Page 4 of Coping Skills

Chapter Three

“So, um, I’m sorry about cutting you off like that this summer.” Elena sat at the kitchen table in the apartment Daniel shared with Coop, one of his teammates. When Daniel had texted to let Coop know he was bringing a girl over, he’d made himself scarce. Not that Daniel wanted privacy for the reasons Coop would think, but everything about Elena’s demeanor screamed her desire to have this conversation away from anyone else.

“It’s okay.” He paused, watching her run her fingers up and down the condensation gathering on her glass of ice water. She wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t meet his eyes, so he leaned forward and touched her arm. “You said you had some family stuff going on. I figured it must’ve been bad enough to take over your life for a while. I know how that goes.”

She finally glanced at him, her eyes running over his face, but then she focused on the condensation on her glass once more. “Do you? I bet it’s not the same as mine.”

He shrugged, even though she wasn’t looking at him, and sat back in his chair. “My parents divorced when I was thirteen. Dad moved out at the beginning of the summer. It pretty much ruined everything. I didn’t get to do very much. Instead, my little brother and I got shuttled back and forth between my parents, alternating every couple of weeks until school started. The divorce got finalized pretty soon after that, and my mom got primary custody, with every other weekend with my dad. He would always threaten to take Mom to court to change the custody agreement when she wouldn’t give in to him. But it wasn’t because he wanted more time with us. We were pawns to him, something to be used to gain the upper hand. He’s always given us expensive, crazy things to try to make up for the fact that he didn’t spend as much time with us. Oh, and his girlfriends always look closer to my age than his.”

Elena let out a soft grunt. “I’m sorry. That is sucky.”

“Yeah, well. I was the first of my friends to get an iPhone, so that was something. And I always get the upgrade as soon as the family plan allows.”

Now she snorted, setting her glass back down after taking a sip. “Like that makes up for it.”

“Right? But whatever. You find the good where you can.” His hand settled on the table, reaching for her, but he stopped himself this time. “So what about you? Your parents splitting up? I can’t imagine that would be much easier in college than in middle school. Though you won’t have to worry about custody agreements.”

Something like a smile ghosted across her lips. And he was glad that she’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail when she went home to change into shorts and a tank top before coming over to his place. With the way she kept her head down, her gaze fixated on her fingers tracing lines over her glass, her hair would’ve been in her face. This way, he could at least see her profile.

“No.” She shook her head. “Custody agreements definitely aren’t the problem. My parents are still together. I wish it was only that.” The last sentence came out softer, like she didn’t quite mean to say it.

“Trust me, you don’t really wish that.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, and she bit her lip, seeming to consider her next words. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and started talking, the words coming fast and monotone, like she wanted to get it all out as fast as she could. “My dad got in a car accident the week after we got back from Westport. Someone ran a stop sign and plowed into the passenger side, pushing him into the other lane. His head hit the window hard, and then he got hit from the front, slamming his head back against the headrest. The second driver tried to stop, so it wasn’t as bad of a hit as it could’ve been, but it was a two-lane highway, and she was going fifty-five, so she didn’t have enough space to do more than slow down a little.” She shook her head, her eyes opening, but still not looking at him. “He spent two weeks in the hospital, the first in a medically-induced coma until the swelling in his brain went down enough. They weren’t sure he’d actually come out of the coma.” She swallowed, blinking rapidly. “He did, though. The hospital staff was surprised with how quickly he recovered. At least according to them. He got discharged and sent to a rehab facility. He stayed there for another month before he came home.

“But—“ She bit her lip, shaking her head again, and stopped.

“But?” Daniel prompted.

Her eyes met his, gathering tears making her brown eyes shimmer in the afternoon light coming from the window in the living room. “But he’s not the same. At all. I spent my summer shuttling my mom and my brother between home, the hospital, and the rehab center. My mom took him to all of his appointments after he came back home. And I had to contact all his clients and cancel contracts or take over the ones I could.”

“What kind of contracts?”

“He does web design and consulting on web marketing and conversion. I helped him in high school, so I offered the web design clients the option of cancelling or having me do it. But the consulting work isn’t something I know enough to do. My mom’s a teacher, so she was off work anyway, and she’s going to take as much family leave as she can before she has to go back.” She sat up straighter, running her fingers under her eyes where a couple of tears had escaped. “Anyway, that’s my awful summer for you. I had to tell so many people about what was going on. Between my dad’s clients, and helping my mom update extended family and friends, it was just too much. I basically stayed away from social media and only talked to Hannah all summer. I couldn’t handle either telling everyone all the shitty things my family was dealing with or pretending everything was fine. And you got caught in that, so, again, I’m sorry. I know it’s super cliché, but it wasn’t you. It was me.”

Daniel smiled. “It’s alright. I get it. I’m glad you’re talking to me now.” She gave him a small smile in return but didn’t say anything else. The silence stretched between them, her avoiding his gaze again, him staring at her, taking in the line of her jaw, the expanse of skin bared from the low scoop neck of her top. He shifted, feeling awkward, like he should say something. “At least the accident didn’t kill him, though, right?” Her eyes snapped to his. Had he said something wrong? “I mean, that’s something, isn’t it?”

Her gaze softened, but the sadness that hadn’t left her face seemed to be tempered by something else, and he wasn’t sure what. “Yeah,” she said, almost whispering. “That’s something.”

That wasn’t quite the response he’d been looking for.Somethingdidn’t sound very comforting the way she said it. But words weren’t his strong suit. He was a math major. He knew numbers and angles, and he knew working hard in the weight room and on the football field. When he was frustrated with something, he dealt with it there or by playing video games with his friends. Maybe a distraction would be good for her.

He stood. “C’mon. I’ve got an idea.”

She looked up at him, her brows drawn together, but curiosity in her eyes. “What?”

Holding out a hand, he tilted his head toward the couch. “I’ll show you.”

She hesitated a moment longer, then put her hand in his, allowing him to pull her up to standing. Her grip was firm, and he enjoyed the brief contact as he led her to the couch. She sat down while he went over to the consoles, trying to decide which game would be best. Shuffling a few options in his hands, he glanced back at her. “Do you play much?”

A low chuckle escaped, and the sound made him glad. He wanted to cheer her up, and it seemed to be working already. She shook her head. “Not really. I used to play with my little brother when we were younger, but it’s been years.”

With a nod, he picked outMario Kartand put the Wii controllers into the wheels. He always thought they made it harder to control, but it made it more fun if you weren’t being ultra competitive and trying to kick everyone’s ass. She smirked at him when he handed her the controller, but didn’t object.

“I usually go for the first person shooter games when I’m trying to blow off steam, but those are harder to get the hang of.” He sat, and the old, thrift-store-issue couch sank in the middle so that she leaned toward him. Instead of shifting away like he’d expected, she rested against him, their arms pressed comfortably together. That wouldn’t last long once the game started, but he’d enjoy it while it lasted. Every time her skin touched his, memories of their all-too-brief fling in Westport flitted through his mind—his hand sliding down her back, her face when he went down on her the first time, the naughty smile she gave him right before yanking his shorts down and returning the favor.

He shifted, trying to think of something else. While repeating all those things sounded like a great idea to him, she wasn’t here for that. And he wasn’t enough of an asshole to try to turn things that way, not after she’d spilled all the shitty details of her summer. No, he knew they wouldn’t go there today. He wouldn’t rule out an opportunity in the future, but right now she needed a friend, not some guy trying to get in her pants. And he was determined to be that friend.

“Are you going to start the game?”

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