Authors: Allie Everhart
"You're eating. And you need a shower. You stink. Now get up." She sounds like a drill sergeant. She looks like one too, standing over my bed with her hands on her hips.
"I thought you were sick."
"I got some medicine. I'm starting to feel better. I'm just tired."
I sit up, bringing my legs over to the side of the bed. "Why are you talking to me? Aren't you mad at me?"
"Yes." She hands me my crutches. "But I'm also your friend, and friends help each other out after a break-up."
I pull myself up on the crutches. "I texted him and told him I'm sorry. But he didn't text back. I thought at least he'd text me to ask how my leg is doing. But I guess he doesn't care."
She sighs. "I shouldn't tell you this, but I talked to him."
I perk up. "You did? When?"
"Yesterday. He called me. And he called again just now."
"And? What did he say?"
"He just wanted to know if you're okay."
"But he didn't want to talk to me?"
She pauses, like she doesn't want to answer, but then quietly says, "No."
I nod, tears starting to form. I blink a few times, trying to hold them back.
"Kira, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. It's not your fault. It's mine. I'm going to take a shower." I go around her to leave, but then stop and look back at her. "Amber, I'm sorry I lied to you. I only hid what I was doing because I knew you wouldn't approve. And I knew you'd tell my parents."
"Because I care about you. I didn't want you getting hurt."
"I know, but you need to stop worrying about me. I can handle this. I promise, I won't let this happen again."
I know she doesn't believe me but she doesn't say anything so I leave and go in the bathroom. I take a long, hot shower, my mind consumed with Austin. Amber said he didn't want to talk to me, so I guess that means it's over. For good.
In the morning I go to the gym, not to work out, but to see Austin. I need to tell him I'm sorry in person. But when I get to the gym, he's not there. I go there again the next day, and he's still not there.
Before I leave, I go up to his friend who works at the front desk. "Have you seen Austin?"
"Yeah. He works out at night now."
"Oh. Okay, thanks."
Did Austin know I'd be coming here to see him? Did he change his workout schedule to avoid me?
I go in the women's locker room and cry. I can't help it. I miss him so much. What would I have to do to get him back? Stop working out? But I have to work out or I'll never compete again. Even if I cut back on my workouts, I don't think he'd agree to be with me. He left me because I wasn't honest with him. And now he doesn't trust me.
The week continues and I don't hear anything from Austin. My mom arrives on Friday. She's spending the weekend and, as expected, she lectures me as soon as she arrives, because of course, Amber told my parents what really happened. I'd told them I tripped and fell, but Amber told them I was working out too hard. But at least she didn't tell them that Austin was training me at the gym. If she had, my parents would be mad at Austin and probably call him up and yell at him, and that's the last thing I want. None of this was his fault so I don't want him getting any of the blame.
"I know all this, Mom," I tell her. "You don't have to keep telling me."
"Apparently I do, because no matter how many times we've gone over this, you're still not following the doctor's orders."
"That's not true. This is the first time I've pushed myself like this."
We're in a coffee shop and she sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest. "And what about last April?"
Last April, my dad caught me working out at a gym in the next town over. I never found out how he knew I was there. He wouldn't tell me.
"I only did that one time," I say.
"You weren't supposed to be doing it all." She gives me her mom look that makes me feel like I'm a kid again.
"Can we please not talk about this?" I look down at my coffee, swirling my spoon inside the cup.
My mom puts her hand on mine. "Honey, tell me why you did it. Tell me why you pushed yourself like that."
"I didn't mean to get hurt," I say, keeping my eyes on my cup. "I just like working out."
"It's more than that," she says gently. "It's because you—"
"Stop. Okay?" I look up at her and move my hand from hers. "I told you I don't want to talk about it."
She sighs. "Kira, you can't keep doing this."
"Doing what?" I ask, nervously chewing my lip.
"Trying to compete again." She softens her voice. "I know how much you want to be part of that world again. The training. The meets. But it's too late. You can't—"
"It's not too late!" I say it louder than I meant to and notice people staring. I lower my voice. "I just...I just want to get in shape, okay? That's it."
"Honey, we both know what you were trying to do. But look what happened. You got hurt again. You can't keep doing this to yourself."
I look at my mom in her worn out clothes, which are faded and out of style. She can't afford anything new because she and my dad are barely making ends meet. And it's all because of me. Because of a dream I had that never came true.
A lump forms in my throat, tears threatening to fall. I glance down and blink really fast to fight back the tears.
"Kira, what is it?" my mom asks, reaching across the table and putting her hand on my arm. "What's wrong?"
"It's my fault," I say just loud enough for her to hear.
"What's your fault?"
I take a shaky breath. "It's my fault you and Dad have no money. It's my fault you guys are struggling and only have one car and can't afford to—"
"Kira, stop." She puts her hand over mine. "Look at me." I lift my eyes to hers and see that she too is close to tears. "Your father and I are doing fine. We may not be rich but we pay our bills and that's all that matters. And our financial situation is not your fault. You didn't force us to let you do gymnastics. We did it because we knew how much you loved it and we wanted you to be happy. The same with your brothers. Your father and I make sacrifices so your brothers can be in all the sports and other activities they want to do."
"It's not the same. The cost for Luke to be in baseball or Josh to play football is nothing compared to what it costs for me to—"
"Kira." She gently squeezes my hand, her eyes on mine. "Is this why you keep doing this? Why you keep trying to compete again? Because of money?"
I nod, my eyes dropping to the table. "I wanted to pay you back."
She sighs. "Honey, we never expected you to do that. Even if you'd made money as a gymnast, we would never expect you to pay us back. You're our child. You don't owe us anything."
"Would you like more coffee?" the waitress asks as she stops by our table.
The waitress's sudden appearance and high-pitched voice startles both my mom and me and we sit back in our chairs.
"I think we're good," my mom says, smiling at her.
The waitress looks at me. I'm sure my eyes are red and puffy and I know they're teary. I can feel the wetness in them.
She frowns. "Oh, um, sorry to interrupt." She hurries off.
I take a breath and wipe my eyes. "Can we talk about something else now?" I ask my mom.
She smiles. "Sure. But I want you to promise me you won't keep worrying about your father and me. Can you do that?"
I nod, but I'll still worry about them. I know they're struggling more than she'll tell me.
"And I mean it when I say you need to stop this," she continues, her smile gone, her face serious. "If I find out you're training again, you'll be coming back home."
"Mom, you can't—"
"I sure as hell can." She never swears so the fact that she did means she's serious. But she can't drag me back home. I'm an adult. "You may be 21 but you're still my child and I won't let you hurt yourself again. Do you hear me?"
I nod, then switch topics and ask her about my brothers, who are home with my dad this weekend. Josh has football practice and I didn't want him missing it to come here.
The rest of the weekend, my mom and I hang out and watch movies and go out to eat, avoiding any more discussions about my leg. She briefly mentions it before she leaves, reminding me to take it easy, but that's it. She asked me about Austin and I told her we broke up but didn't say anything more. She could tell I'm not ready to talk about it so she didn't push.
Overall, it was a good weekend. It was good to see my mom again but my mind kept going to Austin. I miss him so much. He's all I can think about.
The next week, I try to focus all my energy on my classes. I'm not getting all A's but I'm doing okay. I've been able to maintain an A in biology. I'm finding that if I like a class, I do better in it.
My leg is healing faster than expected. The pain is mostly gone and I no longer have to use the crutches, but I still have to wear this stupid boot. It makes it hard to walk so I've been taking the campus shuttle to get to the different buildings where my classes are held. And Amber drives me to and from campus since I can't use my bike. She's had to rearrange her schedule in order to drive me. I don't know how I'm going to repay her for all this. She's been such a great friend, going above and beyond what I ever expected her to do.
On Saturday, I take her for a manicure because she loves them and never gets them. Then I take her to lunch. It's not nearly enough to thank her for all she's done for me but it's a start.
That night, we load up on junk food and watch movies. She hasn't been going out with Matt as much as she used to. He's been taking extra shifts at the suit store on weekends. She said Matt told her Dylan finally came in and bought that suit he had on hold. Other than that, she hasn't mentioned Dylan.
And I've been trying not to mention Austin. But I still think about him. I'm always thinking about him and I want him back. I at least want to see him, and I'm hoping I will next weekend. Next Saturday is that event he organized to help seniors with their yard work. I told him I'd help with it back when we were dating, and even though we're not together anymore, I still plan to be there. I even got a doctor's note saying I could do it, because I know Austin would make me leave if I didn't get a note.
The following week, I start getting excited to see him again, but I'm a little worried he may not talk to me. It's been almost three weeks since I saw him last, and by now, he might have moved on with someone else. If so, I've probably lost any chance of even being friends with him again.
By Friday, I'm tired of studying and want to get out of the apartment. Vandyl is playing tonight and I consider going but then change my mind. I can't take seeing Austin with another girl. I've convinced myself he has one by now. He has girls lining up to be with him so I'm sure he's found someone new.
There's a knock on the door. It's five-thirty and I'm not expecting anyone. Amber is still on campus and if it were her, she wouldn't knock.
I check the peephole. It's Nash, Austin's brother. I immediately panic. Why is Nash here? Did something happen to Austin? Working construction is dangerous. Anything could happen.
I yank the door open. "Nash, what's wrong? Is Austin okay?"
"Yeah. He's fine. I mean, he's not—never mind. I'm here to talk about tomorrow. Can I come in?"
"Sure." I step aside and let him in.
I like Nash. I got to know him when I went with Austin to some of the family dinners at his dad's house. Nash was always really nice to me. His other brothers were too. Austin's whole family is great. They always made me feel welcome.
"You need to be there around eight." Nash hands me a sheet of paper. "Those are the places you need to be and when. I've listed the addresses there. I know you're not that familiar with Chicago, so if you get lost, just call me. My phone number is on there."
I take a moment to look at the sheet he gave me. At the top it says
First Annual Wheeler Fall Fix-Up Event
. As I review the list of assignments, I see that I'm not on Austin's work crew. He'll be at a different house than me. I'm sure that's intentional.
"You sure you can do this?" Nash points to the boot on my leg. I assume Austin told them what happened and how I lied to him. They're a close family. He tells his brothers almost everything.
"Yeah. I even got a doctor's note." I go over to the kitchen counter where I have it sitting. I bring it to Nash. "I told the doctor I'd be raking leaves and he was fine with that."
Nash stuffs the note in his pocket. "So you can be there at eight?"
"I'll try, but I don't have a car so it'll depend on the bus schedule."
"Shit, I forgot about that," Nash says. "Callie and I will come pick you up."
"That's okay. I'll just take the bus and walk to wherever the house is." I look at the sheet again. I have no idea where that address is. I still don't know my way around Chicago or the suburbs.
"You're not taking the bus. We'll pick you up. And when it's time to go to the next house, you can get a ride with Bryce. He's the crew leader at the house you'll be working at in the morning."