(Once) Again (7 page)

Liz put a second batch of cookies in the oven—good thing because I was about to finish off the first. It’s not like I had to worry about gaining weight. Without working out and keeping up with my muscle building, I was shrinking.

My definition was still there, but my T-shirts weren’t as tight. Bullshit if you asked me. It took me years to gain all that muscle, and it only took a few weeks to lose it.

“So what’s up with you and Kat?” Liz plopped on the stool across from me.

“Nothing,” I muttered. Did she not see the guy Kat was with? She had moved on and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I couldn’t even get her to talk to me.

“Are you seriously giving up that easy?” Liz shook her head. “Not every girl is going to fall at your feet, you know?”

“Clearly.”

“Are you incapable of anything but one-word answers?”

“What do you want me to say? She’s with whatever his name is.”

Liz shrugged. “It’s not serious.”

Wait. What? “How do you know that? Did Kat tell you?”

“No. But she didn’t have to. The way she looked at you was completely different from the way she looked at him. There was no passion, no chemistry between them. But you two.” She let out a puff of air. “It was intense.”

“So your theory is based solely on a look.”

“Yes, and I’m right.”

“Chemistry or not, it doesn’t matter. I try to talk to her about things, and she blows me off.”

“It’s a defense mechanism. I did the same thing to Zach. I was a total bitch to him because I was scared, and I figured pushing him away was the best thing to do, except he wouldn’t let me push him away.”

“He’s a stubborn son of a bitch.”

“And thank god for that. If he wasn’t, I’d probably still be pretending to love Joe.”

“Why did you date that douchebag again?” I never understood why she stayed with Joe for so long. Every time the three of us had plans, he cancelled. He put his band before her and treated her like shit.

Liz sighed and took a bite of a cookie. “Couldn’t get my heart broken if I didn’t open it up. I guess a part of me always knew I didn’t love Joe, but it didn’t matter because if I didn’t love him, he couldn’t hurt me. It was easier than facing the truth.”

“So let me get this straight. You stayed with an asshole because you were scared?”

“I never said I was perfect. Besides, doesn’t every girl have to date at least one jerk in her lifetime? It’s kind of like a requirement. God knows you’ve helped fulfill that requirement for a few girls.”

“In order to date you actually have to leave the bedroom.”

“Ugh! You’re impossible.”

I gave a knowing smirk and she threw a chocolate chip at me, but I caught it in my mouth.

Liz laughed, then continued. “The point is. Don’t give up. Not yet. A very wise man once told me, ‘It sucks to lose someone you love. But you’ve got a second chance. Not many people get that. You’d be crazy not to jump on it.’”

Leave it to my sister to use my own advice against me. I’d meant those words when I said them, and it might not have been as easy as I’d hoped it would be, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t fight for what I wanted.

“Sounds like a
really
smart guy,” I said.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Liz laughed. “But he did know what he was talking about.”

Liz was right. Kat was scared. It showed in the way she flinched away from me, how her body went stiff and rigid whenever I stepped close. Our summer together had been amazing, but it was intense, and two years later I hadn’t let go of it, and I’m sure Kat hadn’t either. The memory of us was perfect, but the one where we said goodbye hurt like hell.

For all she knew, when I healed I’d be going back to school, leaving her behind again. And maybe I would. I wasn’t sure. The only thing I was sure about was Kat.

The few times I called her after we parted ways weren’t enough. I didn’t fight for her. For us. Things just always worked out for me with little effort. When it came to getting Kat to go on a date, normally I would’ve given up, but it became a game I had to win. By the time things ended, I had already lost. My tail was between my legs and my ego was bruised.

“I’m a dumbass.”

“Well yeah,” Liz said, and I picked up a chocolate chip and flung it at her head. It smacked right in between her eyebrows.

“Thanks.” She tossed it in her mouth. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“Hello?” Zach’s voice floated in from the living room.

“In here,” Liz called out.

Zach walked in and held up the newest addition to his video game collection.

“We’re going to play video games, and I’m going to kick Zach’s ass,” I said.

Liz rolled her eyes. “Men.”

“What’d I miss?” Zach asked, walking over to Liz, and tossing an arm over her shoulder before kissing her.

“I was giving Josh a lesson on dealing with a girl with a broken heart, and how her blowing him off and being nasty isn’t because she’s a bitch.”

Zach picked up a cookie. “Dude, she’s just scared.”

“What are you, the chick whisperer or something?”

“No. I’ve just been through it. And if Kat is half as bad as this one,” Zach hitched his thumb at Liz, “then you have your work cut out for you.”

“Hey!” Liz screeched, and tickled Zach’s side, but he pulled her close, pinning her hands between them. “I apologized for my mood swings.” Liz looked up at Zach, and he kissed her forehead.

“I know. I was just teasing.”

“Are we going to play or what?” I asked, reaching across the counter and grabbing the game out of Zach’s hand.

Zach tilted his head at Liz with his eyebrow raised. The timer to the stove beeped and she gave a playful shove to his stomach. “Go, I have cookies to make.” Zach pouted his lip and Liz jumped up and kissed it away. “I’ll bring some in to you. Go.”

“You heard the woman, let’s go,” Zach said, and I followed him into the living room.

“Hey, boys,” Dad said, looking up from the TV.

“Hey, Dad.”

He sat up and nodded to the video game in my hand. “Let me get out of your way.”

“No. Stay. We can play later.” If I‘d known he was in there, I would’ve suggested holding off. I’d thought he was still outside mowing the lawn.

He scratched his head, brown hair sticking up in that spot. “I have to finish up in the yard anyway. The TV is all yours.”

“Do you need help?” I asked, though it was pointless. The man who had been letting me help him with yard work since I was able to walk wouldn’t even let me open a door by myself.

“No, I’m good, play your game,” Dad said, then walked out, leaving me feeling completely useless.

I plopped onto the couch, then realized I was holding the game. I went to get up and Zach held his hand up.

“Stay,” he said and took the disc out of my hand.

“I can put a fucking game in a system.”

“Never said you couldn’t, but it’s brand-new, I don’t want you scratching it.”

I appreciated how Zach didn’t act like he was treating me differently, even if he was. It made it a little easier to deal with.

He put the disc in and handed me a controller, taking the other and sitting next to me on the couch. The screen flickered to the game, and we both leaned forward, resting our elbows on our knees.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” I said. Smack talk was a must.

“We’ll see about that.”

Our characters appeared and we took off, running through a forest, dodging grenades. I ran into a building, the lights dim and reflecting an eerie glow on the floor. A gunshot sounded and pieces of the wall shattered.

My hands clammed up and my heart raced as more gunshots sounded. My character became immobile because I no longer controlled my fingers. Everything was frozen. My eyes stayed opened but my surroundings went black.

More blood than I’d ever seen tainted the once-clean hallway. My body was drained of all its energy and I glanced down at my leg. Even more blood. The tourniquet was working for now, but I had already lost so much.

“It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” I assured her, but I knew one of us wasn’t going to make it out of there alive.

Another shot.

“Shit!” I heard the TV click off. “Dude!” My arm trembled and my vision cleared. I was back in my living room, staring at Zach who was whiter than a ghost.

“What’s up?” I said because there was no way to explain it.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You started shaking and you were looking right at me, but you weren’t there. You didn’t even hear me.”

“Seriously, it’s nothing,” I said again, wishing he would drop it before Liz walked in.

He gave me that look that said, “You’re full of shit.”

“I’m working on it.” I wasn’t, but the flashbacks weren’t happening quite as often, so there was that.

“I’m sorry,” Zach said, and I looked at him like he was crazy.

“For what?”

“I didn’t think about the game. How it could trigger . . . I’m just sorry.”

“Don’t. I’m so sick and tired of the apologies and everyone treating me like a freaking invalid. I’m still me.”

“You went through a lot of shit. Still, all we know is what you tell us, and you barely tell us anything.”

“Every awful thought you have is right. That’s all you need to know. I refuse to let that day define me. To change who I am. So please, just let me deal with it, so my life can go back to normal.”

Zach opened his mouth then closed it.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think your life will ever be completely normal again? I mean, this will always be a part of you.”

Leave it to Zach to point out the truth I was running from, but would never escape. I hated the gunman for tainting my life and that of those around me. A part of me was happy he was dead. But the other part wished he’d survived, so he would have to live with the memories every miserable day of his life, like I did. Remember the screams, and the pleading. Know the stories of those he killed. Know he ruined lives. And know that he took the one thing away from me that I missed the most: normalcy.

“I hope so.”

Liz walked in and dropped a plate of cookies on the table. “What happened to the game?” she asked.

I looked at Zach, silently urging him to keep it between us.

“It’s skipping. I’m going to have to take it back,” Zach said, and I let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s brand-new—how can they sell a broken game?” Liz, of course, couldn’t let anything go easily.

Zach picked up a cookie. “It happens. No big deal.” He took a bite of the cookie and smiled. “Delicious,” he said, and Liz smiled big.

“Aren’t they? I added a little more vanilla.”

And just like that the conversation turned to baking and Liz was none the wiser.

“You can do this. Just walk.”

Yeah, because it’s that fucking easy. I wanted to scream at the jackass who was egging me on. I didn’t care that he was my physical therapist. Just because he went to school and worked in the field meant shit. He had no idea how hard it actually was to
just
walk.

I’d give him “just walk.” Instead, I sucked in a breath to calm my nerves and continued to stand there.

“Josh, you need to let the fear go.”

“Don’t talk to me about fear. You have no idea.” I couldn’t help myself. How dare this guy stand there and talk to me as if my problems were as simple as pulling a muscle.

“I have no idea, huh? Let me tell you something.” Mike lifted his leg onto the bar I was holding and reached over to the bottom of his pant leg. He pulled his khakis away, revealing a sneaker and a bunch of metal.

“You want to talk about fear? This,” he tapped the metal, “my friend, is the result of a land mine. I was on tour in Iraq. Two days left until I got to go home and my convoy drove right over a mine. Lost my leg, right above the knee. Blew right the fuck off. But I survived. No one in my battalion survived. Just me. So I know fear. I might not have gone through what you did, but I’d say it’s pretty damn close. At least you have a leg to work with.”

If I could’ve tattooed “asshole” to my forehead, I would’ve. “Sorry,” I muttered.

“No, I’m sorry. I usually don’t throw this at people.” Mike lifted his leg off the bar and settled it back down into place, leaving the rest of the room none the wiser as to what was beneath, or not beneath, his pants. “But I can see your fear and your hurt. You remind me of me, and I wish I’d had someone who would’ve thrown reality in my face. It would’ve saved me the year I wasted drowning myself in self-pity.”

I nodded. I had already said enough. There was no reason for me to shove my foot further into my mouth. Instead, I positioned my hands on the bar, took a deep breath, and put my bum leg in front of me. Very slowly, I put weight onto it. Pain shot up my thigh, and I wanted to say fuck it. Throw in the towel and continue my life on my crutches.

Then I looked up and saw Kat waiting for me across the way, head in a word search book, dressed in her Cookie Monster scrubs. We hadn’t as much as uttered a single word to each other besides the normal pleasantries since the incident on the boardwalk the prior weekend.

From the minute I face-planted on my front lawn, I wanted to scoop her up and revisit our past. But I couldn’t even hold myself up. Not that it mattered, because she had someone else. Still, I thought, she’d kissed me. That had to mean something. If Darren meant something to her, she wouldn’t have cheated on him. I had a chance.

I let the weight stay heavy on my leg and gimped to my other and then took another deep breath as I put pressure on it again. Two steps. Three. Sweat beaded on my head, the pain turned my stomach. Kat looked at me, big blue eyes wide in shock, and she clapped her hands together, tucking them under her chin. Four steps. Five.

My gaze met hers, and I finally let the anger and hurt inside of me start to float away. I cocked my lip and winked.

Mike patted my back. “Knew you could do it. Let’s call it a day. Don’t want to over-exert yourself. However, you should try to walk on it at home. Hold onto a counter or have a certain someone help you.” His eyes glanced over to Kat and back to me, a knowing look on his face.

“She’s not exactly talking to me,” I admitted.

“What’d you do?”

I looked across the way, my eyes settling on Kat. The blue scrubs she wore were a direct contrast to her mood. Her lips were set in a straight line, hands folded across her chest. She was still pissed. “What didn’t I do?”

“Guess you better start apologizing. I’ll see you Thursday.”

Mike laughed and walked away. There was nothing funny about it. I glanced over at Kat again, but this time she dropped her head and let her hair fall in front of her face.

Did I really do anything wrong though? She was the one who stuck her tongue in my mouth. She was the one who was seeing somebody. No. I had nothing to apologize for. For once it wasn’t me.

I positioned my crutches under my pits and headed to the exit. I passed her and didn’t stop when her lips parted and it was evident she was about to say something.

She let out a loud puff of air, and I heard her jangling keys behind me. I went to grab for the door, but she reached in front of me, cold skin rubbing against my arm.

“I got it,” she said, and shoved it open, holding it as she turned her nose up at me. The old Kat would’ve stared at the ground, embarrassed. I was kind of proud of her.

I walked out and to the car without a single word.

The worst part about it was I wanted to talk to her. Wanted to share in my small victory. I’d freaking walked and if it weren’t for Darren, I would’ve wrapped my arms around her and insisted we go out and celebrate. Now I was trapped in the car with her cotton candy scent, trying my damndest not to ask her how Darren was doing.

She tapped her hands on the steering wheel and then gripped it tightly. Her head turned in my direction then back to the road. She ran her fingers through her hair.

“What?” I asked, knowing her well enough to see that there was something on her mind.

“Look I know we’re not talking, but can we please acknowledge that you walked today? I mean hello! That’s huge. And I really just want to say . . . I told you so.”

I let out a laugh. “Excuse me?”

“I knew you could do it. You’re just so damn stubborn. You always have been.”

When her eyes caught mine, a smile broke through. Our encounter on the boardwalk vanished, and it was just me and her again. The world was on the outside, where it belonged.

“I am not stubborn.”

“Oh please,” she practically snorted. “May I remind you of epic stubborn moment number twenty-two?”

“Twenty-two!”

“Stubborn people have a lot of stubborn moments, and you my friend, just may take the cake.”

I leaned back into the seat. “Okay give me epic moment number twenty-two.”

“When you insisted you knew a shortcut to the beach even though I told you we were driving in the wrong direction.”

“I got us there, didn’t I?”

Her mouth dropped open and she gave an exaggerated gasp. “After driving into another state!”

I waved my hand like I was shooing away a fly. “A little detour.”

“A little!” Her eyes left the road for a moment and stared at me with disbelief. “We were lost for
two
hours
.”

I leaned back into the seat and crossed my arms over my chest, making sure to bulge my biceps. “Two hours with me—on a list of pros and cons, that’s definitely a pro.”

Her lip quirked and she tried to cover it up by scratching above her mouth.

I reached over and wrapped my fingers around her hand, pulling it away. “I saw you smile.”

The trail of skin from her cheeks to her neck flared red. “I did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Who’s the stubborn one now?” I glanced at her, and in typical Kat fashion she slid her teeth over her pouty lip.

There was so much I missed about Kat. So much. But this back-and-forth banter, I missed that the most.

“Your epic stubborn moment number twenty-two,” I said, and she cocked her eyebrow. “This.” I took her hand back in mine and slid her ring up her finger to reveal our matching tattoos.

She shook her head.

“What?”

“I was determined. There’s a difference.” She pointed her finger at me.” It was your fault.”

“Mine!” I grabbed my chest and laughed.

“You drew it on my finger.”

Kat had been falling apart in front of me because of her mom’s illness. I felt completely helpless. So I did the only thing I could think of—I outlined the infinity symbol on her finger.

My hands fell to my lap and I turned in my seat, making sure not to hit my thigh. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I know. Me neither.”

“Do you miss her?” It was a stupid question. Of course she did. Her mom had been her life. Her rock. The one person who’d never let her down. But just like that day in the back of the Aqua Café when she’d cried in my arms, I didn’t know what else to say.

“All the time. They say it gets easier. It doesn’t. I’ve just gotten better at pushing it to the back of my mind. But there are times when it resurfaces and I find myself lost, on the verge of a meltdown, though the breakdowns are fewer and further between.”

“When my grandfather passed away,” I said, “my sister baked all day every day. It helped her to focus on something else. You used to put those albums together. The photo ones.”

“Used to.”

“But you loved doing it.”

She shrugged. “It’s an expensive hobby, and besides, I ran out of things I want to remember.” I expected sadness in her tone, but she said it so matter-of-factly, like good memories no longer existed for her.

I wanted to fix it. Give her something worth remembering. Find a way to make up for all the bad in her life. She deserved books full of memories, not dark, blank pages.

Then I remembered why we hadn’t been talking earlier. “You have Darren. You mean to tell me there’s nothing worth remembering with him?”

“We’re having a good day. Let’s not ruin it, okay?”

I glanced to my side and caught her eyes for a brief second before she turned them back on the road.

“I—”

“So what else did Mike say?” Kat asked, and this time, I let her change the subject.