36
Sunday, August 3rd
Blake
Zip’s Diner is pretty slow for the Sunday lunch crowd, but that’s probably because most kids are still off campus. This place won’t start experiencing its normal hustle and bustle until classes begin at the end of the month.
Finn, Ace, and I sit at a booth in the back corner and start to dig into our meals of burgers and fries after Zip drops them off with his usual jolly grin.
Ace snags the ketchup bottle from the center of the table and squirts an ungodly amount onto the top of his burger. It’s so much fucking ketchup that when he smashes the bun on top, red liquid flows down the sides and onto his plate.
And when he takes a big-ass bite, ketchup drips onto his hands and face.
“Dude,” I say on a laugh. “That’s foul.”
“What?” Ace asks through a big smile, grabbing a napkin to swipe across his face as he does. “You got a problem with my love for ketchup?”
“Yeah,” I retort. “I do.”
Finn laughs when I mime gagging, and Ace just picks up the bottle of ketchup and proceeds to squirt a shitload of it onto my fries.
“You’re such a dick,” I say, but Ace gives zero fucks. Instead, he just shrugs and takes another bite of his gross burger.
Only a brief moment of silence lasts while we eat before Ace is opening up his pie hole again, half-masticated bite and all. “All right, Finnley. I think it’s time you tell us why you wanted this little Sunday lunch. I mean, I don’t mind it one bit, but it’s not exactly within your God-given role as the group grumpy ass.”
Finn smiles despite the insult. “I have news.”
But he doesn’t give the news, and I know it’s on purpose because he loves teasing the hell out of Ace. Normally, I find it charming and amusing. Right now, I hate it. But I also hate the air, water, wind, and sea, despite their lack of sentiency, so my loathing isn’t an impugnment of my friends’ personalities, but rather, my own.
I’ve been little more than a miserable human being since Friday.
“And?” Ace questions, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Are you going to tell us the news, or do I gotta fucking guess, man?”
Finn’s responding smile is sly. “Do you want to guess?”
“No,” Ace snaps. “I want you to fucking tell me.”
“You sure you don’t want to guess, Acer?”
“For fuck’s sake, man. Just tell us.”
“Calm your tits.” Finn laughs. “I’ll tell you, but first, I want to finish eating my burger.”
“What the fuck?” Ace questions, and God, I wish my chest didn’t ache this badly so I could laugh.
“Okay. Okay.” Finn gestures a hand in the air. “You can untwist your panties, bro.”
Ace lets out an annoyed sigh, but to his benefit, Finn finally starts to explain.
“Scottie had her follow-up with Dr. Raines yesterday afternoon. And he thinks he has treatment options for her.”
The mere mention of Lexi’s dad is salt in an already painful wound, but I swallow the discomfort and focus on my friend. News of treatment options for my paralyzed friend trump any and all personal crises—quite frankly, it would change her entire life.
“Treatment options?” I ask. “What does that mean?”
“He wants her to do some kind of nerve graft surgery along with a course of medication that is supposed to help the damaged nerves of her spinal cord regenerate and heal,” Finn explains. “He’s been doing heavy research with these very treatments while he was in Germany and feels really confident about it. Though, there are some risks involved.”
“What would the treatment achieve?” Ace asks.
“He thinks he can fucking heal her. He thinks he can make Scottie walk again.”
Both Ace’s and my mouths gape widely, and I feel the first tingle of tears as they sting the backs of my eyes. It’s joy and pain and hope and despair all in one. The genius of Lexi’s paternal DNA is a brilliant, vibrant display for Scottie’s healing—and a brutal reminder of the remarkable woman who won’t admit she loves me back.
“What?” Ace shouts, so loudly that even Zip glances over at us in confusion. “He thinks he can make her walk again ?”
“Yeah.” Finn nods, clearly understanding the dramatic reaction. I mean, holy fucking shit, I’m literally about to cry .
For Finn, though, there’s no “about to” about it. He wipes furiously at his face, and neither Ace nor I mentions it. “I know, man. It’s incredible .” His mouth curves up as he gets control of the tears. “Scottie…” He pauses. “She… It would have been okay, you know? Both of us have come to terms, and I love her no matter the state of her body. But to get this hope back…” He shakes his head. “It’s everything . She’s practically freaking sparkling, she’s so happy.”
Ace reaches out and clamps a hand on Finn’s shoulder, squeezing and shaking him slowly. The air is so charged around Finn right now, the whole diner can feel it.
“She’s happy. You’re happy. And I’m happy. In fact, I’m so fucking happy, I could kiss Nick motherfucking Raines on the mouth,” Ace says, and for the first time at this lunch, all three of us laugh.
Finn nods. “Lexi was there, and even her emotionless poker face slipped for a full thirty seconds.”
Emotionless poker face . Boy, do I know what he means by that.
But I also know why Lexi is the way she is and all the ways that makes her special. I know it. And yet…it’s the reason we’re not together anymore, too. And that fucking sucks.
“Is she going to do it?” Ace questions, and I make myself pay attention to the conversation, even though my mind just wants to loop on thoughts of Lexi and how much I fucking miss her.
“I don’t know.” Finn shrugs. “She’s talking it over with her dad and sister.”
“Do you want her to do it?” I ask.
“I don’t know that either,” Finn answers. “I mean, it’s ultimately up to her. I’ll support whatever she decides, but I can’t deny that the risks of the surgery are scary. I just want her to be safe, you know? I don’t know how I’d cope if anything happened to her.”
Ace’s eyebrows rise subtly, and I nod. We both know how Finn would cope—with an inordinate number of fists in faces.
He loves her for her—a love that, at its core, is one of ultimate acceptance and embracing another person for everything they are—their strengths, their weaknesses, their flaws, their everything. He doesn’t give a shit if she is going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. He just wants her to be there, beside him, forever.
And that’s how you love Lexi too.
The thought is a steel-toed boot in my gut. I love Lexi for everything that she is. Hell, even the quirkiest things about her are utterly endearing to me.
I love the way she thinks. I love the way she responds. I love everything about her—even the parts of her that make me hurt like this waiting for her to figure out she feels the same.
Ace and Finn continue to talk about Scottie’s possible surgery, and while I want to give my friend all my attention—I know I should—I can’t stop myself from pulling my phone out of my pocket and sending Lexi a message.
We haven’t spoken since Friday night, but I’ll be damned if I’m just going to walk away from her without a fucking fight.
Me: I don’t like how things ended on Friday, Lex. When you’re ready, we need to talk.
I guess I shouldn’t be shocked when, a minute later, no response comes. And after another five minutes and ten minutes and fifteen minutes pass by, I still haven’t heard a peep from her.
But I’ll wait. That’s what love does.
For the next two weeks, I’ll be fully immersed in Dragons’ football anyway, on the practice field or in the weight room for at least eight hours a day until August 19th. And after that, we’ll be balls deep into preparing for our first game of the season on August 30th against Georgia.
I’ll barely have time to sleep, much less eat.
It’ll be the perfect distraction. I’ve walked away and waited for Lexi before. I can do it again.
Right?
Ha. Good luck with that.