The Boy Who Broke My Leg

Chapter 6

After another small argument, I use my crutches to get to the car. "You can't carry me around all the time", I tell Alistair with a small smile when he pouts, carrying a giant Tupperware box and my backpack. When I'm safely inside the car, I unlock my phone to find a jumble of texts. Some from Kayla telling me not to worry cuz she prob flunked her test too, a few worried ones asking why I'm not picking up her calls followed by one saying Alistair told her I was asleep and having dinner and would drop me home. She tells me he picked up my keys. The last says to call her when I get home with any recent developments with a winky face. This makes me roll my eyes. Kayla's mother sounds almost identical to Mrs LeBran about dropping up food and making me enough food to last me 2 months. I feel a pang of pain as I think about my mom again. This broken leg is making me emotional.

The final text, which catches my attention, is my father saying he's caught a flight home and that his flight lands at 9am the next day but he'll go directly to the hospital from the airport to take care of the paperwork. I sigh in relief.

Alistair, seemingly having talked his mother out of something again, climbs in next to me and catches my sigh. "What happened?"

"My dad is coming back tomorrow", I reply and to my surprise, I smile. No matter how much I tell myself I don't care about him being gone all the time and he's an irresponsible father, I can't deny I miss him.

Alistair smiles too. "That's great. At least I think that's enough to keep my mom from asking you to stay over for the night." He backs out of the driveway and starts driving home, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"She wanted to ask me to stay?"

He groans. "Yeah. Listen. I know my mom comes off as strong but she just wants to help you. She feels bad about me. You know." He keeps his eyes trained on the road.

"Your family is nice", I tell him. "If anything, I was being rude. I wasn't trying to it's just um. Social situations aren't really my thing." I play with the hem of my hoodie.

"You aren't allowed to apologize", Alistair mumbles. I feel his glance at me and I look up to meet his eyes. "God I just feel like shit for what I did. And I don't know how to help you. Like I don't wanna come off as pushy I just wanna ugh I don't know. Make you forgive me for what I did."

"I have forgiven you, believe me", I tell him softly. "Actually I've never been angry at you to forgive you."

"Just promise you'll tell me if you need help with anything. And I promise I'll try to limit my mother from buying extra coolers to keep her frozen meals", he says, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

"But the fridge is still game?"

"The fridge is still on", Alistair confirms, with a grin this time.

"And how can you improve your side of the bargain before I reject your offer", I say in my best business voice.

"We might be able to cut down to 3/4th of the freezer", he replies seriously.

"Half the freezer or I walk away."

"I suppose I have no choice but to agree", Alistair says and he extends his left hand in an awkward sideways angle and I shake it, laughing.

Silence falls between us again, but this time it's comfortable. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, surprised with how relaxed I feel in his presence. We're turning onto my street when he speaks again. "Tell me something."

"Mm?"

"Just how badly do you hate asparagus anyways?" he says.

My eyes shoot open. "I don't hate it. It was really good. Lemony and all." Was I really that obvious? I wonder if his mom could tell. I feel bad yet again.

"What if I tell you there's about a pound of asparagus in this Tupperware and if you stopped lying, I'll take it home and pretend you forgot it instead of leaving you with it and thereby saving you from having to force eat it like you did half an hour ago?" He's smirking. He has me and he knows it.

I sigh dramatically as the car pulls to a stop. "Fine. I can't stand it. It's probably my least favorite vegetable ever."

"See, that wasn't that difficult was it?"

"Yes, yes it was", I humph.

I open the door as Alistair jumps out too and grabs my crutches and backpack. I take hold of the crutches but he refuses to hand over the backpack. "I'll walk you inside."

"Your car is parked in a fire lane", I point out. "I can make it upstairs on my own."

"No police is going to give me a ticket at 8pm", he argues back.

"Remember when you promised you wouldn't be obsessive about helping if I promised I'd tell you when I need help. This is one of those times. I can get in an elevator and make it up 3 floors home. I need this independent win after today", I tell him.

He purses his lips and sighs as he helps me put my backpack on. "I do remember something along those lines yes." He holds open the door to the lobby.

"Thanks for helping me today. And tell your family thanks too", I say as I take a few steps forward.

"If you don't quit apologizing I'll carry you up 4 flights of stairs."

"Very funny."

"I'm not kidding."

I make it to the elevator and hit the button with my elbow. The doors open and I step in.

"Nessa!"

I turn around. He's standing at the doorway. His brown eyes watch me carefully, ready to run over if I need help. He sticks his hands in the pockets of his grey hoodie.

"Keys are in the front pocket."

I can't wave so I just smile to let him know I heard him as the doors closed.

When I make it upstairs, I carefully lean against a wall sideways to lean my crutch, and unzip my backpack's front zipper to find the keys. The keys and at least 20 bars of Dark chocolate and Mint Kit Kats. There's also a post it note with a messy scrawl. 

"To compensate for all the asparagus you had to suffer through."