Blind Kiss

  “So what’s new?” I asked.

  “Nothing much. I just found out that I’m three units short of having an English degree, too.”

  “So you’re getting your engineering degree and then you’ll take one class over the summer and get an English degree as well?”

  “Yup.” He took a bite of his burger and talked through a mouth full of food. “Crazy, huh?”

  “Wow, Gavin, that’s so impressive. I had no idea.”

  “Me neither. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it. Maybe go track down Carissa and write a book with her, or do some stupid performance art in Denver.”

  “What about Lottie?”

  “What about her?” he said nonchalantly.

  “Well, you got a fucking ‘L’ tattooed on your chest.”

  It wasn’t always easy to pry things out of Gavin; sometimes he would catch me completely off guard with a gut-spilling confession. Other times he would be totally enigmatic and evasive. “I like her. A lot. She likes to fight, though.” He drank the rest of his beer and smiled serenely. He was staring into my eyes. I was chewing my burger slowly, wondering what he was thinking. “Not like you, Little P. You’re a lover.”

  I swallowed hard.

  He looked down at his lap to check his phone. “Speak of the devil. Lottie’s off work. I should probably get home and take a shower. I’m meeting her later.”

  “Where does she work?” We rarely talked about Lottie if we could help it. I never even asked him how she felt about our friendship.

  “Jamba Juice.” He laughed.

  “Why’s that funny?”

  “I don’t know. I’m convinced all the blender noise makes her a little agro.”

  “That’s a stupid theory.” We paid the check. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your car,” I said.

  He grabbed my hands from across the table. “P, don’t fall apart over this, okay?”

  Like a little girl? I thought. “I’m not going to. You sure think a lot of yourself.”

  “I just mean don’t read into this too much.” He pointed to the tattoo bandage.

  I breezed past his comment. “Are you coming to my finals performance in three weeks? I think my parents and Keeks are actually gonna be there.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  We were staring into each other’s eyes. I thought about our blind kiss and how his lips felt on mine. I sighed. “You can bring Lottie if you want. We should all be friends, you know? So you and I can see each other more outside of our one-off study sessions.”

  “I agree, but I think she’s jealous of you.”

  “Why?”

  “I love you for not knowing why.” Did he just say I love you? It wasn’t quite the real thing but it was something.

  Several moments of silence passed between us. He was the only person I could unselfconsciously look at in silence for that length of time.

  “I love you, Gavin.”

  His mouth dropped open like he was going to say something, and then he shut it. My eyes filled with tears.

  We were still clutching hands over the table, staring. “I love you too, Penny.” He smiled, a small, tight, humble, and loving smile. An expression I’ll never forget.

  “All right, let’s go, dork.” I pulled him out of the booth while simultaneously wiping tears from my eyes.

  THREE WEEKS CAME and went, just like the snow had come and gone. It was the end of college for me. I had passed my written finals and only had my dance recital left, which would officially allow me to get my degree. Everything was looking up, and the future seemed promising. Ling was going to med school in California in the fall, but we still had the summer in Fort Collins. Gavin was going to take one more class over the summer for his English degree and then he would be on the job hunt, like me.

  I saw him a lot in those three weeks; I actually spent a few nights out with him, Ling, and Lottie, like we were on a freaking double date. Lottie was pretty dull, in my opinion, but then again, maybe I was just jealous.

  On the night of my performance, I saw Joey outside the auditorium arguing with Doug. “What’s going on?”

  Joey turned to me, fuming. “I failed the fucking written.”

  “What?”

  “Calm down,” Doug said. “I’m going to let him retake it.”

  “He’s the best dancer in this program,” I argued, though it wasn’t totally true.

  Joey was just shaking his head.

  “Come on, let’s go warm up,” I said to him.

  He followed me to the backstage door. I stopped on the sidewalk when I saw my family walking up. Kiki had the biggest grin on her face. I think she was relieved not to be the center of attention, for once.

  “I’ll be there in a minute, Joey. Don’t sweat it, man. We’ll show him onstage.”

  He didn’t respond. Instead he shot me a pouty look. I hugged my dad, who was practically jumping out of his shoes. “Hey guys!” I patted Kiki’s head. “You should be able to get great seats. You’re pretty early.”

  “Your dad insisted on getting here an hour early, even though Kiki had to miss a piano lesson,” my mom said.

  Jesus. Can’t I have just one night?

  “I’m just excited to see my girl dance,” my dad chimed in, breaking the awkward moment. “Your mother is, too.”

  “Awh, thanks, Dad.” I gave him another hug and then hugged my mom awkwardly and thanked her for coming. I was still annoyed by her comment but she was here. That was all that mattered.

  I saw Ling and Lance walking up to the auditorium. Lance gave me a squeeze and then immediately went up to my dad and started talking shop with him as they walked inside. Ling and I remained on the sidewalk outside the auditorium.

  “I didn’t know you were coming with Lance. Are you guys . . . together?”

  She scoffed. “Are you kidding? He’s obsessed with you. We drove here together and he wouldn’t stop talking about you the entire way over.”

  “Wait. No. Really?”

  She rolled her eyes. “How have you not noticed? By the way, I saw Gavin and Lottie in the parking lot. They’re on their way in. It looked like they were fighting or something, though.”

  “I think they’re always fighting.”

  “Gavin’s not exactly easy to get along with.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. He’s dramatic and all over the place.”

  “Yeah, but I like that about him.” I checked the time. “Sorry, I gotta get in there and warm up.”

  “Aight, break a leg, sister.” We fist-bumped. I smiled as she walked away and I headed to the backstage area to warm up. All of my favorite people were there, and they were about to see me do my favorite thing in the world.

  Everything up to the performance was a blur. I was so nervous but before I knew it, Joey and I were next to go on. I peeked from behind the curtain and saw my family, Lance, and Ling in the front row. I searched for Gavin and noticed him and Lottie in the back row, standing in the aisle. They were whispering animatedly and waving their hands around angrily. Suddenly, she stormed out the back auditorium door and he spun around toward the stage, shaking his head as if to send me some subliminal apology. He turned and took off after Lottie, letting the heavy door slam as he left. Luckily, the dancers on stage weren’t fazed by it.

  But I was.

  He was gone.

  “Ready?” Joey asked, taking my hand. He seemed to have calmed down.

  “Yeah,” I squeaked.

  Gavin was gone.

  I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Isn’t that what he had said?

  17. Five Months Ago

  PENNY

  Frank got much worse very quickly. One night, Gavin called me to tell me Frank had been unconscious for twelve hours.

  I felt helpless as I rocked Gavin on his dad’s couch. He sobbed into my shirt. It was three a.m. and he was totally exhausted. “He doesn’t feel any pain,” I whispered.

&nbs
p; Gavin couldn’t even speak. He was in my arms, letting loose guttural noises from his chest, like he was trying to push out all the feelings from his body. I always thought about how hard it would be to watch your spouse lose a parent, but Gavin wasn’t my husband. I would eventually have to leave him there . . . all alone, in that house, neither one of us knowing when Frank would take his last breath.

  There was a hospice worker and a nurse who were constantly in and out, but it didn’t matter. Those people didn’t exist. It was just Frank and Gavin and me, and the little bit of comfort I could give to both of them.

  “I just want him to go,” he said before breaking down again.

  “Go to him and tell him it’s okay.”

  Gavin stood on wobbly legs, his hands shaking. I wrapped my arm around his waist and walked side by side with him to his father’s hospital bed.

  Gavin knelt, taking his father’s hand in his. He laid his head on Frank’s chest. “Dad.” He could barely get the words out. “I wish I was around for you more. I wish I was a better son. I wish I went to the Rockies games with you.” Each word seemed more painful than the last.

  “Shhh, Gavin, you were a good son,” I told him as I rubbed his back.

  “I love you, Dad. I’ll be all right. You can let go and be at peace.”

  I leaned over and kissed Frank’s cheek. “I love you, too, Frank,” I said, and then I was crying as hard as Gavin. “You were like another father to me. Thank you.”

  Gavin and I both cried for what felt like forever. We held each other and then collapsed onto the couch near Frank’s bed. At four thirty a.m., I got a text from my husband asking if I would be able to take Milo to school. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to ask. Why couldn’t he call in late for work or ask his parents, who lived nearby? I told him no, and that I would call my mom and have her come and get Milo. My mother agreed without complaint. She still had a soft spot for Gavin.

  At six thirty-three a.m., the nurse shook us awake. Frank Berninger had just taken his last breath. Almost immediately, I could see relief wash over Gavin’s face.

  “He’s gone,” he said.

  “Yes,” I said. It was the only response I could muster.

  The hospice workers prepared for the removal of the body while Gavin and I sat around in an exhausted daze the whole morning. Around noon, they took Frank’s body away. My mother showed up a couple of hours later with a bag of groceries.

  She didn’t say much; she just hugged us both, went into Gavin’s kitchen, did the dishes, and started warming up homemade chicken soup on the stove. She brought us each a bowl on the couch.

  Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, my mother said, “I’ll get Milo from school and take him home. You both look like you need some rest.”

  I never really talked to my mother about my relationship with Gavin. She had grown to accept the fact that he would be in my life, and that he and I could be close without having a sexual relationship. One time she accused me of having an emotional affair with him, but I had shut her down by saying, “Leave it alone. You don’t understand. No one understands.” She never uttered a word about it after that. She loved him, too, and I didn’t think she could imagine our lives without Gavin.

  After she left, Gavin set the soup on the table. “I can’t eat, P.”

  “I know.” I set my bowl down, too. He kicked his shoes off. We lay down. I let him cry into my chest until, eventually, we both fell asleep, wrapped up in each other, the way we had always been.

  18. Fourteen Years Ago

  PENNY

  The auditorium was full, our music was playing, and Joey was dancing well. But inside, I was a wreck. I had to get my mind off of Gavin. On the first Cheshire Cat lift, Joey dug his nails into my thigh, making my leg tremble as he held me. “Get it together,” I seethed behind my big, bright smile. He maintained his own smiling mask as he held me up.

  At one point, as I was facing the audience, I caught a glimpse of my father and Kiki smiling widely, their faces full of pride. It gave me a surge of confidence to know that my family was rooting for me, even if Gavin wasn’t there.

  A moment later, I was about to perform the grand jeté. I distinctly remember being in the air and feeling my back leg touch my head. I was in slow motion. I’d never gotten that kind of extension. I remember smiling, knowing that I was executing the move flawlessly. I was in the air with my arms outstretched and my head back when I felt Joey grab my front ankle. Then everything went black.

  A few seconds later, I could feel myself on the ground writhing in pain. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to both my knee and my head. I didn’t know exactly what had happened—all I could see was Joey standing over me, looking penitent. The music was still playing but I could hear the audience murmuring and stirring.

  “Cut the music!” I heard Doug yell.

  The music went out. A moment later, my father was at my side, on his knees, my mother hovering over him in shock. Doug came to my other side. “Don’t move,” he said.

  “What happened?” I said in a weak voice.

  Doug pointed at Joey and yelled, “Get the hell out of here!”

  I looked up and saw Lance, Ling, and Kiki standing quietly behind my mother. Their eyes were wide, their expressions pained. “Where’s Gavin?” I asked.

  “You hit your head, Sweet Pea,” my father told me.

  “Where’s Gavin?” I repeated.

  “He’s not here,” Ling choked out. I didn’t understand.

  “What happened, Doug?” I asked.

  “You’ve been hurt, Penny. An ambulance is coming. Don’t move.” He stared into my eyes, looking sorry and sad.

  “How?” was all I could say. I was moving in and out of consciousness. My knee was throbbing.

  “Please just stay still,” Doug said.

  I looked at my dad. “My knee. It’s bad.”

  “We don’t know that yet,” he said.

  But I knew.

  My dad rode in the ambulance with me. Once we arrived at the hospital, they couldn’t give me pain medication until they were able to do a CAT scan to make sure my head was okay. Once that was out of the way, they gave me morphine and did an MRI on my knee. Lance stayed at the hospital with my dad all night. My mom took Kiki home and Ling left for an early-morning flight to her parents’ house in California. She had finished finals early as well and wanted to take advantage of the downtime before graduation. She asked me if I wanted her to cancel, but I just shook my head. What could anyone really do?

  I tried to call Gavin, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Throughout the night, I went in and out of sleep. Lance stayed, refilled my water cup every hour, and tried to comfort me as my dad slept in the waiting room.

  “You don’t have to stay,” I told him.

  “I want to,” he said.

  IN THE MORNING, the orthopedic surgeon came in. He was thin and absurdly tall, at least six foot six, but his face was kind as he hovered over my hospital bed. Lance was slouching in a chair across from me, and my dad was standing next to my bed as I lay there helpless, my strong body just a broken pile of bones.

  “Hello, Penny. How are you feeling this morning?”

  “I’m in a lot of pain.”

  He nodded. “We’ll get you something for that right away.” He walked out and talked to a nurse, then returned a moment later. “Let’s look at your MRI and X-ray results.” He put scans up on a light board and then turned to me. “You had a mild concussion, but otherwise you’re fine—”

  “What about my knee?”

  “I’m getting to that.”

  “Cut to the chase, doc,” I said. A moment later a nurse was pushing morphine through my IV. I felt my chest tighten up and the wooziness of the drug settle in.

  “You have some torn cartilage—”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad, Penny!” Lance chimed in excitedly.

  “Let me finish,” the doctor said. “There’s a piece of cartilage between your femur and ti
bia that gives your knee stability.”

  “The meniscus,” I mumbled, thinking about Doug.

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “There’s a significant tear in your meniscus, as well as a tear in your ACL.”

  “You can repair them both with surgery, though, right?” my father asked.

  “Both tears are very severe, I’m afraid. We’ll do the best we can. We have a great team here, but there are no guarantees that your knee will fully recover. It’ll take time.”

  “Will I be able to dance again?” I could hear myself talking but I was starting to fade from the morphine.

  “All I can say is that you’ll need surgery and several months of physical therapy before you’ll be able to walk properly. Every patient recovers differently, and I’ve seen star athletes make remarkable recoveries. But that’s the exception, not the rule. Recovering from two severe injuries at the same time . . . perhaps it’s best to adjust your expectations now.”

  My eyes were starting to close. I’ll never dance again, I’ll never dance again, I’ll never dance again.

  Lance stood up, smoothing the hair out of my face and holding my hand.

  The doctor was looking at me strangely. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Can I have morphine?”

  “The nurse just administered a dose. You should close your eyes and get some rest. We need the swelling to go down around your knee before we can get to work.”

  I looked at my father. His eyes were watering. The room started to go dark. The doctor was still talking, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Lance was asking him questions. I didn’t even know why Lance was still here.

  “Dad?” I mumbled. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

  “What is it, Sweet Pea?”

  “Where’s Gavin?”

  He shook his head. “Get some sleep, baby girl.”

  AFTER A SOLID day in the hospital, my phone went dead. I hadn’t heard from Gavin. If he needed to find me, it wouldn’t be that hard—after all, my parents’ phone number was tattooed on his hand.

  Three days passed. The swelling went down in my knee and I was scheduled for surgery. My dad seemed to be taking my injury worse than me, though I was looped up on so many drugs I don’t think I really knew what was going on. My mom and Kiki were there a lot, Ling seemed to call every hour on the hour, and I literally couldn’t get rid of Lance.