Abi and the Boy She Loves
Page 9
The tension in my chest eased, knowing she meant what she said because Jon was right. I’d been through hell and back to get where I was now. Staying home would just be admitting defeat. I needed to go, to prove to myself that I could do this. That I really did have my freedom.
“I want to go back to college,” I said.
“The trial—” Glen began, but I shook my head.
“I have a good therapist in place; I’m doing well in track. I don’t want to let all that go,” I said. “And no one’s told us when the trial starts, much less when the parole hearing is. They could both be this summer for all we know.”
The three adults exchanged a look.
Acid rose in my throat. “What?” I demanded.
Grandma worried her hands in her lap. “Eric’s first hearing is in two months. You’ve been subpoenaed as a witness.”
Jon dropped onto the couch beside me. “Wow.”
Too many thoughts came at me at once, and a buzzing sound crowded out any hopes of sorting them out. The trial. Dad. Jon. Evan and Michele. It was like they were all torpedoing my brain, trying to gain access but failing because there was just too much.
Jon’s voice cut the noise. “Abi?” He took my hand in his and lowered his voice, just talking to me. “What do you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” The desperation I heard behind his words almost scared me.
All of my thoughts snapped into action, slammed into place. “I want to go.” I stood and gave Grandma and the Scollers quick, awkward hugs. “I’ll see you soon.”
I took the keys to Jon’s car off the hook by the door, marched down the sidewalk, and sat in the driver’s seat, waiting for him to come outside. My bags could stay here. I could live with what I left in the dorms.
When Jon came out, he was smart enough to stay silent, to let me process.
For the first part of the drive, Jon held my hand, knowing I needed his presence more than his words. But eventually, I needed to talk, and not just about the trial.
“What is going on with you?” I asked.
Jon looked down at his leg. “That’s what you want to talk about? With everything we just heard inside?”
I pressed on anyway. “You’ve never been upset about me hanging out with my friends before or thought I should ask permission. And you’ve never wanted to see my messages.”
My unspoken question hung between us, palpable. Was this our new normal?
“I don’t know.” His head hung as he stared at his hands. “I think I’ve just been leaning on you a lot lately. Ever since...what happened, we’ve hardly been apart. It surprised me you could leave so easily.”
Suddenly, Jon looked smaller than usual. More like someone I needed to protect than someone I typically relied on for strength.
How could I support him the way he needed—and deserved—when a constant state of panic welled below the surface of my consciousness?
But I had to figure it out, because this was part of a relationship.
Right? Give and take? Giving all you had when the other person had nothing left?
“Jon.” I looked at him as long as I could while driving. “I don’t know how I can help or what you need, but I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
He stared out the window and wiped at his eyes before turning back to me, his voice raw as he spoke. “I just need you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The circles under Jon’s eyes told me he’d slept just as poorly as I had. We walked quietly together to track practice, leaving twenty minutes early to give him a chance to speak with his coach.
He tried to keep an even expression, but I could tell this was killing him inside. I couldn’t even hold his hand because of the crutches, so I settled for matching his pace, willing him to understand how much I loved him.
When we reached the hallway with his coach’s office, I said, “Wait.”
Jon settled on his crutches, looking at me.
“I need to say this, and I think you need to hear it.” I reached up and put a hand on his smooth cheek. “You are more than your ability to run.”
His eyes filled before he quickly blinked away the tears.
“I’m here for you whatever happens in that room,” I said, glancing down the hall. “I promise.”
He adjusted his crutches so he could cover my hand with his own. “That means more than you know.”
I gave him a half-hearted smile, and he turned and walked away. I waited in the hallway for him, and I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation that took place in his coach’s office.
“Coach,” he said, his voice wavering almost imperceptibly.
“Hi, Jon. How—what are you doing on crutches?”
Jon told him he’d been in a ski accident, shared the doctor’s prognosis.
The coach let out a few swear words. Some that would impress even my father. “How could you be so careless?”
“Coach, I promise I’d never jeopardize track—”
“Can you run?”
Jon paused a beat. “No.”
“Then you did, and I don’t think there’s anything more to say. Bring your uniform and all the gear we gave you by my office tomorrow.”
“Coach, I—”
“There’s nothing more to say, Jon. You had a nice run.”
Well, that just seemed cruel.
Jon’s crutches clacked as he adjusted them on the tile. I wondered what he would say next—or if he would just leave.
“And Jon?”
“Yeah?” All hope had left his voice.
“That includes your water bottle.”
I didn’t even bother clearing my expression before Jon came out. I could have strangled his coach for saying those things to him. Couldn’t he tell Jon was hurting? That he was a human being with a life outside of stopwatches and training plans?
“Jon, I’m so sorry,” I said.
Crying would have been better than the emotions I saw on his face. Or lack thereof. He’d turned stony, burying everything happening beneath the surface of his smooth features. “I’ll see you later.”
“But how—”
He shook his head and forced a smile. “I’ll be in my dorm. Swing by when you’re done.”
I stood in the hallway, adrift, as my rock crumbled and walked away from me.
My eyes landed on the office, on the person who’d been so cold and callous to Jon. Couldn’t he tell Jon was devastated? Lost?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. The guy might have been a collegiate track coach, but the athletes he worked with had real life feelings.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was standing in his office, shaking with rage. “How dare you,” I whispered.
He looked up at me, folded his arms. “Abi, what are you doing here?”
“He came to you, told you the truth, like a man, and all you could do was dismiss him like he’s worthless to you?”
“He is,” the coach said, as unfeeling as the tile floor beneath us. “He can’t run on my team. As an athlete, I can’t use him anymore.”
“He’s more than a pair of legs,” I argued, my voice rising higher. “He’s kind and funny and smart, and he’s overcome more than you could possibly imagine. For you to write him off like that is more than rude. It’s cruel.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Your point?”
“Eat shit.” I spun and left his office.
I knew this would get back to Coach Cadence, but I didn’t care. If this was college athletics, I didn’t want any part in it.
I went to the training center and sat beside Nikki, who was casually stretching her hamstrings.
“What happened to Jon?” she asked. “I saw him on crutches.”
“It’s a long story,” I said and filled her in. Including the confrontation I’d had with his coach. My voice was still shaking as I laid the final words on her.
Nikki’s eyes widened. “You said that?”
I nodded, my cheeks heating. I shouldn’t have used that phrase
. Even if it was how I felt.
She nudged my shoulder. “Girl, I knew you had some fire in you.”
“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Just enough to get me burned. Cadence is going to kick me off the team when she hears.”
“No way,” she said. “You’re doing well, and we need you for the points. Plus, Coach Rawlins is a hothead. He’ll respect you for standing up to him.”
“I don’t need his respect,” I seethed. “I need him to treat people better.”
“I’m sorry that happened to Jon.” She frowned at the floor. “I can’t imagine how scary it must have been.”
I blinked back the image of Jon lying in the snow, blood pooling beneath him, not knowing whether he would be okay or not. “It was horrible,” I breathed.
“Ladies,” Coach Cadence called from behind us. “Get started with warm-up. Abi, come here.”
Nikki and I exchanged glances.
“Say a prayer for me,” I muttered.
“You’ll be fine,” she reassured.
As she began warming up with the team, I walked to Coach Cadence with my head held high, ready to defend myself and Jon.
She turned away from the others and lowered her voice. “Abi, Coach Rawlins just spoke with me.”
I swallowed, nodded.
“I’m so sorry about Jon. Is there anything I can do?”
I blinked, stunned. “I’m not in trouble?”
“No.” She chuckled. “But make cursing at coaches a habit, and you might be.”
My shoulders finally relaxed. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do. It’s just...” I tried to gauge how much I should tell her. “Running was Jon’s life. I don’t know what he’s going to do without it.”
She nodded like she completely understood. “It will be hard, but he’s going to have to find something new to focus on. Something healthy. If he can do that, he’ll be okay. If not...”
Even without the rest of the sentence, I knew. He’d spiral.
I promised myself to help him find his new passion. To find himself outside of white lines and tennis shoes.
“Now, go warm up,” Coach said. “We’ve got a meet coming up, and we need you.”
As I ran toward the rest of the team, I tried to bury my guilt that I was here, living Jon’s dream, while he was alone in the dorms, living his nightmare.
Chapter Thirty
When I got back to the dorms after practice, I knocked on Jon’s door, but he didn’t answer. I figured he went somewhere or was taking a nap, so I sent him a text asking him to let me know when he wanted to hang out. Then I went back to my room.
What did I do now? It was freezing outside, Anika was still in Roderdale, Jon was tied up with something. A thought popped in my mind.
I messaged Nikki.
Abi: Help.
Abi: So. Bored.
Plus, I didn’t like being alone anymore. But I didn’t need to make myself sound entirely pathetic by sending that and letting her know.
Nikki: Come outside in ten. I have an idea.
I pocketed my phone, threw on a coat, and headed downstairs. Priscilla waited out front, exhaust pouring from her tailpipe.
When I’d gotten in and closed the door behind me, I said, “This thing is an environmental nightmare.”
She patted the dash and leaned close to the steering wheel. “Shh, Priscilla, it’s okay. Abi didn’t mean it.”
I shoved her shoulder, laughing. With a smile on her own face, she put the pickup into drive and started across town.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
“Ever been ice skating?”
“Ever been to the moon?”
She chuckled. “So I take that as a no?”
“Nope. And the thought of busting my butt on ice doesn’t exactly sound fun.”
“Girl, you’ll be fine. Hug the wall if you need to.”
I pretended I was hugging her pickup.
“Not now!” she cried, laughing.
I joined in her laughter. Hanging out with Nikki felt so light and freeing after my time at home. With Jon, a small, unwilling part of me admitted.
I needed this.
My phone went off with a new message.
Jon: Hey, sorry, I was taking a shower. Are you not in your room?
Abi: It’s fine. I’m hanging out with Nikki.
Jon: Oh.
Abi: Is that okay?
Jon: I guess. I just thought we were going to spend some time together.
Abi: Later. I promise.
Jon: Sure.
Abi: I love you. Talk to you soon.
Jon: Bye.
I frowned at my phone. I knew you couldn’t really hear tone in text messages, but Jon seemed disappointed. Why hadn’t he said he loved me back?
“What’s going on?” Nikki asked, glancing over from the road.
I shook my head. “Jon’s been...I don’t know. He’s off.”
“I’m sure he’s just having a hard time adjusting. I have no idea what I’d do if I couldn’t run anymore.”
I nodded, but it was more than that. This was the second time he’d acted upset about me hanging out with my friends. I knew he needed me, but I needed time to myself too.
What was I thinking? Jon wasn’t possessive. He was probably just surprised. And lonely, like I felt when he wasn’t around. Wasn’t that why I’d reached out to Nikki? Plus, we had planned to spend the afternoon together. As more guilt settled over me, I sent him another message.
Abi: Let’s grab supper tonight.
Jon replied a few minutes later.
Jon: Can’t wait. Love you too.
Feeling a little better, I put my phone in my purse.
Nikki turned up the radio. “I love this song!”
I’d heard it a few times. Enough to sing along and completely butcher the lyrics.
“Stop!” Nikki cried. “You’re ruining it!”
I sang another line even louder.
“She does not say ‘pigs eat men from broken down!’” Nikki yelled through tears of laughter.
I laughed with her as she pulled into the ice rink parking lot and turned off her pickup, effectively cutting off the song.
“What?” I asked innocently. “You didn’t want to listen to the rest of the song? I was just getting into it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Ms. Underwood, let’s get inside.”
After checking out ice skates and putting them on, we wobbled over to the ice. Nikki was a natural athlete, making her way better at ice skating than me. It probably helped that she’d practiced a few times before. She easily glided over the ice, her hands linked behind her back.
I, however, clung to the wall (as suggested) and had no intentions of letting go any time soon.
She made a loop by me and slid to an easy stop. “How’s it going, girl?”
“I hate you.”
“That good?”
I shook my head, exasperated, and started shuffling toward the exit. “I’m getting some cocoa.”
“I’m going to make a few more turns. Grab me some?”
“Sure.” Somehow, I made it to the edge and tossed off my skates, walking in my snowflake socks to the concession stand.
As I sat on one of the benches, watching the couples skating together, holding hands, I couldn’t help the ache of jealousy that formed in the pit of my stomach. Never mind that I could hardly stay upright, that could have been Jon and me. But I had to remove that possibility from my mind. At least in the near future. We both had bigger things to worry about.
On the way home, Jon texted me a screen shot of a reservation confirmation at a restaurant.
Jon: Wear something nice. I’ll pick you up at 7.
“Have you ever been to this place?” I asked Nikki, sounding out the Italian name.
Her eyes widened. “He’s taking you there?”
“What?” I asked. “Is it bad?”
She shook her head quickly. “No, it’s just—is he proposing? It’s super fancy the
re.”
My brows came together. Proposing? “I don’t think so. I don’t know why he would right now. It’s not exactly great timing.”
One of her shoulders lifted. “You never know. I mean, you do have mad ice-skating skills. I wouldn’t blame him for not being able to wait.”
“You suck.”
She laughed. “You’ll like it. It’s a really pretty restaurant. My parents took me there after I signed for the track team. You can see the entire city from there.”
My mind flashed back to the library tower, to the guy who’d stood beside me, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. How could I have known who Eric was? That he had a vendetta against my dad that made me guilty by association?
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do you not want him to propose?” she asked.
I shook my head, trying to focus on the moment. “No, it’s not that. I mean, I want to marry him someday. I’m just...” I sighed at my inability to string a complete thought together. “It’s been a long couple of weeks.”
She reached over and rubbed my back. “I’m here for you, girl.”
I smiled. “Don’t let Priscilla hear that.”
Even though I tried to act cavalier, I couldn’t shake Nikki’s first question. Was Jon proposing? And then her second. Did I want him to?
Chapter Thirty-One
There was no amount of make-up or weight loss or skin-smoothing girdles that would ever make me feel comfortable in a dress. Much less this strappy one Grandma had insisted I buy for special occasions. I couldn’t even wear a bra with the thing. The pink silk slid over my skin and revealed every curve of my body—even the ones I didn’t like so much. Thin ribbons of fabric criss-crossed over my back, revealing skin almost all the way down to my waist.
As I turned from the mirror, I knew my brain was still trying to reconcile my old appearance with my new one. My therapist had taught me that, at least. To turn away and focus on what I knew to be true.
Right now, I knew Jon would be here any second. And I hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed.
A knock sounded on my door, and I glanced at the time on my phone. Exactly seven o’clock. How was he always so punctual?
“One second,” I called and bent toward my mirror to apply lipstick. I opted for a darker shade that wouldn’t compete with my dress.