If I Fix You

Not that I was bitter.

And I was used to noticing girls noticing Sean, both before and after I stopped loving him. Sometimes he noticed them back, which unfairly sucked just as much now as it had before.

With her soft brown hair and matching skin, and the dimple that was nearly as legendary as Sean’s, Cami got a lot of notice. I almost felt like I needed to duck when I got caught in the cross fire of their combined dimples. I gave the edge to Sean though. I still had a hard time not getting a little dizzy when he smiled at me, and I’d had years of practice. Cami had only recently moved to Mesa and was therefore totally defenseless.

“Cami G,” he called when she reached us.

“Sean A.” She let the sounds run together so it sounded like Seany.

My stomach prepared to sour at the hug I knew he was about to give her, but he surprised me by high-fiving her instead. Cami didn’t register the omission like I did; she beamed at Sean, then wisely broke eye contact before she did something stupid like fling herself at him. Smart girl. She turned to include me in the conversation.

“So how’s cross-country? Did Claire convince you guys to go out for the team yet?”

Sean launched into the many reasons why hell would be hosting the Winter Olympics before that happened. Cami hung on every word, laughing. She had a great laugh.

I looked back and forth between them, noticing the way she touched his arm, and the way he fed off her laughter. It wasn’t nearly as hard to watch as it used to be. Good on me.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just quit then?” she asked.

Sean’s gaze slid to me, but I didn’t meet it. He never explicitly said it, but I knew why he worked an eight-hour night shift and then ran five miles with Claire hounding his every step. On bad days, I told myself it was penance.

“Because then he wouldn’t have anything to complain about,” I said. “Plus he gets to verbally torture Claire every morning and she has to take it.”

“Poor Claire,” Cami said.

I felt Sean’s gaze linger on me a second before renewing the role of Claire’s long-suffering friend. He waved a hand in front of Cami’s face. “Poor Claire? Did you just say poor Claire? Try running with us sometime and see how sorry you feel for her.”

Cami’s eyes lit up. “I would if I didn’t need to practice.” She hoisted her duffel bag higher and pushed her still-damp hair over one shoulder. “You could maybe try swimming with me.” She flushed and rushed on before Sean could answer. “Speaking of, I have this awesome pool at my house. You guys should come over sometime.” She looked at me. “Claire too.”

I nodded, knowing Claire and I were an afterthought, a genuine one, but an afterthought all the same. She wanted Sean, and from where she was standing, I couldn’t blame her. I also couldn’t watch their love connection unfold two feet from my face. I’d rather brave the car alone with Sean.

I moved to the Jetta’s passenger door. “Guys, I need to get going. My dad keeps threatening to fire me if I’m late again.”

With effort, Cami pulled her gaze away from Sean. “Do you need a ride? I’m going past your shop so it’s no prob—”

“No way.” Sean cut her off a second before the opposite response rushed to my mouth. “I’m not loading that—” he tapped a knuckle on the back window toward my bike “—into another car.”

Cami shifted her feet. “Oh, sure. I’ll catch you later.” She took a few steps backward and the distance between herself and Sean did wonders for her confidence. She pointed at both of us. “I’m serious about coming over. I’ll text you guys next weekend, okay?”

We said goodbye and I opened the passenger door, watching Cami walk away and hating that I checked to see if Sean was watching too. He wasn’t. “Did she convince you to go out for swim team?”

Sean shrugged. “I’m not looking for a new sport.”

I gave him a look. “You know that’s not why she asked you.”

“Well, I’m not looking for that either.”

Once upon a time I’d have lived off a comment like that for weeks, trying to read more into it than was there. I didn’t do that this time. There was no point.

Inside the car, Sean reached across me to grab his sunglasses from the glove compartment. I inhaled before I could stop myself, and let my gaze stray to the stubble lining his jaw. It’d be rough and scratchy if I touched it. I curled my hands into fists and gazed out the window. He was saying something, and I felt his words drift over me like he was running the back of his fingers along my arm.

And then he was running the back of his fingers along my arm.

I jerked away. “What?”

“I said you can pick the music.”

I hit the first preset and didn’t change it when a commercial for life insurance came on. While he drove, I focused on the view out the window like it was my job to catch every detail. I berated myself for caring if Cami’s crush on Sean went both ways, for reacting in the wrong way to his closeness, for wanting to bring him nearer instead of pushing him away, for forgetting—however briefly—that we were broken.

I slammed the door a little harder than necessary when I got out at my house.

“Watch it!” Sean killed the engine and followed me.

“The door’s fine. Besides, I’d just fix it if it wasn’t.” I didn’t add that it was just a Jetta, but I thought it.

“The thought of you in coveralls does good things for me, but that’s not the point. And, hey.” He darted in front of me when I turned to get my bike. “What did I miss? We were okay like two minutes ago.”

No we weren’t, but I didn’t say that. Every day was a struggle not to swing wildly from one emotion to the other, a pendulum that he controlled whether he knew it or not. I couldn’t slip back into the way we used to be as effortlessly as he could. It was like trying to put on an old coat that no longer fit. I felt sweaty and constricted whenever I tried. And then I’d get angry, because he didn’t seem to have the same problem.

“I’m just exhausted from not sleeping great and all the running. Sorry for slamming the door. I’ll be nicer to the Jetta, promise.” I petted his car.

Sean exhaled, and it ended in a laugh. “That’s funny, you talking to me about being tired. Check out my eyes.” He caught my hand and tugged me close—real close—and it was all I could do not to step back. “I look like the biggest pothead on the planet. I’m pretty sure my mom is secretly drug testing me even though she knows I work nights.”

I should have been able to dismiss a casual touch from Sean as easily as he did from me. Not that I was able to casually touch him yet, but that was the goal.

The casual part, not the touching.

I freed my hand without effort. “They are pretty red.” But still that same achingly perfect blue.

Through the windows of the garage, Sean noticed my dad’s truck was gone. “I thought you were kidding about your dad firing you for being late.” Sean gestured with his chin toward the garage. “That a bad sign?”

“No, I woke him up climbing through my window this morning, so he was going to go in early. It’s cool, I’ll just ride my bike.”

“I didn’t know you were still doing the roof thing.”

I saw my own discomfort mirrored in his eyes and realized his comment had reminded us both that we hadn’t talked much in months, and never about anything of consequence.

“I don’t mind dropping you off at the shop,” Sean added.

“You’re forgetting I just saw up close how exhausted you are.” I tried for a smile. “Really, it’s fine. I need to take a shower and everything. Go home. Get some sleep.”

Staring straight ahead, Sean said, “You hate that bike.”

So I did, vehemently. And he knew I was choosing it over him.

He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Claire makes it better, doesn’t she?”

My smile came easier that time. It wasn’t wide, but it was honest. “Yeah.”