Going the Distance (16 page)

Don't, please. Don't make me feel special.

With a pair of goodbyes, they went their separate ways. Half a block on, Lindsey stopped and turned, watching his back move farther and farther away with every plant of his crutches, feeling her heart grow harder, a tiny fist drawn tight and gnarled as a peach pit.

“Sorry,” she muttered as pedestrians altered their courses to get around her. She tucked herself against the building at her back, watching Rich get smaller, smaller.

“Oh, shit.” She blinked, realization dawning with sickening clarity as his red shirt disappeared around the corner.

“I'm in love with a frigging cage fighter.”

11

“W
HAT
?” M
AYA
'
S
EYES
were round as coasters. “He can't do that!”

They were in the kitchen, Lindsey stirring the leftover chili she was heating up for their dinner. She'd known her sister wouldn't take the news of Rich's imminent departure well.

“He's got a chance for a really big-deal fight. He has to get back to San Diego and train his butt off.”

“What about us?”

A shrug was all Lindsey could muster, a limp imitation of apathy and acceptance when all she wanted to do was scream. “Rich doesn't owe us anything. And I'm sure if he hadn't gotten this opportunity, he'd be happy to keep training you through the month. And don't forget—Mercer said he'd work with you.”

“It's not the same!”

No, it wasn't. “I'm sorry, but that's how it is.” It was a truth Lindsey needed to accept, too, even as her exciting new reality fell to pieces around her.

Maya slumped against the counter. “He promised he'd work with me until September. We made a
deal.
”

“I don't know what else to tell you. Sometimes we have to leave important things behind, when even more important ones are at stake. Just like you have to put training on hold when school starts.”

Maya offered a joyless, disbelieving laugh. “Oh, I am
not
going back now.”

Lindsey countered with her best leveling stare.

“No way. Rich was, like, the only teacher I've ever had who made me feel like I was special at something. No
way
I'm going back. They'll probably be happy I don't. One less crappy score messing up their stupid standardized tests and making the school look bad—”

“I'm ending this discussion,” Lindsey said. “We can talk more about it when you've calmed down.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “
Fine.
He just better not be smiling when I show up for my lesson tomorrow, thinking it's cool to just—”

“You should find out if it's still on. God knows what stuff Rich has to run around and get done.”

“What? He's just going to brush me off?”

She abandoned the chili, turning to hold Maya's shoulders. “Seriously, chill out. You can't take it personally.”

Yet personal was so exactly how it felt to Lindsey. Her brain knew it wasn't, but her heart was ripped and ragged. She'd been left behind for better things before. Brett's abandonment had happened in slow motion, but the pain stayed the same—only concentrated this time around.

Maya slipped out of Lindsey's hold. “I'm going to my room until dinner.”

“Fine.”

After her sister left, Lindsey leaned into the counter, succumbing to a bone-rattling sigh. Some damage control was needed, lest Rich get blindsided by a tornado of teenage outrage tomorrow at the gym. She turned the burner down and found her phone.

He didn't answer, and when the beep prompted her to speak she ended the call, throat too tight, mind a blank. Five minutes later her phone jingled, Rich's name on the screen.

“Hi,” she said, hearing shouts and bass in the background, the unmistakable soundtrack of the gym.

“You just call?”

“Yes, with a bit of a heads-up. I just broke it to Maya you're going back west, and to say she took it poorly is the understatement of the year.”

“Shit. I hadn't even thought that far ahead. But I'm heading out now—I'll swing by when I get home, if you think that'll help.”

“Probably better than suffering her tantrum in the gym with all those witnesses.”

“No doubt. I'll bring a mouth guard in case it gets ugly.”

“See you in a bit.”

She didn't bother telling her sister he was coming—it'd only give her a chance to rehearse her diatribe. They were just ladling chili into bowls when the knock came at the door.

Maya's eyes narrowed. “That better not be him.”

Lindsey headed for the door, shocked as always by the size of him, the way his face made her IQ drop fifty points. “Hey. Brace yourself.”

Rich smiled and hopped inside, spotting Maya at the table. “Hey, kid.”

She glared daggers at him. “Hey, traitor.”

He made his way over, flipping a chair around and sitting. Lindsey took his crutches and leaned them against the wall, then settled down with her own bowl.

“Traitor, huh? I knew you'd make a good fighter. Fans love a grudge match.”

Maya kept on glaring as she blew at her steaming chili.

“Look, kid—”

“Quit calling me kid.”

“Sorry. Maya. But listen—I'd happily keep working with you, if this thing hadn't come up. But you have to admit, if somebody offered
you
a hundred grand to drop everything and give up the next three months of your life...tell me you wouldn't do it.”

She couldn't tell him a thing—the figure had struck her dumb.

“But you must get Christmas break, right? We can pick up where we're leaving off when I come home.”

The shock faded, her anger returning, but diminished. “I'll have forgotten everything I've learned by then.”

“Well, that's your fault, if you don't practice.”

“No, it's your fault. For promising something, then going back on it.”

“I'm sorry. This is my job, and I have to earn that money for my family. We don't have a dad like you guys do. Okay? I never meant to let you down, but it's not like I'm the only trainer out there.”

“You're the only one who'd ever see anything in
me,”
Maya said.

“That's not true. Plus, I promise you, I'm the worst trainer Wilinski's has. You'll be in way better hands with Merce or any of those other guys the next couple weeks.”

But Lindsey was on Maya's side on this one. Rich was irreplaceable.

“It's not the same,” Maya said, but the passion had gone out of her voice.

Lindsey had to wonder exactly what breed of attachment had her sister so upset. Not a starry-eyed crush, she didn't think, nothing romantic or physical. It had to be that Rich was the one who'd discovered her, in a way. The first authority figure—the first cool adult, for that matter—who thought she was special. Not a father figure, not even a fun older brother. But a successful, talented stranger who had absolutely
no reason
to invest his time or energy being kind to her, but had chosen to anyway. It broke Lindsey's heart to fully appreciate what this meant to her sister.

Rich raked his hands through his hair. “I don't know what to tell you. This is the biggest thing that's ever happened to me.”

“Me, too,” she muttered, and stood with a squeak of her chair. She left the room and Lindsey put a hand to Rich's forearm to tell him to let her go.

After Maya's door slammed, Lindsey registered the warm muscle under her fingers and pulled them away. “She'll calm down. She got to vent how she was feeling, which is the important thing.”

He shrugged. “If she decides to come for a final lesson, I'm happy to let her pummel me, if that helps.”

“Want some chili? We've got loads.”

“Thanks, but no.” He got uneasily to his feet and Lindsey fetched his crutches. “My mom has something in the oven. And I've got to break the news to her and Diana still.”

“Oh, right. Won't they be happy?”

“Diana will be, for both the money and because she gets that this is my thing. My mom'll be stressed. And bummed, since she's been so excited to have me home.” He headed for the door and Lindsey opened it. “It's like a deployment. She gets that I need to do it, but she still hates that it means I'll be away for months at a time, risking bodily harm. And two days is, like, no warning at all. The rosary's in for a hell of a workout tonight.”

“Good luck.”

“Once all the weeping and praying's done, odds are twenty to one the next order of business'll be planning a going-away dinner for tomorrow night. Consider yourselves invited.”

“Thanks.”

They both paused, and it drove home to Lindsey just exactly what they were to each other—friends. With benefits, sure, but friends at the end of the day.

I'm upset, too,
she longed to confess. Maya's meltdown embodied everything Lindsey felt about Rich's departure but couldn't be said.
My heart hurts. At least let me sleep next to you one more time. Let me memorize every second with your arms wrapped around me.

She'd let herself believe she'd have more chances, enough chances for their infatuation to run its course and lose its fire, dull this pain when Rich inevitably left. But he'd be gone in two days, not two months, and she was still smoldering.

Rich put his hand to her jaw, stroked her cheek with an apology in his eyes. For her? For Maya? She felt tears brewing and panicked, pulling away with a burning face. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

He straightened, offering a weak smile. “You better.”

Already her chin was trembling, and she backed away, praying he couldn't tell. “Congrats again.”

Another smile, one Lindsey didn't entirely buy, and he hopped around to begin the awkward trip down the steps.

The tears were falling before she even got the door shut. She emptied Maya's untouched bowl back into the pot, then her own. Apparently, nobody felt much like chili tonight.

* * *

I
T
TOOK
EVERY
scrap of enthusiasm Lindsey could fake to smile when Lorena opened the door the next evening.

“Welcome, girls.” She eyed the Tupperware container of cupcakes Lindsey held. “Aren't you sweet?” She swept them into the kitchen.

Diana was setting the table, Andre rinsing salad greens in the sink. Their greetings didn't hang heavily with the angst Lindsey felt. To them, this going-away party had its emphasis on
party.
But all Lindsey could seem to focus on was the
going-away.
Far away. For months.

It's good,
she told herself.
If you really loved him, you'd be happy for him.
As it was, she couldn't help but feel bad for what she was losing.
It's not love,
she promised herself.
Not love, not love.

“Where's Rich?” Maya asked.

“Destinking himself,” Diana said. “Takes him forever with that stupid cast.”

He made his appearance shortly, hopping into the kitchen, hair wet and gleaming. “Smells good.”

His mother fussed until he made it onto a chair. Rich shot Lindsey and Maya a nervous smile, and rightfully so. He'd had to cancel Maya's lesson and Lindsey hadn't spotted him around the building all day. The last time he'd seen them he'd been gifted with a tantrum and thoroughly half-assed congratulations. Such excellent thanks after he'd found Lindsey a home and given up his free time to work with her sister.
Well done, Tuttles.

Lindsey dug deep and offered a genuine smile.

While the others were heaping plates, she touched his shoulder and said, “Sorry about last night.”

“What about it?”

“You know.” She nodded to Maya. “I shouldn't have asked you to come and put out my fires when you're bound to be so busy.”

He waved the thought aside. “I started that fire. Wouldn't be fair to leave you on your own with it.”

His mother set a plate in front of him, and Lindsey went to assemble her own dinner. She wasn't sure what the main dish was, aside from looking a bit like paella and smelling divine. As she sat, she glanced around the table, wondering if anyone suspected what had gone on upstairs after the last dinner they'd been invited to. How soundproof was this place? She blushed, thankful everyone was preoccupied, passing condiments and raving over their first bites.

Dinner passed in a flurry of questions about Rich's match and training regimen, fretful and excited alike.

“Enjoy this now,” Diana teased. “No way they're letting you anywhere near a plate of
arroz marinero
until your fight's over.”

“Don't remind me.”

“I'll text you photos of Thanksgiving dinner,” she added. “To inspire you before your weigh-in.”

“If you do, you're out of my thank-you spiel.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and the conversation shifted to Andre's upcoming job interview at the local radio station.

Soon enough, second helpings and cupcakes had been consumed, and the dishes were rinsed and loaded. Diana and Andre excused themselves to watch a show in the living room, and Lorena bade everyone good-night, with a nagging reminder for Rich to be up early for his flight.

Maya had chilled out during the meal, but she was still mired largely in her own disappointment. She cast Lindsey and Rich a look, one that said she understood Lindsey's farewell wasn't something requiring witnesses.

“Thanks,” she said to Rich, and let him hug her with a stooped tangle of crutches. “It was cool of you to work with me as much as you did.”

“Wish I could've seen you through to September.”

“I'll probably live. Have a safe flight.”

He flicked her temple and she scowled, then held up her guard with a grudging smile and headed for the door. “You better win or I'll be pissed,” she added over her shoulder. Then to Lindsey, “I'm stealing your computer, okay?”

“Color me shocked. I'll be up in a minute.”

Then the door shut behind Maya, and it was just
the two of them.

Rich grinned and asked, “Only a minute? That bodes poorly for either my chances or my longevity.”