging out with Justin. I haven't exactly worked up the nerve to introduce him to my dad and Danté for obvious...or not so obvious reasons, depending on how you look at it. I'm not sure what me and Justin are. I've hugged him plenty of times, we've held hands once, and he bought me flowers for crying out loud! But he hasn't kissed me, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. There are moments when we're quiet and staring at each other. Then I realize it's been more than a few minutes since we've said anything and I instantly feel awkward.

Hey dad, here's my guy best friend- Yeah no, that sounds like a borderline lie.

Daddy, this is Justin, my boyfrie- Um, but that comes off very strong. Too strong.

"Did you give out your thank you cards yet?" My dad asks, as I open up my laptop to play on Photoshop. My sheepish face does nothing to pacify him. "Lyric, what are you waiting for? Betta get your butt writing."

Justin and I find ourselves in Target about an hour later, me looking for the greeting cards section, Justin on the hunt for a toy for his some family friend of his step-mother's. "Just pick one and move on," Justin teases me on my indecisive nature. "But I need like twenty, I think, and these come in sets of eight. And I like all those patterns. They're cute." I open my arms wide to encompass all the card designs that have caught my eye and push for reigning favorite.

"We're gonna be here so long, we'll get locked in for the night."

"Shut up!" I swat his shoulder, and put a set of cards back and replace it with three more. While I can't decide on just one, a mint green and brown one with the words "thank you" in cursive script and a brown butterfly in the corner looks especially pretty to me. But I can't just choose that one and walk away. "Okay, why don't you just get all of the ones you like, and we move on?" Justin suggests. I sigh.

"But they have to be the same!"

"Says who?" Justin asks exasperated. He has a lot of patience, but I can tell his joking, easy going nature is wearing thin right now.

He picks up five of the designs I liked best, places them in one hand, and grabs my free hand, tugging me along. "Okay! We're done!" I turn back to the cards and reach out halfheartedly. "But I like the gold and silver and the red striped one too!" We walk down the toy isle, and Justin looks around slightly overwhelmed.

"Guy or girl?" I ask.

"Girl."

"Oh, that's easy." We walk down the doll section, but nothing seems to catch Justin's eye. "Just pick one and move on," I mock, and he rolls his eyes, but his smile is a relief. "What the hell do you get a little girl?" I laugh and start listing things on my fingers. We're still holding hands somehow. "A Barbie Doll, a baby doll, a princess book or anything princess related, a McDonald's cash register..." I point towards the fast-food themed cash register that convinced me and my classmates once upon a time ago that there was no greater job than working at a franchise dressed in full uniform. We would pretend at school and say "May I take your order," to the horror of some listening adults. At this stage in my life, a job is a job and now I work in food business. "Hmm," Justin contemplates, picking up a Barbie doll and considering his options.

I think about how I follow the two official Barbie accounts on Instagram and like the pages religiously, but I don't feel comfortable offering that knowledge just yet. Or maybe ever. After walking through the two aisles decorated pink to signify the girl themed toys we circle back to the Barbie dolls and I pick one up with an extra pair of clothes to dress the doll in, and carry it along with thank you cards in the crook of my arm. "Now, you'll need a birthday card, won't you?" I say, and Justin gives my hand a squeeze. "Yeah no, Olivia probably has that covered." We make our way to the checkout line. "You call her Olivia?" He shrugs as if it doesn't matter. "Yeah. I mean I've known her since before I started middle school." I have always found it weird when step-kids call their parents by their first name. But then again, I don't know what else they could be called except 'mom and dad'. Justine lets go of my hand long enough to pay for the doll and my thank you cards. "Wait, now you didn't have to do that," I protest, but he waves it off and nods his head at the lady scanning our items. "You know, speaking of Olivia, she'd love to see you. You should meet both of my parents actually." I grow instantly nervous at the suggestion. Then I feel guilty because both his parents know of me and my dad has no idea about Justin's existence or the role he's assumed in my life. I've successfully managed to steer clear of that conversation with either of them.

It occurs to me that it might be more than a good idea to define our relationship, and I'm not only thinking that because Mariana has mentioned it more than once, demanding to know. When I'm not with Justin or thinking about him subconsciously, my mind tries to sort out my many thoughts. If a date is defined as two people romantically involved spending moments of time alone, and dates are what define the relationship, then are we dating...? Cat and Mariana say yes. Danté would laugh at me and my inability to puzzle out such a simple concept, not giving me a straight answer to my question(s). I do like Justin, and I still get a rush whenever we're together or apart.... And he just paid for my crap (sorry Dad)! I glance at his side profile as he gathers the two plastic bags and he catches my eye and smiles. "I'm paying for lunch," I say decidedly, and lead the way out the automatic doors. "Fine," he says in the car, and looks over to me like he wants to kiss. I pretend I don't notice, and reach over in my bag. When I sit up, the moment has passed, and his arm is laid across the back of my chair as he looks out behind us. "Where to?" he asks, and I take a picture of us to save to my phone.

How did I ever get so lucky?