Twelve Steps to Normal(13)

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step toward me and reaches out like there’s something he can do to stop the throbbing. When he realizes there’s not, he drops his hand. “I didn’t see you.”

I shrug it off and lower my own hand. “I was in the way.”

He’s staring at me, not bothering to hide it. I feel a stirring deep down in my stomach, remembering all the times he used to look at me that way.

“I’m not going to lie. You’re the last person I expected to accidentally hit with the door.” He has an easygoing smile. It’s effortless for him. “I didn’t even know you were back.”

He looks different. Of course he looks different. It’s been eleven months. He must have grown at least two inches. The same Cedarville basketball shirt he always wore freshman year fits him slightly tighter, showcasing his very, very nice arms. Basketball has certainly been good to him.

I can’t stop staring at him.

I need to stop staring at him.

I blink and say, “I got in last night.”

The secretary clears her throat, an obvious gesture to gain his attention. Jay glances over at her and then holds his schedule up to me. “They put me in art history instead of basketball.”

“They gave me mostly freshman classes.”

“Holding you to your true potential?”

Without thinking, I give him a playful shove. He laughs, but I’m alarmed by my extent of physical contact. Heat flushes from my toes to the very tip of my brain, but I don’t think he notices because he’s already walking over to the front desk.

My gaze drops to my outfit. I should have tried a little harder this morning. All of a sudden, my coral blouse feels boxy and unflattering. And—oh god. We were standing so close. Could he see the unfortunate breakout across my forehead? Wait, what does it mean if I’m worried about my zits around Jay? I wasn’t worried about it around Lin.

I’m debating whether my butt is comparable to the size of Jupiter in these jeans when Jay comes back and stands next to me.

“So,” he says, sliding his hands in his pockets. “Your dad is back?”

“Yeah,” I say, and we fall into an awkward pause of silence.

Jay knows my family. When my dad first started AA and seemed to be doing better, Jay would come over for dinner and watch all my Crime Boss with us. One weekend he even helped us assemble my IKEA nightstand I ordered online and laughed at all my dad’s tool puns.

“I’m so glad we didn’t screw this up.”

Jay high fived him. “You nailed that joke, Mr. Seneca.”

“STOP,” I yelled, but I was laughing. “You’re worse than him!”

But when my dad’s drinking binges worsened, I stopped inviting Jay over. I knew Jay was concerned, but I played a role of overconfidence. Of course I was okay. Sure my dad was attending his AA meetings. Everything was fine.

It wasn’t, obviously. I was juggling dance practice and my schoolwork and making sure there were groceries in the fridge and a hot dinner on the table. The nights my dad downed three or more six-packs, I would set my phone alarm for midnight, two a.m., and four a.m. so I could make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep on his back in case he threw up. I started hiding his car keys when I noticed there was nothing but beer cans in the recycle bin.

Jay found me at Lin’s house after I left the police station that day. His mom told him what happened, and I was so ashamed and embarrassed over my dad’s worsening behavior that I burst into tears. He wrapped his arms around me as we stood out on Lin’s front porch. In that moment, that was all I needed.

“It’s supposed to be better this time,” I say, but my words are laced with cynicism.

Jay shifts his weight. I don’t want our first exchange to be uncomfortable so I say, “Anyway. I’m glad I’m back in Cedarville.”

He leans toward me, just slightly. “Yeah? Too rainy for you up there?”

Subject change. Finally.

I grin. “No one even carries umbrellas! I felt like such a tourist.”

“Let me guess. You decided to ditch the umbrella to try and blend in?”

“I invested in a very fashionable raincoat.”

Jay laughs. “Fashionable raincoat? That sounds like an oxymoron.”

“They exist.”

Jay stares at me. A beat passes. Two. “I’m really glad you’re back.”

My heart warms for half a second. He’s probably only saying that to be polite. Definitely not in an I’m-glad-you’re-back-let’s-pick-up-where-we-left-off sort of way.

Right?

“I am, too,” I say.

“Are you trying out for the Wavettes this year?”

“Yeah.” I fiddle with the strap of my shoulder bag. “I actually wanted to talk to Raegan and Whitney about tryouts, but I haven’t seen them yet.”

Jay’s amused grin dissolves as if he’s swallowed something bitter. That’s when it hits me. There will be no picking up where we left off with Jay. Not when he’s dating Whitney, whose name suddenly tastes like charcoal.

I cringe at my own thoughts. She’s one of your best friends.

“Right.” Jay distinctly appears uncomfortable. He won’t make eye contact with me. “I’m sure they’ll help you with the new dances and… whatever.”