by Kaitlin Ward
“Whatever. There’s nothing great or special about you, Amelia, but I guess if you can leverage clumsiness into attention from guys way out of your league like Liam, good for you.”
She’s jealous, I realize, completely taken aback. Clarissa is beautiful and popular, but she wants people to notice her the way they’ve noticed me ever since my accident.
“Liam’s not out of her league,” says a voice behind me. Grace. “What is your problem, Clarissa?”
“Man stealers are my problem,” Clarissa snarls. “Get out of my face, both of you.”
And she walks away. I’m totally bewildered.
“She wasn’t dating Liam, was she?” I ask, starting back toward the bleachers.
Grace shrugs. “Not that I know of? Maybe she just wanted to. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I initiated the conversation, so I can’t really be upset about the outcome.”
But I am upset, actually. It hurts to have someone dislike you the way Clarissa clearly dislikes me. I don’t do anything to set myself up for hatred like that, and it feels bad. I’m as gossipy as the next person, and there are people I just don’t like for whatever reason, but to make it so obvious to their face when there’s no merit for your dislike? It’s cruel.
“I don’t know what I did to her.”
Grace looks at me with sympathy. “You didn’t do anything. Whatever her problem is with you, it’s … well, her problem. You’re great, okay? I know you don’t need me to tell you that, but you are.”
“So are you,” I tell her, with a sad smile.
We’re nearly back to our seats, but she stops me with a hand on my arm. Her mouth opens and closes, but she says nothing. Instead, she hugs me tight. Sometimes a gesture says more than words can, and hers reminds me that it doesn’t matter what Clarissa thinks about me, because I have friends who think I’m worth a whole lot, and that’s what matters.
A screaming cheer rises from the stands. I turn toward the field just in time to see the game end, and with our team winning by one goal.
“What happened?” I ask.
Grace shakes her head. “I didn’t see. But it looks like … maybe Liam scored a goal?”
Based on the way the rest of the team is piling all over him, I think she’s right. My heart sinks. I should not have missed this important moment, even if I didn’t miss it on purpose. Liam has no one else here to watch him.
And the whole time his teammates are cheering and tackling him, he’s staring straight at me.
* * *
I find Liam after everyone’s gotten settled down postgame. As usual, he says no to coming to dinner with my family, not that I expected any different. Even when he comes to my house, he doesn’t seem entirely comfortable with meals where the whole family gathers. I can only assume it’s to do with the fact that his father barely participates in his life, but anytime we remotely circle the topic of his home life, he changes the subject.
My parents take Hunter to the restaurant in their car, with Sky and me promising to follow in a few minutes in ours. Sky walks Grace back to her dorm, giving me a little bit of time with Liam. He and I sit on the hood of my car in the nearly empty school parking lot. Some dorm students are playing Frisbee by the light of the streetlamps in the lower lot, and they’re taking it much more seriously than I ever would.
“I’m sorry I missed your last goal,” I say. I’ve already said it, and he’s already forgiven me, but I feel guilty about it still.
“Amelia.” My name is a sigh. “You’ve seen nearly every goal I’ve made in my life. Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have known Grace was going to distract you at the exact moment I scored.”
Our hands are intertwined. I squeeze his. “I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“Yeah?” He grins. “I look forward to that.”
“You should.” I slip down off the hood of my car, pull him with me so that we never really stop being wrapped up in each other. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to dinner with us?”
I ask him the question and then I kiss him so he can’t answer right away.
It doesn’t work. “I’m sure,” he says, but he doesn’t really stop kissing me to say it.
“Fine,” I sigh. “But I’m proud of you and eventually, I’m going to get you to celebrate your achievements.”
He laughs. “Stranger things have happened, I’m sure.”
Sky approaches, her footsteps echoing against the pavement. I look up at Liam and smile. “Last chance,” I tell him.
His smile is broad as he kisses me one more time. “Good try.”
Sky gets into the driver’s seat, so I reluctantly leave Liam’s side.
“Couldn’t get him to come with us, huh?” Sky says, backing slowly out of the parking spot.
“No.” I frown. I want to enjoy the time I have right now with Sky, be fully here and in the moment. We don’t have these times as much anymore and I miss it. But I’m still thinking about Liam and guilty I missed his goal, and I kind of hate leaving him here. Alone in the parking lot. Always alone. He won the game tonight and this is all he gets.
It doesn’t seem fair.
One of my favorite November traditions is the Maple Hill craft fair at the town hall. Usually I go with Mom and Sky, but today Sky has plans with Hunter instead.
“It’s his first day of freedom,” she told me this morning when I called about what time she would come over. “No more soccer unless he plays in college.”
I feigned nonchalance about this because it embarrassed me that I hadn’t considered this scenario. This is tradition. I thought that meant you got to assume.
But when I texted Grace, a little poutingly, to see what she was up to today, she coerced Tera into borrowing her mom’s car and driving out. Now the three of us and my mom are all at the town hall, which greets us with the scent of doughnuts and other baked goods. The upstairs of the building is a basketball court, usually lined with bleachers, though those have been taken out for today’s festivities. There’s a stage at the back where kids from the elementary school (including me, when I was younger) perform concerts and plays. This is also where people come to vote on election days. Downstairs there are bathrooms, a kitchen, and a big area filled with tables, which gets used for a lot of functions. The craft fair has taken over both upstairs and down. People with tables are selling jams and wood-carved items and honey and soap and hand towels and pot holders and mailboxes and all manner of things.
“This is wild,” Grace says approvingly. “I won’t even be able to describe this to my parents.”
The three of us take a selfie near the door, getting thoroughly in the way of anyone who wants to pass by.
“Girls,” says Mom in her exasperated tone. “Get out of everyone’s way, and I will take a picture for you. It’s so much easier.”
I give her my phone, and the three of us pose together while she snaps pictures.
“Ooh, Amelia,” she says, phone still raised. “You’re getting texts from a boy.”
She knows exactly which boy it is, but she also loves embarrassing me. “Oh my God, Mom, give it back.”
As I assumed, it’s Liam, asking what I’m up to today.
At the craft fair with my mom & grace & tera, I text back.
Not Sky?
That hits me in a sore spot, so all I say is, No.
“I want this,” says Grace. She’s running her fingers over a towel with a cute reindeer and a knitted loop at the top with a button so you can hang it from your stove.
“Get it! They’re like two dollars usually.” I join her at the display. There are always tons of these, and they’re always very cute.
“And where, exactly, do I put this in my dorm room?”
“Hang it from your doorknob,” Tera suggests.
“You know what, that’s kind of brilliant.” Grace hands the vendor her cash, and we move along. While Grace and Tera look at some hand-knitted mittens, I stop by the booth where they make bowls and other dec
orative items out of wood scraps. They’re so expensive but so beautiful, and they make me think of my necklace. It might not be as complex as these giant bowls, but I loved it so much and I loved that Dad and Hunter made it together and I just … want it back.
“Hey,” says a voice at my ear. I turn, and Liam’s standing there.
“Oh, hey.” It doesn’t sound enthusiastic enough, but I wasn’t expecting to see him here.
He dips his head and kisses me, and again, I’m not expecting it so I just stand there like a lifeless blob of flesh. He pulls away.
“Should I not have done that here?” he asks, frowning, and I feel the curious eyes of my friends upon us.
“No, I— Of course you should. I just totally didn’t expect to see you here.” I smile at him warmly and take his hand. “But I’m glad.”
It isn’t a lie, but it kind of feels like one. I’m glad to see him and his disarming smile, but I also feel weird because I’m a little mad at Sky for abandoning me in favor of Hunter, and now suddenly my boyfriend’s here pulling my attention away from the friends who actually had time for me today.
“What’re you interested in here?” Liam asks, gesturing to the table of wooden decorative items.
“Oh, it’s all too expensive. Beautiful though, right? I was just thinking about the necklace I lost when I had my accident.” I clutch at the nothing around my neck again. “I miss it.”
“I remember that necklace,” he says, tracing my throat with a fingertip. “I’m sorry you lost it.”
“Me too. It meant a lot to me. It’s stupid.”
He doesn’t say anything, but he looks sympathetic. I mean, what is he supposed to say, really.
“Hey Amelia, what do you think?” Grace interrupts, modeling a knitted hat. Behind her, Tera holds up hands encased in mittens that have bells sewn into the backs.
“Well, the hat is great, but the mittens are a must-have,” I say, laughing.
“Totally agree,” says Tera, and she does actually buy them. “By the way,” she adds, close to my ear, “Liam’s definitely here because he’s jealous of Grace.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I tell her, but she rolls her eyes and tugs me away. “We’ll be right back, going to the bathroom,” I say to Grace.
Downstairs, when we’re closed behind the heavy wooden door of the ladies bathroom, Tera peers under the stall doors for feet and then says, “It’s not a bad thing for him to have a little new-boyfriend jealousy, you know.”
“Yeah, but why of Grace?” My stomach is in knots because I love Tera, but I don’t need her to know about my crush.
“Because Grace is beautiful, and Grace always looks at you like she wants to kiss you.”
I scoff. “She does not.”
Tera looks nervous. “Don’t tell her I said that, okay? She’d kill me. But yeah, she absolutely does.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so what I say is, “I actually kind of do have to go to the bathroom,” and close myself into a stall.
If Grace actually did like me, I don’t know what I’d do. But I think Tera’s wrong about this. She tends to see romance in places where it doesn’t exist, and there’s no way Grace could possibly be interested in me.
But I think Tera is right that Liam’s feeling a little jealous. And if I’m being completely honest, I like it.
When we’re done at the craft fair, Grace and Tera head back to St. Elm, and Liam comes over to my house. By some miracle of miracles, he agrees to stay for dinner. This may be largely thanks to my dad, who insists. Well, demands, more like. My parents are both majorly bossy people, and my dad wants to get to know Liam better if he’s going to be a fixture in our lives, which, of course, I hope he is. So Dad is going to get to know him whether Liam likes it or not.
Dinner is a roast Mom made in the Crock-Pot and it’s delicious. Dad spends the whole meal asking Liam a million questions about himself and dishing out some unnecessary but very dad-like teasing about Maple Hill’s superiority over Hen Falls. Liam takes it all in stride, which is a relief because if I were him, I would be thoroughly unamused by this grill session. He doesn’t seem upset, though. He almost seems to enjoy being included in my family like this.
“When am I going to meet your dad?” I ask Liam when we wander outside afterward, just the two of us. It’s chilly out after dark, and I’m wearing a puffy jacket, but he doesn’t seem too cold in just a St. Elm soccer hoodie.
“Oh, eventually,” he says with a wry smile. “But I’m warning you now, you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
“I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.”
He shrugs, and it isn’t an irritated gesture, but I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. I take his hand, and we just walk. Alone in the peace and quiet of the evening.
Our yard is quite large, but a lot of it is taken up by Dad’s garage, which can fit two trucks inside it, plus all his tools and filters and parts and supplies. After we’re done circling, we start up the road a little bit.
“Are you and Sky fighting?” he asks.
“No.” I push my glasses higher on my nose. “Why do you ask?”
“You told me yesterday she always goes to the craft fair with you.”
“Oh. Yeah. She decided to hang out with Hunter instead. It’s fine. It’s what happens, you know? New boyfriends change things, and we’ll adjust.” I don’t want Liam to know how much it bothers me, because he’s my new boyfriend, and we already started things out by talking about my problems—bonding over the suspicious nature of my accident. That’s already a thing that’s taking up so much of my mental energy that I don’t need to also complain to him about feeling abandoned in favor of my brother by my best friend. Liam will get tired of me so fast if all I do is complain about my entire life.
“But she’s your best friend,” he says. “She shouldn’t abandon you like that.”
“I guess not.”
“You don’t really want to talk about it, huh?”
I shake my head.
He lets go of my hand and winds his arm around my waist instead. “Well, I’m here for you. When you do want to.”
I smile up at him. “You are good at that, aren’t you?”
His eyes glint with an indefinable emotion in the fading light of dusk. “With you I am.”
We walk in silence for a couple of minutes, which I find peaceful but Liam seems to find uncomfortable.
“You must be ready to have that cast off,” he says. “Tuesday, right?”
“Yep.” I glance down at the stupid, itchy thing. “And then everyone can stop asking me about it all the time.”
“Including me.”
I laugh. “I don’t mind it so much when you ask. You don’t ask me like you think I’m going to break, but more like … you’re curious about the healing process.”
“That’s pretty accurate. I mean, don’t you find the process interesting? You got so lucky, and all the reminders that something happened to you are slowly healing themselves away.”
“That’s an interesting way to view healing.” I pause to think about it for a few seconds. “I think I like it.”
We’re almost back to my house, and my heart sinks because Mr. Omerton is on his front porch, calling us over.
“Who’s that?” Liam asks quietly.
“Creepy neighbor,” I mutter. “Let’s just go over there real quick.”
We stand on his front porch, not near him.
“Hi, Mr. Omerton,” I say politely. “You need something?”
“No, just sitting out here and saw you walk by.” He’s swaying gently on a porch swing, and I don’t know why but it gives me a full-body shudder of disgust. “You don’t seem to notice me usually, when you’re out jogging.”
“Oh, I don’t? I’m always wearing headphones, so I’m pretty oblivious to my surroundings, I guess.”
“Doesn’t seem like a great idea, to be oblivious,” he says.
“No, probably not. Anyway, my boyfriend and I ne
ed to get back inside; it was nice talking with you.”
I don’t introduce Liam because like hell am I going to give this man any information about my life.
“You too, Amelia. Try to pay more attention when you’re jogging, would you? Smile at me every now and then.”
I don’t say anything in response, just keep my face arranged very definitely not in a smile and drag Liam away.
“That was … odd,” Liam says once we’re out of earshot.
“That’s one word to describe it. Don’t look back. Spoiler alert: He’ll still be watching.”
Liam frowns. “Is that guy on your list of suspicious people? If not, he should be.”
“Oh yeah. He’s at the top.”
“Good. Well, not good, but you know what I mean.”
We’re on my porch now, and I risk a casual glance in Mr. Omerton’s direction. Still watching, as predicted.
“Yeah,” I say, zipping my coat tighter to my chin. “I do.”
Tuesday is the long-awaited day: my cast removal. Mom picks me up from school and brings me to the hospital, and Aunt Jenna comes, too, so she can decode anything the doctor says that we don’t understand. I’m so excited, I can’t hold still in the waiting room, which makes Aunt Jenna laugh.
“You’re acting like a ten-year-old,” she says.
“Have you ever had a cast? This thing weighs thirty pounds; I’m beyond ready to be rid of it.”
“Thirty pounds? That seems excessive. We should talk to someone about that.”
I roll my eyes at her, and she laughs again, but fortunately I’m called in before she can tease me more. After a last X-ray to make sure my arm looks good, the doctor removes the cast. My arm is disgusting. There’s no sugarcoating it. My skin is flaky and pale and smelly. It doesn’t really hurt, but my muscles are weak and bending my wrist takes a lot of effort. The doctor wants to refer me to a physical therapist, but Aunt Jenna promises she’ll work with me.
“You’re already seeing enough doctors,” she says as the three of us leave the hospital. “No sense sending you to a PT when your aunt is one and can do it at home for free.”