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He chuckled behind me, and I considered clobbering him over the head with one of the things. Focused on the crutches and not tripping, I didn’t realize there was someone new in the room until she spoke.
“There he is,” a familiar voice lamented as she moved closer. “Oh, Wes, are you okay?”
My head lifted, the bottom of one crutch scuffing across the floor. “Veronica?”
She smiled. “Wasn’t sure you’d recognize me without my Shirley’s uniform.”
I nodded, not really sure what I was supposed to say as I took in her skinny jeans and light-colored sweater beneath an open black peacoat. Her brown hair was pulled up into those two buns toward the back of her head, and a few wisps fell around her ears. She had a red crossbody bag slashed over her torso and a pair of high-top sneakers on her feet.
Still not sure what to say, I glanced over at my friends.
Madison stepped forward first. “Veronica stopped by to see if you’re okay.”
Veronica smiled and held up a paper bag. “I brought food.” Lowering the bag, she gazed at me. “Thought you might be hungry.”
My stomach churned, refuting her words.
“Wow, ah, thank you. You didn’t have to do all that.”
I felt Max hovering just behind me, but even if I wasn’t practically a magnet for his presence, I would have known he was there by the way Veronica’s blue eyes slid to him warily, then snapped back to me.
Smiling, she said, “Of course. As soon as word got out about your accident, everyone at the diner was so worried.”
“The waiting room is actually full of people,” Rory added.
I drew back. “What? Why?”
“Elite,” Ryan murmured.
Sometimes I forgot how much attention Elite swimmers got at Westbrook. Especially since I spent all my time trying to stay out of the spotlight.
“If everyone else is out there, how’d you get in here?” Max asked.
“Max,” I warned out of the corner of my mouth.
He ignored me.
“She brought food,” Jamie said like it was obvious.
“You left the diner last night kinda in a hurry. I didn’t even get to say bye, and then I heard about the accident. I tried to visit last night, but they wouldn’t let me back.”
I only heard about half of what she said, and then a whirring sound was silencing out everything else, and it felt like I was being sucked into a tunnel to be spit out into a memory.
Last night.
The way I’d fought any closeness to Max. The way he hugged me anyway, and I’d given in. The relief of that touch, the weight of his attention. How infinite suffering was worth five minutes of his comfort.
The girl.
The bathroom.
The horrendous gut punch of having everything he’d offered ripped back out of me along with parts that weren’t even his.
I’d rushed from the diner. Confused, disappointed… throbbing with hurt.
He didn’t want me. He never would.
I disgusted him. Wait, no. My feelings for him disgusted him.
