He was sitting next to Abbi, as quiet as I’d ever seen him. He’d changed, too. He wasn’t loud and in everyone’s faces like he used to be. He still played ball, and I heard Abbi telling Dary during lunch this week, before Keith sat down, that he’d gotten reprimanded during the game last week for getting too rough on the field.
Right now his dark head was bowed, and every so often, he leaned toward her and whispered something to her and she’d respond.
Were they together?
I didn’t know.
I hadn’t asked.
Sebastian shifted closer, his knee pressing into mine. His voice was low as he asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and forced a smile. “Just tired.”
His eyes searched mine, and I knew he didn’t believe me, and I knew I would probably hear about it later.
“Are you going to work at Joanna’s this weekend, since you’re not going to have a game or anything?” Dary asked.
I shook my head. “Um, no. Normally I wouldn’t, because of volleyball.”
“So you’re going to go to the away game this weekend?”
I shook my head no again. Coach had given me space last week, but I knew that wouldn’t last much longer. He expected me to show up today.
“Wow.” Dary pushed her glasses up as she looked across the table. “I cannot think of a weekend when you didn’t have a game and weren’t working at Joanna’s.”
“Yeah.” I watched Sebastian cut his roasted or baked chicken in half. He cut it up into slivers. “They’ve all been really understanding. They’ve been really good.”
“Who?” Dary asked.
I cleared my throat. “Coach—Coach has been really understanding.”
Sebastian took the pieces he cut up and unloaded them onto my salad. My eyes widened. Did he seriously just cut up my food like I was a two-year-old? “There,” he said. “Now your salad appears to be almost edible.”
“Still not fried,” commented Dary, grinning. “But that is possibly the sweetest thing I’ve witnessed in a very long time.”
It was so ridiculous.
But it was sweet, because I knew it came from a good place.
The corners of my lips turned up as I reached for the fork.
“Are we having to hand-feed Lena now?” Abbi asked.
My head shot up as heat burned my cheeks. Abbi was staring at me, one eyebrow raised.
“Come again?” Sebastian said.
Abbi shrugged a shoulder as her gaze flickered to Sebastian. “I mean, she has to be driven to school. Can’t go anywhere by herself. We have to watch what we say around her. So, I’m just wondering if we have to hand-feed her, too?”
I froze. Heart. Lungs. Brain. Everything.
“What the hell, Abbi?” Sebastian’s voice sharpened.
Across from me, the hard look on Abbi’s face cracked a little, only a fissure. Her voice was hoarse. “I just think it’s a valid question and I can’t be the only one wondering it.”
“Abbi,” Keith said, speaking loud enough for me to hear for the first time at lunch. “Come on.”
Dary stiffened beside me.
“What? She’s an adult, right?” Abbi swallowed. Her lower lip trembled as her gaze met mine again. “She can’t speak up for herself? Can’t step in and stop this?”
Flinching as if I’d taken a gut punch, I knew exactly what she was referencing. She wasn’t talking about this conversation. She was talking about that night.
And I was done.
Standing, I reached down and grabbed my bag off the floor. I heard Sebastian say my name, but I didn’t stop. Straightening, I stepped back from the table and turned without saying all the words burning through my skin.
I hurried out of the cafeteria, mouth clamped shut so I didn’t lose it. I had no idea if losing it meant screaming in rage or having a complete meltdown.
I made it halfway down the hall before Dary caught up to me, grabbing my good arm. “Hey, hold up,” she said, forcing me to stop. “Are you okay?”
My gaze flipped to the ceiling. “I’m fine and I’m pretty sure Abbi’s head would spin right off her shoulders if she heard you ask me that.”
“Abbi is just being—”
“A bitch?” I finished for her, and then immediately felt bad. Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “No. That’s not right. She’s just...”
“She’s just having a hard time dealing with everything.” Dary squeezed my arm. “But she wasn’t being nice in there.”
I knocked the hair off my face as I glanced back at the mouth of the cafeteria. “Has she told you anything?”
“About what?”
“About me and that night—Keith’s party.”
Dary dropped her hand. “She told me about you and Sebastian kind of arguing and some stuff about her and Keith.” She paused. “Why?”
Obviously Abbi hadn’t talked to her about me. “I was just wondering.”
“Is there something I should know about that night?” she asked.
Now. Now I could tell her what Abbi knew and she would know why Abbi was so upset. But when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t find the words.
A moment passed and Dary dropped her arm around my shoulders. “Everything is going to be okay again. I know it doesn’t seem that way right now, but it will. It has to be.”
I didn’t answer, because I knew just because you wanted something so badly to be okay didn’t mean it would be that way.
Dary rested her forehead against the side of my head. “I just want things to go back to the way they were before,” she whispered. “We can’t get Megan back—we’ll never get her back—but we’ll get ourselves back. I believe that. I really do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Monday was literally one of those days that just wouldn’t curl up and die.
By the time the last bell rang and I walked to my locker, I was already done with the day, and when I saw Coach Rogers striding toward me, I wanted to shove myself into my locker.
Stringing together an atrocity of F-bombs, I shoved my Chem book in and hoped that he wasn’t coming to see me. That he was just out for a lazy afternoon stroll through the hallways, lulled by the sound of slamming metal doors and loud conversations.
I was pulling out my History text when I heard Coach say my name—my full name, because of course, it was going to be one of those days.
“Hey,” I answered, shoving my text into my bag.
“You heading to practice?” he asked, stopping beside me.
Wishing I was far away from here, because I was so not ready for this conversation, I shook my head as I zipped up my bag.
“I know you can’t practice with those injuries, but I really want you at the practices, Lena,” he said, and without even looking at him, I knew he folded his arms. “It would be good for you—for the team.”
“I know, but...” I swallowed as I closed my locker door. “I can’t.”
“Are you not medically cleared to sit on a bench?” he replied, and I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.
Seeing the relatively bland expression, I was going to go with a nope. “I’m sure I’m allowed, but I’m...I’m not going to do the volleyball thing anymore.”
His dark brows lifted. “You’re quitting the team?”
Feeling my stomach sink, I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry, but with these injuries and getting caught up with school, it’s just the best thing for me.”