I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the smile. These afternoon hangouts had become routine. I'd show up after my morning classes, we'd eat whatever I'd baked, and then spend hours playing games, watching movies, or just talking. Aaron thought I was being a good friend, helping his injured teammate. He had no idea how much I looked forward to these visits.
“Your turn.” Derek nudged the pile of cards toward me.
I drew a card, studied my hand, then played a Wild. “Blue.”
“Of course, blue. It's always blue with you.”
“It's a good color.”
“It's a boring color,” he teased, playing a blue seven. “You should branch out. Live dangerously. Play red sometimes.”
“I like blue.” I played a blue Skip. “It's calming.”
“You're calming,” Derek said, then seemed to realize what he'd said. His ears turned slightly pink. “I mean, hanging out with you is calming. You know what I mean.”
I did know. Because hanging out with him was the same for me, easy in a way nothing else had been since my injury. With Derek, I didn't have to pretend I was fine. I didn't have to put on the brave face I wore for everyone else.
“How's the knee?” I asked, nodding toward his elevated leg.
“Itchy. Annoying. Basically, the same as yesterday and the day before.” He played a Draw Two with entirely too much satisfaction. “Draw, sucker.”
“Rude.” I drew two cards, groaning when I saw what they were. “Physical therapy going okay?”
“It's fine. Boring. Stephanie keeps telling me I'm doing great, but it doesn't feel like it.” He shrugged. “Everything takes forever.”
“Recovery isn't linear,” I said, echoing what my own physical therapist had told me a hundred times. “Some days you'll feel amazing, some days you'll feel like you're moving backward. That's normal.”
“You sound like a therapist.”
“I had a lot of therapy.” I played a Reverse, sending the game back to him. “Physical and regular. After my surgery, I was a mess.”
Derek studied me for a moment. “You don't seem like a mess now.”
“I'm very good at faking it.” I grinned. “It's a dancer thing. We smile through everything.”
“Even terrible injuries and shattered dreams?”
“Especially those.” I kept my tone light, joking. “Can't let the audience see you sweat.”
“Well, for what it's worth,” Derek said, playing his second-to-last card with a triumphant shout. “Uno! I think you're pretty amazing. Injury or not.”
My cheeks warmed. “You're only saying that because I bring you cookies.”
“I'm saying it because it's true. The cookies are just a bonus.” He winked. “A delicious, slightly burned bonus.”
“They weren't burned!”
“The edges were definitely crispy.”
“That's called caramelization, you idiot.”
Derek threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the living room. It was so different from the broken, hollow version of him I'd met in the hospital. This Derek was coming back to himself, piece by piece.
“I'm glad you're here,” he said once his laughter subsided. “Like, really glad. I know I was kind of an ass at first…”
“Kind of?”
“Okay, a huge ass. But you kept showing up anyway. I don't know why, but I'm grateful.”
