Growing Pains

Chapter 17 - Abel, Present Day

In front of his bathroom mirror, Abel ran his fingers through his hair, still slightly damp from his shower. He stared into his own light brown eyes, almost glaring. "Don't screw this up," he muttered.

He still couldn't believe he would be having dinner with Evie that night. He breathed out nervously before shrugging on his jacket. He picked up his keys and drove to Evie's campus.

When he waited outside Evie's dorm, a few students eyed him suspiciously. A boy carrying his laptop in one hand and an apple in the other stopped in front of him. "Are you looking for someone?" He asked, giving Abel a once over.

"Yeah. Evie Song," Abel replied, glancing at his phone. He'd texted her as he arrived.

"Evie? How do you know Evie?"

"Uh, we're old friends," Abel said.

"Alright, I'll head up and let her know," the boy said, before disappearing into the building.

Several minutes later, Evie walked out, giving him a wave. "Sorry," she said with a wry smile, I didn't check my phone. But Miles let me know you were outside. His room is right across from mine."

"No problem. Ready to go?"

They walked side by side towards the city, her campus only a 10 minute walk from the city centre. Feeling nervous, Abel found himself glancing at Evie, taking her in. In the orange glow of the sunset she appeared luminous, her hair and eyes lit by warm amber.  

Their conversation stayed light, too polite. Through their dinner (steaming bowls of ramen from one of Evie's favourite restaurants) and dessert (honeycomb and chocolate ice cream at a gelato parlour), they seemed to hover over the surface, staying clear of their past, talking only about the things that they had done since they had parted ways. 

Abel found himself talking about his college experience interstate, how he fell into physiotherapy. He briefly mentioned his mother before steering the conversation away to what he hoped to do in the future. 

"I hope to open my own clinic one day," he said, as he pushed open the glass door of a small cafe, letting Evie in and leading her towards a free table in the corner. Without thinking, he ordered an almond milk latte for Evie and a cappuccino for himself. It was only after the waitress had turned away that he realised what he had done. Evie looked up at him with an unreadable expression. 

"You remembered," she said, voice quiet. 

Abel didn't know how to reply. Eventually, Evie broke eye contact, looking back down at her menu, as if looking for something to order. 

"So why do you want to open your own clinic?" She asked. 

"I want to dedicate my practice for young athletes," he said. Evie looked up, eyes shining. She didn't comment, though she looked as though she had a million things to say. 

"Why did you leave?" She asked finally. She didn't meet his eyes and looked relieved when the waitress came back with their drinks. Evie curled her fingers around her mug, taking in a deep breath of the delicious smelling coffee. They each took a long sip before Abel put down his mug and cleared his throat. 

"After mum died, I had to get out of here," he said. He wanted her to understand. He wanted her to know that it wasn't because of her, or Tommy. He had to get out. He couldn't take living in that small townhouse after his mother had died, couldn't even bear to go to the local stores. 

Evie's hand slipped over his. 

"I'm sorry. I wish we'd been there," she said. The unspoken words hung between them. I wish we'd been there with you. I wish you would have let us.

"I know," Abel replied, slipping his fingers between hers. 

"And...do you still play?" She asked. 

A genuine smile spread over his lips. "I do. But it's purely for enjoyment now. I couldn't stay off the court for long," he admitted. 

Evie smiled, her fingers tightening against his. "I'd love to watch you play sometime," she said. 

"Tommy still plays, you know," she continued. 

Abel felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something like nostalgia, something like contentment. 

"Bet I'd still beat him," he joked, which made Evie laugh out loud in delight and surprise. She was halfway between disbelief and fighting back joyful tears. Was he truly back? Were they really sitting together, talking? Could they all be together again? 

They found themselves talking long into the night, long after their cups were empty. They laughed about the first time they had met, in that primary school parking lot, the time they got into trouble and landed in the principal's office. They never quite made it to the year everything changed, but it was a start. Abel could feel their friendship repairing slowly, like a fracture fusing back together. The fracture ran deep, but somehow their memories ran deeper, and the bond they shared deeper still.