“But you’re not,” I said, worry twisting in the pit of my stomach. Something mustreallyhave been up with him. I wanted to know what it was. I wanted to help. “You’re limping.”
His glare turned venomous.
“You think I don’t know?” he asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but it came out a low hiss, his jaw tight. “I’m always limping. I always will limp. I can’t do anything about it except try to get back into good enough shape not to rot in obscurity for the rest of my life. I’mfine.”
A tiny hand curled around the leg of my jeans.
Benji.
I glanced down at him and found him looking up at me, worry written all over his little face.
Felix must’ve noticed him at that moment, too, because he got as far assh—before cutting himself off.
A beat passed in silence, Benji looking between the two of us. His lower lip wasn’t quite trembling, but it was one harsh word away from it.
Felix took a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“I’m… sorry,” he said. “I’m not good company right now. I’ll…” He gestured in the opposite direction. “See you next class.”
I took Benji’s hand as we both watched Felix walk off, back straight and walking so stiffly it mademyleg hurt.
“Coop?” Benji asked, voice tiny.
I crouched down so I’d be eye level with him.
“Felix is in a lot of pain,” I said. I wasn’t sure Benji had that figured out yet, and even if he had, he didn’t really understand the concept of being ina lot of painfor any length of time the way Felix was. I’d hurt my back once, and I remembered how frustrating the two-week recovery was. Felix had been dealing with this for a lot longer than two weeks. It was a miracle he didn’t snap at everyone all the time.
I also remember how annoyed I’d gotten when people kept asking if I was okay. Ihadjust wanted to help, but maybe I ought to have known better.
“You know how you get cranky when you’ve got a cold?” I asked, remembering a grumpy little Benji telling me to go away in the saddest raspy voice when he’d gotten sick the week before Christmas.
Benji nodded.
“It’s like that,” I said. “You didn’t mean to hurt me, and Felix didn’t mean to hurt either of us. He’s just cranky because he’s uncomfortable. Okay?”
Benji nodded again, biting his lip.
“Can we help?” he asked.
Of course he did. He was the best kid in the whole world, and he adored Felix.
“I think we have to leave him alone,” I said. “And I know he wouldn’t want to ruin your afternoon. So I think the best thing we can do for him is forgive him and go play. Sound good?”
Benji’s nod this time wasn’t as enthusiastic as it could’ve been, but by the time we reached the park and he ran off to meet the rest of his friends, he seemed to have recovered.
That made one of us.
17
FELIX
“What’s this?”Amelia asked, peering into the brown paper bag I’d handed her. The sky had been overcast when I’d woken up this morning—after a thunderstorm on Sunday—but now there was a single beam of sunlight streaming through the studio kitchenette window, drawing a line between me and her on the tile floor.
“Iggy tells me they’re lavender cream-filled Earl Grey-infused doughnut balls,” I said. They were about the size of a golf ball each, rolled in sugar, and they smelled amazing. “He promised me you’d like them. The blondies are off the menu.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow.
“It’s also an apology?” I offered, passing her the coffee with her name on it. I’d since learned her new order was a latte with a shot of both caramel and hazelnut syrup in it.
