Page 38 of Holding On

"I'm not ready to delete it. But I will. Eventually I will."

It infuriates me that she has so much power over him, even all these months later. And that she has power over me. Her actions are the reason I'm here, living in this town, living with Mike. If it weren't for her, I'd still be in nursing school.

A half hour later, we're still standing outside. We were told there wasn't a fire but the firemen still have to go through and check the building, which takes forever.

"Do you have the time?" someone asks Mike. I look over and see a woman with blond hair and a very fit body, wearing yoga pants and a white tank. She's probably 25 or 26.

Mike does a double take. She's pretty and he noticed. That's a good sign. It shows he's over Tricia enough to be attracted to other girls.

"Sorry, I don't have my phone," he says.

"You have a watch," I tell him. Apparently he forgot about the sports watch on his wrist. Is it because this girl has captured his attention? I wonder who she is. I haven't seen her before.

"Oh. That's right." He smiles like a nervous school boy encountering a cute girl. I've never seen him act this way. He's always so sure of himself. He checks his watch. "It's eight-thirty."

"Thanks." She smiles and extends her hand to him. "I'm Heather."

"Mike." He shakes her hand. "And this is my sister..." He glances at me like he forgot my name. Seriously?

"Becca," I say, shaking her hand. "Did you just move in?"

"Last week. I moved here for a job. I'm a nurse at the hospital. I work on the burn unit."

A nurse. So she takes care of people. Wants to help people. Sounds like Mike.

"Becca's studying to be a nurse," Mike says.

"Oh, yeah?" Heather forces her eyes back to me but keeps glancing at Mike. She's definitely interested in him.

"I took classes for a year and a half," I tell her, "but I'm taking a break right now. I'll finish up later."

"What school?"

"It's a community college in Cincinnati." I always act embarrassed when I say that, like it's not a real school because they don't hand out bachelor degrees. But I shouldn't be that way, especially since I say I don't care what people think. When I finally graduate, I'll still be getting a degree and I should be proud of that.

"And how about you?" she asks Mike. "What do you do?"

"Still figuring that out," he says with a nervous laugh. Wow. He must really like her if he's still feeling nervous around her. She is really cute and has a great body. Mike loves working out and she obviously does too, so these two would get along great.

"He has a podcast," I say. "It's really popular. He gets thousands of views."

"What's it about?" she asks him.

"It's for veterans. I talk about PTSD, adjusting to civilian life after being deployed, how to get used to life with a prosthetic." He glances down at his leg. He's wearing cargo shorts so you can't help but notice his prosthetic and yet I don't think Heather did until he pointed it out.

"That happened overseas?" She sounds genuinely interested and concerned. Most people don't even ask. It makes them too uncomfortable.

"A bomb went off in our camp." His voice is flat, stoic. He's detached all emotion from the event. It's the only way he can deal with it. "I was the only survivor."

"I'm so sorry." She touches his arm. "I don't know how you guys do it. How you put yourself in danger like that."

"It's what I always wanted to do. Now that I can't, I've gotta figure out something else."

She puts her hand back at her side. "I'd love to see your podcast. Can you send me the link?"

"Sure." He pats his pockets. "I don't have anything to write down your info."

"I'm in apartment six. You can just stop down sometime. Or I can come to your place."

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