I clean my shirt, grumbling, “It really doesn’t feel like you’re sympathizing with me at all.”
“I’m just not following what the problem is. You’ve found a nice girl that you like, but your brain thinks she’s just a hobby, and you’re scared of losing her, but you don’tlikelike her. Like.C’mon, Lex. What am I supposed to say to that? ‘Stop obsessing’ doesn’t work because you don’t want to. ‘Continue obsessing’ doesn’t work because you’re scared your obsess-centered brain will fail on you. ‘Let whatever will be will be’ doesn’t help ease any concerns. There’s nowhere to go with this narrative.”
Wincing, I meet his eyes.
He slouches back against his sloth, detached. “You like the girl, Lex. That’s the truth. Maybe you like her as a friend, maybe more. But the bottom line is that you like the girl, and sheisn’ta hobby because people aren’t hobbies. There isn’t a problem.”
It feels like there is. I nurse my melted ice cream bowl and try to sort things out in my head. I’m not sure how we got on this topic, not sure why I said anything about Calypso to start with. Every time I realize how long it’s been since I latched onto her, I get the slightest bit panicked and wonder when everything is going to fall apart. I kind of just blurted,So you remember my sugar glider?and Jason blanked on me before saying,She’s still around?
Because evenheknows how I am.
That led into a ramble about how, yes, she is, and how long it’s been. And that descended into the fact I’m still hanging onto my every moment with her, desperate to learn more and pick her apart and discover everything.
Jason makes an odd sound, and I look up to find his spoon hanging out of his mouth.
My nerves bristle. “What?”
“I just thought of something, and you aren’t going to like it. Particularly because you seem to like denying it.”
Hesitant, I mutter, “What?”
“Okay. So don’t read into this. Just answer the questions.”
My brow rises.
“Why do you change from hobby to hobby?”
I blink, immediately trying to read into things as I reply,“Because I get bored of the same old thing easily. I collect all the things and bounce around merrily.”
“What makes you decide whatever new thing you’re going to do?”
I set my empty ice cream cup aside and try to ignore the wet spot on my shirt. “Huh? I don’t know.”
“Okay. Narrowing it down. Why’d you pick up violin?”
Clearing my throat, I look away. “Because. A character in a cartoon I got obsessed with played it.”
He huffs like he’s frustrated. “Okay, but let’s drop theobsessword. What about acting? What sticks with acting?”
“It’s constantly changing, so I don’t get bored?”
“Yes, but?” He motions for me to continue, but I don’t know what he wants from me. When I don’t say anything, he groans. “Lex. In that first moment when something new appears before you and you dive into it head-first, what do you call that instant, that one where you fall?”
I blink, then my jaw clenches. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Lex.” He grins, half-singing my name.
“No. I don’tfall in lovewith each new hobby, that’s ridiculous.”
“You spent three hours telling me about the origin of violins, where the best ones were made, and then you played me a song you learned in a week. If that wasn’t love in your voice, I don’t know what it was.”
I scrub a hand through my hair. “So I getpassionate. Big deal. The point of the matter is that the passion goes away when I inevitably get bored. Even with acting. I reach for a challenge and am able to maintain just enough interest to do well, but I’m nothing more than a floater.”
“A floater who doesn’t want to float away from this girl.”Jason stares at me, spoon sticking out of his mouth, and lifts the weird claw-paw of his sloth. “Accept it. You fell in love with a person this time, and people, unlike things, are a little harder to float away from. They are dynamic and do unexpected stuff. Calypso seems to be exciting your bored little brain at every right turn.” He motions with the sloth’s paw. “You fell in love. You’re scared to lose the buzz. End of story.”
