The Boy Who Broke My Leg

Chapter 16

I don't realize how cold I actually am until we're in Alistair's car and the heat is blasting. I rub my tingling fingers, trying to get some warmth into them. Alistair wordlessly turns the car on and starts the drive to my house. 

"I'm sorry", I whisper after a few minutes of silence.

Alistair gives me sideways glance. "Sorry for what?"

I bite my lip. "I didn't tell you. About today. When you asked last night. I should've."

"You weren't obligated to tell me anything. I just-I don't know, I thought we trusted each other, Vanessa."

I pick at some lint on my sleeve. "I do trust you. I trust you a lot."

Alistair doesn't say anything so I take a deep breath and continue.

"This is just an awful day for me. When my mom um, died, I didn't take it well. Like I knew it'd happen. They'd diagnosed her almost half a year before so I knew it was coming. But everything seemed to change at the same time. After Christmas my dad got signed to an international airlines company. And I convinced him I could take care of myself. And I couldn't. I went to every party and I was reckless and I um. I was drinking way too much alcohol. Last year on this day I drank almost a whole bottle of tequila and yeah. It was bad. Kayla almost took me to the hospital when she found me unconscious on the kitchen floor. Which is probably why she's sent me so many texts and freaking out today. I can't blame her for it, she's an amazing friend. More then I deserve. Anyways I stopped after I saw how scared she was for me, how terrified she was for my future. And my mother would've been absolutely ashamed if she'd been there. So yeah, I left the partying crowd and don't drink anymore." I'm rambling now and I glance at Alistair to see if he's even listening to me. He is, eyes widened and lips parted, catching my every word. I swallow and catch my breath and keep going. I don't even think my brain is processing the words at this point, they just keep flowing out of my mouth like a broken dam.

 "I knew I'd be a mess today and I knew if I told you, you'd check up on me and I don't know. You just keep seeing me when I'm so weak and pathetic and can't do anything on my own. Like with the leg and then yesterday. I don't want you to see me as this broken person." Because I like you and I want you to like me back and nobody likes a dependent loser. I don't add the last part.

I hold my breath to wait for his reaction to my word vomit and it's now that I notice that the car is already parked in front of my apartment. Alistair fully turns towards me, forcing me to look him in the eye. "Is that what you think? That I think you're weak, pathetic and broken?"

I examine my nails and give him a half shrug.

"Hey", Alistair says softly and I drag my eyes up to meet his reluctantly. "I don't think you're any of those things. It's sad that I have to actually say these words to you because it means I'm not making my admiration for you obvious, like I should be. I admire you, Vanessa. You're one of the most independent, hard-working and tough people I know. You know what really made me feel like shit after I broke your leg? Obviously I was upset that I'd hurt you and put you in physical pain, but I also saw how helpless it made you feel to not be able to do stuff by yourself. I saw how difficult it was for you to let people help you because you have this mind set to not want to rely on anyone. Which is amazing, but sometimes you need to stop over working yourself and know when to lean on people. Which was literally, cuz you know. Broken leg. Lean. Pun." He gives me a slight smile, but then his voice gets serious again. "I'm sorry about your mother. I know you're probably sick of people telling you that, but she sounds like she was an amazing person and it's really unfair how life just rips people away. And I'm sure if she were here today, she'd be super proud of the person you've become."

I just stare back at him. Because in the few months he's known me, Alistair has managed to figure out the exact things that bother me and the right words to say to make me feel better. For a moment, emotions swirl through me and I'm unsure if I'm going to cry or jump into this boy's lap and hug him. Moonlight is streaming through the windows, the only light illuminating our faces in the darkness. His dark eyes are still boring into my soul. For the briefest second, I wonder what'll happen if I lean over the central console and kiss him. Would he lean away, disgusted and never talk to me again? He could. And I'd lose one of the two friends I have. Or he'd kiss me back. And what'd happen then? All this flashes through my mind in seconds and I helplessly stare back at him, wondering what he's thinking.

And that's when my stomach chooses to let out a loud wail that sounds like a dying walrus.

"Vanessa?"

"Mm?"

"You wouldn't by chance have eaten anything today?" Alistair raises his eyebrows at me, already knowing the answer.

"I ate an apple."

"And my Chef's kiss spaghetti from last night is just rotting in the fridge?" 

"You to made three boxes of noodles", I point out. "No normal human being can eat that much pasta."

"You definitely can, if you eat it four times a day", he protests. "Believe me, I've done it."

"Four?"

"Breakfast, lunch, snack and dinner", Alistair replies, in a 'duh' voice. He laughs at my expression of disgust. "Well, we can't have Michelin star food go to waste now, can we. Better go fix that." He unlocks the door.

No parking zone", I remind the spaghetti eating psychopath.

"I'll take my chances. Risk it all for the pasta."