Page 44 of The Cheerleader

“You remember me from nine years ago. You remember what happened, but now I guess you don’t care. You’re sorry you ever⁠—”

“No. I mean yes, I remember you.” She flutters her hand and shrugs from my grip because I loosen it, relieved that she’s admitting to that much. She aims her eyes at mine and opens them up all the way, letting everything inside her show, and… holy shit.

“I’m not sorry. How could I be? Why would I be? The only thing I’m sorry about is that I didn’t really help you. I gave you candy and… that’s so embarrassing right now because it was stupid and silly and⁠—”

And painfully sweet. “You thought about me since then?” My blood hums so loud in my head I wonder if she’ll hear it, if I’m going to explode with too much emotion erupting to the surface, all of it suppressed for too long. My hand shakes, and so I withdraw it from her.

She nods. And stares.

“Did you tell Liz⁠—”

“No.” The word is sharp and quick, and I realize she kept our encounter secret.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. You told me not to. The whole thing felt… unreal, like a dream, like you were…” She lifts her hands in the air and lets out a breath. “You know what I mean.”

I do. I know exactly what she means, know the word that’s missing, that she refuses to say. It was life-altering. For both of us. For different reasons. I want to know her reason.

But there’s no way I’m going to ask. I have no right.

I pull back and swipe the hair from my forehead. “It was a long time ago.”

“But you remembered it. You remembered me.”

“Like you said. You gave me candy.” I give her a half smile, and it barely hurts. Her return smile more than makes up for it. “In your defense, you also gave me the shirt off your back.” Fuck. Leave it alone, Bryan.

Her cheeks pink up, but her smile widens.

“But then I bet that’s the kind of thing you do all the time.”

She shakes her head vigorously, reminding me of her little girl self. “No, believe me. I’ve never had another encounter like that one. You were in such distress. I’d swear you needed an ambulance. I was stunned when you got up and… left me there—I mean, you walked away. With all that blood. Your arm…” She looks at my arm now, reaching for it.

I’m wearing a T-shirt, so I accommodate her, pushing the short sleeve up to show her the scar. She sucks in a breath and retreats.

“It’s almost as bad as I imagined it would be.”

“I hope you’re not going into nursing.”

She laughs. “No. You’re right, I’m a big baby, aren’t I?”

“You weren’t that day.” My words are low and gruff. “Thank you. I never said thank you.”

She nods, her smile so tender it hurts, so I do what I always do in the face of tenderness; I look away, back down, run, and hide myself inside the impenetrable shell I’ve built.

Except that day I didn’t hide. And that’s how I made it home, made it through the devastation of learning how bad Liz’s father really was. I let the kindness of a nameless little girl carry me.

Inhaling deeply, I rake my fingers through my hair again.

“I wanted to know why you went out of your way to help me and to say thank you. I don’t want to make a big deal about it.”

“Right. I mean, it’s funny that we’ve run into each other after all these years. What a coincidence.”

“We both know Liz.”

She nods, realizing maybe it was inevitable.

She’s still staring at me with a confusing-as-hell expression, and I open my notebook to the first page, blank except for all the lines I need to fill in. Time to put in the work, Granger.