by Hazel Kelly
Basically, a few of my frat brothers and I played wheelchair basketball with a group of high school aged guys from the surrounding area.
In the beginning, they used to kick our ass all the time because none of us could maneuver our wheelchairs for shit, but we'd improved enough that it was finally competitive.
And while the main reason for showing up every three Sundays was for the kids, it made me grateful.
When I was young, I took my health and athleticism for granted. And sports were everything to me.
It broke my heart to think it was so much harder for these guys- who I'm sure needed sport as much as I did- to find people to play pickup games with.
So it was the least I could do to give back.
What's more, it was humbling, and humility was something I wanted to get better at.
After all, sophomore year I started becoming kind of a dick as a result of so many women throwing themselves at me.
And I didn't want to become a typical fraternity jerk. I wanted to be a good guy with his feet on the ground who just happened to be in a frat.
Fortunately, Izzy and Andi called me out pretty quick, and I got back on track to becoming a well-rounded person whose ego fit comfortably through doorways and in rooms without high ceilings.
Which was good. Because what would be the point of busting my ass to get an education if I became an unbearable prick in the process?
I wiped the sweat off my face with my shirt and said good game to the other guys, matching their appetite for talking smack at the same time. Then I poured some Gatorade down my throat and glanced at the clock.
It was 10:30. Surely Andi had gotten my note by now.
All it said was where I'd gone to and that I'd call her later, but I'd left it right by my pillow so she'd see it in the same breath that she realized I was gone.
I was going to add that I had a great time last night, but it seemed too vague and sleazy considering the situation that had brought her to my doorstep in the first place.
But that didn't mean it wasn't true.
I had enjoyed myself. I knew I shouldn't be surprised at how much since she was one of my oldest friends, but her company was so refreshing.
I was so used to being around women that were dick hungry posers, their every word designed to manipulate, seduce, or fish for compliments.
But Andi wasn't like that.
She didn't throw herself at me or show up in so much makeup I was worried about finding rogue eyelashes in my bed. She breathed normally- without trying to suck in her stomach and stick out her chest- and she treated me like a regular person.
Best of all, she actually had a few brain cells to rub together and could hold a conversation about something other than the life and times of reality TV stars. The only downside was that time always passed by too quickly when I was with her.
And that made me want more of it.
In fact, when the thought crossed my mind that she might want space while she was getting over this whole thing with Mike, I felt my throat close up.
Because if there was anything I'd learned last night- besides the fact that our lips seemed to fit together so perfectly I wished I'd tried them on properly- it was that I'd spent enough time away from her, and I was sick of it.
I wanted her back in my life in a big way. She was good for me. I knew it in my head, and I could feel it in every part of my body when she was around.
She made me laugh. She made me forget myself. She made me horny as fuck.
And I hated the idea that when she was ready to move on, it might not be with me. Yes, it was a problematic, complicated idea, but weren't some of the best ideas like that?
I knew as soon as I'd kissed that sad crack in her lip that I wanted to be the guy to make her forget about him, the guy to show her how she should be treated.
And no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that it was a bad idea to lust after one of my oldest friends- my sister's best friend no less- I knew that there wasn't a jerkoff within two hundred miles of campus that could look after her like I could.
Which meant that maybe- for both our sakes- this was an itch I ought to seriously consider scratching.
Otherwise, I'd always wonder what if…
What if I really kissed her? Would she kiss me back?
What if that awkwardness between us as teens was down to something real, something we both felt and had been denying for years?
Then again, there was a chance that if I went for it, she would completely reject me and it would piss her and my sister off to the point that my life would be hell for a while.
Or maybe she'd just laugh it off.
Perhaps I could find some way to come on to her that would make it easy for her make a joke out of it if she wasn't up for it.
It was hard to guess what would happen, especially because I didn't know her as well as I used to.
All I knew was that I wanted a chance to get to know her again.
And I promised myself that if I had even one moment of doubt as to whether I could love her better than anyone else, I'd back off.
But something told me that wasn’t going to happen.
Chapter 11: Andi
I laid around in Shane's bed a little longer than I should have, letting my eyes scan and memorize the room.
After all, I'd probably never wake up in his bed again, and it was fun to be that girl for a few minutes, that girl that wakes up in an unfamiliar room after an incredible night with a stranger.
Though he was far from it.
Then again, last night had been special, but even if the feeling I had in my gut was only our friendship being rekindled, it was still worth it. Still progress.
Eventually, I heard movement and voices in the house, and the awkward notion of still being there when he got back began to overshadow the comfort I got from laying my head on his pillow, his note clutched in my hand.
I got up and dressed, carefully folding the shorts and t-shirt he'd let me borrow so he'd know I hadn't stolen them.
I considered washing and returning them, but I figured I was as weak as the girls I'd heard him complain about who never returned his stuff after spending the night. And seeing how he'd so selflessly returned my stuff to me yesterday, it only seemed fair to show him the same respect.
Once I'd gathered my things, I poked my head into the hallway. The coast was clear so I pulled the door shut quietly and crossed the landing to the stairs.
There were guys all over the place on the ground floor, but no one seemed phased by my creeping around. I still flinched, though, when the heavy front door squeaked as I opened it out onto the porch.
Before I reached the sidewalk in front of the house, two other girls came out behind me. They were both in tight dresses with their heels in their hands.
I suspect they were still drunk from the night before based on the vacant stares they gave me before turning the other way.
That's when I realized I was so far from the walk of shame stereotype there was no reason to be awkward.
If anything it was a walk of pride I was enjoying, though I suppose I would’ve been even more proud if something had actually happened considering what an incredible guy Shane was.
Still, that kiss was the most exciting thing I’d been part of in a long time. Sure, I felt pathetic for reading into a "make it better kiss" like that, but I couldn't deny how it made me feel.
It felt- for lack of a better word- loaded.
I mean, no one had ever held a gun to my head, for example, but I like to think I'd be able to tell whether it was loaded or not, whether there was intent behind the threat.
And that kiss felt loaded. Like there was an intent- an energy- behind it. Like the slightest flinch from either of us might've caused an explosion.
But it was probably only wishful thinking.
And I knew I shouldn't allow myself to make wishes like that, wishes that could never come true, wishes that made it hard for me to be a good friend.
> Shane and I would never go there. Could never. We'd been frolicking in the friend zone for so long the doors to other possibilities had rusted and grown over with moss.
There was no getting out of this. There was no more to come. This was it, and I'd be a fool to be ungrateful for what we had.
Plus, Izzy would be crushed.
They'd gone to so much trouble to make sure I never felt like the third wheel when we were little. And as teens, she and I had been conscious to never make Shane feel like that either. So even if he liked me like that, I couldn't do that to her.
I turned the corner and crossed to the sunny side of the street, enjoying the warmth on my face as I dodged the occasional curbside evidence of other people’s overindulgent Saturday night.
Besides, what if it didn't work out?
I liked to think of myself as an optimist, but the majority of romantic relationships failed.
Therefore, it was too big a risk to even consider.
Up to this point, I'd been very lucky in my life. My birth was a fluke in itself. Then I'd managed to pull through the complications I had after birth.
I walked away without a scratch when I was playing Skip-It in the driveway and a drunk driver ploughed into our mailbox, and I'd only sprained my ankle when I fell off the neighbor's trampoline.
And then there was getting away from Mike last night before he really hurt me and the time that, well, the list went on and on when it came to times I got lucky.
And someday if my luck ran out, I couldn't risk it being related to my relationship with Shane.
He was my rock, the force that kept my compass pointing north.
Without him, I was much more likely to lose my way, or worse, myself.
I probably imagined the energy behind that kiss anyway because I was fragile and confused after all the excitement yesterday.
And I was pretty lame for reading into it so much when all he'd done was show me a bit of compassion when I needed it. A better use of my energy would be toning down my desperation for his attention.
Because that could put our friendship at risk, too, and right now, I needed him.
I'd never say that, of course. It was too needy. But in my heart, I knew that spending time with him was the best way for me to reconnect with the Andi I was before Mike broke me down.
Because no one lifted me like Shane. No one made me feel more myself, more capable. And I needed that right now more than I needed anything else.
I'd just pushed my apartment door open when my phone rang. It was Izzy.
I closed the door behind me before answering. "Hi."
"Did you just wake up?"
"No," I said, clearing my throat. "I just haven't talked to anyone today yet."
"I thought you were going to call me back last night?"
I slumped on the couch, feeling weak as soon as I hit the worn cushions. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was too busy breaking up with Mike."
"Shit, Andi. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Really."
"Are you okay?"
"I’m better than I'd be if I stayed with him." I didn't want to tell her anything more, didn't want to admit to anyone that last night wasn't the first time he'd scared the shit out of me.
I knew she'd freak and tell me I deserved better. And as nice as that was to hear, the important thing was that I was starting to believe it myself.
"How did he take it?" she asked.
"Like a complete prick."
"Mmm."
"But he's out of the picture now, so I'll be toasting to my fresh start right after I have some breakfast."
"What about Stephanie?"
"She's away this weekend at some kind of religious retreat that God's always wanted her to go on."
"Why didn't you tell me? This would've been the perfect weekend for me to come down."
"She didn't tell me she was going until the last minute."
"Well, I do want to come again soon, especially since we didn't get to hang out much last time cause Mike was a shitty sharer."
"Yeah, sorry. I promise we'll make up for lost time. Any weekend you want. Just give me a heads up."
"Sounds good.”
I smiled. It was amazing how my best friend’s voice could make the world stop spinning.
“And for the record, I'm glad you're moving on,” she said. “You can do so much better."
"I know." I slipped my sandals off and put my feet on the edge of the coffee table.
"Okay, well, I'm glad you're okay. I got The Ink when you didn't call."
I rolled my eyes. The Ink. Short for inklings. It was a pet name Izzy had for her gut feelings and intuition, which were often eerily accurate.
For a long time, she only got inklings when it came to Shane. I figured it was some weird twin thing. But after a few years, she started getting them about me, too- claimed it was all down to frequencies and energy.
So it was no surprise at all to hear her spidey sense was going ape shit last night.
Chapter 12: Shane
I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
I tried once more, a little louder this time. And then the horrible thought she might be out with Mike became a lump in my throat.
I opened my mouth to call her name and then closed it again, turning on my heels towards the stairwell instead.
"Shane?"
I spun back towards the door.
Andi was standing in a towel, and her dark hair was dripping small streams of water that pooled beside her collarbone.
"I didn't realize-" I swallowed, trying to keep my eyes on her face. "I should've called."
She cocked her head. "You gonna come in?"
"If it's not a bad time."
Her eyes smiled. "Not at all. What's up?"
I lifted my left hand. "You forgot your sandwich."
Her eyes dropped to the leftover sub in my hand.
"I didn't know if it was an accident or-"
She narrowed her eyes at me as if she could see right through my pathetic excuse to come see her.
"Thanks," she said, taking a step back to open the door wider.
I stepped past her, the flowery scent off her wet hair filling my nose.
She closed the door behind me and locked it every way she could.
There was a bottle of champagne- or rather, two thirds of a bottle- on the coffee table beside a small mug.
"Have you been drinking?" I asked.
"Would you judge me if I said yes?" She stepped up beside me, gripping the top of the towel where it cut across her chest.
"Of course not," I said, noticing a sparkle in her eye that made my groin twitch.
She took the sandwich from my hand and walked towards the small kitchen nook on the other side of the sitting room. "Stephanie's at a retreat until late, and after yesterday I figured I deserved a sloppy chill day."
"Understandable," I said, my guts clenching when I realized we were alone and separated by nothing but a wet towel. I exhaled through my nose and ran a hand through my hair.
"So what'll it be?" she called from around the corner.
"What do you mean?"
She poked her head out of the kitchen nook. "What can I get you to drink?"
I had a test the next day that I really should’ve been preparing for, but if I went home, I'd just be fighting off the distraction of a house full of guys. And frankly, the distraction here was far more enticing. "What have you got?"
"Anything you want besides liquor and red wine."
I furrowed my brow. "Does that mean my choices are beer or white wine?"
She nodded. "Or champagne."
"I'll take a beer," I said. "But I can get it myself. You don't have to-"
I heard a beer cap clatter against the kitchen counter. A moment later, she came around the corner with it.
That's when I really got the urge to pinch myself.
Could this really be happening? Andi in a towel? Bringing me a cold be
er after I'd been thinking about her like a horny teen all day?
"Bottoms up," she said, handing me the bottle.
"Thanks," I said, taking a swig. "But I really should be going."
