Page 12 of Missed Steps
Like I said, no point in arguing. “I look forward to seeing you,” I tell him. Despite the apprehension, I mean it. I’ve missed Chris. “I have a new apartment. I’ll text you the address. And I’d better let you go. I’m still at the library and don’t want to get in trouble for talking.”
“Call me later if you’re not too tired. Storm will hit tomorrow and I won’t have coverage.”
“Will do. Love you, Chris.”
I return to my desk and pack up.
Chapter Five
I leave the library to find a party. I draw up short as I spot the guys gathered around the bench—the metal one Mark helped me to only a day ago. At a glance, I recognise everyone from the volleyball team, two of them as former friends that haven’t spoken to me since the semester started—Tommy and Louis—and also Mark and Eddie.
Lovely.
Everyone looks at me. I give my best, ambiguously aimed nod, and burn with embarrassment as I walk by them on crutches. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. Losing a leg wasn’t a personal failing, or something that I could help. But feelings win the mind-over-matter battle, and my throat is tight.
“Kyle,” Louis calls. “What happened?”
It’s the first time any of my former friends have acknowledged my existence. Though, to be fair to Louis, I’ve seen him try to approach me several times only to be dragged away by Tommy. Despite wanting to get out of everyone’s line-of-sight as fast as humanly possible, I pause to answer.
“Slipped on the ice yesterday,” I tell him.
Tommy, the guy I was closest to the past two years, watches me silently from Louis’s side. I avoid eye contact with him, focusing only on Louis. I’m aware of Mark’s gaze.
“Ah, damn,” Louis winces in sympathy. “You going to be healed for the tournament next week? We were talking about our positions. If we have Mark setting and you spiking, we’ll for sureget to the finals.”
I’m looking at Louis, and my throat tightens. A lot. It’s tears, or a sob, or something trying to get out. The innocent question hits me way too hard. “Nah,” I say, my voice gravelly. I turn away, blinking hard. “See you around.”
“See you!” Louis calls after me.
A few steps and my back is to everyone, and I feel a little better now that my face isn’t visible. Wishing the bus stop wasn’t in view of the group, I stand with my back to them. Thankfully, the bus comes quickly and I get on. It’s almost empty, and I snag a seat near the exit. I’m not about to cry anymore. I’m not upset by Louis. I’m upset because I want to play and I can’t. And even if I can work up to it over the years, it’ll never be here and now with the guys.
As we pull away, someone sits next to me. I manoeuvre to get my crutches out of the way, but he grabs them.
“They’re fine there.”
I look at Mark in surprise. Why is he…? Ah, yes. He’s probably following up after that display. That’s very nice of him. I employ strong mind-over-matter techniques not to get embarrassed. Mark’s dark eyes focus on me.
“It’s hard to talk about,” I say. “Louis doesn’t know. He wasn’t being insensitive or anything.”
Mark nods his understanding.
I don’t ask why he’s on the bus, since it’s pretty obvious I’m the reason. He gets up at my stop and helps me get comfortable on the crutches. He then walks me to the elevator, hits the button, and walks me right to my door. He leans against the wall as I’m unlocking it, his hands buried in his pockets. The door clicks open and he straightens up.
“See you tomorrow,” he says, walking back toward the elevator.
“Wait,” I call.
Mark does, looking over his shoulder at me.
“I’ll give you money for a taxi.”
Mark waves me off, continues on his path, “No.”
“How about some tea, then?” I say next. I figured he’d turn down the taxi.
This time, Mark stopsandturns to me. He eyes me before nodding. “Okay. Tea.”
Inside the apartment, he sets his hand against the small of my back. “Sit down. I’ll make it.”
