Page 11 of Over & Out

The thought never occurred to me until right this minute. Not when I told off a movie star in his restaurant. Not when that boiled goat hit that woman’s shoe. Now.

I haven’t seen Mac this upset in a long time.

Except at the wordfiring, he looks devastated. “Fireyou? Chris, what the hell are you talking about? No, I’m not going to fire you for one bad day.”

“It hasn’t been just one day. I’ve messed up every day since I’ve been back.”

“That’s hardly been your fault, has it?”

I lean over in my chair, my head suddenly throbbing. “I’ve been screwing up since I got back.”

“I told you, Chris. You need to rest.”

“No.” I stand, unable to stop clenching my fists. I’m not having this argument again. “I need action. I need intensity. I need…”I need Betty.I need to ride my bike. But I sold Betty after the accident.

“I know you thrive under pressure,” Mac says. “But maybe it’s time to figure out how to thrive without it.”

I shake my head. “I was fine before. Riding my bike was?—”

“How you relieved it, I know. And you thought throwing yourself into work was the next best thing, right?”

I nod glumly.

“But clearly, it’s not working. It’s not working so much so that you let that prick get to you.”

“You’re not mad that I upset a movie star in your restaurant?”

“The dude with the worst reputation in Hollywood?”

“I’m surprised you even know who he is.”

Mac blows out a puff of air. “You got Shelby into that Duke stuff. Then he trashed that hotel room in Swan River a few months back?—”

“He what?” I gape. “What was he doing in Swan River?” Swan River’s a town forty minutes south of Redbeard Cove, an hour’s ferry ride from Vancouver. It’s bigger, but not big enough to host movie stars.

“I have no idea. But it was a mom-and-pop type inn. They had to hire contractors to fix it.”

I blanch, imagining just how upset someone would have to be to do the kind of damage that required renovating.

“He’s a loose cannon, Chris. I’m impressed you gave him as good as he gave you.”

I swallow. “I’m not sure I would have given him anything if I’d known who he was.” Or what he was capable of.

“Come on. The Chris I know doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

“The Chris you know is gone,” I say bitterly. “And I don’t know if she’s ever coming back.” I slump back down in the chair, a lump in my throat.

There it is. The bare truth. The fun-loving personality I so carefully curated, with my carefree disposition and adventurous hobbies and devil-may-care-attitude, is gone. It vanished like a mask slipping off, revealing the real person underneath: a terrified, lonely girl with a bleak and heavy blankness where her heart should be.

I try to swallow down the lump, but it sticks in my throat. The last time I felt like this, I was in a hospital room, at age twelve, having lost my whole world. A few months later, I was living with strangers. Ones who weren’t always good.

Mac twists his wedding ring around on hisfinger, a habit he’s picked up since Shelby put it there. I don’t think he realizes how he lights up when he looks at that thing. He softens around the edges because he’s thinking of the person who completes his soul. I love them both so,somuch. But right now, seeing the flash of happiness on Mac’s face only makes the hollowness in my chest gape like a black hole. What they have is not for me. EverythingIlove always turns out to be a lie.

“Are you sure you can’t ride your bike again, Chris? I know the doctors said you shouldn’t race competitively anymore, but what about just for fun?”

I shake my head. “My shoulder’s unstable. I could ride around a parking lot, maybe. But the twists and turns of the dirt track, the jumps, the landings…even if I get my stability back, I could fall.”

Mac’s face slackens, and I know he sees right through me. Even though it’s just Mac, humiliation wafts off me like a bad smell.

---