by KK Bauer
“Now tell me, what would you two like to accomplish this week? It can be something small, if you’d like,” Liz says kindly, her glasses riding low on her nose.
I glance at Kellan and think about what I want. Kellan figures it out before me.
“I would like to be able to sleep for more than five hours straight without waking up.”
“Good, that’s a good goal. What if you don’t reach it this week?” She ponders.
He just shrugs and says, “It would just be another week, then. No different than now.”
“And if you do accomplish it, then what will the reward be?”
He furrows his eyebrows and looks at Liz. “Wouldn’t sleeping through the night be the reward?”
Liz laughs and shakes her head. “Well, yes, in a roundabout way. But you need to reward yourself for reaching that goal. Think about it while I ask Aubrey.” She turns in her chair to face me head on. “What did you come up with?”
“I don’t know. Everything I want seems so… monumental, I don’t think just a week will help.”
“That’s good. We can make long-term goals here, too. It doesn’t have to do with the accident, it can be school related, or relationship related. Anything.” That is what we call it now, the accident. She leans forward and cups her hands together, her elbows resting on her knees. She has a run in her black hose along the side of her ankle just above her pleather shoes.
“Well, I’d like to be able to have a normal conversation with someone in my class.”
“Will you elaborate for me?”
I frown and continue, “It’s just that, everyone at school either talks to me about the accident or not at all. I haven’t had an actual conversation with any of my old friends since, aside from Kellan.”
Liz nods a few times and smiles. “Fantastic goal, Aubrey. I think one of the reasons you are so consumed with the accident is because that is all that surrounds you. In addition to your goal, I want you to find something else that has nothing to do with the accident. You can find a sport- like Kellan, or maybe a book club? You told me you like to read.”
“Okay. I can do that,” I say.
A few hours later, while Kellan is at practice, I go online and search for local book clubs. There are a few and I find one that meets the first Monday of the month. I send out an email, begin internet browsing, and within thirty minutes my computer dings with the notification of a new email.
Aubrey, we would love to have you join our club! We just started reading “Room” by Emma Donahue and I think if you start ASAP, you can be done in time to participate in the discussion. We meet in the library on the first Monday of each month. I hope you can make it and if you need to reach me, my contact information is below. Looking forward to reading with you, Shirley.
She seems nice. I like her. I walk to the student library and peruse the shelves looking for the book. I find it and read the synopsis and tuck it under my armpit. It usually takes me less than two weeks to finish a book with all the free time I have, so I look around and grab another book. I decide on a lighthearted romance to try and keep my spirits up.
Plus, maybe reading about sex will help me with my anxiety about it. On my way home I get that feeling, the one where someone is watching you. I casually look around but everyone around me is oblivious to little me. I quicken my step as my heart speeds up, the unease thickening at every step. Normally, this feeling doesn’t freak me out much. But the fact that Carlos and Andres are still on the run gives me the heebie-jeebies.
By the time I am a block from my apartment I am running full speed. The patches of ice on the sidewalk make this extremely difficult and before I know it my ass is throbbing and wet and the palms my hands are scraped up. I peer left to right to see if anyone saw my clumsiness and pick myself back up. I snatch the books off of the ground and wipe the flecks of snow from the covers, analyzing the damage.
I go straight to my bathroom to wash my hands and rub Neosporin on the abrasions. I hear my phone chiming in the living room where I threw my bag. I sprint around the corner, leap over my pile of shoes in the middle of the hallway and dive for my bag. In the process I stub my toe on the couch and I tumble to the floor in pain. Needless to say the phone has stopped ringing and when I grab it and see that I missed Kellan’s phone call I mumble nonsense and call him back.
“Hey, just got out of practice. Are you at home?” He asks. He sounds out of breath and I can hear a bunch of guys in the background goofing off.
I hold my phone with the tips of my fingers, careful not to touch it with my medicine-covered palms. “Yeah, I just got home myself. I went to the library and on the way back I beat myself up.”
He chuckles into the receiver and asks, “Do I want to know?”
“Oh, you’ll see it. All that is missing is a head injury, but the night is still young.”
“So, you’re fine with me coming over? There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He sounds hesitant, like he doesn’t want to have whatever conversation we are about to have. “It’s not important or anything, I just need to ask you something,” he adds quickly.
“Um, yeah, sure. I’ll be here.” We hang up and my brain works double overtime to get an idea of what he wants. I sit on the couch and with my leg up and knee pressed against my chest, I lean forward and examine my stubbed toe. I can see a little purple bruise begin to form under my toenail and I press on it only to hiss in pain. Idiot.
Kellan trots into the door a few minutes later with his equipment bag in one hand and a half empty bottle of Gatorade in the other. The bag barely clears the door when he drops it and a thud echoes through the room. He puts one hand on the back of the couch and flawlessly hurdles over it and lands in a plop beside me.
He unscrews the lid to his drink and presses the mouth of it to his lips and tips his head back. I watch as his throat works to gulp the red beverage down, until the last drop is consumed. He wipes his Gatorade mustache off with the back of his hand and leans back into the couch.
“How was practice?” I ask, though I know it was no different than the last few days. Calisthenics, sprints, more calisthenics, more sprinting… it’s a wonder he didn’t collapse the first few days.
He shrugs one shoulder and stares down at his empty bottle. “More of the same. I did talk to Corey today.” I whip my head to face him and wait for him to elaborate.
“About what?” I whisper.
“You.”
“Kellan you really need to stop that. Just tell me.”
He keeps eying his Gatorade bottle like it will magically become full again. “He didn’t cheat on you. Those girls just spread the rumor hoping you’d break up with him, and you did.”
I stare at Kellan and wonder why he’s so distressed about that. “Okay,” I drawl out. “And?”
Finally he pivots and looks at me. “He’s not over you. He still loves you and he’s probably going to call you and want to talk about everything.” He immediately straightens up and stares at the bottle again.
“Huh.” I chew on my lip and ponder that for a second. I did have fun with Corey, but it was nothing compared to how I am with Kellan now, and we aren’t even dating. The poor guy is squirming around on my couch just waiting for me to jump for joy at the fact that my ex-boyfriend wants me back. “Why did you tell me?”
“I wanted you to know the truth. He didn’t do anything wrong, so he deserves a second chance with you.”
“No he doesn’t.”
He does a double take. “What?”
“He had the chance to get me back. He could have proven himself then, but instead he pouted for, like, a day and started living the single, bachelor lifestyle. Plus, I don’t want him back. That won’t change, no matter what I know.” Kellan moves so he is completely facing me and cups my cheek with his hand.
“Aubrey, I-“ He starts, but my phone rings, buzzing on the coffee table. Of course, it’sCorey. I smile at Kellan and lift my finger in a ‘one moment’ gesture. When I answer, Corey�
��s voice does nothing to me like it used to.
“AJ, hey, beautiful. How’ve you been?”
I shrug even though I know he can’t see me. “Pretty shitty, actually. But I’m getting better. What did you need?”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about… us. What do you think? Can I come over or something?” There is a sense of urgency and pleading in his voice.
“What do you mean, us? There is no us,” I say boldly. I’ve never talked back to him like that before and I can tell he is stunned.
“I know, but I was hoping… there’s so much I need to tell you. Are you sure I can’t come over? It would be so much easier face to face.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so, Corey. Kellan’s over and we-“
“Kellan! Kel McCabe? He said you guys were just friends,” Corey seethes in the phone. Hearing what Kellan said to Corey about being just friends hurts a little. “I can’t believe he would do this to me. What a fucking prick!”
I see Kellan flinch, and I know he can hear what Corey is saying. “Hey, he did nothing to you. There is nothing going on between you and me anymore, Corey. It’s over, it has for a while. I don’t know why you are so upset at Kellan, he did nothing wrong.”
“Bullshit. I told him that stuff about you in confidence and he backstabbed me and used it to his advantage.”
“Whatever. I’m done with this conversation, Corey. It really doesn’t matter what Kellan told me, I have no interest in getting back together with you. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at Kellan, this is my decision and he has nothing to do with said decision.” Actually he has everything to do with my decision, but Corey doesn’t need to know that.
“Fine. Bye, AJ. I’ll see you around some time.”
“You probably won’t. Bye, Corey.” I set my phone back down on the coffee table and before I can apologize, Kellan crushes his lips to mine.
18
Kellan
I don’t know what came over me. It must have been a deadly mixture of my intense workout at practice, Aubrey’s low cut teal sweater, and the fact that she just told off her ex and defended me. I collide into her and push her onto her back and cover her body with mine. At first she is kissing me back with equal enthusiasm but in an instant she pushes me off.
“What are we doing, Kellan?” she asks breathlessly.
“Um, we were kissing, but now we are just talking about it, which is a little awkward.”
“No, not literally. What are we doing? You told Corey we are just friends but then you jump me like that, and people don’t do that who are just friends,” she says those words like they are venom in her mouth.
“I don’t know. What do you want?” I need to know she wants me just as much as I want her. There are times when I can see it, and others when I think she wants nothing more than friendship.
She sighs heavily and drops her arms to her sides. “I’m not sure. Sometimes I miss my life before I met you. When it was less complicated and less messed up.” Ouch. Talk about a knife to the chest. She sees me shrink away and recovers. “No, I don’t regret meeting you or anything. I just, there are times when I wonder what if I didn’t go on the trip, ya know? I mean, I’d be missing out on you, but then all the other shit wouldn’t be here. It’s complicated,” she frowns and collapses into the couch with her arms across her chest and her chin down.
I know that she won’t make the first move. She is waiting on me to sweep her off her feet and be the best damn boyfriend ever. But I don’t think I can give that to her. I usually screw up in situations like this, and this time I know it would crush us both if – when - I did. So I decide to compromise.
“Okay, so how about we do this. I enjoy spending time with you, Aubrey. I don’t want to stop hanging out with you, I don’t even want to stop kissing you. How about we just keep it the way it is. It’s worked so far, right?”
She is chewing on her thumbnail and for the first time since I got here I see the scrapes on her hands and the gloss of Neosporin over them. “Is there a word for the way we are? You aren’t my boyfriend, and it seems wrong to call you just my friend.” She is right. Whenever I tell anyone she is my ‘friend’ it feels like a kick in the balls. But I don’t know how to explain it to her. Normally if I’m ever in an awkward “relationship” with a girl, they either never bring titles up or if they do, they hit the curb after I kick them out. I’m definitely not kicking her out of my life, but I decide to not talk about it anymore.
So I defer the situation and focus on her hands. “Did this happen on your way home?” I ask and grab her hands gently, lightly rubbing my fingers over the scratches on her skin.
She nods and lifts her leg, basically shoving her foot into my face. “Baby toe, stubbed it trying to get to your call. I also busted my ass pretty good outside, when I scraped up my hands. Fell on the ice. My butt probably is a couple different colors by now.”
“I can check that for you,” I joke, giving her a smirk and a wink.
She stands and unbuttons her jeans, sliding them down to her mid-thigh. She rotates her upper body and with her fingers, lifts the part of her underwear that is covering her ass. “Well?” She asks, after I’ve thoroughly checked out her butt, which is perfect.
“Just a little red,” I choke out. “You really just mooned me, you know.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Well, considering we’ve seen each other go to the bathroom before and were forced to take showers together, this doesn’t seem so bad.”
I have nothing to reply to that. It’s true; our boundaries are all screwed up. When she sits back down I lean in and kiss her temple. We don’t bring up the accident anymore except when we are in therapy. We both know that they are out there somewhere hiding, possibly coming for us. The unfortunate thing about having a unique name is it is easier to find that person.
The first day we were taken, Aubrey told them her full name and that she is from St. Louis. They only knew my first name then, but they looked through my wallet later that night. My parent’s address is still on it, but it isn’t hard to find me. I’m on the university’s baseball website. You Google my name and my Facebook and all my stats from previous years pop up first thing.
I feel like I worry for nothing, it has to be impossible to cross the border when you are a criminal, right?
“I think I’m getting better,” Aubrey states optimistically. “Yesterday I went to the grocery store and was able to do all my shopping without freaking out on anybody. I even walked down the aisle with the macaroni and cheese.” She is smiling, which warms me from the inside out.
“Fabulous!” Liz exclaims. “Now how did your weekly goals go?” She turns her head back and forth to look at each of us. Today she is wearing a deep purple button up shirt with a black shirt underneath, and khaki pleated pants. “Aubrey, why don’t you go first?”
“Okay. Well, I sort of achieved it. I couldn’t call her, so I sent her a text message.”
“Baby steps, sweetheart. That’s good, really good. Now that you did that, I want your goal for next week to be to call her, and actually talk to her.” What Liz doesn’t know is it took Aubrey almost an hour to type out that text for MJ and finally hit send. When MJ sent one back, she didn’t respond.
The first week Liz asked us to set weekly goals, it kind of worked so she has been making us do one each week ever since. I managed to sleep a whole night without waking up, so did Aubrey. That was the best night. We both woke up smiling. The next week Aubrey bought macaroni and cheese from the union on campus. Granted, it looked and tasted nothing like the boxed, but Liz just said ‘baby steps’ then and congratulated her.
“And you, Kellan?” Liz looks at me expectantly.
I let out a huge breath. My goal was lofty, and extremely excruciating. “I called him.”
“And how did it go?”
I see Aubrey beside me chewing on the inside of her cheek and fidgeting with her hands. She knows how the story about my father goes. “Well, when I called he was in a busines
s meeting and hung up on me. But he called me back later and when I told him I wanted to talk about the accident, he blew up at me. He told me that I should have handled it differently and that I failed Aubrey.” I glance at her and back at my feet.
“Kellan, you didn’t fail her. You got her out, like you promised. Sure, some shit happened between, but you still did it.” That is the first time Liz cursed in front of us, and I hear Aubrey stifle a giggle. “Everybody, including your father, is extremely proud of you and how you handled everything. Not many peoplewould have made it. Your father just has a weird way of showing it. He is hurting, too. He could have lost his son. He just doesn’t know how to manage his emotions, Kellan.”
I just nod. I can’t agree with her but I won’t disagree with her just for an argument.
“Do you have a new goal?” She asks me.
“Yeah.” But when I don’t tell her, she raises her eyebrows. I frown and point to Aubrey with my eyes. She gets the hint, thank God.
“Actually, let’s split up for this one. Aubrey, could you go into the hall for a few moments? I will come get you when we’re done in here.” Aubrey nods and exits the room, the door clicking faintly behind her. “Okay, Kellan. Shoot.”
“I’m not really sure if this is a good goal or not, or if it even matters. But, I want to figure out what’s going on between Aubrey and me. We’re in this, middle ground, and both of us are afraid to take the step. We started to talk about it a couple weeks ago, and I said I thought we should just stay the way we were. But, we haven’t been the same since and it’s bugging me.” I let in a deep breath after spilling out everything.
Liz just sits there and stares at me for a moment. “You know, Kellan, I don’t really specialize in relationship therapy. I do think that your relationship with Aubrey and the accident are correlated, and if you two figure out whatever needs to be figured out, then I think it is a step in the right direction for what we are trying to accomplish here.” She gives me a weak smile. “So your goal is to make a decision on your relationship? Is that what you were trying to say?”
