Did I want him because I knew he understood me for what we carried in silence, or for who he used to be in my life?
I wondered how much all this would affect the future, knowing that under other circumstances, it wouldn't be like this. These were our closest moments, but now things were different, and I didn't know if that was better or worse for what we were trying to achieve.
"Hey," Kyle said.
"Hey," I responded, taking a bite of my granola bar. "So you already got the sling off."
"Yeah," he replied, moving his arm alittle. "It wasn’t that bad. The sling was just to keep it still for a couple of days after the fall."
"Glad it's over then," I replied, unsure of what else I could say. We used to be able to talk for hours about nothing and everything. Now we couldn’t even manage small talk without feeling forced.
He sat down across from me, running a hand through his hair. "And you? How's your week been?"
I wanted to tell him how it really had been. How I'd found myself looking for him in every hallway and every corridor of the hospital. How I'd catch myself walking past his classes, hoping to see him through a doorway. How I'd started entire conversations with him in my head, arguments, explanations, confessions I'd never have the courage to say out loud. How I'd reach for my phone a dozen times a day to text him before remembering we weren't those people who texted each other all the time anymore. How the silence between us felt heavier than any words we'd ever shared.
I wanted to tell him that every night I replayed our conversation at the park, wondering if I'd been too harsh, too guarded. That I missed having someone who understood me, especially now that he is the only person who could understand what it meant to carry adult memories in a teenage body. That sometimes, in those moments between sleep and waking, I forgot we were supposed to be strangers now.
But admitting any of that felt like handing him pieces of my heart I wasn't sure I could afford to lose again. "Weird but good,” I said instead. “Yours?"
"Same." He paused. "Any progress with Leo?"
This was the real reason we needed to talk. Our mission. The reason we were taking advantage of this inexplicable second chance. Not whatever complicated feelings still existed between us. And I needed my mind to understand that, so we wouldn’t complicate things more than they already were.
"I've been asking him about his relationship with Brandy, trying to get a sense of where they stand, but he hasn't been very responsive. Every time I bring her up, he changes the subject."
"Do you think he knows Jeremy has feelings for him and is just ignoring him?"
"Maybe. I don't know." I sighed, frustrated by my lack of progress. "What about you? Any luck with Jeremy?"
Kyle's face brightened slightly. "Things have gone a little better for me. Jeremy is a great talker once you get him going. And according to him, I'm a 'pretty boy.'" He mimicked quotation marks with his fingers.
"Well, he's not wrong." The words slipped out before I could stop them. Kyle's smile widened, and I felt my cheeks flush. This was dangerous territory. I was supposed to be keeping my distance, not complimenting him. But God, it was hard, especially having him so close to me.
"You know what I thought we could do today?" He changed the subject, and I was glad he ignored my comment because I wasn’t sure I could respond as I should.
"No, what?"
"Let's go to the park behind the church again. Ten years ago, we used to go there every time we left the hospital. Now we haven't been back since our conversation."
Under other circumstances, that would be exactly what I wanted. God, I've been thinking of excuses to get close to him myself. But I know it wouldn't be the right thing to do. It wouldn't be a good idea because things aren't like they used to be. We didn't know the things we know now. And our relationship wasn't damaged before. Going back to our special place, continuing the tradition that had once meant so much to us felt like playing with fire.
It would blur the limits between the teenagers we werepretending to be and the adults we actually were. Between the couple we'd been and whatever we were now.
"I don't know if it's a good idea..." I said slowly.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Given the circumstances we're in, we should focus our mission on fixing all the problems that can happen." I knew even as I said it that it was a weak excuse. The reality was that I was afraid that going back to that park would make me remember how much I’d loved him, how safe I'd felt with him, how complete we'd been together. And remembering all that would make it impossible to maintain the careful distance I'd been working so hard to keep.
His expression hardened. "Our situation is also a problem that needs to be fixed, Lily. You have to learn to think about yourself, too."
"I can't afford to think about myself right now. I need to fix all that needs to be fixed around me so I can be happy and finally be at peace." And that's precisely what I should be focusing on, not on myself and my conflicting feelings, but on all the people who, unconsciously, are counting on me to save them.
How could I think about my own happiness when my brother’s future was at risk? When my family's well-being depended on what I did next?
"Something that always bothers me about all this is that you act like you're the only one who lost something."
I blinked, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. "What do you mean?"
