Page 113 of Stealing for Keeps
There’s an awkwardness between us, and I don’t know what to say to make things better. My brain is still foggy, and after last night, I don’t know what’s what anymore. I loved Vaughn. I know I did, but I know that loving someone doesn’t mean that being with them is easy.
Take my mom. I don’t understand her, and most of the time, I’m sure that she’s wildly disappointed in me, and I still love her. She doesn’t make my life easier. You can’t choose your parents or family, but you get to choose who else you let in. Why wouldn’t you choose people who make living easier instead of harder?
But I understand where he’s coming from.
“You said that the time apart had been good for you. I hoped that meant you were moving on.”
“It was good because it made me realize what a jerk I was,” he says. “Not because I moved on.”
“Oh.” I consider everything he said. How he thought we’d find our way back. How he didn’t know how to be what I needed. I’m sure I didn’t make it easy on him. I was a mess after I found out that I wouldn’t be able to skate competitively anymore.
“It would have been hard for me to hear about your awesome summer playing soccer,” I tell him honestly, “but I would have, because I care about you. My dream ended, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want you to still have yours.”
He nods, lips folding into a thin line.
Vaughn and I didn’t make things better for each other when we were a couple, but maybe eventually we can do that as friends.
“You remembered.” I lift the crackers and take out two.
“Saltine crackers and Sprite Zero,” he says, some of the tension in the room leaving. “I didn’t see any soda downstairs.”
It’s my favorite combination when I’m sick. When I was really little, my mom would pile a big stack on a plate and sit with me while I watched a movie on the couch. I can’t remember the last time she did that.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m glad you stayed.”
We fall into a more comfortable silence. Vaughn takes a seat on the floor underneath the window. I eat slowly in case it doesn’t sit well in my stomach. I haven’t had the flu in so long. I forgot how hard it hits me. I don’t get sick often, but when I do, it’s always awful. Ugh.
I lean back against the headboard and sneak another glance at Austin. I don’t remember a lot from last night after I got sick in the bathroom at his house, but I have this faint memory of him kissing my forehead and pulling my hair back into a ponytail when I said it was too hot.
“You could have told me,” Vaughn says eventually. “I think that’s what hurt the most. We used to be able to tell each other everything.” The hurt in his words makes me feel bad for not being honest.
“Would you have been okay with it?” I take another drink of water to wash the crackers down.
Instead of answering, he shakes his head. “I should go home. My dad is going to be pissed that I bailed on practice this morning.”
“You missed practice?” I ask. “I thought you had a game today.” Unless I’m still delirious from being sick.
“We do. Dad scheduled an early practice so we could walk through a few things this morning, work out the nerves before the bus ride.”
“And you missed it? Why?”
He gives me a look like “isn’t it obvious?” But in all the time we dated, Vaughn never missed practice. Not when Iwas sick, not when I got hurt, never. To have him suddenly putting me before soccer doesn’t make any sense.
“My actions haven’t always backed up my feelings. I figured if I was ever going to prove to you how I felt, it was now.”
My heart feels heavy. Here he is, giving me exactly what I wanted months ago, but my feelings have changed.
He must read the emotions on my face, because he clears his throat as he gets to his feet. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Wait, Vaughn.” I feel like there’s so much more I need to say. I swing my feet over the side of the bed. Swaying, I take a moment to steady myself. He pauses at the door and looks back at me. “I’m sorry you found out the way you did. We’ve barely talked in months, so no, I didn’t feel like I owed anything to you, but I did knowingly keep it from you. The way we ended things sucked. I was hurt, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand where you were coming from. I hope we can at least be friends eventually.”
A muscle in his jaw flexes as he continues to stare at me but doesn’t speak.
“As for Austin…you didn’t give him a lot of options. He knew telling you would impact your friendship and his role on the team. Look at what you put him through at the beginning of the year over some stupid dare. Can you really blame him for not wanting to go through that again? All that he wants is to play soccer and not let his family down. You of all people should know what that’s like.”
Movement on the bed catches my attention. Austin stretches and then opens his eyes, blinking a few times. His right eye is purple and puffy. My stomach clenches again, but this time, it’s not because I have the flu. When hisgaze locks on me, he studies me carefully, then glances to Vaughn.
“Hey.” He sits up and runs a hand through his messy hair. He looks like he’s gauging the situation carefully before he asks me, “How are you feeling?”
