Page 52 of Actions and Reactions
“We’re almost there, just one more block.” Her grip tightens around my forearm with the same urgency that’s in her voice.
He’s coming back.
He wants to get better.
He thinks he’s insane and that he doesn’t know who he is.
And that I’m the only one who really knows him, even more than he knows himself.
I don’t know about that, not anymore. I was so busy “giving him time,” trying not to spook him with my love, that I stopped seeing him.
Maybe the Silas I know is no longer who he is. Maybe he never will be.
But he’ll be back.
Whatever happens when he is, I better be sure by then who it is I love and what I can have with him.
Mom opens my door, and I didn’t even realize we were in my building’s underground garage, but the way she hugs me reminds me I’m still crying.
We stay like that for a while, until I can finally stop.
“Thank you, Mom.” I kiss her cheek then finally lean back.
Her blue eyes shine with unshed tears. She was never one to hold back. I got my impulsiveness from her, but I have been holding back, and I think it’s time I stop that.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” She cups my cheek and wipes away another tear that’s falling.
“I think I fucked up, Mom. If I’d just let things be, then maybe he’d be okay.” The raspiness in my voice betrays just how devastated I am. The tears helped, but only a little, and only for a moment.
“I really don’t think you have that much power, honey,” she murmurs and combs my hair away from my face.
“I’m the only one who knows him,” I tell her, and she doesn’t have an answer to that.
14
Silas
When I wakeup the next day, I immediately reach for my phone and see the Pirates had a shutout yesterday.
A cheer gets lodged halfway up my throat, though, when I recognize that anger lurking behind the pride.
It scares me.
What if I can never get rid of it?
What if all the therapists I’m going to see in a week tell me I can’t work for the Pirates or can’t be close to hockey again?
Would that include Vinny?
No.
I’mnotaccepting that.
He’s living our dream. I will not let that be the reason why we never get our friendship back—relationship, whatever.
I remember the messages I sent last night, but like the coward I’ve proven to be, I can’t make myself check if he answered.
In the light of day, I can’t say I regret what I said, not exactly, but I am a bit embarrassed by it. It was soneedyand fucking confusing, really. I’m all over the place and I can’t seem to focus on much at a time.
