When Our Worlds Collide (Our Worlds #1)(71)

Mrs. Conrad reaches across the table grabbing the bowl of green beans before taking a spoonful and putting them on her plate. “He’s lucky he didn’t kill someone or else he’d be rotting in jail,” her voice is full of animosity.

Kennedy’s eyes catch my reaction to her mom’s blatant disgust. I can feel the tension that rolls off her as she forces her appraising eyes from me to her mom. She’s thinking about that night. It’s written all over her face. I know her too well now for her not to be thinking about anything else. I could have easily killed her that night, but she survived---barely survived.

“Detective Johnson called to follow-up with you. They still have no leads on the investigation. He wants to see if you’ve remembered anything,” Mr. Conrad looks towards Kennedy who doesn’t change the expression on her face trying not to give anything away. “Have you? I left the number on the counter for you, sweetheart.”

“Have I, what?” Kennedy looks up to her father turning her gaze around the table at all of our watchful eyes.

“Have you remembered anything from that night?” Mrs. Conrad repeats her husband’s question.

Kennedy drops her fork to her plate. “No, I haven’t and I’d like to forget it happened if that’s okay.” Both of her parents look across the table at each other with distraught in their eyes. They aren’t pleased with Kennedy’s complete disregard for the situation.

“I don’t think it’s that easy, sweetie. Someone hit you and left you on a dirt road…alone.” Mr. Conrad’s words send an icy chill through my body. No one except Kennedy and me know what happened that night. Hearing someone referring to my biggest mistake only makes me feel worse. This is why I’m never going to be good enough for this girl no matter how much time passes. Once someone finds out, especially her family, I’d be thrown out of her life for good. Maybe I deserve that. I surely don’t deserve her.

“You know you have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow? Maybe you can get that clunky cast off,” Mrs. Conrad attempts to lighten the mood with no resolve.

“Yeah maybe.” Kennedy’s expression is as hard as granite.

“Once the casts off will you start physical therapy on your leg?” I offer the question to anyone who’s willing to answer.

“That’s the hope. After your surgery then maybe we can see you dance again,” Mrs. Conrad smiles in admiration of her daughter’s gift, reiterating my exact thoughts and hopes for Kennedy.

“It’s a long shot,” Kennedy plays with her fork in the pile of green beans she has no intentions of eating. I can tell her new reality is bothering her. She sits there in the chair across from me trying not to show too much. I can see the anger piling up on her lap just waiting to tip over. Everyone has their breaking point and Kennedy’s is fast approaching.

She pushes her chair back abruptly causing the rest of us to jump in response from the unwelcoming sound of the legs scratching against the wood floor. Kennedy storms off into her room slamming the door leaving me with just her parents who have their eyes trained on her bedroom door.

I go to stand up from the table to check on her when Mrs. Conrad places her gentle hand on my arm.

“Just give her a few minutes, sweetie. You’ll learn that sometimes she just needs a moment to vent on her own,” I nod in compliance not wanting to overstep her instructions.

I continue eating the remainder of my dinner in silence as does Mr. and Mrs. Conrad. They don’t feel the need to fill the gap of silence with unnecessary chatter. Not sure of what I’m supposed to do I just stare off into a non-existent black hole. Maybe it will open up and swallow me whole. Nothing I can say to Kennedy will make this situation any easier.

When I let my mind wander to the night of the accident Kennedy’s insistent need of protecting me is most prominent. I don’t deserve her to protect and lie for me. She chooses to do so to everyone she cares about for someone she barely knows and I still don’t understand why she would take a risk on me. How can a girl like Kennedy love someone like me? She sees something no one else ever has or has bothered to see. There’s more to me than baseball. She sees the type of person that I’m capable of being, the type of person who I want to be for her.

When I ask her she always says she believes that there’s something inside of me that’s worth knowing. I can’t afford to believe that. There’s nothing special about me when you pull away the superficial layers. If I wasn’t born into a family of small town royalty or if I didn’t play baseball as if I’m already getting paid to do so then there’s nothing left to me. I’m blank under everything else. The only good thing I have going for me is now the girl who I nearly took everything away from.

“I’m going to go check on her if that’s okay,” I stand waiting for them to protest. They both give me the same look. It’s sort of an acceptance, but also a warning. Almost like the one her father had given me earlier in the day.

Walking into Kennedy’s bedroom, I find her sitting on the floor leaning against her bed frame. A few tears fall from her eyes causing a familiar ache in my chest. She tries to hide them from me once she notices me entering her room closing the door. I glance down to see a photo album sprawled out over her lap. I sit down directly beside her. Our legs graze against each other causing the familiar spark to shoot through the spot where we’re connected. I’ll never get use to that. Pulling the photo album off her lap placing it on mine I scan through the pages slowly waiting for her to object. She never does only sitting beside me allowing me a glimpse into her world.