‘Molly, the last time I remember standing on a basketball court in this centre, the building was a draughty warehouse and we couldn’t afford to replace the backboards on the basketball hoops. Now I’m looking at a state-of-the-art sports centre and it obviously started with you and that night.’ There’s unmistakable frustration in his voice and he holds himself stiffly, as if he’s angry. ‘The last thing I remember is you sulking and me feeling frustrated because I didn’t know how to help you. Fill in the gaps for me. Please.’
‘Sulking?’ I zero in on the word and it’s like a red flag to a bull. In the same breath, he’s telling me he needs me to help him remember and throwing out an insult like that. I have half a mind to leave him to figure it all out for himself. ‘What was that you were saying ten seconds ago about being an insensitive jerk?’
‘I just said “jerk”,’ he reminds me, and he offers me a slightly pleading smile. ‘You were sulking. Maybe you had a good reason to, but that’s still the right word, isn’t it?’
‘I was grieving,’ I say. I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him.
‘Okay, grieving. Sorry. Come on, sit down?’
He pushes his chair towards the bleachers without waiting for my response and I sigh and follow him. My shoes squeak on the court surface as I walk. I take a seat at the end of the bottom row of chairs and Leo parks his wheelchair in front of me.
‘So?’ he prompts.
‘You picked me up on the motorbike. It was the first time we rode together.’
That gets a reaction. He leans back in his chair and smiles at me. ‘Did you like it?’
‘Not at first,’ I say. ‘Actually, at first I was annoyed with you because you told me to wear jeans with my running shoes.’
‘Ah,’ he brightens further at this. ‘Yes, that’s familiar. Yes, I did, and you told me it was a “crime of fashion”.’
‘It was a crime of fashion,’ I laugh softly.
Leo almost squints – he’s concentrating so hard. ‘But you didn’t listen anyway,’ he says slowly, then he closes his eyes for a minute and when he opens them, his eyes are wide with surprise. ‘You were wearing heels and a skirt when I arrived to pick you up.’
‘Well, I didn’t realise you were taking me on the bike. I did get changed eventually.’
‘You sulked about that too,’ Leo says, then grimaces at my automatic glare. ‘Well, you can’t say you were grieving over being forced to wear practical clothes.’
I roll my eyes at him. ‘You took me for a ride around the city and eventually you brought me here. Do you remember now?’
‘Keep talking, I’m starting to,’ he murmurs, then chuckles suddenly, ‘Actually, I remember you squealing when we came up Cleveland Street.’
‘You were going too fast,’ I protest. ‘I thought I’d fall off.’
‘I liked how tight you held on to me when I sped up,’ he murmurs. Then, ‘Do we still ride together? On the new bike?’
I shake my head and say vaguely, ‘No, I can’t even remember the last time you took it out of storage.’
I am only half-listening to Leo for a moment – totally distracted by memories myself. Although I never lost them, they have been long buried by the creeping chaos of our life together. I suddenly remember sliding myself off his bike at the front of the gym, my legs shaky and my muscles aching, and Leo pulling off my helmet. He smoothed my helmet hair and kissed me, and told me how good it felt to hear me laugh again. I don’t think I’d ever felt quite so cared for before – the way that our feelings had entwined seemed almost mystical. When I was sad, Leo looked pensive and worried. When I smiled, he was happy – and I wanted for him to be happy even more than I wanted to feel better myself.
But then he had turned me towards the Sport and Rec Centre and from the outside the building had seemed so rundown, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go inside. There had been a group of teenagers mingling around the front doors smoking, a smashed window high on the wall, and layer after layer of graffiti on every conceivable surface. Even in the circle of Leo’s arms I was more out of place in that moment than I had ever been in my entire life.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Leo asks. I glance at him.
‘I haven’t thought about that night in years.’
‘Tell me about it,’ he reminds me gently.
‘At first, we just sat and watched a basketball game – your dad was refereeing.’
‘You were uncomfortable here, weren’t you?’
‘I was,’ I admit. ‘I was intimidated.’
Leo frowns again. ‘I remember being frustrated… Angry…’
‘I said some stupid things,’ I sigh. I can barely believe how naive I was in those days. ‘I had no idea. Just being here made me feel guilty at how easy my life had been. As soon as I walked through the door, I was trying to tell you and Drew how things should be done.’
‘Is that what this is?’ Leo asks, and he sweeps a broad arc with his hands to indicate the building we are sitting in.
I look at him blankly. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘The new buildings. Is this what happens when Molly Torrington tries to fix a broken black community?’
I gasp. That stings, and I stare at him, bewildered by the attack. ‘That is not fair, Leo.’