More to Us (37 page)

"So how's the leg?"

"A lot better. The boot will probably come off next week." She unloads the sack she brought and hands me the familiar container. And when I open it, I see the familiar ingredients. She got the salad from the grocery store I took her to after we went rollerblading that day. She put together my salad from the bar, filling it with all the stuff I like.

"You went to that store I took you to?" I say.

"Yeah. Why? Did you want something else?"

"No. This is great. It's perfect. Thanks." I lean over to kiss her, but then quickly stop myself. It was such a natural thing to do that I didn't even think about it.

Luckily she didn't notice. She turned back to get the forks just as I was leaning over.

"Here." She hands me a fork and my hand brushes hers as I take it. Her eyes catch mine, but then dart back down to her salad. But mine don't. I keep looking at her.

She has on a long-sleeve white t-shirt and jeans. Her long dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she's wearing a navy blue Michigan baseball cap. She looks both sporty and sexy, my favorite combination. She has no makeup covering her beautiful face and her lips are...shit, I want to kiss those damn lips.

I focus back on my food so I don't give in to my intense need to kiss her.

"How's your salad?" she asks, then notices I haven't eaten it. "Do you not like it?"

"I do. I just haven't started eating yet." I dig in, taking a bite of salad greens and chicken. "Thanks for the lunch, but you didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. And...I thought it was the only way you'd agree to see me." She keeps her head down, tossing her salad around with her fork.

"I never said you couldn't see me."

"I just assumed you didn't want to." She sets her container down and turns to me. "Austin. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lying to you. Not being honest with you. Not telling you everything I should have. I'm sorry for all of it. I got so caught up in trying to compete again that it was all I could think about. I know you may not understand this, but gymnastics is my life, or
was
my life. It was everything to me. The one thing I was really good at. As a little girl, I'd watch those girls in the Olympics and I wanted to be just like them. I wanted it more than anything. So I trained for hours a day, every day, for years. I gave up a lot, but I was determined to be the best so it all seemed worth it. But then I fell, and in an instant, it was over. Everything I'd worked for was gone. Like it was all for nothing. And I couldn't accept that. I couldn't accept that it was over. I still haven't, but I'm trying to." She pauses and looks down, then back up at me. "I understand if you've moved on with someone else, but if you haven't, I want to try again. Or we could just be friends. Whatever you want. I just want to see you again."

I set my salad down. "I'm not going out with anyone. And I
would
like to see you again, but I need to know that you won't keep doing this. The lying. The secrets. It all has to stop. And honestly, I don't know if you're able to do that right now."

She nods, agreeing with me. She's not there yet. She hasn't fully given up this goal of hers that led to the end of us. But I can see that she's getting there. I sense a change in her. A sadness, the type that comes from having to let go, to say goodbye to something you're not quite ready to say goodbye to.

"I'm here for you," I tell her, "to talk, listen, support you, whatever you need. But I can't go back to how we were until I know this is over. I can't watch you do things that'll put you in the hospital again. And I won't put up with you lying to me."

"I won't lie to you, Austin. I don't want to. I never did. I want to be honest with you. I really do."

"Then start right now. After your leg is healed, are you gonna go back to working out like you did before?"

She lowers her head and quietly says, "Austin, I need more time before I—"

"No. You don't need more time. You just said things were going to be different and now you're saying they're not."

"That's not what I'm saying. Things ARE different. I'm being honest with you and telling you that I'm having a really hard time accepting that I can never compete again. And not going to the gym is like...it's like I've given up."

"It's not giving up. You're just saying goodbye to one part of your life and starting another. And nobody's saying you can't ever go to the gym again. But when you go, you can't work out like you're training for the damn Olympics. You pushed yourself way too freaking hard when we were training together. And I'm still so damn mad at you for letting me do that."

"Do what?"

"Push you. Add more weight. More reps. You knew what could happen and you still let me do it. You ended up in the freaking hospital because of me."

"It wasn't because of you. It was because of me. It wasn't your fault. You didn't know."

"It doesn't fucking matter. Don't you get that? I'll still always feel like it was my fault. I was supposed to take care of you. Make sure you're safe. Make sure you don't get hurt."

"Austin, it wasn't your job to do that. You were training me, but you're not really a trainer. You don't even work there."

"It's not about me being your trainer. I still have to do those things. Taking care of you? Making sure you're safe? It's what you do when you love—"

Shit. I didn't mean to say that.

She's looking at me, her eyes wide, her jaw slightly dropped as she waits for me to continue.

What the hell? She might as well know.

"Yeah. I love you." I crack a smile because it feels so damn good to finally tell her that. "You happy now? You made me fall in love with you and now we're not even dating."

"I AM happy," she says, smiling. "Because I love you too, but I didn't think you loved me back."

"Well, I do," I say like I'm annoyed with myself. And in a way, I am. I didn't want to fall in love at 21, but this girl just won't get out of my head, and she's landed a permanent place in my heart.

"So what do we do now?" she asks.

"If you want us to try again, you have to let your leg fully heal before you step foot in the gym. And when it's healed, you can't go back to training like that. Even healthy people could get hurt working out like that."

She takes a moment to consider it, then says, "I'll cut back to one workout a day, and I won't push myself so hard. But will you help me? Will you work out with me again?"

"I will, but you have to listen to me this time. If I say lower weights, you do lower weights. If I say rest, you rest."

"I don't know if I can agree to that."

"You want to date me or not?"

She huffs. "You just said you love me."

"Doesn't mean I'll date you." I hold out my hand. "Deal or no deal?"

She sighs and shakes my hand. "Deal."

I keep hold of her hand and look intently at her lips. "I really want to kiss you right now."

"Then do it." She smiles.

"Nope. I'm gonna hold out. We're not officially dating, and we won't be if you back out of the deal, so I'm not gonna kiss you. You'll just have to wait. It'll be incentive to keep you on track."

"Are you kidding? That is
so
mean."

"What can I say? I'm a tough trainer. You don't like it, you shouldn't have hired me."

"I didn't—" She stops and laughs. "I want that damn kiss, so whatever I have to do, I'll do it."

But I think she's doing it for more than just a kiss. I finally feel like she's committed to this. I know she doesn't want to give up gymnastics but I think she's finally at a place where she's able to accept that it's over, as hard as that is to do.

As for her and me? We're not over. Not by a long shot. I love her, and I want her back in my life again. And she will be. We just have some work to do before that happens.

Austin

"You need to get over here," Amber says in a hushed tone. I was on my way to get something to eat when she called.

"Why? What's going on?"

"Kira's locked herself in her room. She's been in there for hours. I tried talking to her but she told me she wants to be left alone."

"What do you think's going on?"

"I caught her watching her gymnastics videos earlier so I think it has something to do with that. Can you come over here and try to talk to her? I know you guys aren't dating but—"

"Yeah, I'll come over. I'll be there soon."

"Thanks."

We hang up and I pull into a gas station and turn around, heading toward Kira's place. It's been a week since we started talking again and we've been talking every day. But we haven't today because I had to work. It's Saturday, but my dad needed help at one of his job sites so I met him over there and put in a few hours. Then I went back to my place and cleaned up. Now it's noon and I'm starving, which is why I was going to get some lunch, but it sounds like I need to talk to Kira first.

 
She's been opening up to me a lot this past week. She finally told me about the accident, and when I asked her questions about it she actually answered them instead of saying she didn't want to talk about it. I feel like she's finally being honest with me, but we still haven't gone back to being a couple. For now, I'm just being her friend, and we're going to remain just friends until I know for sure that she's given up trying to compete again. Once her leg heals, I worry she'll go behind my back and start working out obsessively, like she did before, and if she does that, I can't be with her. I can't watch her hurt herself again. And I've told her that several times this past week.

"Hi, Austin," Amber says as she opens the door. She has her coat on, her backpack slung over her shoulder. "I have to go to campus to meet with my study group. I'll be back later this afternoon."

"Okay. See ya."

She leaves and I walk down to Kira's room. I try the door and find that it's unlocked. I thought Amber said Kira locked herself in her room, or did she just say that to get me to come over here?

Amber's been trying to get Kira and me back together, arranging these little set-ups without telling us. Like last Thursday night, she lured Kira and me to the same coffee shop. It turned out to be a good thing. We'd only been talking on the phone, so it was good to meet face-to-face and spend some real time together. We were there for three hours. It's just like when we were dating. Whenever we were together, we had a hard time saying goodbye.

Kira told me Amber likes to play matchmaker, but if that's true, then she needs to play matchmaker for herself. She still hasn't contacted Dylan, and he hasn't tried contacting her.

Dylan is still dating the cheerleader but it's nothing serious. They have sex, but that's all they do, so it's not really a relationship. He hasn't said much about Amber and I haven't pushed him to. I'm trying to stay out of it. I've got my own relationship issues to deal with.

"Kira, it's me." I open her door and see her sitting on her bed with her laptop. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." She sets her laptop down. "What are you doing here?"

"Amber said you might want to talk." I go over and sit next to her on the bed.

She smiles a little. "Sorry about that. She's taking this matchmaking thing a little too far. I'll talk to her."

"It's fine. I wanted to see you."

"You did?" She gives me a full smile this time.

"Why wouldn't I? We're friends, right?"

"Yeah." Her smile falls because she wants to be more than that. I want that too, but I'm not sure if we're ready for that yet. I need to be able to trust her.

"Move over." I nudge her leg and she scoots over to give me more room. I put my legs up next to hers, and lean against the headboard. "So what's going on?"

She clicks on her laptop, waking it up, then points to the screen. It's a video of her doing gymnastics.

"That was nationals," she says.

I don't know what to say. I don't know why she's showing me this. Is she going to tell me she's going to start training again?

When I don't respond, she closes the laptop and sets it on her nightstand. "You don't want to see it."

"I DO want to see it. I just don't know why you're showing it to me."

"Because I wanted you to see what I could do," she says quietly.

"I
know
what you can do. I know you're an amazing gymnast and I've told you that. Many times. So I don't know what you want me to say."

"I'm not a gymnast," she says, her voice quivering. "Not anymore." Tears stream down her face. "It's over. My gymnastics career is over."

The way she said it, it's like she's finally accepting it. Like it's finally sunk in that she can't compete anymore. I don't know what got her to this point, but whatever it was, I'm relieved she's finally realizing this has to end. She can't keep chasing a dream that died over a year ago.

"Kira." I slide my hand around her waist and pull her closer. She turns and puts her head on my shoulder.

"It's over," she says, then breaks down crying.

I just hold her and let her cry. It's what she needs to do in order to accept this. She has to grieve the loss of what might have been. The loss of a dream that just isn't possible anymore.