“Probably shouldn’t talk about yourself in the third person,” I advise, looking over at him with wide eyes to communicate that we could be overheard at any point.
He sighs and nods his head in sad exhaustion. Quietly, he requests, “Let’s get out of here as fast as possible. Being Ja…mehas been a lot today.”
“Sure, we can head straight out. I got all I needed for tonight before I came to practice,” I answer, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze.
We pick up the pace toward the school’s front entrance—the closest exit to the student parking lot. The school looks deserted, the few minutes I spent with our coach being enough of a head start that the rest of the team has already bolted for home. I let the silence between us stretch for a few twists and turns throughout the quiet halls. It’s a relief to focus my mind on Felix’s problems instead of my own.
When we reach the main hall, I ask, “Do you want to talk about today?” in my soothing counselor’s voice—a skill I learned from listening to my dad.
“Only if you talk about what’s up with you too,” he responds, giving me a challenging side-eye.
So much for ignoring my problems. “Fine, I’ll talk about it,” I grumble, wishing that Felix was a little more self-absorbed. “You first.”
Pushing open the school’s main entrance door, he looks to see if anyone is around. It appears that the front lawn is completely abandoned, and the parking lot only has a handful of cars. In the distance, Dave’s white Jeep turns right off campus, and Felix sighs with relief.
When we start heading over to D’s and my shared truck, Felix takes a moment, expelling a deep breath, then quietly confesses, “It’s everything to do with James, pretending to be him all the time and not knowing how I’m supposed to act anymore. It feels like no matter what I do, I’m hurting someone.”
“I’m guessing today it was Dave,” I surmise, glancing over at him to gauge his expression. All his features crowd in the center of his face in a tired, depressed frown.
“I hate complaining, especially to you,” Felix admits, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “What you and Callie did for me… it was amazing and exactly what I wanted. A second chance. The enormity of being able to touch, smell, and taste again is indescribable. Iamgrateful.”
“But…” I supply in a tone that conveys no form of judgment.
He sniffs, blinks, and clears his throat before answering, “But I didn’t consider what the consequences of taking over someone’s life would be. Everyone has people, you know? People who, for better or worse, are part of your life. All I thought about wasmypeople. You, the guys, and Callie. I never considered James’s people.”
I try not to flinch every time I hear Callie’s name, pushing down my looming anxiety so I can do what I do best—take care of others. Humming my acknowledgment of his difficulty, I let silence do its job and give Felix time to organize his thoughts. I keep glancing over at him while he stares at his feet as we walk, watching but not seeing what’s going on around him.
We’re almost to the truck before he finds the words he needs. “It was one thing to break up with Bree. No matter what, that was the right thing to do. I’m not the person she thinks I am, and it’s wrong to let her think that I am.” He scrubs his face with both hands before continuing. “But Dave? He’s different. He was… is... James’s best friend, and he’s drowning in guilt over the accident.” He grits his teeth for a moment, noticeable by the harsh click in his jaw. “It’s not his fault. James was the one who chose to drink and drive, but everyone treats him like it is his fault since no one wants to be mad at the amnesiac. I’ve tried to get people to lay off him, but I just get treated like a child who doesn’t know what they are talking about.”
“Do you want me to say something? I hadn’t realized he was getting blamed for the accident,” I offer while pulling out the keys for the truck from the front pouch of my backpack.
“I don’t think so. Most of the team sees you as another authority figure. It’d be like the coach telling them to knock it off.” Standing next to the passenger side of the truck, Felix rubs his eyes and mumbles, “All Dave wants is his friend back.” He sighs and looks up at me. It’s a punch in the gut to see how truly tired and frustrated he is. Normally, Felix is the one with a steady supply of smiles and jokes. “Today, he asked if I wanted to hang out to celebrate not being grounded anymore. I said no because I was supposed to do homework with you after practice. It isn’t a total lie, but the truth is, it’s too hard to spend one-on-one time with him. No one knew James like he did, and every moment I’m with him, I feel like I’m being measured and found lacking.”
After unlocking the doors with the key fob, I stuff it in my jeans pocket, and then I meet his eyes so he can see how serious I am when I tell him, “The truth is you and James weren’t as different as you think you are.”
“Oh, I think we are.” He laughs nervously with an odd expression that I don’t understand.
Pressing on, I give him a little shake and explain, “Personality-wise, you both have a lot of similarities. James was mostly an upbeat guy, kind to everyone, and was a huge nerd about the things he loved. It’s only what you nerd out about that are very different.” Releasing a sigh, I get to the advice portion of these kinds of talks. “I know this sounds trite, but simply be yourself. Dave will either like who you are now, or you’ll drift apart. You’ve never been shy about making new friends, so treat him like you would treat any new friend.”
The Felix I know comes back to the surface, issuing me a goofy squint of faux indignation. “So what you’re saying is I should let him teach me about baseball.”
“I’ve seen you nerd out over weirder things.” I laugh, walking over to the driver’s side, the gravel of the parking lot crunching under my feet.
“I was just starting to tutor Ashley Fisher, and I thought she’d find it cute that I knew the entire history and discography of her favorite band,” he reasons in poor defense of his weeklong obsession with a Korean band that few outside of Korea even knew about.
“And did she?” I ask while tucking my backpack behind the driver’s seat, already knowing the answer but enjoying having him say it.
He climbs in on the passenger side, stuffs his backpack next to his feet, and flashes me a glare with no heat. “By the time I could finally bring it up in conversation, her favorite had changed to a British pop band.”
“Exactly. If you can do that for Ashley, you can learn about baseball with Dave. You did commit to continuing to play,” I remind him while settling into the driver’s seat.
After doing my safety checklist, I start the truck and head toward home. Now that he’s alive, Felix has been added back into our homework rotation. Tonight, I have chemistry and he has precalc. The others will copy it tomorrow after school.
The drive isn’t quiet for long, Felix waiting until we’re off campus to discuss the one subject I’d rather leave buried—me.
“Alright, we talked about my problems. Now it’s your turn,” he insists, his gaze fixed on my profile.
Keeping my expression carefully blank, I deflect, “It’s really nothing. Something happened. It’s over now. I’m fine.”
