Walk With Me Part 2

Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to talk with Eli about whatever was bothering him, and about school, and his friends, and his cla.s.ses, and whether he'd decided on a major-I just wanted to talk with him.

"Are you sure?" I said. "I'm a really good listener."

He gazed into my eyes, and I could see that he was trying to make a decision. A wave of disappointment hit me when he said, "No thanks."

"Okay, well, uh, if you change your mi-"

"Oh c.r.a.p!" Eli gasped.

"What?"

He pointed over my shoulder. "Should she be doing that?"

I twisted my head and looked behind me. The bridesmaid who had been dancing solo had given up on finding a partner and was now clinging to a post holding up the tent we were under.

"I don't know how st.u.r.dy those posts are," I said as I got up.

Eli looked at the post and then at the woman who was holding on to it and leaning back with all her weight, moving around and around in circles. "Well, it's holding up the tent, so it's got to be pretty strong."

"Yes, but it's a temporary structure, so it's set in gra.s.s, not concrete." Right at that moment, the woman grasped the post tightly and swung herself in the air, starting to do a stripper twirl. "If she yanks too hard on it, the post might come down. I better go over there and-"

The post tilted, the woman hung on, and both of them went toppling down to the gra.s.s. The rest of my sentence was drowned out by screams as the tent collapsed, knocking everyone under it to the ground, including the bride and groom. Then the heavy fabric fell on us, along with the dangling lights and surrounding furniture, and everything went black.

"Is everyone okay?" I asked, the words m.u.f.fled in the confined s.p.a.ce.

"Seth?" Eli sounded strained. "Seth?" Strained and panicked.

"I'm right here," I said, trying to scoot toward him. "Are you okay?"

"My ankle hurts. It hurts a lot."

"Can you see it?" I asked, trying to sound calm for him even though my stomach rolled over when he said he was in pain.

"I can't move," he said, and then he grunted. "Something's on me and I can't move."

"I'm coming." I pulled myself forward over remarkably st.u.r.dy melamine plates and gla.s.ses and toppled chairs. "I'm almost there."

"Okay," he panted.

Something tall and hard stopped my progress toward Eli. I blinked and squinted and then realized I was looking at the top of the table. It was on its side.

"Eli?"

"Yeah."

He sounded so close. I ran my hands over the table and moved to the side. When I was almost at the edge, I saw him. He was pinned under the table. Two of the table legs were lying across his chest, and one of the metal support beams for the tent was lying on his ankle.

I took a deep breath, reminded myself that being emotional wouldn't help anyone, and then got as close to the beam as I could. "If it's not one thing with you, it's another," I joked.

"Yeah," he said with what almost pa.s.sed for a laugh. "This is my new way to pick up guys-get crushed under heavy objects so they feel sorry for me."

I didn't feel sorry for him. I was terrified he was seriously injured. And I was devastated by the pain and panic in his voice. If we weren't stuck under the fallen tent pieces, I would have pulled him into my lap and held him close. But I didn't tell him that.

"I'm sure you don't have any trouble getting people's attention," I said instead. "Even without being crushed under temporary outdoor rooms."

"The wrong people," he grumbled, sounding frustrated. At least the almost crying tone was gone. "Or maybe the wrong kind of attention."

I managed to climb over the beam, plant my feet on either side of it, and hook my hands underneath it. "What do you mean?" I asked, more because I was trying to distract him by talking than because I was paying close attention to what he was saying. The blood on his pants leg had done an effective job of distracting me.

"You were right," he answered.

I had no idea what he meant. "I usually am," I said, trying to make him laugh again.

It worked. He chuckled and said, "I'm sure you think so."

"On the count of three, Eli."

"What?"

"On the count of three, pull your leg toward you."

"What do you-"

"One." I arched my back. "Two." I tightened my grip on the beam. "Three." I yanked up and he pulled his leg out from under the heavy metal. "You out?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Yeah."

I released the beam and gasped for air.

"I'll move the table next," I said.

"It's okay," he said. "The table doesn't hurt. I'm just wedged in here."

"You sure?"

He paused. "Yeah. But I wouldn't mind some company."

"Company?"

"Uh-huh."

I crawled over to him and collapsed onto my back as soon as I could see his face.

He gazed into my eyes, raised his eyebrows, and said, "So, uh, fancy meeting you here."

"Is that another of the new lines you're testing out?" I asked.

"Why? Would it work?"

I smiled. "I'm sure it would, but not on me."

"Figures." He looked up at the ceiling, which was only a few inches above him at that moment.

With his ankle freed from the weight of the post, my brain could focus on other things, like what he'd said about the wrong guys and the wrong attention.

"Eli?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"No."

But I knew he did. He wouldn't have brought it up otherwise. And he had been talking about not dating anyone before the tent collapsed. The way he had said it made it clear that he wasn't happy about it. n.o.body brought something up twice unless he wanted to get it off his chest.

"Come on," I said. "We've got nothing else to do."

"You're bored so you want me to bare my soul?"

"Why not?" I shrugged and arched my eyebrows.

He scoffed, but when I didn't say anything else, he sighed and said, "Dating sucks."

I refused to think about the sharp pain in my chest. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It seems like all people want to do is drink and f.u.c.k."

"Oh?" I knew I should say something else, but my mouth was too dry.

"Yeah. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with drinking. But the f.u.c.king isn't what I thought it'd be like."

"Oh?" Thankfully, Eli was too immersed in his story or his memories to notice my less than eloquent contribution to our discussion.

"Yeah. I always thought I'd want to bottom because when I'm jerking off I like to-" He coughed. "Anyway, it turns out that it hurts and it's over so fast there's no way it could get me off." He paused. "Which sounds weird, because on the one hand, I'm glad it's over fast so he pulls out but on the other hand, if I'm going to bring myself off, why bother having him there to begin with, you know?"

My heart hurt. "Eli," I sighed and reached for his hand, tangling my fingers with his.

"I didn't think it'd be like that," he said sadly.

"It won't."

"It was," he argued. "You weren't there. You don't know. I tried. Lots of times. It hurt and it sucked and-"

"I know. But maybe if you try it while you're sober and not in such a rush and-"

"And with the right guy?"

"Yes." I let out a relieved breath and nodded. "Exactly."

He squeezed my hand. "I knew you'd say that."

"You did?" I was unaccountably pleased that he knew me well enough to predict my reaction.

"Yeah. It's a total old man thing to say."

And poof poof my ego deflated. I smiled anyway. "Whatever. If you can learn to be patient, I'm sure you'll meet a great guy soon. Then it'll all fall into place." my ego deflated. I smiled anyway. "Whatever. If you can learn to be patient, I'm sure you'll meet a great guy soon. Then it'll all fall into place."

"I already did," Eli whispered.

"Oh?" I was back to my one-word answers.

"Yup." He lolled his head to the side and looked at me. "I'm just waiting for him to figure out he's my right guy."

I swallowed hard. "Oh."

He turned away and looked up again. "Yup. Oh."

"Are you guys okay?" A voice interrupted our conversation and then light shone in our eyes.

After a second to remember where we were and what happened, I answered. "Yes, we're okay, but one of us is stuck under a table. We'll need help moving it off him. And I think his ankle might be broken."

It was a mad rush after that, people and noise and lifting, and then we were out from under the tent and in the middle of a big crowd of people, talking about what happened. n.o.body was seriously injured, but it looked like some of the guests had abrasions and sprained or broken bones. People were climbing into cars to go to the hospital, and they offered Eli a ride.

"Seth?" he said.

I looked at him. His skin was pale and he was trembling. I wanted to scoop him up in my arms and stay by his side until he was all patched up. But the bride was crying, the groom was pacing, and the dancing, pole-swinging bridesmaid was vomiting in the bushes.

"You need to go to the hospital, Eli." Though his eyes had remained dry up to that point, they suddenly looked s.h.i.+ny. I walked over to him, helped him stand, and draped his arm over my shoulder so I could support his weight. "You're hurt and you need to see a doctor."

"What about you?" he asked as I walked us over to one of the cars heading to the hospital.

"I'm a little b.u.mped and bruised, but nothing serious." I settled him into the backseat and brushed his hair off his forehead, exposing pretty green eyes filled with longing. "Let me make sure everyone here is okay, and then I'll come over to be with you."

"Yeah?" he said, the worry leaving his face just like that.

"She ruined my wedding!" The devastated scream drew my attention. "Your cousin ruined my wedding!"

I swallowed down the emotion in my throat, nodded to Eli, and closed the car door.

"She didn't mean to, Adrienne. It was an accident." That was the groom's voice.

"Oh yes, she did! She hates me. Your whole family hates me!"

Wonderful. Now on top of mayhem and bodily harm, we were adding marital discord and family strife to the evening's already full agenda. I took a deep breath and went to go help calm everyone down.