The Next Chapter of Luke

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The Next Chapter of Luke Page 17

by Jenny O'Connell


  “That’s a good thing, right?” Emily’s voice was more optimistic than mine.

  As we passed the back patio, I glanced through the screen door into the kitchen to see if anyone was home, but the glare from the sun made it impossible to see inside. We kept walking. “Sure, but only if PT works.”

  When we reached the boathouse, Emily went inside first and I followed. I’d been hoping we’d have at least another hour alone before Charlie brought the girls back. The last time Emily was here, there was all the stuff with Sam, and then Emily was insisting she had to catch the ferry back; by the time we got past all the distractions and I convinced her to stay, it was like we had to reset our entire day and start over. I didn’t want that to happen again by letting all this talk about my knee put my head in a place that was anywhere but with Emily.

  “How often will you go to PT?” Emily asked, taking a seat next to me on the sofa.

  “Two times a week to start. I’m going on Sam’s days off so she can drive me.” Her name came out before I could stop it, and I waited for Emily’s reaction.

  “Well, the sooner you start, the sooner you can get better, right?” Emily didn’t flinch or even blink at the mention of Sam, which I took as a good sign that she’d decided to forget about the kitchen incident.

  I could have gone on—told Emily that Melanie had asked Sam to take me because Charlie already had one traffic ticket for blowing through the stop sign on Cooke Street, and she was threatening to make Charlie pay for his own car insurance. I’m not quite sure how he’d do that considering he’d earned all of twenty bucks all summer by walking their neighbor’s dog for a weekend, but Melanie had pretty much banned Charlie from taking the car more than a mile from the house. I knew the only reason Charlie even had the keys to the SUV today was Emily. Melanie had no problem punishing Charlie for a $155 ticket, but she didn’t want to make me suffer, too.

  But I stopped short of telling Emily why Sam had been assigned to chauffeur me to physical therapy sessions, because even though she didn’t act like it bothered her, I knew that the less we talked about Sam, the better.

  Emily reached for my legs and swung them over her knees, laying them across her lap. She ran her hand along my brace, tracing each screw and hinge with her fingers. “This thing is pretty serious.”

  “It’s all mine for the next six weeks.” I knocked my knuckles against the brace, the aluminum absorbing the sound with a dull thud.

  “You sound so bummed.” Emily slowly moved her hand up the length of the brace and over my shorts, until it rested under my T-shirt, against my waistband. “What can I do to make you smile?”

  I knew she was trying to help, but she didn’t get it, not really. Emily saw what everyone else saw. At Heywood, I was the lacrosse guy, the one everyone expected to play in college. They didn’t know that when it came time to decide where to go to school, I’d had two choices—a Division I school or a Division III. An athletic scholarship where I’d be lucky to play a few minutes of a game, if at all, or financial aid loans and a shot at a starting position. I’d made the choice that would let me play, even if it meant being in debt. By jumping off that bridge, I’d not only screwed up my knee; I may have also screwed up the next four years.

  But I hadn’t told Emily any of this because she had her own stuff to deal with after Mr. Holden fired her. She was so worried her parents would find out and make her go back home, which I knew was why she’d accepted the first job offer she got, even though she should have waited a week to see if anything better came along. And then there was the whole incident with Sam, which was ridiculous.

  As soon as Melanie and I got home from dropping Emily off at the ferry that night, I’d found Sam and told her exactly that—if I was over it, I sure didn’t need Sam stirring things up with Emily. Especially since I was the one who had to deal with being in the middle of the two of them all summer. Sam had listened and nodded like she understood, but that was as far as she went. There was no apology or promise to be nicer the next time Emily came over for a visit. I didn’t want to make an even bigger deal about it, so I let the subject drop.

  “It’s hard to explain,” I told Emily.

  “Try me,” she urged, moving her hand back to my knee.

  “It could all be over, just like that.” I snapped my fingers. “Then what? What happens if I can’t play?”

  “There’s still a chance everything will be fine. And if not, well, you can deal with that when the time comes.”

  I knew she was just trying to help, to get me to stop spiraling down, each thought cascading into the next until the only conclusion I could come to was that my lacrosse days were over. I’d spent every summer running suicide sprints, covered in mud, just trying to improve my speed. I’d played through sprained ankles, shin splints, and a concussion. I’d tiptoed through ladders, ran patterns around cones, and spent hours alone doing wall ball drills. The games were what everyone watched, but they had no idea what went on before I even stepped onto the field. Emily didn’t know that I could barely remember a time when I wasn’t cradling a ball in the net of my stick—the physical and mental commitment to a sport that was as much who I was as what I played.

  She had no idea what came before her, how it was just as important to me as what came after.

  “It was, I don’t know… it made me me.” I tried to put into words what I was thinking. “And now what?”

  “You aren’t just lacrosse, Luke. That’s crazy.”

  I shook my head and avoided Emily by looking over at the dart board. There wasn’t anything Emily, or anyone else, could do or say that would make a difference. At this point, the only opinion that mattered was the doctor’s.

  Emily nudged herself between me and the back cushion, creating enough room to lay her head on my shoulder. Maybe she finally understood what I meant, or maybe she realized there was nothing she could say that would make my situation better. Either way, just feeling the weight of her body calmed me down and brought me back to what was happening now instead of what might happen in six weeks. She didn’t have any magic words to fix everything, and she couldn’t predict the future, but just getting the thoughts out of my head made me feel less wound up, if not exactly better.

  “It just sucks.” I sighed.

  “That seems to be this summer’s theme,” Emily agreed, and this time, it was her turn to sigh.

  “You’re not having a good time with Lucy and Josie?”

  “We hardly see each other. It’s just nothing like we planned.”

  “I sure didn’t plan this. I jumped off a bridge with five-year-old kids doing back flips, and I end up spending my summer on crutches. I was talking to Sam about it—” The moment I said her name, I wished I could take it back.

  Now, instead of ignoring it, Emily’s body stiffened and she sat up. “You talked to Sam about it?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, she’s here every day, and it’s not like I have anyone else to talk to.”

  “I’m here,” Emily reminded me, and then added, “I mean, I may not be here here, but I’m always here for you if you want to talk.”

  “I can’t call you every time I think of something to say. That’s impossible, Em, and besides, you’re working all day.”

  “So I shouldn’t get a job so I can wait around in case you call me?” Emily asked, but it wasn’t a question at all, and I knew it.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I tried again. “I was just saying that even if I wanted to talk to you, it’s not like I can just call anytime I want.”

  Emily’s phone vibrated and she glanced down at the screen. “They’re on their way home from the beach.”

  Emily tapped back a reply.

  Shit, not again. This was turning out to be just like Emily’s last visit, although this time we’d managed to get to a bad place all by ourselves. “I thought we’d have a little longer before they got back.”

  “They just wanted to see what the beach here was like,” Emily said, as if it was a comple
tely logical explanation for a beach visit that barely lasted two hours.

  “It’s not that different from Falmouth,” I pointed out.

  She shrugged halfheartedly, like it didn’t matter. “Well, maybe the beach over here is more interesting.”

  “Because?” I asked.

  “Because it has different lifeguards?” She tossed it out there like a vague suggestion, but I’d have to be completely oblivious to not get that it was an obvious reference to Sam.

  “They came here to check out Sam?”

  Emily moved my legs off her knees and slid over so we weren’t sharing the same cushion any longer. “No, they just wanted the three of us to spend the day together.”

  I was beginning to feel like this entire visit had been a setup. “And yet they were unfazed when you told them to go to South Beach without us?”

  “We should just drop this.” Each time Emily answered a question, she seemed to move farther away from me until, finally, she was at the opposite end, right up against the armrest.

  “Drop it? Is that why you’re here?” I wanted to know. “So your friends can check out Sam?”

  “You know it’s not, Luke, but even Nolan thinks she’s overinvested in you.”

  Nolan? The guy she works with? Emily made a big deal about me telling Sam about how we got together, and here she was telling some guy she just met about Sam? And who the hell says overinvested?

  “Why were you telling him about Sam?” I asked.

  “I told him about your knee and why you were here this summer instead of working at camp.”

  “And Sam just happened to come up?”

  “I also told him who you were living with.” Emily tossed her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Can we just forget about this?”

  I wanted to. This was not the day I was expecting, and it definitely wasn’t how I wanted to spend my time with Emily. Forgetting about this would be nice, I just wasn’t sure it was as easy as that.

  Emily turned her head to me. “Why is everything so complicated?”

  “I don’t think it has to be,” I told her. “Not if you don’t want it to be.”

  She chewed on her lip as she considered my answer. “What do you want, Luke?”

  “What do I want? Jesus, Emily, I want my knee to be healthy. I want to be able to practice with the team and have a shot at being a starter in the spring. I want to stop all this bullshit with you and just have things be normal again. I mean, what else is there?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head as she said it, which made me think she did know. She knew exactly what she wanted me to say, and I wasn’t getting it right.

  “Here you are.” Charlie let the boathouse door slam against the wall as he swung it open. “We’re not interrupting anything, are we?”

  “You’re fine,” I told him, even though Emily and I weren’t.

  Josie and Lucy followed Charlie inside.

  “The beach is gorgeous!” Lucy set a pile of shells down on the corner of the ping pong table.

  Josie picked up a pool cue and spun it in the palm of her hand. “You play?” she asked Charlie.

  Charlie eyed Josie, trying to size her up. “Can she play pool like you play ping pong?” he asked Emily.

  For the first time in what seemed like a while, Emily’s face softened and she smiled. “I think you’ll have to play her to find out.”

  “You rack,” Josie told Charlie, and as I watched him collect the balls from each of the pockets, I had a feeling he was in for another beating.

  As Josie called solids after the break and the game began, I felt a tentative hand gently land on my thigh. I kept my eyes on the table as Josie missed her first shot and Charlie took his turn, sinking the fourteen ball in the corner pocket. Still, Emily kept her hand on my leg, the warmth of her palm against my shorts. When Charlie missed his next shot, and Josie called the seven ball in the side pocket, I finally looked over at Emily. She was still sitting against the armrest, but she was watching me, her outstretched arm bridging the gap between us as she waited for me to decide what happened next.

  I wanted to do what she said: forget about it. I laid my hand over Emily’s and kept it there, my fingers resting in the spaces between hers. She waited before reacting, almost like she wasn’t sure if I was going to change my mind, and then she slid over toward me until, like before, our bodies were so close it was hard to tell where I ended and she began.

  I leaned in close to Emily’s ear and whispered, “Can she really play?”

  Emily turned her face to me and whispered back, “I don’t think so, but it doesn’t look like Charlie can, either.”

  Lucy, Emily, and I watched two of the worst pool players I’d ever seen take almost forty minutes to finish a game. Finally, after Josie scratched on the eight ball, Charlie declared victory, even if it was an ugly one.

  “Winner gets the loser a drink, come on,” Charlie told Josie, who wasn’t as sore a loser as I’d thought she’d be.

  “Bring us some!” I told Charlie as he pulled Josie out the door by the arm and they headed to the house.

  “Ping pong?” Emily asked Lucy, who was quick to accept her invitation.

  “She’s really good,” I told Lucy, but she waved me away and didn’t seem worried.

  She took a paddle from Emily and walked around the table to the opposite side. “I play soccer, how different can it be?”

  A paddle? A table? A ball about a hundred times smaller than the one Lucy was used to kicking with her feet? I didn’t say any of this, though. I just sat back and prepared to watch Emily win.

  Three games later (when Emily won the first game, Lucy had insisted on best out of three), Charlie and Josie returned without any drinks. I was about to remind them that they’d forgotten to bring ours when Josie announced they had to leave.

  She picked up her camera bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Last ferry is in thirty minutes.”

  “We’re only ten minutes from the wharf,” Emily reminded her, but Josie shot her a serious look and Emily didn’t argue. I guess after what had happened the last time she was supposed to catch a ferry, Emily didn’t want to get into it with Josie.

  Right away, I knew Charlie had done something. Josie was way too anxious to leave, and it wasn’t because she didn’t want to miss the last boat back to Falmouth.

  “You don’t have to walk,” I told Josie, trying to step in and play the good guy so she didn’t take whatever happened with Charlie out on Emily. “We’ll drive you.”

  Josie gave me a look of pure disdain, as if I was personally responsible for Charlie and whatever it was he did that pissed her off. “Lucy and Em, I’ll meet you at the car.”

  I caught Charlie’s eye, and he shrugged at me as if he had no idea why Josie couldn’t get away fast enough.

  Even with five of us in the SUV, the ride to the wharf was awkwardly silent thanks to Charlie. It made me wonder if Emily was right to think that everything, no matter how simple it should be, became complicated.

  The ferry was already at the dock waiting for passengers when we arrived, and Josie didn’t waste any time boarding with Lucy close behind her, completely confused by the turn of events. Charlie decided to stay in the car, which didn’t surprise me.

  “I should go be with them,” Emily told me as we stood in the parking lot facing the wharf. It was late enough that all the commercial fishermen’s trucks were gone for the day, replaced by tourists milling around taking photos of the boats in the harbor.

  “Do you know what happened?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

  “Nope. But I think we both have the same idea.” She looked over at the car and then to the ferry. “Hey, I’m sorry about before.”

  I laid my arms over her shoulders and turned her toward me. “I know. Me, too.”

  “Maybe one of these trips we’ll get it right,” Emily joked, but she seemed almost sad as she forced a laugh.

  “Next time no friends,” I told her.

 
“And no Charlie,” she quickly replied.

  “Deal,” I agreed.

  Emily wrapped her arms around my waist and held me tight, her breath rising and falling as it almost mimicked the sound of the harbor water beating against the wharf.

  “I should go.” She pulled away and kissed me one last time. “Do you remember the first time you kissed me?” she asked, walking backward toward the ferry so she could face me.

  “I remember the first time I tried to kiss you,” I answered. “You were babysitting and when I showed up, you acted like I was—”

  “I told you not to come over,” she reminded me, not letting me finish. She continued walking backwards. “And you scared me to death, lurking outside the front door.”

  “I wasn’t lurking, I rang the doorbell. You told me to leave. And then when you decided to let me stay, you gave me a Sprite in a My Little Pony cup with a pink straw shaped like a horse head.”

  “I remember that.” Emily smiled at the memory and then looked over her shoulder at the ferry, holding her finger up for Josie and Lucy to see, motioning to them that she’d be there in a minute. “I couldn’t believe you didn’t ask for another cup. You actually looked really cute drinking out of it.”

  “So you kissed me.”

  She stopped walking. “No, that’s not what happened. You were leaving, and before I could close the door, you grabbed my hand and pulled me toward you.”

  “And then you kissed me,” I finished for her, ending the story.

  “We kissed each other.”

  “Okay, I can live with that.”

  Emily paused, and I got the feeling she was considering whether or not she should let me believe this version of our history. “You’re sort of right, but not exactly.”

  “Sort of?”

  She resumed walking backward across the parking lot, her voice growing louder so I could still hear her even as she got farther away. “Our first kiss was about two minutes before that. And it was me who grabbed you, right before you walked out the door. And I missed your mouth, so it was sort of off center, and I thought I might have given you a fat lip because it was more like bumping faces than kissing.” She stopped to breathe and then glanced over her shoulder to make sure the ferry was still waiting. “It wasn’t exactly as perfect as you remember, but that was our first kiss.”

 

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