Page 13 of Everything But Mine

Mom would never say that. She wouldn’t let me say that. And I wasn’t about to let myself believe it, either. So I just parroted what she always told me.

“He isn’t mean. He just doesn’t always have time to play with me.”

Amanda huffed. “He behaves like you’re not there. That’s mean.”

“You’re talking a lot for someone who’s in pain.” I tried to shut her down gently. The kid didn’t know shit.

“Eric, don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t be mean to me because you know I’m right.”

My breath shuddered because that was the closest it had gotten to anyone telling me I had a right to feel hurt.

Her fingers pressed against the top of my sternum. “I see you, you know. That’s why I got you out of trouble.”

“You did do that, didn’t you?” I said, smirking.

She nodded against my head, then smiled against my shoulder.

“Well, next time you keep me out of trouble, keep yourself safe, alright? I don’t need anymore grown-ups going at me.” I paused. “Though, Amanda, that was real badass of you.” I swallowed and pushed myself to add, “Thanks.”

Her smile spread into a wide grin against the back of my neck. Amanda may have been a kid, but making her happy made me feel like I was ten feet tall.

When we finally got back to the cabin, the grown-ups were all inside. Gathered around several dining tables pushed together. Drinks in hands. When they noticed Amanda’s leg, they went into full-on Oh my god mode, fawning over her. Amanda’s mom came straight over and took her away from me, holding her against her chest.

My muscles stretched with relief, while my stomach hollowed with reluctance to let her go. I expected Uncle Sandro, Amanda’s dad, to follow his daughter and wife, but he stayed behind, a giant hand resting on my small shoulder.

“Was she at the waterfall you boys like to hang out at?” I nodded. His eyes met mine, the same green shade as Amanda’s. “You brought her all the way back here?”

I nodded again. “Yes, sir.” His hand tightened gently on my shoulder.

“You did good, Eric. I’m proud you had her back.”

“She had my back first, sir.”

“I’m not surprised.” He nodded. “Still, any good man would be proud to call you their son. I know I would.”

His words reached the depths of my acknowledgment-deprived heart, even if I couldn’t fully understand everything he meant. His words made me tear up with an itch to hug that man, more than I’d had my own father. I wasn’t a crybaby, though. Amanda was right; my dad was mean.

I felt my mother’s arms circle around my shoulder and pull me toward her chest. “Are you okay?” It was just my mom this time.

I nodded, looking at my right hand, covered in Amanda’s blood. “I think I just need to get cleaned up.”

I headed to the room where I was staying. Then her dad’s voice reached me again.

“Eric.” He paused. “You stood up for each other today. It’s a good thing to find. People you rely on.”

I shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “She’s my friend.”

Mom exhaled and glanced at Sandro. He tipped his head to me one more time before heading to check on Amanda, my mom lingering a second longer before following him. As I turned toward the staircase, I caught Amanda’s eyes through the crowd—just for a second, just long enough for her to give me the smallest, crooked smile.

I certainly couldn’t understand the true depth of her smile that day. Not fully. Not the way I do now. Because that day, she chose me, and I chose her. And that, I’m beginning to understand, was everything.

Her soft snores pull me from the past. Her legs and neck are all curled up to fit on the couch. It looks so uncomfortable that I don’t delay it anymore. I slide my arms underneath her neck and knees, lift her as I stand, and bring her to my chest. Her curves press against my pecs and stomach, and it feels good to soak in the weight of her in my arms. The blanket moves, allowing me to see the small scar on her right shin. The memory behind it is permanent on her skin, just as it is etched into my soul. She cradles into me, and I tense. If she were to murmur any name but mine, it would break another piece of my barely functioning heart.

Mindful of not waking her up, I place her in the center of the futon in my office. If she’s done with Daray—truly done with him…