Neither Brendan or I had been since high school, and I remembered going through a phase where I thought I was too cool to even be at a fair. It was a ploy, of course. The other kids our age were going with their dates, enjoying romantic Ferris wheel rides, winning stupidly huge stuffed animals for each other. I wanted that with Brendan, and the knowledge that I couldn't have it just made me bitter.
Ten years later, all of it was finally on the table. We made a plan to hit every carnival game that was an honest test of skill. Brendan was enough of a nerd to look up a YouTube video on which games were unwinnable. We also just had a light lunch so we could gorge ourselves on terrible fried food and hopefully not puke on the faster rides.
He picked me up and, while I wasn't comfortable bringing a crutch with me, he did help me make sure my brace was nice and secure. My leg was feeling a lot better, even if there were still twinges of pain if I moved it the wrong way or overdid it. I knew going to this fair was going to push things, but I promised him I'd be careful.
We met Elliot and Reuben at the ticket gate, then waited for Tina to show up with her date. I knew Tina's taste in guys and I was expecting some lunkheaded jock to stroll up with her. She always liked guys who could bench press her into next week, according to her. I'd long suspected she'd probably get on better with a quieter, more intellectual guy, but we'd had that discussion a thousand times. Back then, I'd had no leg to stand on. Tina and I both chose awful hookups, probably for similar reasons. Now I could at least tease her later, once I saw what brand of dumbass she'd brought with her today.
As she walked up, she wasn't dwarfed by a guy with no neck, though. She was accompanied by a petite girl with a two-tone pixie cut of black and teal, a studded leather jacket open in the front, and more piercings than I could count. My eyes widened.
"Hey guys, this is Jay. They've graciously agreed to tolerate your presence and mine for the next few hours."
I would've thought they were just a friend, maybe someone Tina met recently that she hadn't introduced me to. But Tina's fingers were entwined with theirs and they were standing too close to just be a friend. A chaotic grin stretched across my lips. I caught Tina's gaze and she glared at me, silently begging me to leave it alone.
I would, for now. But, I intended to find out all the sordid details of this new chapter of her life as soon as possible.
"Good to meet you, Jay," Brendan said, extending a hand to them.
"Hey, nice to meet all you guys, too," they said, shaking his hand. "And if you're going to try and haze me or some shit, you might as well save the effort. I have five older brothers."
"Holy shit," Reuben said. "I can't even imagine."
As we all paid for our tickets, Jay regaled us with tales of their brothers who were exactly what one might expect. Obnoxious, loud, prone to rough-housing, and way too over-protective. Apparently, one of them had insisted Jay text him once they got to the fairgrounds, and later on when they got home. Jay turned their phone around and showed us the picture of their extended middle finger they'd sent.
I liked this person immediately, and it helped that Tina seemed besotted. She just stared at them for long stretches of time, completely oblivious to what was going on around her.
As soon as we were let in, Brendan and I started making good on our plan to consume tens of thousands of calories in one night. We started off with some fried pickles, funnel cake, soft pretzels, fried ice cream, and a giant turkey leg which I knew was a hold-over from the Hogtowne Medieval Faire. Reuben joined us for most of it. So did Jay. The other two watched us, completely horrified by our life choices.
After the third deep-fried item hit my stomach, I was pretty horrified too, but I stuck to my guns and pushed on.
Most of the rides didn't interest Brendan or I, though Jay and Tina tried out the bumper cars and that pirate ship ride that always used to terrify me when I was a kid. We did go on the Tilt-a-Whirl because we're gluttons for punishment, apparently, but the world was still spinning when I got off and I decided to take a break from fried food for a little while. At least a good ten minutes or so.
We split off into groups after that. Elliot and Reuben wanted to see a concert happening on the main stage. Tina and Jay were interested in visiting some of the vendors scattered around the fairgrounds. Brendan and I took that time to check out carnival row.
The standard games were there: Ring toss, frog flip, milk bottles, the shooting gallery, the dart game, that one with the racing horses. There was also a skee-ball setup and some basketball hoops, which Brendan had a definite interest in.
We tried the darts first, with Brendan having much better aim than me. He managed to pop three of the balloons with a dart that clearly wasn't that sharp on the end. His showing won him a tiny teddy bar that probably cost less than a quarter to make, but it was cute just the same.
We moved on to the milk jug game, which from Brendan's studying we knew was weighted toward the bottom so the bottles wouldn't knock over easily. I managed to disrupt the center of mass, knocking over the bottles on my second try. A headband with horse ears, a mane, and a unicorn horn was my prize, and you can bet I wore that shit immediately.
By the time we got to the basketball setup, Brendan was ready to win big. He took his place at a line we already knew was off set from the normal three point mark, with the hoop moved higher, too. It took him a few shots to account for this, but once he did, I watched shot after shot go through, the swish of the net sounding over and over.
I cheered him on and, by the time his turn was through, he'd racked up more than enough points to win the big prize. The teenage attendant took down a rainbow-colored alpaca from the back wall, the stuffed toy a good three feet long. He handed it to Brendan, and Bren immediately handed it off to me.
"What a gentleman, to gift me such a beautiful alpaca for my new unicorn kingdom," I said, giving him a curtsy. "I'm afraid I don't have a dowry to offer in return, good sir."
Brendan laughed, his arm looping around me. "I'd settle for a kiss."
I leaned in to oblige, but the alpaca kept us apart. I started to think of the whole "leave room for Jesus" thing and burst out laughing. After several moments of that, there were tears in my eyes, and I had to explain this newfound mythology to Brendan.
By the end of the night, the rainbow alpaca was the deity of our mythical unicorn land. I was the prince of course, and Brendan was the prince of an allied kingdom. Tina was my sister, the princess, while Jay decided to be a pirate captain who'd sailed in to steal the princess away. Elliot, nerd that he was, imagined a sprawling lore for the kingdom, though he just assigned himself the boring role of "royal wizard," while Reuben was the captain of the guard.
It was ridiculous, but it kept us laughing and in good spirits for the whole night. By the time the fairgrounds were closing, I was overcome with a happy glow that almost didn't seem real. As Brendan drove me home, stealing a kiss from me over the console of his truck, I was finally able to live out that high school fantasy I'd never gotten the chance to indulge in.
23
Keith
After months of not feeling like myself, finally my life was getting back to normal.
When the school year started, I was teaching again and that was enough to keep my mind occupied. I was still restricting myself at volleyball practice though, relying on my assistant coach to do most of the training with the girls. That was putting me into a funk even Brendan couldn't pull me out of, but he worked to get me cleared with my doctor so I could have a chance at spending some quality practice time with my team before their first game.
Admittedly, I whined at him until he probably couldn't stand it anymore, but it was a nice gesture. I also knew he wouldn't have given in if he didn't think I was ready for it. Whatever misgivings he had, they were small enough that he could cast them aside and put in a vote of confidence with my surgeon who cleared me for light activity.
"Just be careful not to push it," Brendan told me. Repeatedly. Lovingly. An
noyingly.
"It's volleyball. It's not exactly known for bone-shattering contact," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but all it takes is one accident to erase months of progress."
I promised him I'd be careful and even invited him to hang out at practice with me to make sure I wasn't doing anything I shouldn't be doing. I hadn't expected him to take me up on it but, when I returned to practice a new, finally-off-doctor's-restrictions man, I was glad to have Brendan there supporting me.
"Hope you girls are ready to kick some GHS ass because we are cranking this shit up to eleven," I told them.
They were probably as happy as I was that I couldn't just sit on the sidelines and gripe at them any longer. Not being able to get in there and get my hands dirty always put me in a bad mood, and I knew some of the girls bore the brunt of that. It wasn't fair but it also wasn't something I'd had control over. Now, I could make it up to them with the kind of practice they should have been getting all along: Two competent coaches pushing them to be the best they could be.
We ran conditioning drills with them first. Mostly sprints, as it was important that each of them have the capacity to react quickly and get to the ball. Then, we paired them up and had them do one-on-one coverage. One player spiking the ball over the net, the other attempting to use that to their advantage and knock it back more quickly than the server could return.
After that, we formed everyone into teams and ran a few practice games with just a five point match condition. We wanted them to fight hard to ensure the other side didn't get to five easily, and we were pleasantly surprised to see both sets of teams were close. The girls fought tooth and nail for every point they scored and when the balance finally tipped it was more out of one person being in the right place at the right time than anything else.
My assistant coach had done a great job training them during my absence, which I knew she would. She could have handled the whole season with ease. Still, I was overjoyed to be back and the girls benefitted from having both of us there. Our coaching styles were different, which I think allowed us to sand down some of the rough edges with a good amount of precision.
I definitely benefitted from having Brendan there, too. At least at first. He was supportive of the girls and of me, clapping and cheering, smiling at me when I looked his way. I was mindful of his attention and took care with my leg, keeping myself out of any situations I knew he would have found dangerous.
As practice continued, though, muscle memory took over. I fell back into the old habits of more hands-on coaching, putting myself on the court more often. Toward the end of practice, my assistant coach and I were both in the middle of the action and I could practically feel Brendan's grimacing.
When we swapped teams around and I drifted to the sidelines, he caught my attention.
"Hey, be careful out there. You're brushing up against the surgeon's recommendation for how active you can be."
"I'll be fine," I told him, not really seeing how me jogging and doing the occasional lunge was going to suddenly snap my leg in half.
The more mindful I was of my limitations, the more it all began to grate. At first, I'd just been happy for the opportunity to really practice with my team. Now I'd had a taste of my old coaching style and I wasn't willing to go back to the days of sitting on the sidelines, coaching from the bench. The best way to teach was to actively demonstrate and test my own limits, the way I was asking them to test theirs. How were they supposed to respect me as a coach if I wasn't willing to put in the work?
I knew I was being a little reckless. It was nothing that should have caused a serious issue, but I was pushing it. Toward the end of practice, I was in the thick of the action, floating between the teams and helping to shore up their defenses. Showing them proper positioning and form. The memory of how things were supposed to be done overruled my caution and the more recent memories of pain, to the point where I ended up diving to save a ball that was going to score a winning point.
It was something I would have done nine out of ten times before my injury. The worst that would have happened was a bruise. Maybe a twisted ankle, if my form was bad.
This time, when I landed, I felt a twinge of pain in my injured leg and I immediately knew I'd fucked up. I couldn't stop myself from crying out, that shot of agony intense enough to send me reeling. I reached for my shin, curled up on the ground in the fetal position, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.
Several of the girls crowded around me, trying to help. Brendan made his way through them to kneel at my side.
"Describe your pain to me. What's the number, and what does it feel like?"
"Fucking hurts," I hissed out through clenched teeth. I knew that wasn't helpful, so I added, "Eight, and it's an ache. In the bone."
"Okay." His voice was calm and I saw him gesture to my assistant coach. "Can you help me get him to his feet? Keith, don't put any weight on your leg if you can help it. Just lean on us."
I did as he said, because I knew it would hurt like fuck if I didn't. The girls buzzed around me in a worried swarm as Brendan helped me toward his truck. It was hell getting up into the cab, but there weren't any other options.
"Damn, Coach," said Daniela, one of my star players. "Back at it for a day, and you already fucked yourself up."
"Go hard or go home," I told her with a laugh, wincing as another burst of pain hit me.
Brendan found it decidedly less amusing. He was silent as he drove me to the nearest walk-in clinic to get x-rays done. My surgeon's office wasn't open and it felt like a waste to go to the ER, so that was the best option aside from just sleeping it off at home. Something I would have suggested, had Brendan not been so tense.
Part of me didn't blame him. He'd warned me to take it easy and I hadn't listened. I could have caused another fracture, and all because I just needed the full experience. It was fucking stupid. I knew that.
Knowing it didn't stop my pride from feeling wounded, or my feelings from being hurt when he wouldn't talk to me and, in fact, talked over me when we met with the doctor.
"The good news is I see no evidence of new fractures," the doctor said once the x-rays were processed. "You probably strained something and since the scar tissue is inflamed. It feels worse than it actually is."
I let out a breath of relief, my eyes closing.
"All that said... maybe don't go diving for any more volleyballs until you're fully cleared, huh?"
His tone was joking and I laughed. Once again, Brendan didn't. His face was a mask of stony seriousness that unnerved me. I didn't know what to make of it, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.
Once we were back in his truck, he didn't give me a choice.
"I can't believe you could be so irresponsible."
"Excuse me? I know it wasn't the smartest move, but 'irresponsible' is a little harsh, don't you think?"
"No, I don't," he fired back. "In fact, I don't think it's harsh enough. I put my neck out for you. I gave your surgeon my professional opinion and said you were ready to go back to light activity."
"If your professional integrity was at stake, then why the fuck did you vouch for me? Jesus, Bren. You're acting like I forced you into it."
"You might as well have!" I could see the worry in his eyes, but all my brain recognized was the fact that he was telling me I'd been a burden; that he never should have trusted me. "How was I supposed to handle you being miserable about missing practice? Of course I was going to put in a good word for you, even if I wasn't one hundred percent sold on you being cleared."
"And now you're mad at me because... what? I did exactly what you thought I'd do, right? You could have just ignored me. You're an adult, capable of making your own decisions, for fuck's sake."
"Like you would have let me ignore you," he said coolly. "When you want something, you don't let anyone forget it."
That one stung. I knew there was truth to it. I was persistent in going after what I wanted. All I could think of was when I first started pursui
ng Brendan, though. Did he resent me for that? Was he feeling... forced into this relationship?
Had he wised up enough to leave me, just like last time?
The thought chilled me to the bone. Terror struck deep within my heart and I covered it beneath an impenetrable layer of self-righteous hurt.
"Yeah, well what I want right now is to get the hell away from you. Drop me off at home. Then you won't have to deal with me forcing you into anything."
"Fine by me," he said through gritted teeth.
I knew now was the worst possible time to make any decisions. We were both angry and hurt. He was worried about me and dealing with it in the worst way possible. I was afraid of him leaving me behind again and lashing out to control the point when he actually did.
But when he finally parked outside of my apartment after a tense, silent drive, I was convinced this was the end of it. Everything I thought we'd built had crumbled under the slightest strain and I was going to have to figure out how to live without Brendan Newell for the second time in my life.
24
Brendan
I had another hearing scheduled for the end of the week.
It was last minute. I’d been asking for one for months—pretty much since the last went nowhere, because I knew it would take an arbitrary amount of time for them to fulfill my request. There was so much bureaucracy involved in all of this that I imagined three different teams had to meet just to decide if they were actually going to grant me the hearing.
When they did, it was because they had a vacant spot on their calendars and clearly, I should be ready at the drop of a hat. I couldn’t complain, though, and I couldn’t reschedule. There was a good chance another hearing wouldn’t happen until the end of the year or even into next year. I knew of people who’d had hearings delayed indefinitely, so I had to make the most of this chance.
Time Out (Dear Lonely Guy Book 2) Page 13
