《Kissing Is the Easy Part》Chapter 22 The knee injury

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"I'm sorry I ruined your day," Leslie said.

"No, it's my fault. It was a bad idea to go to the beach." I honestly thought it'd be a pressure-free way to hang out with everyone, but I underestimated how sensitive she was to sunlight.

"I didn't want to spoil it for you," she said in a small voice.

"You didn't." I smiled to assure her as I opened the car door. She slid in the passenger seat, light as a cat, and I made my way around to the other side. I was about to start the car when I noticed that the sun wasn't the only thing that was bothering her. Leslie stared at her lap like it was one of the geometry problems we went through.

My fingers left the car keys. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yes."

With Leslie, it was always better to double check. She wasn't like Flora who'd start recapping every emotion she went through the minute she saw me.

"Were you uncomfortable around my friends?"

A second of silence, then a nod.

"Why? Did they say something rude to you?"

"Well, not aloud." Her expression was hurt. "But I know they all secretly judge me and compare me with Flora."

I was speechless. I couldn't blame her for feeling that way because I knew I did it too. Constantly. Subconsciously. I just did five seconds ago.

"Nobody does that," I said.

Leslie sighed. "Whenever Flora is in the group, I feel really threatened. She's so confident and...talkative."

"But Flora is friendly to you." Which I secretly admired her for it. If she had brought a boyfriend, I knew I wouldn't be half as gracious and mature as she was. Flora didn't have a jealous bone in her body.

"It's just an act. She's so fake. It's clear she still has a thing for you."

"Oh no she doesn't. You saw how she flirted with the surf team."

"That's just one more thing. Your friends are so boy crazy! They rated those surfer guys on their abs before they even talked to them."

I didn't tell Leslie how Dylan, Jake and I gave girls scores too, and it's how willing we were to sleep with them on a scale from one to ten. Jake gave everyone a ten.

"It's all harmless fun," I said. "They don't know these guys, so of course they're only going to judge them on appearances."

"Yes, but why judge at all? Why do they have to be so shallow and put so much emphasis on looks? They don't have much substance."

I thought Leslie was taking all this a bit too seriously. "Come on, they're not that bad. They want to chill out and have a good time at the beach, that's all."

"They live in a deranged world where Crocs are unacceptable and Carmen Belles is considered fat. Can you believe that?"

"I'm sure it's just talk." In a way, it was cute how she stressed over such things, but at the same time I thought Leslie was just as judgmental if not more.

"They make me feel so self-conscious," she complained. "And I'm not athletic, which makes it even worse."

"You don't have to be a volleyball player on top of being an amazing violinist, right? You're great at what you do and that's cool enough."

Leslie shook her head. "No, they think it's cooler that Janet has a band. They don't know who Paganini is and they're Twilight fans."

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"Well, I'm with you on that." I smiled, wanting this to be over. "I hate Twilight too. These vampires are immortal but all they want to do with their time is hit on high school girls."

Leslie laughed courteously, but she wasn't done. "Jake is sex-crazed and Dylan swears non-stop. And the eyebrow piercing." She tutted. "How can you be friends with them?"

"I like them," I said, pushing back a flicker of annoyance. "They're very open with their 'I hate this', 'I want that'. I actually admire that kind of honesty. I always try to be polite and say the right things."

"Yes, because you're more mature than they are. Only children blurt out what they're thinking."

"That's what makes children so much more likable than adults," I said, more impatiently than I intended to. To be honest I didn't even like children, but I liked it even less that Leslie was criticizing my friends.

Her eyes widened at my tone. It took her a few seconds to study my face before her attitude changed. She gave me a soft sigh and lowered her head. "It's just that I always feel like I don't fit in and I don't deserve to be with you." Her voice dropped. "You're so popular and good-looking, and I need more time to gain my confidence. It's not that easy for me."

I softened instantly. I felt guilty for snapping at her when she just spent an afternoon around people she was uncomfortable with, and socializing wasn't her favorite pastime after all. I pulled her close and told her that she was silly for feeling that way, that there was no such thing as undeserving in a relationship. In order to reassure her, I decided that in the beginning we should spend more time alone to nurture her sense of security.

I knew Leslie could be very opinionated under her sweet appearance. I stopped trying to make her like my friends, and it seemed they didn't think much of her either.

"So, how's it going with her?" Dylan had asked one afternoon. "I'll admit I was a little surprised. When you broke up with Flora I was sure it's because you were going to start dating Angelina Jolie."

"Don't be rude, Dill," Jake interrupted. "Angelina is too old. You mean Scarlett Johansson." They high-fived and laughed.

I knew they were attacking her because they didn't understand her. I found it refreshing to date an earnest, down-to-earth person who was outside of the prom queen nominees, but I didn't expect them to get it. However, the constant need to be isolated like we were two hermits on a mountain top could feel a little extreme. Sometimes when I was with her, it almost felt like there was an invisible wedge between me and my friends.

The good thing was at least I still had basketball practices, and when things with Leslie got a bit too intense, going to practices was like coming up for air. As I got ready to go one day, Leslie practically got down on her knees and begged that I didn't.

She said she had a violin solo coming up and she was really agitated about it, and she needed me to help her choose what she was going to play. I thought it was ridiculous she'd be turning to me for music advice.

"What do I know about violin solos? Let alone help you choose one? You might as well let me do something I'm good at."

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"But you practice three times a week. Surely you can skip just once?"

"I really can't."

Leslie could be very stubborn if she wanted to. She knew exactly how to get to me too. I would just leave if she were to start a fight, but she was soft-spoken and pleading, vulnerable and teary just like always. She could drown me with her damp eyes and for some reason I couldn't say no to her.

I relented before her tears rushed down her cheeks. I was getting late anyway, and since I had never missed a practice in my life, not to mention I always got there the earliest, I thought the coach would cut me some slack.

No such luck. At the next practice he yelled at me like I was an imbecile who couldn't even dribble, and Dylan wouldn't give up the opportunity to tease me about dating the less attractive twin.

I told Leslie afterwards how I couldn't wait to get through it. "Now I know the coach hates anyone who misses practices," I complained even though I knew I deserved it. "I know I sure didn't play as bad as he made it out to be."

Leslie nodded. "I think you should quit the team."

"What?"

"I think if it makes you unhappy you shouldn't do it. I know playing basketball isn't really your dream."

"Well, no, it isn't, but I like it." I was incredibly surprised this conversation was taking place at all. "I like being in this together with my teammates, and I like the big games and celebrating with everyone when it's over."

"Okay..." she said reluctantly. "It's just that it's taking up a lot of your time and it can get very violent."

"Violent? It's not like playing in a concert, but it sure isn't as violent as football," I said, then I smiled. "You don't like it that I play basketball? Most girls would think it's hot." As soon as I said it I knew it was the wrong thing to say to Leslie. Maybe the real reason she didn't want me to play was that it added to her insecurity.

Leslie never disagreed with me outright. We never fought, but it was the words unsaid, her silent disapproval, that always made me more distraught, like on a stuffy day the sweat clogged up the pores and was unable to evaporate.

We dropped the subject after that, since there really wasn't any more to say. I was never going to drop out of the team, and Leslie just wouldn't give me a single line of "as long as it makes you happy" to settle my mood. It almost felt like she took away my friends first and now she wanted to take away basketball too.

***

As it turned out, that conversation was unnecessary after all. A week after Leslie talked to me about quitting the team, I busted my knee following a dismount in layup. A sharp pain shot through my right knee and along with it I heard a snap, and just like that I knew junior year basketball was over for me.

A list of thoughts flashed by, mainly things I knew I couldn't take part in.

For starters, I realized I wouldn't be able to drive. Basketball-wise, we had a big game coming up in two weeks that marked the end of the semester, but the most upsetting thing was that I was so psyched to go on a cycling trip to Germany with Dylan and Jake during summer break.

We were going to stay with Jake's uncle, and take on Europe as the three musketeers, as Dylan put it, and take on European chicks too, as Jake added. The latter was obviously just for the two of them, but as anticipated Leslie wasn't happy with this plan to travel abroad either. The level of doubt I got from her was unbelievable.

Another thought pushed at the back of my mind and it was her. She would not be happy with this. My knee was killing me and all I could think about was how much pressure it was to call her and break this to her.

I remembered as a kid, sometimes in winter when I refused to put on a coat like my mom instructed, I'd always try to hide it if I caught a cold later on. As I lay on the gym floor the same idea surfaced. It wasn't just because she would worry, but because she would make me feel like I did something wrong.

Surely when I got into an accident and thought about my girlfriend, this would be the wrong emotion to have? Shouldn't I feel relieved that I had someone to emotionally lean on, instead of worrying about her being displeased?

Leslie was not one to say I told you so, of course. She was too polite for that. But I didn't feel comforted after talking to her and the silence was too long.

***

Dylan and Jake accompanied me to the hospital. They asked me how I was. By then my knee had swollen up to a considerable size, but the pain wasn't what bothered me. I felt helpless and trapped.

"I'm okay. I just hate the idea of sitting on the bleachers while you guys play against West Brighton."

"Well, if it's any consolation, summer break is about to start and you won't miss much. You picked a really good time to bust your knee," Dylan said.

"Yeah, we only have one big game left, and I think we can still win," Jake said.

"I'm afraid you'll find out you can still win without me."

Dylan gave me a pat on a shoulder. "Don't worry, we already know. We just want you on the team so we can trash talk."

"Take the summer to rest, and we can play together again at the beginning of senior year," Jake said.

"I hope so. I'm really bummed out about the trip to Germany too," I said. I tried not to sound whiny, but my mood was gloomier than the MRI chamber. "Looks like I can't make it. You just have to take my share of European chicks."

"Yes, about that," Jake said with an easy smile. "Don't stress about it. We decided not to go."

"That's right," Dylan seconded. "We reached a unanimous decision just now."

I looked at their faces. They were serious. "Why? Don't cancel because of me."

"We are the three musketeers, right? One for all and all for one," Dylan said. I decided not to comment on the cheesiness of the line. He sounded so sincere. "It's no big deal. We can go next year."

I was really touched but I didn't tell them that. "I guess I owe those European chicks an apology."

"We're going to get them next year, when we're eighteen!" Jake said. "And hopefully you'll be single by then and join in the act."

"And imagine all the booze we can get when we're eighteen. This year I'll just go somewhere domestic with Jake," Dylan said. "Maybe surfing in LA."

"Malibu Barbies sound good too." I grinned. Jake grinned back and told me they would send me pictures to keep me posted, and as he started telling me what I could do with the pictures, I was thinking how glad I was that it was them who were with me.

***

After they left, I lay in the ER staring at the ceiling when the curtain opened. A huge batch of balloons entered my view first, followed by Flora, Janet and Sandra.

"Hi, we want to see how you're doing," Sandra said.

"Speak for yourselves. I just want to see if I can run into some hot doctors," Flora said in a bored tone. "But how are you?"

"The doctor thinks my ACL is torn. He's over fifty and not hot, by the way."

"We don't understand any medical acronyms," Janet said. "The bottom line is you feel okay? Does it hurt a lot?"

"It looks worse than it is."

"We brought you these!" Flora shook the balloons she was holding excitedly in front of my face. "We picked these out for you especially before coming over. Look, Einstein!! We thought it'd be nice to have your dream man leering at you when you sleep tonight."

The balloons had giant Einstein faces on them. I couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks!! That's really nice of you."

"It's not easy finding these, you know," Sandra said. "It's like a thousand Winnie-the-poohs and Spidermen against three Einsteins. We bought all of them."

"It's great to know I've managed to monopolize these," I said. I had a feeling it was Flora's idea, and the realization lit up a sense of nostalgia inside me. She still cared about me, and she was here even though we weren't exactly on friendly terms. I wanted to search for her eyes but she was looking at the curtain.

"So will you still be able to play?" Janet asked.

"Not temporarily, but I can still play next year I hope."

Flora diverted her gaze back to my face. "Good, because without basketball you'd be a lot less desirable." I already knew she was going to say that before she opened her mouth.

"Don't worry, Sean. You're still hot even in the hospital gown," Sandra said.

"Don't lie out of pity, Sandy. No one can look hot in these," Flora scolded. A gleam came to life in her hazel eyes. "Wait, are these the type that opens in the back? In that case would you get up and close the blinds over there for us?"

We all laughed, and Janet said, "Don't harass the patient, Flora."

Flora gave a wave of her hands. "Never mind. It's nothing I haven't seen already."

A cough sounded outside. It was a light cough, but like pressing pause on a stereo, we all fell silent immediately. Leslie poked her head in. I could have sworn the temperature dropped two degrees.

"Hi, Leslie," Flora said after a tense second.

Leslie ignored her and rushed over to my side. "Are you in pain?"

"I'm fine."

"You really shouldn't be getting too excited. You need to rest."

I laughed uneasily. "Come on, Les. It's not like I have an aneurysm. I like having them here."

"Take it easy," Janet said, the sarcasm in her tone pooling all over the floor. "He needs to rest his knee, not his sense of humor."

"Well, it's probably not a good idea to have so many people in the ER," Leslie said, unaffected. "We might get in the way of emergency procedures."

"We're just about to get going." Sandra gave the other girls a nudge. "Get well soon, Sean."

I saw Janet roll her eyes.

Flora remained still and I could see a blast of flame shooting up in her eyes, like she was not satisfied to leave without a fight. "When's your parents' shift, Sean? I guess I'll come when they're here. As I recall they really like me."

Leslie turned to glare at her and Flora crossed her arms. In this awkward instant a thought sprang to life, and everything became clear to me.

I wanted Flora to stay. I wanted Flora to make me laugh. I wanted Flora to be right here with me, and I would rather be one of her ten million worshippers than Leslie's universe.

But I knew what the right thing to do was in a situation like this, and I had no choice. "Thanks for coming," I said to the girls. "I'll be okay."

Flora tilted her face and our eyes locked. I knew it couldn't be more than a second, but when we were staring at each other time stretched into infinity. I couldn't look away. I wished I didn't have to. There was too much to read in her eyes, like stumbling upon a great book at the library that I had to return eventually, but for the time being I wanted to read as much as I could. I picked up a few things; hurt, sadness, pity, and perhaps even longing.

I broke eye contact first.

"Come on," Sandra urged, reaching out to drag Flora away. She gave me one last gaze before leaving with her heels clicking loudly on the floor. Her jasmine perfume strangled me like a silk scarf and then dissipated in the air.

I felt dizzy. I was trapped.

I was trapped with a non-functioning knee and in a relationship where I was still attracted to my ex-girlfriend.

***

"Balloons, really?" Leslie opened her mouth first. "I'm surprised these are even allowed in here."

"Look, it's nice of them to come by. You don't have to drive them away."

"I'm not comfortable with Flora hanging around you. I know she'll flirt with you."

"Flora is completely over me and she's not flirting with me. It's just..." part of her charm. "It's just the way she talks."

"Well, I don't like the way she talks." Leslie poured me a glass of water. She looked at my knee and sighed in dismay. She told me she was sorry for coming off as rude, because she was just too distressed and too worried to exchange pleasantries.

It was impossible to argue with her as she watched over me gravely, as if the doctor had just announced I'd never be able to walk again. I wondered why I didn't feel supported with my girlfriend beside me. The air was bleak, the hospital bed was suddenly uncomfortable, and the air conditioning was on too strong.

Perhaps I was being unfair to her. I was probably acting defensive because she had been right and I was just taking out my anger on her, while she had been nothing but devoted and caring. For the next weeks to come Leslie made it her personal duty to nurse me, carrying my books to classes while I was in crutches, driving me to and from school although I could easily have gotten a ride from my next door neighbor Janet. She claimed it'd pain her immensely if I didn't let her help. The more she did for me the more I resented her, then after that I would be haunted by tremendous guilt and I tried to be nicer to her.

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