CHAPTER 32
Ava
Logan spent over an hour cleaning his truck the night we got home from the hospital. The guilt I felt when I saw the mess as we drove home was overwhelming. He should have called an ambulance, but according to Macie, there was no talking him out of his decision to drive me.
By the time he came back in, it was well after midnight and he must have assumed I was asleep. He went straight to his room.
Now, several days had passed, and not much had changed between us. For some reason, I thought our moment in the ER, his declaration of his past, was a gateway to talking again.
However, I hadn’t made much of an attempt either. The hospital gave me a note to miss classes for a few days, and I took full advantage of that. Who wouldn’t? But like it had been the past couple weeks, my room had become my safe haven.
My mom had been checking in on me each day. I looked forward to our long phone calls, it filled my time. She was so upset she couldn’t come visit, but she was busy with Amelia’s sports schedule. Plus, they were getting ready for prom and graduation, which were both coming up. Trust me, she didn’t forget one detail about any of it.
The day after I got home, I heard Macie and Becca raving about how well Logan did in his first rugby game that day. We were all in the living room, and they recounted the game, almost play by play, and the scores he made, et cetera. The team had a party that night to celebrate. It took every ounce of willpower to not confront him when he got home.
Because I knew full well there were girls all over him at that party.
But I had no right.
This was my doing.
There was a knock on my bedroom door, and my heart sped up with anticipation.
“Yeah?” I put my ereader aside and sat up in my bed, running my fingers through my short locks.
“Can I come in?” Macie asked.
I knew he wouldn’t be home. Why was I disappointed?
“Sure.” I tried to sound enthusiastic.
As she came in, she was dressed to be heading out, a windbreaker over her arm, shoes on. She sat at the foot of my bed, a small smile to contradict the pinch of her concerned eyebrows.
“Whatcha doin’?” She looked around and saw that I was reading. “Reading anything good? And how’s the cut feeling?”
Looking down at my wrist, I was reminded of how serious the injury turned out to be. The glass sliced my wrist very close to a major artery. They were able to stitch me up but were close to needing to go in to surgically repair everything. They thought it was nicked deeper than it was.
Due to the location of the slice, I had to go through a psychiatric evaluation before being released. They needed to confirm I hadn’t tried to take my own life, which I understood. But it made for a really long night.
“It’s getting itchy, but that means it’s healing, doesn’t it?”
She nodded and we both smiled.
“Me and Becca are going to Logan’s game, meeting Ty there. Wanna come?”
My first instinct was to jump out of bed. I was bored, and of course I wanted to see him play. Then I thought it might send the wrong message if he saw me there.
However, over the past few days, I think I realized that the message I wanted to send him was very different now than what I originally thought.
“Can you give me a few minutes to get ready? I’d love to come.”
Her smile grew wide, and she did that happy, giddy hand clap she always does.
“Yay! I’m so excited! We’ll be downstairs waiting, take your time,” she said.
“OK.”
OK. I was doing this. Logan’s game. I was going to his game. Though he would probably have no idea I was even there. We’d be up in the stands, he’d be on the field. He’d have no clue. I was simply supporting my roommate in his new venture.
