If I Fix You

by Abigail Johnson

  I looked. His words didn’t change the past. He’d stayed right in that chair. He could have left.

  But he hadn’t.

  When I asked him why, he didn’t answer.

  A dot of blood bloomed dark and red against my skin when my thumbnail tore. It was almost pretty until it smeared. Until it throbbed. Until I pressed my thumb into the hard metal seam and the hurt zinged up my arm, adding a different kind of pressure behind my eyes.

  Sean was really smart. He’d tutored me in a bunch of subjects last year. He was probably going to be valedictorian. But he hadn’t left that night with Mom. He’d sat there. He’d stayed.

  He made me listen.

  He made me look at him through eyes that blurred his features.

  “I thought she told you. All this time I thought you knew, that she’d explained before she left.” He squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace before opening them again. “How could you stand to look at me thinking... Jill...?”

  By clinging to some things like they were oxygen and shoving others so far away that I could almost pretend they didn’t exist. Because Sean was both. He was what I needed and what I couldn’t stand all at once. I loved him and I didn’t. Both. Completely. I had no idea what I was doing with him, only that I couldn’t do it anymore.

  “She didn’t say a word to me after you left. Nothing.”

  Sean let his head drop. “Jill. Why do you think I stopped going to your house before that? Did you even notice? I wouldn’t even go inside. We’d meet at the shop, or Claire would pick you up. That night I tried to pick you up at the shop, but you sent me away so I timed it out so that I would get to your house right after you, so I wouldn’t be alone with your mom.”

  This was already worse than not knowing. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with my mom. I was going to be sick.

  “Your mom... That wasn’t the first time that she did something like that.”

  The sob I kept locked inside forced my chin up as it tried to break free. I blinked so fast that the swing set across from me flickered in and out of existence. If I trusted my voice I would have begged him not to say any more. Please don’t make me imagine any more. If there were other nights that I didn’t walk in on... My body shook like it was caving in on itself.

  Sean reached for my hand and I tore it free, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. I stopped blinking and squeezed my eyes shut, praying he’d leave before I had to open them again. Praying I’d never have to see either one of them ever again.

  “I’m not leaving this time.” He stood but lowered himself to the ground in front of me. He’d be the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. That would hurt. Even the sound of his voice hurt.

  “Jill. You know me. Think. I would never do anything like this to you. Never. Never.”

  But he did. He had. The loop was back. Mom whispering in his ear, lips moving closer as her hand slipped to the button on his shirt. Only this time I didn’t interrupt them. The button popped free, and the next, and the next. Her hand on his thigh...

  Sean’s words cut through the rushing in my ears. “Tell me. Have I ever flirted with your mom or hugged her or even smiled at her the way I smile at you? Jill, tell me.”

  The insistent tone in his voice forced my eyes open, forced me to flip back though all the memories I had of Sean and Mom. Sean and me sitting on the floor in my living room watching movies and Mom joining us with popcorn, all the nights she asked him to stay for dinner, or offered to drive him home when it got too dark to bike home before he had the Jetta. A million other mundane memories. But nothing I could point to as flirting. At all.

  In fact, on movie nights I remembered him jumping up to get us pops as soon as she sat down next to him, and when he came back he’d sit on my other side, the one farthest from her.

  He almost never stayed for dinner and never at all on nights Dad worked late. I’d always thought it was because his own mom was such a good cook.

  And before he got his license, even on nights when I had hours of homework ahead of me, he’d cajole me into riding along when Mom drove him home. Every time.

  He saw when I came up blank, when the sob no longer battled to escape but started to sink down. There was nothing. I let the loop play again, watching him, watching Sean, and not Mom. The way he sat, the white-knuckle grip of his hands, the furrow of his eyebrows. He wasn’t touching her. He wasn’t looking at her. He had looked like he wanted to leap out of his skin. I’d been agonizing over the fact that he hadn’t left until I showed up, but I’d watched her hand move to touch his leg as she leaned in. If I’d waited another second before dropping my bag, what would I have seen? In my weakest moments, it was another button on his shirt opening. But Sean, and all my own memories, said no. Said never.

  I searched his face. I wanted to believe him. I wanted it more than I wanted my next breath.

  Sean drew back and dropped his head. “Your mom was really unhappy. I know you knew that, but I never told you about any of the other stuff. It wasn’t anything huge, little stuff. Like wanting me to taste a sauce she cooked, but she wouldn’t have any clean spoons. Or walking out in a towel and saying she forgot I was there. Then she’d say things...things that could have been innocent, but didn’t feel like it. Things she’d never say in front of you or your dad. Sometimes it was comments about your dad. So I tried to stay as far away from her as possible. And I did, until that night. You said you were going to be home by seven so I got there at a quarter after. You weren’t there yet, so I was going to wait in the car, but your mom saw me through the window and waved me in. Jill, I never would have gone inside if I didn’t think you were gonna be there any minute, never. And I swear I was going to bolt out that front door if you hadn’t shown up then. I swear it.”

  There was a ferocity behind his words that was almost scary. He was as desperate to be believed as I was to believe him.

  And I did. Suddenly, like a lightning strike, I did. And it was easy. It fit in a way all the fear and the dread never had. In that moment all my doubt vanished. I was blinking at him. His face becoming clearer each time. Until I could see all of him.

  And Sean saw me too. “You gonna make me say it?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t need him to. I truly didn’t.

  “I never came close to kissing her. Never.”

  “I know.” Those two words strung together left my tongue carrying a weight so great that its absence left me feeling like I would float away. I smiled at Sean, the first real smile I’d given him in months.

  “So where does that leave us?”

  CHAPTER 40

  Sitting next to Sean on the merry-go-round made me realize how long it’d been since I’d counted the inches that separated our fingers. How long since I’d tried to number the flecks of silver that shot through his eyes.

  How long since I’d stopped.

  So long, and not long at all.

  It felt like aeons since I’d learned to think about him the only way I could without something ugly slicing at my insides.

  Only there was nothing ominous circling my thoughts of Sean anymore. He was Sean. My best friend, even more than Claire. Long before my heart got tangled up between us, he was the boy I’d spend hours playing “Need for Speed” with, the boy who used to sneak me into his brother’s no-girls-allowed tree house, the boy who dressed up as Oliver Hardy to my Stan Laurel for Halloween three years in a row.

  I didn’t wake up one day and decide to love Sean Addison. I woke up one day and realized there wasn’t a time I could remember not loving him. Until one night, with whiplash-inducing speed, I stopped.

  So much of my life was tied up in Sean Addison. All the good stuff and the bad. But if the bad was gone, where did that leave us?

  “I don’t know.” It was the only answer I had.

  “Maybe I do. Hear me
out, okay?” Sean leaned forward enough for a nearby park light to paint a star in his eyes. “You know I hate running, right? Tell me you know that?”

  “I know.”

  “Right. Good.” He sat forward again, his hands between his knees. “And Claire, well, sometimes I want to kill her, but I love her and—” Sean sighed before catching my eye and holding it. “Do you remember Jamie Pilther’s thirteenth birthday? We carpooled together.”

  I blinked, trying to follow his random subject change. But I remembered every single detail about that night. Jamie was pretty hung up on Claire at the time and, as her best friend, I’d reaped the benefits by getting invited to his birthday. Most of the party I’d spent playing messenger between them:

  “Does she want to hold his hand?”

  “No.”

  “Does she want to be his girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Does she want to sit next to him while he opens his presents?”

  “Okay.”

  After the presents were opened, I’d officially resigned as messenger girl. Claire had gotten over her initial shyness and was able to talk to Jamie by then anyway. But that wasn’t why I remembered Jamie Pilther’s thirteenth birthday. And that wasn’t why Sean was bringing it up.

  I don’t remember who suggested we play spin the bottle, but I do remember my eyes instantly scanning the crowded basement for Sean. Claire refused to play, but she was the only one. My hands were shaking when it was my turn. I could even still remember where Sean sat, four people to my left, and watching the bottle spin, round and round and round.

  I remember it didn’t land on Sean.

  I don’t remember the name of the guy it landed on, not that it mattered. Claire’s mom arrived to pick us up before my brain had even fully registered my disappointment.

  “I knew you wanted the bottle to land on me,” Sean said, pulling me back to the present. It would have been pointless to deny it. “I wanted it to land on me too.”

  “Don’t.” I dragged my eyes away. “I don’t want you to do this.” He’d had all the time in the world since Jamie’s party to say something like that, and he never had. Not even close. “I understand, okay? About my mom. I understand and I believe you. I think that’s probably why I couldn’t completely let you go, and I don’t want to. I’ll never want to.”

  Sean’s eyes flitted down and he nodded. “Good. ’Cause I’d never let you.”

  “But you need to understand something too.” Sean sat next to me waiting, but the words wouldn’t come while he was that close. “Can you...can you go back to sitting on the ground?”

  He moved and his mouth kicked up on one side. “I’m practically prostrate at your feet. Better?”

  “Yes. But let me get it all out, okay?”

  Sean’s smile slipped.

  “Jamie Pilther’s birthday? That was nothing. That was my every day. It was insane how much I thought about you. Ask Claire.” My smile was watery. “That night with my mom, even knowing what I know now, it opened my eyes. I waited for you to say something, to see me the way I couldn’t help but see you. I waited so long, Sean. But you never did. Not really. And I know I could have said something, but it was so painfully, pathetically obvious how I felt. I knew you knew. I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

  “No you don’t.” The merry-go-round moved slightly as Sean sat down next to me, his hand slipping to my jaw to turn my face to his. My eyes followed more slowly, too slowly to see him move into me, dipping his head and fitting his lips over mine.

  Kissing me.

  Kissing me.

  Kissing me.

  CHAPTER 41

  Kissing me.

  Kissing me.

  Kissing me.

  All the thinking parts of my body stalled the moment Sean’s lips touched mine. My heart revved in my chest and my hands clung to his wrists. His hands were firm on my jaw and his kiss eased into something so soft, so tender, that I tasted salt from a tear sliding down my cheek.

  Sean tasted it too and pulled back. His eyes were searching mine and I felt his breath against my lips.

  “Why?” I whispered. “Why do you have to see me now? I kind of hate you for that.” Somebody’s car alarm went off up the street. The blaring sound made me jump. Sean didn’t seem to hear it. I sucked my lips into my mouth and tasted him.

  Sean Addison kissed me.

  He’d taken my face in his hands and kissed me. It was so perfect too. I would never have dreamed a moment better than the reality.

  All of which made me kind of hate him.

  “I wasn’t lying before when I said I wanted the bottle to land on me. I kind of did, even then. Not like now. If we were playing now, I’d reach over and stop the thing myself.” He met my eye. “I wouldn’t need a bottle.”

  No. I closed my eyes. He had to stop saying things like that.

  “But we were what, twelve?” he said, either not noticing or ignoring my growing discomfort. “I just remember thinking you looked really pretty in that green dress and that I wanted to be the one who kissed you.” He shrugged. “But then you and Claire were all giggly later at school and I didn’t think about you like that for a while. And yeah, I knew you liked me. A lot. I guess I figured that wouldn’t change.”

  But it had. I didn’t need to say why. I swallowed. My throat felt like an entire bag of popcorn was stuck in it.

  Sean fell silent, which was good because I couldn’t hear anything except my heart still thudding impossibly loud in my chest.

  “I know that wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry.”

  And then, because I apparently wanted to torture myself further, I asked him, “When?”

  “When did I know? About you?” He waited for my nod. “Actually, that was Claire.” He smiled at my look of confusion. “Do you know when she started in on me about running with you guys?”

  I shook my head.

  “It was right before Christmas. She caught me in the hall one day. ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to go out for cross-country?’ She said she’d make up a schedule for training over the summer and not to worry about it interfering with work or it being too hot because we’d run while it was still dark. I stopped listening to her after that because there wasn’t a single thing that she was saying that I would ever consider doing.

  “But then she said, ‘It’ll be the three of us. You, me and Jill.’ And I heard myself agreeing. Even though I think cross-country will be the official sport in hell, and the idea of running before the sun rises still makes my brain cry even now that I’ve been doing it for weeks.” We both smiled, and then Sean was looking at me with such wonder that I forgot to breathe. “But I didn’t think about that. I thought about seeing you, every day, all summer. And I knew.”

  “Sean.” I dragged his name out with almost no air left in my lungs. “That was seven months ago.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  “Then why?”

  He looked away. “That’s when your mom started...noticing me more. It messed up my head. I wanted to be around you but I really didn’t want to be around her. So I waited. And then, after she left, it was different. You were different.”

  “Sean, I am so sorry that she...was like that with you. I can’t even imagine.” I didn’t want to. Instead my brain raced back over those months, stopping on the moments with him that stuck out, that might have clued me in, but I couldn’t find them. Not a single one.

  “You never acted differently. How was I supposed to know that you were finally noticing me?”

  “For the record, I’ve been noticing you since we were twelve. I’ve just been an idiot for the past five years.” He wasn’t being funny. None of it was. Part of me wanted to scream at all the wasted time. And another, much smaller part of me was g
lad that he’d had a few months to know what I’d felt for years.

  “And your neighbor moved in.” Sean tried to rein in the flicker that twisted his features. “And no, I don’t want to start in on any of that. You say I was wrong to hit him, then I have to believe you.”

  I was too stunned by his acknowledgment of being wrong to say anything except, “Thank you.”

  Sean seemed surprised at himself too. “Yeah.”

  “And I’m sorry too. Lying to my dad about you. I never thought he’d call you, but I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Sean shrugged. “It wasn’t even about that, really. And none of that matters, not him or your mom.” He wove a couple of his fingers underneath where my hand was pressed into the merry-go-round between us.

  I pulled away.

  “If you could see inside my head these past months.” I stood up and fought not to shudder. “It hasn’t been good, and you were tangled up in all of it. That doesn’t just go away. I can’t snap back to being in love with you because you want me to. I wish I could.”

  “Hey.” Sean’s hand was warm on mine as he stood and drew me toward him. And then he hugged me. It wasn’t exactly like the hundreds of hugs he’d given me before. The arms he slid around my waist held me just differently enough that I could imagine how a completely nonfriend kind of hug from Sean would be. And that only made the knot in my throat bigger.

  His chin rested on my head and his breath blew out over my hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Not ever.” His arms tightened for a second before he pulled back enough so that I could see his eyes. It was probably the closest I’d ever been to him before. I could see all the flecks of silver. “Breaking your heart means I’m going to try and fix it. You know that, right?” I couldn’t stop the extra beat my broken heart made at the way his eyes moved over my face. It was almost exactly the same flutter I’d felt watching that bottle spin at Jamie Pilther’s birthday.

  Sean gave me his half smile, the one that felt like it belonged to me—and maybe it did—and leaned toward me. He kissed my forehead. “You said you wish you were still in love with me. You used to love me when I wasn’t even trying. Can you imagine what it’s gonna be like now that I am?”