Mina

I'll Be Here

I ended up staying a little later at the library which left me scrambling to stay on time. I thumbed hastily through the mail as I rushed through the door to the house, my keys dangling from my mouth as I kicked the door shut. That was until I saw his letter and everything froze, myself included.

My heart was trying to burst through my chest.

But yet even through the discomfort I couldn't manage to get myself to do anything other than stare.

He had wrote back.

He had wrote back!

I was terrified.

I had wanted it, yes, but what if everything changed. What if he didn't like what I had wrote?

I snapped my eyes shut, hoping if I couldn't see the letter maybe my heart would stop panicking.

It was just paper, I told myself. It did not have the ability to change anything unless I read it.

Maybe I just wouldn't read it, I'd gone years without his letters. I could just slip this one in the box and tuck it in the back corner of my closet and forget all about it.

I let out a sigh, my eyes rolling in my head at my own ridiculous thoughts. And with that my ability to move came back. I dropped my keys on the table along with the mail except for my letter.

I slipped my finger in between the fold of the envelop but just as I went to tear it open I stopped. I was going to read it. But maybe not yet. Besides I was late or close to it.

Placing the letter down, I started for my room, only to turn around and snatch it off the table. Penny may still be in the hospital but I wasn't going to leave the letter in common grounds. I'd put it some place safe or maybe I'd just carry it around with me.

Maybe.

I left the letter on my bed, changing my clothes and redoing my ponytail so I didn't look like such a mess. It wasn't that I was trying to look nice. It was just Owen.

I was back in my car a short twenty minutes later, the letter in my passenger seat.

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When I got to Crip I sat in my car fighting with myself about opening the letter. In the end, I stumbled out of my car without reading it and into the building. I was met by shouting that echoed out of the arena. I followed the noise, my eyes scanning the small crowd that occupied the bleachers, the game already going.

It only took me a moment to find Owen amongst the players on the court. His shirt was soaked, dark hair matted to his forehead, eyes laser focused as the ball launched into the air toward him. In lightening speed he managed to gain control of the ball, whipping himself around as he pushed himself with more force than I'd ever seen him use down the court.

He was in his element.

It was easy to see. A smile came to my face, warmth building in my chest. I was glad he had found his way back.

I skirted the court, tucking myself away in the back discreetly. From where I sat, I could see Jase and his grandparents, all three alert and focused, cheering as loud as they could. Jase would occasionally shout directions at Owen, but I knew Owen didn't hear them. He was miles away in his mind, his sole focus the game. It was written all over him.

When Owen had first asked me to come, that night on the phone when I had called him. Trying to hide that I was crying, desperately wanting his comfort but terrified of it all at the same time. I had balked at the idea. My first instinct was to run the other direction. To not become too involved or show too much interest.

And I wasn't stupid enough to keep denying the fact that Owen had gotten to me. As much as I had tried, he had. I cared about him.

Which is why I had made the effort to come to his game.

———————

I had waited until Owen had a chance to talk to his brother and grandparents. Admiring from afar as they congratulated him, they were there for him. Supporting and encouraging. Every time I saw Owen with his family, I better understood why he was the way he was. Why he was patient and understanding and steady. He had those people in his life. He had grown up, seeing his grandpa steady, his grandma understanding, both of them patient.

Owen had started to wheel himself away when I approached, Jase saying something. I was met seconds later with those chocolate brown eyes and that small smile that was hard to resist.

He glanced back at his family before turning toward me closing the distance between us faster. That small sweet smiled morphed into that heart stopping one, I tried my hardest to keep myself calm, neutral, unaffected.

"You came?" I could hear the awe struck shock in his voice, my heart knotting in my chest slightly at how happy my presence had made him.

"You asked me too.  You were great by the way." I shrugged away my importance, reminding myself that we could only ever be friends.

"Thanks." He always surprised me at how genuine he sounded. Like the fact that I had done what he had asked was beyond anything anyone had ever done for him.

During the game I had made up my mind. I was going to ask Owen if he wanted to get dinner. As friends. Not a date, as he said before when we were in a similar situation. But just as I started to ask if he wanted to he spoke also.

Maybe I was nervous.

But I laughed along with him.

"Go ahead." I told him, wondering if his heart was beating as hard as mine.

He looked up at me, his dark hair still wet and falling in his face. I could see where the small dimple would be if he was having pain. It was just a slight divot in the center of his forehead.

"Want to go get some food?" He asked.

Even though I had been prepared to ask the exact same question my brain still seized up. The letter tucked into the visor above the driver's seat rushed back to my mind. All the things it may or may not say. All the things I wish it would say in hopes it could fix whatever Penny had broken inside me.

When I didn't answer right away Owen kept talking. "Not a date. My treat, or well, my dad's." I laughed and he instantly smiled again. "To say thank you. For giving me this."

I let my eyes wander the building. Still filled with people, voices echoing off the walls. The energy from the game still an electric hum through the air. Images of Owen mid game, alive, his body thrumming with adrenaline, living in that split second. I hadn't given him it. He'd done it all himself. I'd merely just pointed him in the direction.

And that was hardly worth mentioning.

I brought my eyes back to his. It shouldn't be a thank you dinner, it should be a celebratory dinner. Celebrating Owen and his triumphs because I knew he still didn't realize just how far he'd come.

"Let's celebrate instead.  You did win after all." I told him.

Owen nodded, a smug smirk falling on his face. "Yeah, we did do that, didn't we?"

I wanted to laugh, I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him how proud I was of him. I wasn't just talking about the game. I was talking about the last several months. But there was no way I could, so I rolled my eyes instead.

"I just need to grab some things, I'll be right back." He said as he slowly wheeled himself backward.

"I'll be here."

My heart thundered in my chest, my mind not sure if it had meant that as more than just waiting for him to clean up. Or if it had meant for longer.

Would being there for longer be that terrible?

Only if Owen was like everyone else.

The problem was, I didn't know how to tell if he was or not.

                              ————————

I'm having a touch of writer's block. Someone come slap me and get me out of it.