and turn off the engine. A trail of curses follows me as I dodge a giant puddle that forms in the middle of our driveway each time it rains, forcing me to edge my way around Paxton’s car. His bumper is filthy, so I work to avoid it, too. I’m about to hit the porch when something yanks at my tee and then tugs at my flesh, stopping me. A red, angry slash stares up at me, caused by a banner that a fan had staked into the yard with my own fucking number on it. If I had a good leg to stand on, I’d stomp it to the ground, but my bad luck has seemingly returned with a vengeance.
Inside, Caleb is sitting on the couch, playing a video game. He gives a half-hearted head bob in acknowledgment.
Annoyance clings to my skin as I make my way to the kitchen and discover all the cereal and bread I’d bought on Sunday is gone. I swing open the fridge and find a leftover pizza box from last night. I grab it and don’t bother heating the contents, eating the pizza like it’s feeding my emotions.
My phone buzzes, reminding me of my physical therapy appointment that I’d rather cancel, but Jade’s words are burning through my mind, the smoke still bitter and strong as her prediction of my failure snap me back to the present and my goals. I finish the slice of pizza I’m eating, return the box to the fridge, and try to get my focus back.
22
Olivia
I step into the waiting room to call Luciana back. She’s been coming for six weeks now, trying to strengthen and gain mobility after a massive spinal surgery. She’s one of my favorite regulars at Pivotal—funny, loud, and full of an energy that always leaves me with a smile and a hopeful feeling, even when I only spend a few moments with her.
“Lu—” Her name stops on my lips as Arlo steps in. Dried blood reaches his elbow, making my stomach roll. I move my attention to his face, silently questioning what happened, but my words catch in my throat. There’s something wrong, something I can see in his expression. I smile at the patients who’ve turned to see who I call back and make my way to Arlo. “Are you okay?” I ask him.
His gray eyes are dull, his smile absent. “Think we can start running today?”
“Running?”
“I figured that was before jumping. Right?”
“You’ve been walking for two weeks.”
He nods. “Exactly.”
“What happened to your arm?”
He twists, glancing at the cut that peeks out below his sleeve. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you drunk?”
His brow furrows, and his lips curl with offense. “What?”
“High?”
“No. I just want to get things moving. I’m done with sitting on the sidelines. I—”
I grab his arm and pull him past the front desk. “Chris, will you have Gretchen help get Luciana to her station? I’ll be right back,” I tell him as I move so I’m pushing Arlo instead of pulling, directing him into the back, past the stations and weight equipment, and to the small break room that mostly serves as Whitney’s office.
I grab the medical kit and drop it to the folding table with a thunk.
I swallow as I open it, pulling out some alcohol swabs, bandages, and a packet of ointment before chancing a look at the cut again. It’s not very deep or long, and the blood is completely dried, which, for whatever reason, makes it marginally easier for me to be around.
Marginally.
I move to the sink and grab several paper towels that I dampen, and without a word, I hand them to him so he can clean it up. He takes them wordlessly, steps over to where the garbage can is, and twists his extended arm so he can see to wipe the blood off.
“What happened?”
He shakes his head again. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t even hurt.” He throws the used paper towels into the trash. “It doesn’t need a Band-Aid.”
“You should put something on it until it scabs. You don’t want to lie on these tables with an open cut.”
“It’s a scratch.”
“It’s still open.”
He holds out his hand, annoyance visible with his clenched jaw. I slap two of the bandages in his palm, my anger rising to meet his. “You seem as bitter as a stale beer that’s gone to waste to a fly.”
His stormy eyes peek up at me through his dark, sooty lashes, and slowly, a smile starts to form on his lips. He’s beautiful