Page 7 of The Perfect Love

“Call me or I’ll call you and be extra annoying,” Mom says sweetly.

“Oh, I know.”

“Hey!”

“I mean, I love you!” I blow a kiss in their direction and climb into the car.

They wave as I start my car and drive away from the large country-style house down the long gravel drive and past the gate at the end of it.

It’s not until I’m about to turn out of the driveway that I remember I have one last stop to make.

An important one, but also the hardest.

I need to say goodbye to my dad.

Pain radiates through my left leg and hip as I break above the lake water and suck in a breath. Swimming is supposed to be low impact, but I guess moving boxes for an hour, plus racing my friends down the dock over and over before jumping into the lake were not low impact activities. I grip one of the posts of the dock as I hobble out of the water.

It’s moments like this where I swear I can feel every fracture in my leg. I can pinpoint the exact spots where the breaks were, where rods or pins were put in, or where pieces of me were cut away and replaced with new ones.

A knee and partial hip replacement wasn’t on my bucket list for my sophomore year of college, but neither was losing control of my snowboard and bouncing off a few trees.

I may have won the battle, but I still lost.

Lost the future I was planning for myself. A shot at playing baseball professionally. Now, I have to live with never playing again. Not like that. Sure, I’ll probably play in some rec league with my friends one day, but it’s not the same.

I wince my way up the stairs, limping like I’m still freshly recovering.

“You okay?” Amanda Hamilton leaps out of the Adirondack chair she’s sitting in and comes over to me.

Amanda is the most recent addition to the craziness that is this friend group. While I consider them some of my closest friends, the six of them still goofing around on the lawn have been ride-or-die since they were six years old. Amanda, who lives in one of the nearby towns to Ida, New York—where we all grew up—met them during their freshman year of college and quickly became the long lost seventh member of their little group. But since she’s newer, she’s not part of the hive mind as much as the rest of them.

Amanda and I hit it off quickly because she’s feisty and funny and doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She also speaks fluent sarcasm. All essential things for a solid friendship with me.

She’s also a mother hen, and wraps her arm around me, guiding me to a chair next to the one she vacated.

“I’m okay. Just did a little too much today.” Sometimes I let myself forget everything, then I have a moment like this and realize that’s impossible. “One day, I’ll age into my body, right?”

She laughs. “Exactly. And when you do, you’ll be a step ahead of us because you’ve already had your knee replaced. You’ll be running circles around us.” Her face softens. “Want a beer?”

I toss a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Thanks.”

She nods, and returns a second later with a beer for me and a hard cider for her.

“So, how are you feeling about being here? New school? Living with the hive mind?”

She leans back in her chair and puts her feet up on the railing. I stare out at the lake and take it all in.

“Pretty good. I’m excited for the possibilities. I’m not sure I’ll ever stop being bummed about losing my shot at going pro or just playing for longer, but it is what it is, and I’m refusing to let baseball go. I already asked Aaron and Joel to put in a good word with their coach. I can’t play, but I want to be involved with the team.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way. Just turn on the annoying Trevor charm.”

“Rude. I’m never annoying. Fabulous is the word you’re looking for. Maybe incredible.”

“Obnoxious. Over the top.”

“I think we must be speaking different languages.”

She laughs. “Totally selfish, but I’m glad you’re here. We always had the most fun when you and Hy would come to visit us and we’d spend a weekend here. Now we get to live like that all the time. Minus Hyla, but she’ll just have to come visit.”

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