wanted to stay away from you. There wasn’t anything to be gained by throwing it in your face.”
He moved his hand to cover my fingers where they lay on his arm. “I know we’re not friends, Zel. But I have to ask this anyway. Can you ever forgive me? Will this always be between us?”
I hesitated, sensing this question was more important than a simple yes could answer. “I think I forgave you a long time ago, Eli. Before I even came to Birch. I think the older I got, the more I realized that you’d been immature and thoughtless, not intentionally cruel. And it’s not between us. You’ve changed since that night, and I don’t mean just your injury. You’ve grown up, and you’ve stopped being such a dick.” I poked him in the ribs to lighten my last word. “I’m not the same person, either. The Eli and Zelda who had sex four years ago aren’t who we are now.” I took a deep breath. “This Eli and Zelda . . . I think they’re friends, even though Zelda tried really hard to avoid that. But it turns out that this Eli is just as persuasive now as he used to be. He’s just . . .” I grinned. “Purer in his goals.”
The lines of tension on Eli’s face smoothed. “You’re not saying this just because I’m now the guy in the wheelchair, are you? This isn’t pity forgiveness, is it?”
“Hell, no.” I scowled at him. “I’m a hard-ass, Tucker. It would take more than breaking your back and ending up on wheels to make me feel sorry for you. I’m saying it because you really have changed. I like the new Eli Tucker. He’s sort of cool.”
His eyes softened. “This new Eli Tucker likes Zelda Porter, too. Actually, now that I remember more, I think even the old Eli liked what he knew of the old Zelda. He was just too stupid to get to know her more.” He paused for a beat. “Are we seriously friends now?”
I heaved a sigh and rolled my eyes, scooting off the bed to get away from him. Sitting too close to Eli for too long wasn’t going to be good for either of us.
“Yes, we’re friends, but if you make a big fucking deal about it, I’m going to be your ex-friend. Now, can we get back to Shakespeare, or do you need to boohoo a little more?” I gave a little shake. “All this touchy-feeling shit gives me the jitters.”
“All right, all right.” He smiled. “Tell me something, though. As a friend . . .” He arched his eyebrows, emphasizing the word. “Can I ask if you’d like to talk about why you’re thinking of avoiding your mother this weekend?”
“You can ask.” I walked back to the desk, keeping my back to Eli. “I don’t want to talk about it, though. There’s nothing deep here. It’s basically cowardice. Being around Lottie now makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like being uncomfortable, so I might wait until I know she’s back at the facility.”
“Why? Is she abusive? Does she treat you badly?” I could hear the tentative curiosity in his tone.
“No, not abusive. But the older I’ve gotten, the harder it’s been for Lottie to relate to me. Part of her is aware that I’m her child. But her doctors believe that that part might associate me with a violent incident. It’s entirely possible that I was conceived in a rape.” I tried to keep my voice matter-of-fact. “So it’s easier for her to deny that I’m that baby. However, then she can’t place me. I’m the piece that doesn’t fit. It can make her even more volatile.”
“Can your grandparents handle her if you’re not there, though?”
“My uncles and aunts are going to be there, just in case. That’s the only way she can come home now. They’ll stay the weekend, whether or not I go home.” I picked up my pen. “On this consent essay, are you planning to focus on Hippolyta and Theseus, or Helena and Demetrius?”
“Zel, you know, it’s okay for you to stay away to protect yourself.” Eli spoke softly. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
I gave a short laugh, pressing my lips together. “Thanks, friend. I appreciate that. And I’ll do my best.” I sniffed a little, trying not to cry, trying to find my center again. “But I don’t want to talk about it. Thanks for understanding that.”
“Sure, Zel. That’s what friends are for.”
Chapter Eight
Tuck
“Hey, Tuck.” The