Chapter 16
COOPER
“You okay?”
Felix had been quiet when I’d come to pick Benji up after class, promising my dad I’d put in a few extra hours next week to make up for taking off early.
The day was beautiful, blue skies dotted with cotton candy clouds, a salty breeze coming in off the bay, the sounds of people milling around in the sunshine filling the whole town with a murmur of contentment.
The one storm cloud on the horizon was hanging directly over Felix’s head, and I didn’t know why. He’d seemed fine—happy—when he’d left after breakfast. Something must’ve happened in the meantime.
I wanted to know. I wanted to fold him into a hug until it was okay again.
He was also limping. We were only walking as far as the park where Benji had agreed to meet with some of his non-ballet friends to play this afternoon. It was maybe two, three hundred yards from the studio at most, but halfway there, I wanted to offer to sit down a minute for Felix’s sake.
Benji had skipped ahead, catching up with one of the friends he was meant to be meeting and his mom. I could still see him, but he was far enough away not to overhear us.
“Fine,” Felix said without so much as glancing at me. He was scowling at the pavement like it’d cut him off in traffic.
“You don’t seem fine.”
Felix stopped dead. The look he turned on me made me stop, too. I’d never seen a look on his face like this, sharp and harsh.
“Felix,” I said, voice gentler this time. “You can tell me.”
“Why is everyone getting on my dick today?” Felix asked, face twisting. “I said I was fine.”
“But you’re not,” I said, worry twisting in the pit of my stomach. Something must really have been up with him. I wanted to know what it was. I wanted to help. “You’re limping.”
His glare turned venomous.
“You think I don’t know?” he asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but it came out a low hiss, his jaw tight. “I’m always limping. I always will limp. I can’t do anything about it except try to get back into good enough shape not to rot in obscurity for the rest of my life. I’m fine.”
A tiny hand curled around the leg of my jeans.
Benji.
I glanced down at him and found him looking up at me, worry written all over his little face.
Felix must’ve noticed him at that moment, too, because he got as far as sh— before cutting himself off.
A beat passed in silence, Benji looking between the two of us. His lower lip wasn’t quite trembling, but it was one harsh word away from it.
Felix took a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“I’m… sorry,” he said. “I’m not good company right now. I’ll…” He gestured in the opposite direction. “See you next class.”
I took Benji’s hand as we both watched Felix walk off, back straight and walking so stiffly it made my leg hurt.
“Coop?” Benji asked, voice tiny.
I crouched down so I’d be eye level with him.
“Felix is in a lot of pain,” I said. I wasn’t sure Benji had that figured out yet, and even if he had, he didn’t really understand the concept of being in a lot of pain for any length of time the way Felix was.
I’d hurt my back once, and I remembered how frustrating the two-week recovery was.
Felix had been dealing with this for a lot longer than two weeks.
It was a miracle he didn’t snap at everyone all the time.
I also remember how annoyed I’d gotten when people kept asking if I was okay. I had just wanted to help, but maybe I ought to have known better.
“You know how you get cranky when you’ve got a cold?” I asked, remembering a grumpy little Benji telling me to go away in the saddest raspy voice when he’d gotten sick the week before Christmas.
Benji nodded.
“It’s like that,” I said. “You didn’t mean to hurt me, and Felix didn’t mean to hurt either of us. He’s just cranky because he’s uncomfortable. Okay?”
Benji nodded again, biting his lip.
“Can we help?” he asked.
Of course he did. He was the best kid in the whole world, and he adored Felix.
“I think we have to leave him alone,” I said. “And I know he wouldn’t want to ruin your afternoon. So I think the best thing we can do for him is forgive him and go play. Sound good?”
Benji’s nod this time wasn’t as enthusiastic as it could’ve been, but by the time we reached the park and he ran off to meet the rest of his friends, he seemed to have recovered.
That made one of us.