Authors: Emily Hainsworth
The field looks completely different from this vantage. I’m used to being down
there
, not up here. I look out at the markings visible on the dark grass and try to picture the last game I played as it would’ve looked to someone in this spot. It’s hard to detach myself from the action, to see a small ball flying into my arms—a small me so set on winning I don’t see what’s coming. Viv’s frozen fingers find their way inside my shirt. A chill runs through me, but I let her warm them there.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks.
“I’m trying to remember what it was like to be him—before my leg.”
“Ugh.” She nuzzles into the open collar of my jacket. “
Practice, practice, practice
… then after the broken leg it was
physical therapy, weight lifting, practice …
”
I squeeze her. “I bet it was more like
Viv, practice, Viv, Viv, practice, Viv …
”
I lean in for a kiss but she pushes my face away playfully. “It wasn’t.”
“Well, if I were him, I’d—”
“You
are
him.” She smiles crookedly.
“I wonder how our lives got to be so different....”
She gazes down at me. “Because
you
did everything right.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I did everything wrong! I could’ve pushed myself to play … I wouldn’t have been resented by the whole school—”
“What did you choose instead?” Viv asks, staring deep into my eyes.
“I … chose you.” I realize it’s true as soon as the words are out of my mouth.
Who needs them when we have each other?
I didn’t think I’d need anything else, until the night she died.
She frowns, and there’s such profound sadness in her eyes, I can barely stand it.
“Am I so bad?” she asks.
I wrap my arms around her and she leans in, hair spilling down around her face. Her lips are warm despite the chilly night.
“You’re everything,” I say.
She sits back and sniffs.
“Please let me stay here—forever?”
“Really, Viv”—I trace my finger down her perfect nose—“what’s so complicated about your life?”
She hesitates and looks at her lap. “Everyone wants to judge me. I just want to get away from it all—with
you
.”
I lift her chin and stare into her eyes. “I told you, we’ll figure it out. You can’t stay over here … but I’m not going anywhere.”
She studies me back for a long second, but then her face falls and she slides out of my lap.
“Except to Nina’s.”
I sit motionless as the warmth where our bodies touched slowly grows cold. I’d been prepared for something like this earlier, but now her tone of voice catches me completely off guard.
“Come on, Viv, I told you I wouldn’t—”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“Are you still worried about the stalker thing? Because I don’t think—”
She jerks her hand from my grasp. “I’m not!”
“But she tried to help me today—”
“She
what
?”
I realize what I’ve said far too late. Viv folds her arms tight in front of her.
“I didn’t go to her—she came to see me.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Let’s be reasonable.”
She leaps up onto the wooden bench before I can blink. “You don’t know her—you don’t know what she did. She tried to take you from me—”
“Viv, get down.” I get quickly to my feet. “You’re going to fall.”
The bleachers are old. There are no backs to the benches, just a low metal bar to keep
seated
people from falling off the back. Viv’s eyes are wild, like an animal’s. I’ve never seen her act this way before. She holds her arms out like she’s on a balance beam, and teeters to one side. My eyes flit to the ground fifteen feet down, littered with broken glass.
Viv follows my gaze, leaning forward enough to edge my heart toward panic. Her expression is sad and ghostly. A breeze tosses her hair wildly across her face and I have this strange thought that if she just pushes it back, she’ll be able to see that what she’s doing, the way she’s talking, is all wrong. But right then she does push it back—and that doesn’t happen.
“I wonder if it hurt—when I died.” She holds a fist to her chest and sways. “I don’t think it could hurt like this.”
My skin prickles with sweat, but the air doesn’t feel cold anymore. I hold my hands up, heartbeat pounding out of control.
“
Okay!
I won’t see her again—ever—please get down!”
Viv catches my eye and smiles. She moves to step down—but either loses her balance or changes her mind at the last second. I cry out. I don’t know if she’s going backward or forward; all I can see are her eyes, and she’s falling, and—
we’re in the front seat, she’s reaching for the lighter, and the car is spinning and spinning across the pavement, and all I can do is close my eyes and
—I leap out and grab her Red Rams jacket, yanking her into my arms. We collapse into the aisle of the rickety bleachers in a heap, and I hold her so tightly, neither one of us can breathe.
“Just checking,” she gasps.
I loosen my grip, but I don’t let go.
I TUCK VIV SAFELY INTO BED AROUND MIDNIGHT, WITH A PROMISE
on my lips to pick her up by nine tomorrow night. I lower the window behind me and walk slowly out to the road. Once my feet hit the blacktop, I let out a long breath I didn’t even know I was holding. I feel empty, unsteady—completely drained. The evening keeps playing over in my mind, but each time I recall Viv—
my
Viv—standing at the top of those bleachers, I just get more confused. I need to go straight home to bed if I’m going to be worth anything tomorrow, but I take a right at the bottom of her street instead. I make it to Genesee Street in ten minutes, and it’s another five until I’m standing in the last place I ought to be. In front of Nina’s door.
I look over my shoulder before ringing the bell, which feels stupid and paranoid, and doesn’t put me at ease. Viv was so upset tonight—there has to be something I’m missing. And Nina’s the only person I know to ask. I tell myself it’s okay to be here as long as it’s for
us
. If I can figure out what’s going on, I can fix it, and Viv will be happy.
Nina’s actually in pajamas this evening, though her eyes tell me she hasn’t been to sleep. Her loose gray pants have little penguins on them, and she’s wearing this tight lacy blue camisole that doesn’t seem to match. Not what I expected, and now I’m thrown. I was all ready to ask her about Viv, to try and get some insight on what happened tonight, but my thoughts scatter when I see her, and I chicken out.
“How’s Owen?” I say. “Is he doing okay?”
“He’s good … he’s asleep.” She hesitates, studies me for a long moment, and I’m sure she sees right through the
everything’s fine
look I’m trying to keep on my face. “Do you want some tea?”
A part of me that’s been winding tight all evening finally dares to relax. Tea. No drama or demands, just Nina and her open door.
In the kitchen, I swivel in one of the awkward yellow space-age chairs and Nina fills the kettle. She rests one hip against the cabinets while the water runs, looking away. I watch carefully. She sets out two mugs, selects tea, and refills the sugar, all without even a glance at me. She doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t seem at all alarmed that I’m there.
I have to sit on my shaking hands.
“I meant to come over sooner … to check on Owen.”
She shrugs.
I flinch. There is no reason that should bother me, but the way she brushes me off, like it doesn’t matter to her one way or the other, gets under my skin. I watch the blue flame flicker on the stove until the kettle whistles. Nina pours boiling water into the mugs, lets the tea steep, and adds two spoonfuls of sugar to mine without even pausing to ask. I smile, realizing she already knows exactly the way I like it.
“Thanks,” I say, cupping the mug in one hand.
“My mom always used to say, there’s no trouble so great that can’t be diminished by a nice cup of tea.” She smiles and shrugs. “You’ve probably heard that before.”
“Not me,” I say. Though when she said it, she almost scrunched her nose.
“She was English,” she says. “One day I’m going to go there—to the little village she came from. I want to live in the English countryside and read books, and invite people over for a nice cup of tea.” She stops herself just as her voice gets dreamy. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t stop, it sounds nice.”
She gives me a funny glance. “Sometimes I feel like I’m repeating myself.”
I try to picture her living in a little cottage somewhere, but I’m not sure what else to include in an image of her being happy.
“So how would you spend your English countryside evenings?” I ask, remembering the posters in her closet. “Watching vintage horror films by yourself, or what?”
She looks up from her tea without lifting her head.
“Noticed your collection,” I say lamely. “You’ve got good taste.”
“You—
he
gave me those.” She smiles at me tentatively. “We used to do that—a new horror flick every week. If we liked it, he’d track down a poster. I got a serious education in blood spatter and zombies.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You need to know your zombies. But why not hang the posters?”
“I used to have them up all over.” The smile retreats from her lips.
I think of her cell-like walls. “No offense, but your room is way scarier without them.”
She snorts—but then it turns into a giggle. “That’s why he bought them.” Her cheeks go pink when she can’t stop, and the laughter makes it all the way to her eyes. It’s a good look for her.
Neither of us says anything for a while. She gets milk from the fridge and stirs it into her mug with a lingering smile. I settle into my chair. I was right to come. My troubles might not disappear with my tea, but being with Nina makes me feel better somehow.
My memory flashes back to why I came, and I sit forward, tense. The moment is gone.
“Why don’t you and Viv like each other?” I ask.
Nina’s eyes widen, but she hesitates before speaking.
“Why do you ask? Did she say something?”
“No, it’s just … it seems that way,” I say.
Her spoon clinks the edges of the mug loudly, around and around. I wish she’d stop. I can’t think. Her back is straight, like she’s ready to jump, but she looks down into the milky drink, not at me.
I gather the courage to say what I came here to say.
“Does Viv ever seem kind of … over the top to you?”
Nina’s spoon clatters to the table, but she picks it back up. “I guess you could say that.”
I wait for her to continue, but she just sits there, holding her spoon precariously over her mug. I can’t get the image out of my mind of Viv teetering wild-eyed on the bleachers.
“She gets kind of reckless sometimes,” I say.
“Um, wasn’t she like that—”
“Before she died? Yeah, but it’s not the same.” I turn the idea over in my mind, trying to put my finger on what it could be. “She’s always had an edge, but it was a fun one before. This is different.”
“How?” Nina’s features are a mask to me—so aggravating. Viv’s face expresses everything she feels. At least I know what’s going on with her even when I don’t get why. I know Nina’s never going to admit what she really thinks of Viv, but it would help if I could just figure out where she stands. I study her closely; she doesn’t even twitch.
“I thought she was going to hurt herself tonight.”
She looks up. “Hurt … herself?”
“I didn’t know what to do, Nina. Viv—
my Viv
—would never have acted like that.”
Saying it out loud makes me want to throw up.
“What did she do?” she asks stiffly.
I wave my hand and rest my elbow on the table. “It doesn’t matter. She’s okay. Look, I just need to know—is something going on between the two of you?”
She narrows her eyes. “Why would there be?”
“Don’t ask me, I just got here!” I rake a hand through my hair. “Just, what did you do to piss her off? It’s like she can read my mind if I’m even
thinking
about you.”
Nina swallows hard. “She’s never been a fan of our … friendship.”
I clench my teeth and play the scenario on the bleachers over in my mind, Viv freaking about Nina, me lunging to catch her, the desperate look in her eyes. Every nerve in my body willing her not to fall. My eyes close. If I open them, I will be back there in the dark with her—on the bleachers, or in the car—the sky black and ready to swallow us both again. All I can hear is my own shallow breathing, drowning out the blood rushing through my ears.
“Cam?”
A warm hand closes over the top of mine. I jump and open my eyes. Nina’s kitchen is bright and comfortable. Her eyes are questioning. I unclench my fists, and she gives the faintest smile. Something twinges deep in my chest.
She frowns. “Viv is kind of unbalanced …”
I rub my eyes and laugh. “Aren’t we all?”