Read Love Is the Higher Law for Free Online Page A

sleep. So I shrugged and said I had to go, and Jasper told me he was Jasper717 and even wrote it down so I’d have it, and I asked him if he’d seen Hedwig , and he said he hadn’t, so we made a date, even if we didn’t use the actual term date . I spent all of Monday worried and excited about it, and then Tuesday happened, and instantly the world was all out of whack, and I couldn’t help being concerned about him, because all of a sudden he wasn’t just this guy I’d met, he was the guy I was supposed to go out with on September 11th, and I felt that had to mean something. Sowe emailed a couple of times, and when the subways were mostly working again, we rescheduled for tonight, only instead of Hedwig he suggested I come over and watch a video, because his parents were stuck in Korea and not getting home anytime soon. I think this means something, too—not that his parents are in Korea, but that he’s inviting me over. That seems more personal than a movie. So that’s how I end up lying to my parents and telling John the truth, and then when the time comes, I take the F train out to Park Slope for this date that might not really be a date. When I get there, he meets me at the door and suggests a restaurant nearby. I say sure, because it isn’t like I know anyplace else in the neighborhood. It’s awkward at first, because even though we have this big thing in common—this September 11th connection—we still don’t know each other that well. Even before we order, he asks me where I was when the planes hit, and I ask him where he was, and we compare notes. He’s the first person I’ve known who missed it, who slept through it, and part of me is jealous that he didn’t have to see it, and part of me is glad that I saw it, because otherwise it would be harder to believe. I feel I can tell him this, because it’s not like it is with my parents, who are so worried about me being worried and who are so sad when they think I’m sad. He doesn’t have to be affected by how it’s affecting me, and that allows me to be honest. He’s such a good listener that I don’t even realize he’s listening—I’ve been on dates before where the other guy makes it really obvious he’s listening, and that’s not really being a good listener, because that’s asking to be noticed. But Jasper letsme talk, and when I say I’m babbling, he assures me I’m not. I think we’re both a little shell-shocked from the week—there still aren’t words to really explain it. I tell him how I’ve only just started listening to my disc player again, and even then I’ve had to pick my music really carefully. I have to read tracklists before I play a mix, which is something I never usually do, but now you never know what song’s going to come on and bring it all back again. Like the new U2 album suddenly has this depth that it didn’t have last week, because now when he sings “Walk On,” he’s singing to all of us. And Peter Gabriel’s “Red Rain” appeared on a mix Dan had given me, and I almost lost it. Then I put on the mix Annie made me for my birthday, and this Amy Correia song, “Life Is Beautiful,” came on, and she was singing about lying in the gutter and looking at the stars, and I thought, okay, there’s still a lot of beauty in the world, even if I’m not feeling any of it. I tell Jasper about how the strangest things are making me cry, like this news story about these Starbucks employees who are staying up all night to stay open for hospital workers and rescue workers, and I ask him if he’s had moments like that, too, crying at silly things, and he says he tends to detach from it all. “So you just withdraw?” I ask, not really knowing how someone could detach right now. And he says, “Not totally.” Then, probably seeing I need more explanation, he adds, “I mean, you can’t let it get to you.” I say, “Because if you let it get to you, then the terrorists will have won?” This is a joke on my