Page 75 of Missed Steps
“How gruelling,” Louis adds.
“How much more interestingtheir course is.”
We both laugh as Louis snags a spare volleyball and strides away from me. I swallow hard, testing out a stance and find that it’s not toouncomfortable. A bit stiff. I don’t have the mobility to really squat down into a perfect stance, but a half-one is doable. Louis passes the ball my way, and I dig it back. A few passes and it’s easy. Even taking a step to one side and passing is okay.
Mark makes his way over to my side. I grin at him, pleased with myself.
“Eddie isn’t here,” Mark says.
“So?”
“So if I stand right behind you while you’re squatting down, will you get mad?”
“Mark,” I redden as I swipe him away.
Mark chuckles, advancing rather than dodging, taking the hit to his stomach as he drapes an arm over my shoulders. “I’m serious. I’ve not gotten to see you doing squats in months. I’ve been deprived.”
“You’ve seen me in far more compromising positions than a squat the past few weeks.” Last night, even. Mark keeps his voice low as he teases, and there’s this openness to him, this playfulness that makes my blood sing. I want to match it.
“Join me for a few passes?” I add.
“Sure. Will you get mad if I kiss your cheek?”
I pause, considering the question. Will I? Eddie isn’t here, and even if he was, I hope that I could push through to be like this with Mark. A couple. Open and flirting. There’s this new sense of closeness after last night. Mark’s unbridled affection released something in me.
I catch his elbow, leaning in to press a peck on his mouth.
My heart races as I lean back. Mark’s hand goes to his mouth as he stares at me wide-eyed. The surprise slowly fades from his expression, and he lowers his hand to reveal a smile. One that’s soft, gentle. A smile I can see shining in his eyes.
Mark leans in, kissing my cheek. “You’re killing me, babe,” he whispers. And he then trots away, forming a triangle with me and Louis. I discreetly check Louis’s expression, but he’s totally unfazed by what he just witnessed. I release a long breath, my niggle of anxiety going with it.
I kissed him. In the open. In front of people.
And the world isn’t ending. And it isn’t going to, either.
I pass for close to thirty minutes before I stiffen up. I can feel a small tinge in my knee, and I realize Mark notices.
“I’m going to call it here,” I say, beating Mark to the punch. “I’ll go grab some drinks.”
I take the chance as I walk to stretch out, meandering my way to the vending machine in the hallway. I check both directions to make sure the hallway is empty before stretching properly. I’m through half a routine when footsteps approach and I straighten up.
“Kyle,” he says.
I turn. “Chris? What are…” my voice dies. Abject horror crawls up my throat in a steady, unstoppable march. The man is too tall to be Chris. Too gaunt. Too rough-looking. Too cruel and horrible. My heart stutters, then beats so fast I can’t distinguish between one beat and the next, can only hear a roar. The march has reached my ears.
“Kyle,” he says again.
I startle back, flinching away from his outstretched arm. He snatches my wrist.
“We haven’t talked in a while, huh? How have you been?”
“Let go of me! Let go—”
“Don’t be a little shit,” he hisses, squeezing my wrist until it hurts. “You’re not a baby. Don’t act like it.”
My mouth seals shut. Thoughts hyper-focus on nothing but horror; of my life ruined, of everything so overwhelming and awful I couldn’t leave my room.
He rubs his mouth, eyes sparkling in annoyance. “Now,” he speaks calmly again. “I need a favour.”
