Page 101 of Nailing Heat
“Hey Amelia, I’m here to take you to practice,” Cassie calls as she makes her way back the hallway.
“I think I could try and drive myself. It’s not the right foot. It’s not my driving foot,” I remind her.
“I know it is, but I thought it might be nice to ride to practice together.” She looks around the room. “Why are you cleaning this? I thought August volunteered to have someone come and clean the room.”
I look around the empty room, and I can still picture where his things were. “I know he did but I have it. This keeps me busy.”
She eyes me for a second and then walks over the dresser. Swiping a finger on it, she checks for dust. “Looks pretty clean to me. And if I remember correctly it’s been clean for a while. Youare nothing if not consistent with your cleaning schedule. What’s really going on here?”
I look at her. “No dust proves nothing.”
“No, it doesn’t. But I’m pretty sure when we all came over a few days ago, you had finished cleaning it, remember?” She places her hands on her hips and eyes me carefully. “We were supposed to help you, but you did it all by yourself.”
“Oh yeah, that,” I say waving her off.
“So why are you still Swiffering? The floor wasn’t that dirty to begin with, I would imagine.”
“Just being thorough is all.” I say, trying to deflect.
“Want to tell me what’s wrong and try telling me the truth this time?” she asks.
I get ready to say nothing is wrong, but I take one look at her, and I stop. Cassie is standing there, hands on her hips, her eyes boring into me, waiting for me to spout more bullshit. “I think it still smells like him in here.” I shrug and look away from her.
I feel her arms around me, pulling me towards her and I let her. “Oh honey, I’m not sure I smell him in here. I think your mind is playing tricks on you, sweetie. I only smell the cleaner; rather strongly actually. Should we get you out of here? You might be inhaling some of the fumes.”
I laugh and pull back from her. “I don’t think so, but okay.”
“Come on, honey, let’s get you to practice. It might make you feel better to be outside for a bit. Plus, I hear you have some physical therapy that you are supposed to be working on.”
“Yep, thankfully, Lucas got the plan from Dex, so hopefully I can count on it being accurate,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“I’m pretty sure that he would not do that to you. He wants you to get better,” Cassie reminds me.
“Why, have you talked to him?” I ask her, my eyebrows shooting up. I can feel the hope spring up in my chest.
“No, honey, I haven’t. Would you like to talk to him? Because you could start with something small like helping you withexercises and see how that goes.” She watches me for a moment. “It would be a totally logical question to ask him. No one would suspect a thing.”
“No, I’ll be alright with Lucas,” I tell her glumly.
“I’m sure he’d be happy to help you,” she winks at me.
I shake my head. “No, I need to get over this. And I will. It’s going to take some time.”
“Alright, well, let’s get you to practice. I don’t want to be late and have to run for it. I’d make you run the laps but that would not go so hot,” she teases me.
“No, it sure would not. I mean, I could try it on crutches if Watts insisted,” I tease her.
“That would get him fired so fast. August would like to have his head or something,” Cassie says, laughing. “He’s actually pretty considerate of us. More involved than anyone thought he would be.”
“He is,” I agree, but add, “Don’t let Hendrix hear you say something positive about him. She’ll straight rip your head off for it.”
“Right? She’s still so angry at him. I wish I knew how to help her, you know? Make it easier for her to move on. I even suggested she try dating someone, but that didn’t go over well. She reminded me that she was in season and had to focus.”
“But you and Mac started dating in season and your focus is just fine,” I say, shaking my head.
“I think it’s simply a diversion of some kind. Either way, I wish we could find a way to help her let go a little bit.” Cassie holds open my door, and I do my best to hobble past her without hitting her with a crutch. “Careful on the stairs,” she warns.
“I know what you mean. I’m always worried she’s going to take it too far and then he’ll snap,” I say, carefully grabbing the banister to get myself down the stairs.
