by A. J. Pine
“I’m only trying to help calm her down.”
I whirl around to see who is interrupting my much-needed tirade. Shit.
Adam stares at me with worry in his dark eyes. And anger.
Ashley steps back toward Bryan, and I turn to see him put his arm around her. He’s officially done trying to hide anything from me.
“We’re leaving,” Bryan says. And then, in perfect fanboy fashion, he adds, “Heard about the knee, man. Hope to see you on the court in a couple weeks.”
Something’s off in Bryan’s tone. He is a fan. I haven’t forgotten the games we attended together. But his words seem forced.
My gaze shifts to Adam, who does not return Bryan’s equally forced smile. Adam hides nothing in his expression. Not today.
“Thanks,” he says dryly.
“Good-bye, Jess.” Ashley’s voice breaks, but I say nothing. I won’t give in to my knee-jerk reaction to comfort her. Where was she when I needed comfort? She was right where she is now, doing what she should have done for me for Bryan instead. That realization keeps my mouth shut, keeps me rooted in place. Alone.
Except I’m not. Adam could have walked right by us, but he’s here. He stayed with me. For me.
He doesn’t break eye contact with Bryan. When Ashley pulls him away, I’m left standing there, exposed, exhausted, and defeated.
Adam takes a tentative step toward me, and I don’t move. He doesn’t say anything. What he does is so unexpected I don’t have a chance to object. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in to a strong, protective hug. I should pull away, but I’m too tired to do anything other than rest my head and arms on his chest and let him hold me for however long he will.
With every shuddering exhale, the anger and hurt melts away. The tears never come. My body relaxes into his, and my only thought is to keep breathing.
I don’t know how long we stand there, but it’s me who pulls away.
“Hey,” I say, my voice ragged and spent. For the first time since this whole scene began, I see him. “No crutches.”
Though it shouldn’t, his smile erases a trace of the emotional tumult that took over the moment I saw Bryan. That tiny trace opens a spot for my mind to wonder what it would be like for him to really see me. But I shake off the thought as quickly as it comes. Wanting someone is one thing. I can’t afford the luxury of hoping to be wanted back.
“Three days,” he says. “That’s all they gave me. After this morning’s session, Tracy cut me off.” He looks down for a second, studying those green Chucks. When his eyes meet mine again, his gaze softens. “I was surprised not to see you there, at the hospital.”
I bite back a smile, trying to ignore his effect on me.
“I only intern during the week. Studying happens on Saturdays.” I don’t mention the time I did spend at the hospital this afternoon. “That sounded less lame in my head, by the way. But that’s pretty much my life. If I’m not in class, I’m interning or studying.”
Adam laughs. “A dedicated student. I like it.”
The rush of adrenaline leaves, and the early night air sends a chill through my body. I shove my hands back in my pockets.
“Are you coming or going?” he asks, nodding toward Yu’s.
“Grabbing some takeout and heading home. Do you live around here?”
I feel like I would have seen him around if he does. It’s not like I wouldn’t have recognized him before officially meeting him.
“No. My car’s back at the end of the block. I was heading to the bookstore for a text that got added to a syllabus.”
I start backing toward the restaurant entrance, not wanting to keep him any longer.
“I’ll let you go, then,” I say. “And thanks, for, you know.”
Adam hasn’t asked about any of what just happened, and it makes me appreciate him showing up even more.
“You’re welcome.” He looks down, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, I haven’t eaten yet. I hear this place is pretty good. Can I join you?”
I look inside and then back at Adam.
“I don’t mind. But no tables. It’s takeout only.”
“Oh.” His cheeks redden just a little, and I can’t believe I’ve just embarrassed the unflappable Adam Carson. I find the words leaving my mouth before I can stop myself.
“I live around the corner. If you really want to try the magic of Yu’s, you can eat at my place. I have a big exam on Monday, so I need to get back to studying, but a girl’s gotta eat.”
He shoves his hands in his front pockets.
“Are you sure?”
No. I’m not, I want to say, because being around you makes me smile. And that makes me hope for things I shouldn’t.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
He pulls a twenty out of his pocket and hands it to me.
“I’m going to hit the bookstore, and then I’ll be right back. Whatever you’re ordering, get double. And it’s on me. The least I can do for you buying me shitty coffee with free refills.”
He presses the bill into my hand and heads toward the bookstore. His limp slows him down, the pain of three days post-surgery evident in his gait. The tension in his shoulders reveals the only evidence of the weight he carries too. When I catch myself staring several seconds too long, I head inside to order . . . and panic.
Do I get twice what I usually get? What if Adam hates orange chicken? He could be the one guy. I shake my head, wake myself from this stupid daydream. It shouldn’t matter what he wants, so to silence my thoughts, I do what he suggested in the first place and double what I usually get.
Ten minutes later, when I look at the completed order, I’m positive it is not enough to feed me and a six-foot-tall twentysomething athlete. As I contemplate adding more food, I hear his voice behind me.
“Yeah, that is definitely not going to be enough.”
I turn around, laughing.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. What else do you want?”
“Do you like egg rolls?”
I roll my eyes. How could I not like egg rolls?
“Crab Rangoon?”
I crinkle my nose. I think I’m the only one on the planet who doesn’t like crab Rangoon.
“Okay. We nix the crab Rangoon. How about fried rice?”
“White. Goes better with the orange chicken.”
The nice man behind the counter watches our indecisive banter. Adam looks to him.
“One large chicken fried rice.” Then he looks at me. “Should I get another one for you?”
I’m cracking up now thinking what it must have been like for this boy’s family to feed him when he was growing up. And though it’s been minutes since it happened, Adam’s presence makes the knot in my stomach loosen. It’s almost as if Bryan and Ashley were never here.
When all the food is packed and ready to go, I grab what looks like a shopping bag from the counter.
“Need any help?” Adam asks, though I know his carrying any extra weight will hinder his walking.
“No,” I answer, mock scolding him for asking. “In fact, give me your book. I’m carrying that too.”
I grab the plastic bag from his hand.
“Shit, this is heavy. What textbook is it?”
“Educational Psychology. I saved ten bucks buying it used, but the used copy is old-school hardcover. Those pack on the pounds.”
“No kidding. Well, I’m only a couple minutes away. You know you shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy, right?”
“Sure thing, boss.” He pushes the door open for me.
We step outside, and the wind sends my hair right across my eyes. With a bag in each hand, I stand there and try to blow it free from the mask it has created.
“Here,” Adam says, combing away the strands with his fingers. “You know, I’ve never seen your hair down before. I like it.”
My cheeks burn. I’m not used to compliments, at least not from boys who are sober.
“Yeah, right. I’m sure it’s quite the tangled brown ne
st right now.”
He tucks my overgrown bangs behind my ear, and I tell myself the shiver traveling from my neck to my toes is from the bite of the autumn wind.
He takes a step back. “A simple thank-you would suffice.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
With a self-satisfied grin, he starts walking again. Even with the two bags I’m carrying, it’s easy to keep up with his slow pace. I pass him up when we get to the corner, enough so I can lead him in the direction of my building, enough to allow myself the tiniest of smiles.
6
“Isn’t this, like, illegal?”
Adam looks at me. He’s in mid-bite of an egg roll. I look at Zoe.
“Eating Chinese food?” I ask.
Adam sprawls on the couch, his knee propped on a pillow. I’m on the leather chair, and Zoe scavenges through the array of food cartons lining the breakfast bar.
“No,” she says. “Not eating Chinese food.”
She watches the piece of orange chicken balanced precariously between her uncooperative chopsticks. Zoe leans in for the kill, but it’s too late. The chicken drops to her plate with an audible splat.
After a growl of frustration she says, “I mean, Jess said she’s your intern/therapist/whatever. Are you guys, like, allowed to hang out?”
Adam looks at me, and his brows raise.
“Shit,” he says, a hint of alarm in his voice. “Can this get you in trouble, me being here?”
I didn’t think about this. When I was placed for my internship, I had to sign a bunch of forms, and Tracy gave me a binder of literature to take home, but it never crossed my mind I would have anything to do with any patients outside the lab. Plus, I’m an undergrad, not even in PT school yet. We’re just two students hanging out, right?
“Hmmm,” I say. “I’m actually not sure. Hang on a sec.”
For the moment, I’m calm as I head into my room to grab the binder.
I plop back down on the chair and start leafing through the pages.
“APTA ethics,” I mumble as I scan the pages.
“What’s that?” Adam asks.
“APTA—American Physical Therapy Association. It’s their code of ethics.”
I’m still scanning pages when I find it.
“Here it is. Principle Four is all about integrity.”
I start reading, but no sound comes from me as I mouth the words. There’s no way I’m reading this in front of Adam, because then he’s going to think what I’m reading somehow has something to do with what’s only a chance meeting of two people deciding to eat food together. Nope. Not reading it.
Zoe senses my hesitation because before I realize she’s left the breakfast bar, she is standing behind me with one arm stretched over my shoulder. Snatching the binder from my hand, she reads aloud.
“Principle Four-E . . .”
I whip around to face her, up on my knees.
“Zoe, don’t. It’s fine. Nothing we are doing violates any principles of integrity. Plus, I’m not an actual therapist. That book doesn’t officially apply to me yet. Tracy probably gave it to me for supplementary reading. I do love to read.”
Zoe ignores my word vomit and nervous laughter, backs out of reach, and smiles, flashing her Superman barbell at me as she sticks out her tongue. I plead with my eyes, already mortified.
“Come on, Jess. How bad can it be?” His voice comes from behind me.
I keep my eyes trained on Zoe but listen as Adam continues.
“Just put my mind at ease, Jess. You’re good at what you do, at the lab, and I don’t want to mess things up for you.”
I don’t turn to face him. If Zoe’s going to read, I’m not going to look at him while she does. Instead, I slouch down and lean my face awkwardly against the back of the chair.
“Really only two subheadings interest me,” she starts. “4E: Physical therapists shall not engage in any sexual relationship with any of their patients/clients, supervisees, or students. 4D: Physical therapists shall not harass anyone verbally, physically, emotionally, or sexually. Hmmm.”
Zoe purses her lips, looking from me to Adam.
“Unless you consider her making you eat with chopsticks harassment, I don’t think I’ve seen you guys do any of the other stuff yet, so it looks like we are all good. Carry on.”
The thing is, for the twenty minutes Adam was here before Zoe got home, it didn’t seem weird. I thought it would, but he’s laid-back enough to counteract how high-strung I usually am. Plus, I think my run-in with Bryan and Ashley wore down my defenses. I didn’t have any of my normal freak-out left. But now the whole sexual scenario is out there, though it would never go there with him, even if it were allowable.
The easiness is gone, and I feel the tension of the strings that wind me so tight.
“Jess?” I hear the smile in his voice.
My face still lies buried in the plush leather of the chair’s backrest.
“Yeah?” My voice is muffled, but I think he can hear me.
“Jess, turn around.”
Only because I fear my burning cheek will stick to the leather if I stay, I turn back to a sitting position. Because I’m the only one who seems bothered by any of this, I guess it’s my job to clear the air.
“Just so you know,” I say, not quite looking him in the eye, “I never thought there was anything wrong with us having dinner because I wasn’t thinking about any of . . .” I wave my hand back toward Zoe. “. . . that.”
“I know. Neither was I.”
I should be relieved by his matter-of-fact tone. But that damn hope creeps in again.
“But after she read all that, it’s weird now, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head.
“We’re having dinner. Just me, you, and I guess now Zoe too.”
I look back at her, and she’s emptying the contents of one of the containers onto her plate. Zoe perches herself on the wide arm of my chair.
“You guys don’t mind, do you?” she asks, mouth full of the food she certainly doesn’t mind eating.
“No. Of course not,” I say. Part of me is comforted to have the boundaries of what’s stated in the binder in addition to having Zoe here as a buffer.
“Good! Because it’s also time for the Salvatore brothers.”
“Nope. Uh-uh. I have a bio exam Monday. I need to study.”
She looks toward the couch. “Adam, can you tell me what day it is?”
Playing along, Adam pulls his phone out of his pocket as if he’s checking the date.
“I’m pretty sure it’s Saturday. Yep. That’s what it says here. Saturday.”
He faces the phone toward us, as if I need proof. I roll my eyes and beat my head against the soft chair.
Zoe elbows my shoulder.
“Looks like you’re done studying, friend. You’ve got all day tomorrow.”
She slides into the chair next to me and turns on the TV. It’s a cozy chair, but it’s built for one.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” she says.
After a few clicks of the remote, Netflix appears on the screen.
“Apparently, you can stream Netflix through a game console, so I stole my brother’s PS3 until we get through all the seasons Netflix has to offer us.”
“You have a brother?” I ask.
Adam starts laughing.
“You didn’t know your roommate had a brother?”
No, I didn’t. And she doesn’t know I have a sister ten years older than I am, with the perfect husband and perfect three kids. I’ve been so good at keeping my distance, and while I’m happy Zoe and I are becoming friends, I’m not ready to close the entire gap between us. I guess siblings are a good place to start.
“We just met at the beginning of the month,” Zoe offers in my defense, though I sense she is a bit put off by this. “Still getting to know each other. And yes. I have a brother. Two, actually. One here and one still at home in high school.”
Adam straightens
to a sitting position.
“Fair enough. Now, someone is going to tell me who the Salvatore brothers are, and one of you needs to come sit on the couch. I feel like a dick for hogging it.”
I elbow Zoe in the thigh. After what she read from my code of ethics, I’m not going to be the one to move next to him on the couch. She takes the hint and ambles over to the corner opposite me.
Adam doesn’t look nearly as comfortable, and I realize he could have said he was going to head home now that the food is pretty much gone, but he’s not moving any further than the far end of the couch, his legs outstretched in front of him. I smile, not at anyone or anything. I just smile.
Zoe explains.
“The Salvatore brothers are the sometimes amiable/sometimes warring brothers who are the love interests in the show The Vampire Diaries. I think we can only claim having watched five episodes because we both fell asleep, but I can give you a recap. Netflix also gives snippets of previous episodes before the new one begins. You in?”
Adam considers the offer for a few seconds.
“Is there more to the show than the brothers. I mean, I’m sure you’d be fine if it was just them . . .”
“Yes. There are hot girls. And lots of bloody deaths.”
I’m prepared to give him an out, to tell him he doesn’t have to stay, but he repositions himself, propping his right ankle on top of his left before saying, “Sold. You had me at hot girls, but I’m staying for the bloody deaths.”
“I’m warning you,” Zoe teases. “After one episode, you’re going to be hooked. But don’t worry. Those ethics principles bind our girl Jess here to therapist/patient confidentiality. For the time that she is treating you, she cannot tell anyone about your love of sexy vampires.”
His eyes train on the TV, but he smiles.
“Well, then, I guess I’m safe. For now.”
I’m safe too, I realize, from having to explain what happened outside Yu’s to Adam. He probably would have asked, eventually, if Zoe wasn’t here. But she is, so I consider myself lucky.
And thank goodness for the APTA ethics and all the confidentiality jargon because Zoe is right. That’s the night Adam Carson becomes a die-hard fan of sexy vampires.
7