Delicate (17 page)

Quinn and Tessa both call Sunday to see if I wanted to go shopping, but
I’m
still too sore. I still refuse to see a doctor, even though Ibuprofen
i
sn’t touching the pain. I
tell
them that I d
o
n’t feel well and
am
going to be staying in. I really ha
ve
n’t been spending a whole lot of time with my friends lately. I miss them. And more than that, I haven’t been giving the producers the social footage they’ve demanded. Instead, I catch up on taping segments (heavily made up), and catch up on some laundry.

“I haven’t been working on bars a whole lot this week.”

Last time, I wasn’t able to do anything other than bar work since I could conceal my injuries with my grips. This time, I can’t work on bars because my slamming my ribs into them when I cast makes me feel like I’m splitting my body in half.

“I’m so nervous about Nationals that school has been a great distraction lately.”

Trevor has been apologetic and boyfriend-of-the-year material since I accepted responsibility for our argument. It’d been my fault. I instigated it by accepting the ride, after all.

Grant’s already sitting at our
table when
I walk into Oceanography.  He
turns to look at me before
I
even
ma
k
e it to my seat.  His eyes light up momentarily, until I turn my face as I set my things down.  I assume by the widening of his eyes, that I haven’t done as good of a job covering up the bruised left side of my face, as I thought I had. My lips form a tense smile. I want to play off the injury, but I also don’t want to have to talk to him.

I sit down and start organizing my books.

“Sydney,” he says tightly.

“Grant,” I joke back, trying to
mimic
his serious tone.

Still, I refuse to look up. I can’t. I don’t want to look into those eyes.

“Syd, look at me,” he says. The way my name sounds coming from his lips is more than I can handle right now.

I give nothing in response. I am frozen.

He lets out an audible sigh and reaches out with a single finger and tilts my chin up so that he can see my face. I don’t flinch away, but I still avoid his eyes.

“What the hell happened to you?” Gran
t
demands. His voice is thoughtful but firm.

“I tripped and fell down the stairs at my house,” I say with a light laugh. He’s quiet.
Good.
Let’s leave it at that.

“I don’t believe you,” he finally says.

“I tripped, drop it,” I say through my teeth.

“Jesus Christ, just wait until I—” His voice is protective and full of anger.

My eyes dart up at his threat. At the thought of him confronting Trevor. That would ruin everything. Forever.

“I fell down the stairs. That’s it,” I say firmly. Tears form in my eyes. My nose and chin burn as I fight them off.
I can’t cry.
I’m determined to make Grant believe me. 

Grant stares back at me. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he still doesn’t buy it.

“Please,” I say quietly. “Please. Let it go, for me.” My voice has become a tortured beg.

He finally breaks our stare and looks down at his hands. He nods his head once, then turns toward the front of the classroom.

Not another word is spoken between Grant and
me
.

Confessional

“I’ve been working on my Arabian Double Front constantly the last few days.”

Now that my ribs hardly hurt anymore. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. No one other than Grant even doubted my story. Most likely because no one else is quite as perceptive- or nosy as Grant. Quinn and Tess laughed with me when I recounted the story of falling down the stairs. How someone who is making a career out of having great balance can be such a klutz. Trevor cringed every time someone asked me what happened. It hurt to see him so full of guilt.

“I know I said I’d try to make it happen, and I’ve succeeded. Here with my tonight is my boyfriend, Trevor.”

He’s here because he feels guilty, I know that. And I hate that those are his reasons, but the producers have really been hounding me for social footage. This was the best I could do.
I don’t have time to be social right now, surely they understand that.

Trevor smiles uncomfortably and shifts his weight in the chair.

“Nationals are just a week away. I’ve been prepping so hard for so long. I can’t wait to just get there and get the job done.”

“You’ll do great, baby.”
Trevor reaches over and brushes my bangs off of my face and kisses my forehead. It’s showy, and completely not like him, but I’ll take it.

I’m looking forward to getting out of town for a while. To put all of the drama behind me. Maybe when I come back, it’ll be like a real, legitimate fresh start.

I enjoy a relaxing weekend with Quinn and Tessa. It’s such a relief to spend some time with them and just be me, uncomplicated, without any effort. I don’t fill them in my Trevor-drama. I want to put it all behind us, and talking to Quinn about it would only ensure that it was never dropped.

It’s been two weeks since Grant and I have spoken.

I nervously wait in front of the school with the rest of our Oceanography class to board the bus for our field trip to the Aquarium. Honestly, I’d debated whether to skip school or not so I could miss the trip. But I haven’t had the best test scores lately,
so
I can’t miss the points this trip counts for. I can’t believe that this is my life right now. Contemplating missing class. Grades dropping.

I don’t know anyone in my class, so I take a seat alone, near the front of the bus. Just before the doors close, Grant’s tall, tan frame occupies the narrow aisle.

I sigh. I hope he doesn’t notice, because it’s rude, but I know he’ll sit with me.

But he doesn’t. And I don’t know if I feel relief or disappointment. Because everything about my relationship with Grant is confusing. A contradiction.

He sits in the only open bench seat in front of me. His posture is perfectly straight, much more formal than I’
ve
seen before. His back stay
s
to me the entire ride and I stare at the back of his neck, remembering the clean smell of his skin as he carried me down the stairs. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I’m glad when he pulls out his iPod and flips open a book, signaling he definitely won’t be turning around to acknowledge me.

Despite its relative closeness, the ride to the aquarium takes longer than you’d think because of the heavy traffic. I skim through a few magazines, trying to drown my thoughts with senseless celebrity gossip.  Once we get there, I keep my head down as Grant and I both repack our things and avoid the heck out of each other’s eyes. I let
him make his way out of the bus first, before I even stand and start for the stairs.  I turn the corner to take the first step out of the bus,
and
Grant is there. His hand is extended for me. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Let me help you down,” he says. “You know, wouldn’t want you to ‘fall’ again.”

He makes air quotes around the word fall and I want to scream at him. I glare
instead.
Why won’t he just let this go?

“I really did just fall,” I say.

“Whatever you say, Sydney.” He shakes his head before walking ahead of me. I have to run to keep up with his long strides.

“What’s your problem?” I demand. I feel stupid for chasing him down, but this interfering has got to stop.

“
My
problem?” he asks sharply. He stops walking and
stares down
at me. I can tell he’s waiting for me to argue. Why can’t I just walk away? Why do I feel this incredible pull for things to be okay with him? With everyone? The rest of the class has gone inside,
and
it’s just Grant and
me out
in the large entry way.

“My
problem
,” Grant starts, “
i
s that I fucking care about you. And he hurts you. Admit it.”

“That’s not true. I fell. It was an accident. Can we please just drop this?” I feel the warmth on my cheeks, the trembling in my voice. I wish I was better at hiding my emotions.

“Sydney,” he says softly
. “
Look, please just know that I’m here. If you need anything. I mean, if anything happened to you…” He stumbles over his words and it’s so unlike him.

“Okay,” I mumble. It’s a lie. I’ll never be able to do that.

He seems to accept it, though
,
and we turn toward the entrance.

The rest of the class is already well into the tour. We decide against catching up with them, and instead, take our own tour.

To say that the Atlanta Aquarium is massive is a total understatement. It’s literally the largest aquarium in the world. And I’m here. With Grant. It’s wrong to feel so happy to be able to spend this time with him. Wrong because I know that my being with him is the source of all of the problems that I have with Trevor.

We walk through the large, acrylic tunnel. It’s dark and peaceful and I can’t help but enjoy it. Apart from my guilt.

“So, you never finished telling me, what happened with you and your ex?” I try to sound casual rather than nosy.

“Jealous are we?” he says with a smile. I visibly cringe. “I’m kidding, Syd. There’s no big story, sometimes, things just don’t work out the way that you hope they will.”

His words are composed, but I can’t help but sense a twinge of regret behind them.

“I guess you’re right,” I say. I can’t help it. My mind wanders to my relationship with Trevor.

“All right, now it’s your turn,” he says.

“My turn for what?”

“To answer a difficult question.”

“Shoot,” I say.

“How do your parents feel about Trevor?” he asks.
That’s
not
the question I was expecting. I decide to keep my answer honest. Simple.