Page 40 of Catcher's Lock

“You’re really giving up on Big Top?” I ask.On me.

“I told you.” He meets my eyes with an iced-coffee stare. “There is no Big Top after this year. What did you think that meant?”

“I thought…” That I’d have more time to fix things. That I wasn’t too late.That maybe you still loved me after everything I’ve done, because no one has ever understood me the way you do.

But what’s two days back in his life after two years of absence? Ofcoursehe’s moved on.

“Why am I only hearing about this now?” Diana’s voice floats into the weighted silence, soft with subtle reproach. Josha’s gaze darts guiltily to hers.

“I haven’t signed the final papers yet. I was waiting to tell you until everything was nailed down.”

My sick flood of relief is short-lived when he continues:

“Itisa good job, though. Shilo helped me set it up. I’ll be teaching rigging at the College of Performing Arts in Fort Collins.” He sounds excited. Eager.

Not at all like my dramatic reappearance in his life is causing him to have second thoughts.

Jeremy’s smug satisfaction oozes from his icy smile. “Didn’t you say one of the guys who interviewed you was super hot? The one who took you out to dinner? What was his name?”

Nope.

Nope, nope, nope.

Resisting the urge to stomp my foot like a petulant toddler—or burst into tears—I carefully scoop my plate from the table and begin piling dirty dishes in the sink. I turn on the water in an attempt to block out the rest of their conversation.

Is this my life now? Two years running, of drowning in my mistakes, only to drag myself back to a shattered wasteland of everything I’m finally ready to admit I want?

I risk a glance over my shoulder and catch Josha watching me, only half an ear on his mom and his brother arguing around him. He’s chewing on his lower lip, something ephemerally vulnerable in the line of his jaw and the tilt of his head. It’s the softest I’ve seen him—awake—since he showed up on my doorstep like a wrathful avenger. As soon as he notices my attention, he locks it down, but I turn back to the sink with a smile tugging at my lips.

A half-dozen images flicker through my mind—him kneeling by the motel bed, hands gentle as he applied the KT tape to my ribs. Dozing in the cab of his truck outside Tippy’s, waiting to ferry me safely home. Chicken soup and folded blankets and his arm under my shoulders when I could barely walk.

Hell, even his bringing me here at all after the disaster with my bike is a huge concession. Maybe the last is only for the sake of returning me to my parents, but the rest of it?

He still cares.

Maybe I’m not a lost cause after all.

14

Left Behind

Josha

Age 18 (Then)

He’s leaving.

Jessie says her mom can get him a spot at Ecole Nationale du Cirque in Montreal after graduation, and as soon as Shilo protests, it becomes Gem’s sole mission to defy her. I become a victim of friendly fire in the battle between him and his mom.

A casualty of an unwinnable war.

I pretend to be excited for him. I’m the perfect supportive friend, helping him figure out the financial aid and all the little administrative details his mom refuses to acknowledge. I film his audition and grit my teeth through a dozen video calls with him and a euphoric Jessie, and I smile until my face aches and my eyes burn.

I tell myself it’s the best thing for both of us—that he needs to get out, and I needto move on.

That I’m not heartbroken.

Some days, I even believe it.