A stilted silence descends, so when I realize she’s not taking the bait, I pull out my phone and start yapping.
“There’s a new feature article. Did you see it? They have this new reporter on staff and he’s good, like, really good.”
Claire’s eyeing me like she thinks I might be delusional.
“We don’t have any new staff members,” she says.
“You do, though. Here, look,” I take the opportunity to hand her my phone. I’ve got the article all cued up, and I watch over her shoulder as she reads.
I Am the Dumbass
By Peter F. Santos
Every week for the past few years, the students of Bainbridge University have asked Claire Fowler for advice. She doles it out weekly, giving it to us straight. She doesn’t sugarcoat things; that’s not her style.
But I don’t need to tell Claire my story and ask her if I’m being a dumbass.
I am. There’s no doubt about it.
The question is, how do I fix it?
Well, I can start by telling Claire I’m sorry. I can tell her that when you love someone (because I love her), you support them no matter what. You put your fear aside, and you take theirs, too. When life gets hard, you stick by them.
Claire did that for me, but I didn’t do the same for her.
Claire Fowler is one of the toughest people I know, and that is saying something. She held her head high in this campus when half the population wanted that gorgeous head on a platter. She isn’t afraid to tell it like it is, and her fearless expose sparked much needed change on this campus.
She’s the most incredible person and I know, and I want her back
So, here’s the plan, Claire. Let me know what you think: You keep being fearless, and I’ll be right here beside you.
When she’s done reading, she looks up at me with unshed tears in her eyes. “Is this real?”
“So real we had to promise Andy season tickets to allour home games.” I clear my throat, because what I said in the article was a start, but it wasn’t enough. “Claire, I’m sorry. I didn’t put my faith in you, and there’s no one who deserves it more. I let my fear override any good fucking sense I might have. You were right. I need to talk to Kersey. And we need to figure out what the hell is going on up at Woodcock.”
“I’ve made some calls,” she says. “I’m investigating. It’s who I am, and I’m never going to change that, Pete. Not for anyone.”
I reach out to trace my finger over her cheek. “And I’ll never ask you to again. Your fearlessness, your sense of justice? They’re part of what I love about you and I was wrong to try and tamp that down. Can you forgive me? Because I will prove to you every day that I am worthy of you, that I’m the partner you deserve. I do some dumbass shit, sometimes, but I will be better for you.”
Claire’s smile—the one so rarely given—is blinding. “I like to think we make each other better,” she says. “And yes, I forgive you. You’re the best partner I could ask for. We do make a pretty good team.”
She leans in to kiss me. It’s not gentle, and we’re not shy. Somebody clears their throat, and Claire pulls back. “Do you think we should move this conversation someplace more private?”
“Absolutely,” I say without hesitation. “But first, I have a proposition for you.”
“No,” she says automatically.
“No?” I ask. “You haven’t even heard my proposition.”
Her smile is beautiful. “No more enemies with benefits. We’re not enemies, Pete.”
“Damn right we’re not, but that’s not my proposition.”
She waggles her eyebrows, and I laugh at my sexy,impatient girlfriend. “Soon, I promise. “But first, we’re going on a road trip.”
“A road trip?” she asks. “Is this your sneaky way of taking me on a hike?”
“No, but I’ll file that idea away for the future. For right now, you’re coming with me. Like you said, we’re a good team. We need to get on the road because it’s a decent drive and we’re gonna be late if we don’t start now.”
