Chapter 11 Pike #2
As soon as she succumbs to her exhaustion, I wish I could do the same.
Kal starts telling me about his plans for cross-country skiing tomorrow.
That sport is some next-level bullshit. I’ll never forget my dad putting me on cross-country skis and shoving me down a hill.
It’s like running on an elliptical in the snow, but you end up on your ass with every tiny slope.
“When you’re back on your feet full-time,” Kal says, “you should come with me.”
“My doctors say I’m already doing better than expected. So get used to me like this, yeah?”
“Oh, sure. Sorry. Do you want to join my beach volleyball team this summer? There’s an amputee on one of the teams. He plays with crutches.”
Beach volleyball sounds mildly entertaining, and Charlotte Beach, where they play, is pretty nice.
But when I was in the hospital, my mom made me watch documentaries on injured athletes finding “a new purpose.” A lot of them were amputees.
At first, I looked up to them, thinking their stories could give me hope.
But now I know that everyone with a disability is different from the next—even those with the same condition.
I’m also not big on team sports. The best part of snowboarding is the way adrenaline makes all the noise in your life disappear when you’re flying down the mountain or nailing a massive trick. I don’t have a way to clear my mind like that anymore.
“With my knees hurting just walking on pavement,” I say, “I can’t imagine they’d feel better on uneven sand. I definitely can’t jump.”
“You don’t have to jump,” he says graciously.
I stab at the floor with my cane. “Can you let it go?”
“Seriously,” Skylar mumbles. “He obviously has no desire to participate.”
Kal glances in the rearview mirror, then back over at me. “Sorry for pushing. You know I’d never make you do something you don’t want to do, right? I’m just glad you’re back.” He claps my shoulder. “No pressure. We can meet for lunch and play video games for all I care.”
“Thanks,” I say. “Maybe I’ll come check out volleyball sometime. As a spectator.”
“Or come chill in the sauna after. It’ll be good for your muscles.”
Skylar coughs. “What sauna?”
“He has a sauna in his house.” I suppress a smile, imagining her eyebrows shooting up. She probably thinks we’re a bunch of rich assholes.
“Saunas are pretty common for Scandinavians,” he says, but damn it, he doesn’t say which type. “You should stop by sometime with Pike.”
“Ew, no way,” she says, startling a laugh out of me.
Kal’s confidence briefly falters, and in that moment, I think I could fall in love with Skylar King.
You know. If this were real.
“I know your relationship’s fake,” Kal says. “You can still come.”
“Saunas are disgusting,” she says. “I can’t handle a lot of heat.”
I think she means due to IIH, but she doesn’t mention it. I feel bad for telling Kal she even had pain at all. But she explains that her dysautonomia affects body functions like breathing, digestion, and heart rate, and that heat makes her symptoms worse.
“My best friend doesn’t like it either. She says sweating with someone is nasty.” Kal smiles to himself.
By the time we reach Skylar’s town house, the sting in my body is less consuming, and I’m drowsy as fuck. But as I watch Skylar trudge up the walkway, her shoulders hunched, I can’t shake my guilt.
“Hang on.”
I climb out of the car. It’s too low to the ground, and with my unstable knee, I stumble a little. Kal’s hand lands on my back.
“I’m fine.” I’m not, but I don’t have time to unpack my wheelchair.
Walking is excruciating. My patella won’t track. My back muscles feel like they’re cutting into the delicate wire of my spine.
Skylar pivots when she hears me.
“Listen,” I say, “I’m sorry about how everything turned out. Can I take you to your appointment tomorrow?”
I imagine her squinting at me beneath her shades. “You can’t get enough of me, can you, Brandon Pike?”
“I’ll pick you up so you don’t have to drive. It’s the least I can do after not getting you home safely.”
“You don’t even have a car.”
“So I’ll call us a ride.” I pull out my phone, but the screen swims. Between pain, dehydration, bad sleep, and the sedative effects of my oxy, I can barely see straight. “What time?”
She fiddles with the drawstring of my hoodie, pulling it snug around her frizzy hair before letting it go slack again. “Why do you want to come?”
“I go to all your doctor’s appointments with you so you’re not alone, remember?”
She cracks a smile.
“I read that sometimes women have better outcomes with doctors if a man is present. So why not use me?” Yikes. Sounded like a bad pickup line. “In all seriousness, Skylar, I appreciate that you came all the way out to Naples and helped me with my mom. You’re different than I expected.”
She cocks her head, considering me. “You know, so are you.”
“See you tomorrow, then? If we both manage to drag ourselves out of bed somehow after all this?”
“Fine. Be here by nine. I’m leaving if you’re even a minute late.”
I smile to myself as I head back to the car. It’s refreshing how she always says what she’s thinking. I wish I could do that.
Kal gives me a shit-eating grin. “Looks like someone’s caught feelings.”
“What?” I bark.
“All right, all right. Just messing with you.”
And because I don’t know what to say, and I definitely can’t board, I pull out my phone and jot down some words.