flightless ━ kevin day

III. Back On Track

three                               back on track

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Mornings at Abby's house were a different kind of sport — one that involved lots of elbows to ribs, threats, lines to the bathroom, and a race to drink the coffee before it went cold. Ali had been lucky to find an excuse to escape it, at least for one day. The sun hadn't yet climbed over the horizon when Ali got Andrew to drive her to Columbia, the early dawn light casting elongated shadows on the empty streets.

Last night, just before she went to bed, Ali had gotten a phone call — the one she had been dreading ever since she left the hospital at Daytona. It was Jack Fisher, her childhood coach. The conversation had been quick, after all it was late, but he had just wanted to remind her, in that pointed but affectionate way he always spoke to her, that Ali had promised to spend some time with him and Sarah during the Summer, since neither of them got to see much of her after she started at PSU.

And Ali would have loved to spend more time with them — she always did — but not so soon after her accident.

The Fisher's kitchen smelled of fresh coffee and maple syrup, the aroma almost comforting if not for the tension that thickened the air. Ali sat at the table, drizzling honey over her chocolate chip pancakes, though her appetite had fled under the scrutiny of Jack and Sarah's gazes. Sarah's stares were always loaded — a combination of disappointment, resignation, and exasperation, and it pierced through Ali like a needle.

"You haven't been sleeping," Sarah said, reaching to inspect Ali's face, but she turned away from her. Sarah's fingers brushed against Ali's cheek and she sighed, losing patience with Ali's stubbornness.

"It's kind of hard to sleep when I have to share the living room floor with my cousins and Kevin," Ali replied, though she did not try to conceal the fact that she was lying.

"Why don't you stay here for the summer?" Jack offered, filling a mug with coffee for Ali to drink.

Ali couldn't even pretend to consider it. It wouldn't have been honest with Jack, and Ali could never lie to him. He had never hidden the fact that he thought of her as a daughter. Jack and Sarah had two sons, both in college out of state, and neither of them had ever been interested in cheerleading. He often told Ali about how she was special to him, and he made a point to not let people ostracize her after what had happened with her mother — at least not when he was around.

With Sarah, though, it was a different story.

Ali's relationship with Sarah was complicated. It was a maze of unspoken words and withheld affections, a delicate dance of yearning and restraint. From the moment Ali had stepped into Sarah's gym, she had been chasing the elusive ghost of approval that Sarah seemed to offer sparingly, like sunlight through thick clouds. Every nod, every rare smile from Sarah was a prize Ali cherished more than any trophy, yet they were few and far between, leaving Ali perpetually striving for more. Sarah's eyes, often filled with a mixture of exasperation and concern, betrayed a deeper care that she seemed reluctant to fully express. It was as if Sarah feared that too much kindness would unravel the discipline she had so meticulously tried to instill in Ali.

Despite the distance Sarah maintained, Ali could sense the undercurrent of genuine care that ran through their interactions. Sarah's critiques, though sharp, were laced with a concern that belied her stern demeanor. It was this paradox that kept Ali tethered, forever caught between admiration and frustration. She wondered why Sarah kept her at arm's length, why she never fully crossed the line into open affection. Perhaps it was a protective mechanism, a way to shield both of them from the vulnerabilities that came with closeness. Or maybe, Ali thought on her darker days, it was because Sarah saw too much of herself in her – the same relentless drive, the same fear of failure. And so, their relationship remained a complex tapestry of unsaid emotions, each thread woven with equal parts hope and restraint.