Buzzfeed, Boys, Black Magic

black magic

"Black magic?" I volunteered.

He furrowed his brow.

"No," he said, "black magic is supposed to be bad right? It's like, kismet."

And then he winced. "Is that weird? Did I make it weird?"

"No," I said, and I heard him exhale. "So what next?"

"Well, what do you want to do?" He asked.

The next thing I said spilled out of me:

"I want to move out to California with you."

Rafi theatrically reached for the transmission, "Well let's go pack." And then, just when I felt I might faint, he burst into giggles. I did not.

He blinked when he realized I wasn't laughing with him.

"You're serious?"

"Sure," I said. "The only thing I've got going for me is you."

His creaky laugh made me cringe.

"Stop saying that," he smiled, but he sounded irked. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop cutting yourself down like that?"

"What I meant to say," I watched his eyes soften, "is you've really been the only thing that's made me happy since my mom got sick."

"Oh Lee," he said, and I think my heart broke.

He held his arms out, and when I didn't move toward him quickly enough, he pulled me toward him. I was confused.

"I like you so much," he kissed my forehead.

"Okay," I said.

"So," Rafi didn't let go of me. "If you went to California with me, what would you do?"

"I dunno," I said.

"What would you want to do?" Rafi pulled away just far enough to look into my eyes.

"Cook you dinner?" I asked, like a grade-schooler at a spelling bee.

"You don't even cook yourself dinner," he laughed, "don't think I haven't noticed your ramen collection."

"I could start?" I guessed. "I could clean your apartment too."

"Are you serious?" Rafi now leaned back into his seat. His arms retreated onto his lap. "Lee, do you hear yourself right now?"

"Yes?"

"You're offering to be my maid." Rafi said.

"Maids are people too!" I said. "There's nothing wrong with being a maid!"

"I know that," Rafi said. "And if you had always been a Marie Kondo and Betty Crocker rolled into one and weren't coming off," his voiced cracked, "what happened to you last year, I'd believe that maybe you'd might always be cool with cleaning and cooking for me."

"I think I'm a better judge of what I'm cool with than somebody who isn't even me-"

"Lee," Rafi said. "I love that I make you happy." His body shifted to face the street in front of us. "But I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," I said.

"You're not fine," he said. "I mean you are fine," he looked me up and down, "but you need something other than me that makes you happy."

"So, there are more things in California I could do," I said. "I could probably apply to a grad school or something there."

"Would that make you happy?"

"Yes," I lied.

His gaze bounced around my face.

"What if I wasn't in California and you had to go to grad school in California there alone. Would that make you happy?"

I nodded.

"Be honest."

"I don't know?" I said.

Rafi sighed.

"But why does that even matter? Who in their twenties knows what will make them happy? Why can't you just let me come with you?" I asked. I realized I'd lost the plot here, but I couldn't help what I said next. "If you were all that into me, wouldn't you want me to?"

"I am all that into you," Rafi's honey eyes looked sincere and serious. "This crazy part of me is all-in on the idea of you flying out with me. But I'm not moving a town over, I'm moving across the country to a place you've never been before, where the only person you'd know will be me."

"So what?" I said, "you're cool and I don't need a lot of people."

He shook his head.

"See what if you coming out with me keeps you from discovering you'd be a kickass engineer or that you belong in a research observatory. I couldn't be happy with that," he said, "and, in two years, you might not be happy with that either."

He reached for my hand. He rubbed my palm with his thumb.

"You're vulnerable right now, Leela," he said.

My blood pressure went up.

"I'm not vulnerable," I said. "I'm twenty-three, I'm sober, I'm self-aware, just because I've seen some shit-"

Rafi's gaze fell to the floor.

"Even Neil Armstrong needed to eat and sleep," he mumbled.

"What?" I said, even though I heard him fine.

He looked at me.

"You're a real girl, Lee," he said. "You're not a cyborg," he caught himself, "I mean, android- whatever it is you like to call yourself. You can't keep putting yourself in second place. You put yourself second to your school work, you put yourself second to caregiving- which in both cases was understandable and admirable. But I can't let you put yourself second to me."

"I-" I didn't know what to say. And then I couldn't say anything.

For the first time since I graduated third grade, I felt my eyes well up. I blinked, but it was too late. A tear rolled onto my cheek.

I couldn't mop it away before another one appeared. Soon, I felt a steady stream drip onto my neck and chest. Rafi took a Kleenex pack from his center console. He pulled out a tissue and I grabbed it from him before he could hand it to me.

"I'm leaking," I said.

He lunged forward and hugged me against his chest. It was an uncomfortable angle. The edge of console dug into my stomach. I didn't want him to let go.

"I know it's crazy to say this now," he said, "and maybe I shouldn't, but here goes. I love you, space girl."

I caught my breath and exhaled. I was heartbroken, of course. But I also felt a pang of something that resembled relief. 

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