Page 62 of Versions Of Us

At first, I don’t see him but as I inch toward the water, his large form comes into view. He sits in an old canoe that lies on the bank, head down, shoulders hunched, his elbows resting on his knees. We used to row out onto the river in this thing, but it’s looking worse for wear now, a giant gaping split in its side.

The sun sits high in the sky, its light pouring down through the old elm tree, speckling the ground with the shadows of its leaves. A piece of bark crunches under my foot and Henley’s head snaps upward at the sound. He watches me as I cautiously step forward, a mixture of apology and hurt in his eyes. He pats the canoe seat across from him, beckoning for me to join him.

My bottom lip curls under my teeth as I give a slight shake of my head. I’m scared, I realise, to be in such close proximity to him. Because I don’t know if I can handle seeing him as fragile as he was yesterday. And because I’m not sure if I can be trusted to keep my hands to myself.

“Come on, Kris,” he begs, his eyebrows pulling down in a frown.

I’m taken aback by the emotion in his voice. I surrender and climb into the canoe, but not without gritted teeth and a heavy heart. As much as I care about him, and as concerned as I am about whatever it is that’s causing his anxiety, I’m really not looking forward to having a heart to heart about his girlfriend. He looks up at me, trouble brewing in those baby blues.

“Yesterday wasn’t… This isn’t what you think. It’s not what it looks like.” His jaw clenches as he swallows.

“Really?” I squint in mock thought. “Because it looks like you brought some girl back from wherever the hell you’ve been and invited her to live with you.”

He blows out a long breath. “Well, yeah. I guess that part’s true.” I sigh and begin to stand but he reaches forward, his touch like fire on my forearm. “But she’s a friend. She’s just a friend.”

“Whatever you say. It’s not really my business. We aren’t together anymore.” I feign disinterest and ready myself to step out of the canoe.

Something in his eyes stops me, an unexpected anguish that’s only surface deep. I try to remind myself that this is what he wanted.

He made this choice.

He gazes down at the canoe, running his hands along its worn sides.

“Remember when we used to take this thing out? Spend all day just rowing down the river.” I don’t say anything, but he continues anyway. “Remember that day we had that crazy fight and you threatened to jump out and swim to shore? I never thought you actually would. And then you started screaming because an eel wrapped itself around your leg.” He smiles at the memory and the corners of my mouth twitch upward involuntarily.

“Yeah. And you thought you were such a big man coming to my rescue.” I sit back down opposite him, mentally exhausted from this exchange.

I remember that day as clear as anything. Henley had come to my aid, pulling me up into the canoe. I’d been furious at him for laughing at me, but when he’d wrapped his arms around me and kissed me anyway, I’d allowed myself to fall into him, his hard chest warm and comforting.

Like home.

Henley shakes his head with a tight grin. “What were we fighting about anyway?”

“I caught you flirting with Sheree Clayton in fifth period.”

The smile fades from his lips. “I was a stupid kid.”

“Yeah. What’s your excuse now?” He looks at me like I’ve stabbed a spear through his heart. “Who is she?”

His jaw ticks again before answering. “Mackenzie. She needed a place to stay. She had nowhere else to go.”

“So, what?” I question. “You just picked this girl up off the side of the road because she needed a place to stay.”

“That’s actually a pretty accurate way of putting it, yeah.”

“There’s only one bed in the loft.”

I search his face, looking for signs that he’s being dishonest. Henley tends to look to the left when he lies, sometimes scratching at a spot in his eyebrow. He doesn’t do either of those things this time.

“Yeah. Tell me about it.” He manages a half laugh. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch since we got here. I think I need to see a chiropractor.”

My head tilts to the side in suspicion. “Since when are you the type to take in random blonde strays?”

“This is different. You don’t understand.” He shakes his head, dropping his stare to his feet.

“How can I possibly understand!?” I cry. I’m angry now. His statement has me seething. “You’re not telling me anything! You turn up here after six goddamn months like you’re a different person, with a new girl staying at your place.”

“I’m sorry. There are things I can’t say, no matter how much I want to tell you. Mackenzie has her own stuff going on and it’s not my place to tell her story.” He sighs again, defeated. His eyes are glassy. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for what I did. But I need you to believe that I’m not the heartless jerk you think I am.”

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