Something Like Lightning (27 page)

Kelly smiled at the visual image. Okay, so maybe he could still feel happy. But the rest of the list...

“Hope,” Allison read aloud.

“I’m not going to get better,” Kelly explained. “I’m never going to walk again. I tried a prosthetic leg and it’s not for me.”

“Yeah, but you should still have something to hope for,” Allison said. “Just because you can’t walk, doesn’t mean you have nothing to look forward to.”

“Maybe you should keep reading,” Kelly said.

“Independence. Meaning others need to help you?”

“Yes,” Kelly said. “There are little things I can’t do by myself anymore. If I drop a bunch of pencils, how am I going to pick them up?” “By getting on the ground, just like the rest of us.”

Kelly rolled his eyes. “You don’t get it. Everything is harder now, and I’ve got pride, okay? I try to manage on my own, but sometimes there’s no choice and I need help, even if I don’t want it.”

Allison raised an eyebrow. “Same here. Same with anyone. Listen, I didn’t have you make this list just to shoot it all down. The point isn’t to prove to you that you haven’t lost anything. But you’ll have to do better than this. None of these justify you popping pills.”

This time she wasn’t kidding. He felt like grabbing the pad of paper back from her. Instead he nodded at it. “Keep reading.”

“My dream,” she said. “What’s your dream?”

“To run in the Olympics. And don’t start spewing crap about the Paralympics. Maybe they’re a pale imitation, or hell, maybe they’re harder than the normal kind and more worthy of praise. I don’t care either way, because we’re talking about
my
dream, and that’s not what it was. I was going to be in the Olympics.”

Allison studied him a moment. “I always thought it was bullshit that disabled athletes aren’t allowed to compete in the Olympics. I hope that changes someday, because it smacks of segregation.”

“Yeah,” Kelly said. “It does.”

“If that were to change, would you still want to compete? Or would you only want to win on your own two legs, like in your dream?”

“I don’t want to answer that because it’ll sound petty.”

“It won’t,” Allison said. “There’s nothing wrong with mourning a dream, so long as you don’t let it stop you from finding a new one.” She glanced back down at the list. “What’s this about photography?”

“It was a hobby of mine.”

“And now?”

“I can’t hold the camera still enough. I could use a tripod, but the best photos are those you snap spontaneously. When you see something special, you have to act quickly before it disappears. A steady hand is crucial.”

“You might be more limited now, but you could sit at street-side cafe and keep your eyes open.”

“And be lower than the subject I want to capture? I can still take photos, but without total creative freedom, I’m no longer interested.” “Very well.” Allison looked down at the list again, then back up at him. She did this a few more times and snorted. “Sex appeal? You’ve got to be kidding me. Hold on, I’ll get a mirror, because—don’t take this the wrong way, I’m a happily married woman—but you are ridiculously handsome.”

Kelly couldn’t help smiling. He felt pretty good about his appearance, but he hadn’t said he’d lost his good looks. The problem wasn’t that simple. “I don’t feel okay about my body anymore,” he said. “When I’m nude, I try to hide my amputation.”

Allison waved a hand dismissively. “If anyone out there has a problem with it, send them packing. You’ll soon find someone who doesn’t mind. For some people it’s a huge turn-on.”

“I’m not sure I’d like that either,” Kelly admitted. “I just wish it wasn’t an issue. I never had to think about stuff like that before. I could just be me.”

“But even then you probably had a feature you felt insecure about,” Allison said. “Everyone worries about something. When I was little, I used to wish my hair was straight like the white girls. And lately I’ve been hitting the gym to make sure this booty keeps its bounce.”

Kelly was surprised by this confession. Allison seemed in good shape to him.

“My husband keeps saying how fine I look,” she continued, “and that flabby or firm, he’ll still love my butt and the rest of me. Regardless, I keep looking in the mirror and driving myself crazy over it.”

“I used to worry about my ass hair,” Kelly confessed, mostly just to comfort her. “I even tried shaving it once and got such bad razor burn that I couldn’t sit for days. At least you don’t have to worry about that.” “That’s what you think,” she said with a wink. “You see my point? Everyone worries about something, and most likely, that hang-up doesn’t even matter to other people. Now you’re worried about your amputation instead of your hairy crack. Believe me, the older you get, the longer that worry list becomes.”

Kelly laughed. “Okay, fine. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Allison smiled back down at the list. Then her face grew more serious. Kelly was glad, because it matched just how twisted up his stomach felt, even before she spoke the name.

“William.”

“Yeah,” Kelly said, his voice hoarse.

“Tell me about him.”

Oh boy. Where to even begin? Dancing around the truth seemed pointless. “How do you feel about gay people?”

Allison leaned back and exhaled. “How can I put this?” After a moment’s thought, she continued. “You know when you first tell someone you’re gay, and assuming they aren’t a homophobic nitwit, they usually mention some other gay person they know? No matter how random it is, they’ll mention a distant cousin, a family friend, the local butcher, or even some character on TV. And you know they mean well, but you’re not sure how to react, because it’s not like all gay people know each other. Am I right?”

Kelly laughed. “How do you know all that? Are you—?”

“No,” Allison said. “My best friend is gay. Oh great, now I sound like everyone else! I was trying to prove I’m cool by flaunting my insider knowledge. The thing is, my best friend is more like a significant other. I might already be married to a straight man, but nobody—and I mean nobody—comes between me and my gay husband!”

Kelly grinned. “Well, I don’t have a husband, but my boyfriend just happens to be gay.”

“William? Tell me about him.”

Kelly did, starting at the beginning. He smiled through most of the story. Then he reached the morning of the accident and hesitated, but Allison’s expression was open, so he kept talking. As soon as he reached waking up to discover he’d lost a leg, he stopped, because he knew how Allison would react.

“William didn’t mean to cause the accident,” he said. “He didn’t want to hurt me. It’s not his fault.”

Allison blinked. “Then whose fault is it?”

Kelly opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Allison studied him a moment before a gentle knock at the door drew their attention. She glanced at the watch on her wrist and sighed. “Out of time. I hate when that happens. One more question, the very same one I asked at the beginning of the hour. How are you feeling?”

Kelly considered the question and answered honestly. “Better.” Allison nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. I’d love to talk to you again. If you’re up for it.”

“Yes,” Kelly said instantly. “Definitely.”

“Good. Let’s go speak with your mom.”

His stomach sank as they stood and headed for the waiting room. He shouldn’t be surprised. Allison would confer with his mother now, giving her a full report of his personal thoughts and feelings. That was the deal. His parents wanted to know what was wrong with him, and Allison’s job was to figure it out and tell them. Already they were talking together.

“—another appointment this time next week.” Allison was saying as she flipped open a book on her desk. “A little later actually, if that works for you. Four in the afternoon?”

“Yes,” Laisha responded, seeming uncertain. “That would be fine.” “Great!” Allison smiled at Kelly. “I’m looking forward to it. See you then!”

His mother didn’t move. “I thought we would have time to talk.” “Oh!” Allison said. “You want an appointment for yourself?”

“I mean now,” Laisha said. “About all of this. About Kelly and the pills.”

“He’s doing fine,” Allison said. “Sometimes it helps to talk things through, especially with the knowledge that anything you say will remain confidential.”

“I’m his mother.”

Allison nodded. “Yes, but there are some things we don’t feel comfortable telling our parents. Otherwise he would have done so already. Maybe in some future session, if Kelly is okay with it, we can all sit down together. For the time being, I’d rather work with him alone. You have a wonderful son, Mrs. Phillips. We all wander off the path sometimes. Maybe he and I can figure out if it was the right path to begin with.”

“Okay,” his mother said, not sounding convinced. “Well... Thank you for your time.”

They were at the car before his mother tsked and shook her head. “I don’t know. All I wanted was—”

“Mom,” Kelly interrupted. “It helped. Seriously.”

She looked him over, her features relaxing somewhat. “I suppose that’s all that matters.”

They huddled together at the bus stop, the plastic roof above their heads too narrow to completely shield them from the drizzle. The weather was slightly chilly, but Kelly didn’t mind, since it allowed him to nestle up to William for warmth. The evening had been nice. He’d given a lot of thought to the list he had made for Allison, and how much of what he thought lost was still right there. With that in mind, he’d invited William out for dinner and a movie. And they were getting along, proving that nothing between them was permanently damaged. A little bruised maybe, but they could heal.

As enjoyable as cuddling against William was, Kelly was eager to get home and warm up through more intimate activities. “I don’t think the bus is coming,” he said.

William glanced down the street. “I think you’re right. It’s what— twenty minutes late now?”

“When’s the next one?” Kelly asked.

William twisted to check the sign posted behind them. “Ugh. Another forty minutes.”

“Makes me miss driving.”

William didn’t respond.

“Let’s call my parents,” Kelly said. “It’s getting cold.”

“We could walk,” William said. “Start heading the right direction but stay on the bus route. That will warm us up, and we can catch the next bus about halfway.”

“Crutches and the rain,” Kelly chided. “Not the best combination. Unless you want to carry me. No, I’ll call home.” He reached for his phone.

“Wait,” William said, sounding tense. “It’s been a nice night.” Meaning that being around Kelly’s family would ruin it for him. He didn’t take it personally. Rarely a day passed that someone in his family didn’t make a slight at William’s expense. Kelly was tired of that. Maybe they should have one big family session with Allison. Regardless... “One call, a quick car ride, and we’ll be alone in my room.”

William perked up. “I’ll call my mom! She can give us a ride.” Kelly’s stomach filled with dread. So maybe he understood William’s reluctance. Mrs. Townson behaved as if Kelly had stolen her son away. “We
could
call her,” he said carefully, “but it doesn’t make sense for her to drive us to my house before returning to her own. That’s an extra trip my parents won’t have to make.”

“So let’s stay at my place,” William suggested.

Kelly searched for an excuse not to, his jaw working. He had promised himself he wouldn’t argue tonight, but he hated the idea of seeing Mrs. Townson’s pursed lips, or watching her fawn over William, intruding on their personal time together.

“We can wait for the next bus,” he said at last.

“I don’t want to,” William said. “I like the idea of being in my own room.”

“Then maybe we should each call our parents and go our separate ways,” Kelly snapped. He took a deep breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s okay,” William said, not sounding angry. “We can’t always spend so much time together.”

Kelly glanced over at him. Something in his tone suggested this comment wasn’t a general observation. “What do you mean?”

“I got a job,” William said. “Part time, after school.”

“Where?” Kelly asked, hating the panic in his voice.

“That juice place at the mall.”

“Why would you do that?”

“For the money. Just think of the presents I’ll be able to buy you.”

All Kelly could think of was the additional time they would spend apart. Lately William had been waking up earlier than normal to go swimming. When Kelly opened his eyes in the morning, the bed next to him was already empty. Now the only hours they would spend together would be in school—when they couldn’t really be intimate—and whatever meager time remained before bed. How was that a relationship?

William didn’t appear apologetic, or worried about missing anything. He didn’t even seem interested in discussing it further. Instead he stared down the road, but he was no longer searching for a bus. His eyes were unfocused, and he wasn’t even looking in the right direction. Kelly watched him with a sinking sensation. That list he’d made for Allison? He felt certain he’d got one thing right. Somehow, he had lost William.

“So he got a job,” Allison said. “Big whoop. You’ll still have weekends together, and really, not many people your age share a bed every night with the person they love. You’re spending more time together than any of your peers.”

Kelly shook his head. “I trust my instincts. William is distancing himself from me on purpose. I don’t blame him. Lately I’m so damn pissy.”

Allison didn’t argue the point. Instead her brow furrowed as she looked over her notes. She hadn’t taken them while he talked, meaning she must have written down her observations after their previous session. He wondered—if he asked—whether he would be allowed to read them or not. “I’m glad we’re talking about William,” she said. “Let’s go back to the accident. Last time you said it wasn’t William’s fault.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Okay. Do you feel like the accident was anyone’s fault?”

Kelly nodded. He’d thought about this many times. “I pushed him,” Kelly said. “Not just that morning in the car, but even before then. There’s this part of me that feels vulnerable, and my reaction is to lash out. Well, I kept lashing out at William until he couldn’t take it anymore.”