Page 87 of On His Schedule
My chest tightens. “I know exactly what I want.”
“Then prove it by leaving her alone until she has time to figure out what she wants. Without you in her face. Give her room. If you actually like her, give her space. You come on so fucking strong, and that’s why I called you the day I found out she was going to be your tutor.”
“Okay,” I say. Everything’s starting to make sense now.
“Okay?” She raises her eyebrows at me.
“I’ll switch tutors.”
She nods once. “I need space too. From you. For a while.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. There’s no point in arguing.
“I love you. You’ll always be my big brother, but I need space.”
“Okay.”
She looks at me one more time. “Go get cleaned up now. You’re a wreck.”
She walks past me to the front door and calls for Mara. Mara walks over and asks if she’s okay. They murmur amongst themselves and then walk down the steps and around the corner.
I sit on the porch railing for a long time.
The night is still. The maple tree across the street has gone red. There is a streetlight on the corner flashing orange. A car goes past doing the speed limit. My head is empty in a way it has not been in three weeks. Empty is not the right word. There’s one sentence in it, and it’s sitting there.
Find a new tutor.
I get up and go inside.
Stanley is at the kitchen island with the bag of peas on his elbow. He sees me come in and says nothing. The dishwasher’s running. Walsh’s girlfriend is at the sink rinsing red Solo cups.Rowan is wiping down the counter with a paper towel and a bottle of spray. Blue and Percy aren’t around.
“Stanley,” I mutter.
“Yeah, cap.”
“Give me the rink keys.”
“What?”
“I know you have them.”
“Reeve. It’s eleven forty.”
“I know.”
“You okay?”
I stare at him.
He says, “You’re drunk.”
“Shut up and give me the keys. I’ll still be skating in my grave.”
He looks at me for a long beat. I watch him decide not to be a dick about this. He sets the peas down on the island and reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keychain. He thumbs the small silver key off the ring. He holds it out.
“Clean yourself up, man. You have dried blood fucking everywhere.”
“Yeah.” I take the key and go upstairs. I enter the bathroom and stare at my bloody face. This is what I looked like when I walked Lucy home? Jesus Christ, I need to get my shit together. I splash warm water on my face and scrub off the blood. I look closely at my lip and know that I’ll be hearing it from Coach on Monday.
