Anything but Ordinary(10)

“No, you don’t,” her mother responded firmly. “You’re grounded.”

“Mom,” Sydney said with a condescending smile, “we did the family dinner. Let’s not try the whole punishment thing.” And with that, she was gone.

Bryce looked at Sydney’s empty place, her food untouched. The front door closed, and her parents continued to eat. Bryce opened her mouth to say something, but what?

“So…” She swallowed a forkful of pasta. “I went into the den before dinner. Are you going to tell me why the last highlight DVD in there is from four years ago?” Over the last couple of months, when her father came to her hospital room from work in the evenings, she had grilled him about how the season went, how his recruits were looking, how Vanderbilt had placed in their conference. But he had always changed the subject.

Bryce’s father sighed and put down his fork. “I stopped coaching, Bry.”

She thought of her dad’s office in the Vanderbilt athletic department, where she’d spent so much of her childhood. The walls were so covered by Sydney’s art and Bryce’s newspaper clippings that the paint was barely visible. Bryce would sit in the swivel chair while he was at practice, eating granola bars and playing games on his computer. Then when she made the Junior Olympic team, he let her practice with the college divers. They would sit for hours after everyone else had gone home, watching tape, pointing out the good and the bad as Bryce iced her legs and braided her long, wet hair. She tried to imagine it now, filled with someone else’s kid’s drawings.

“It was…too much…after your accident, Bryce. I hope you understand.”

“But you’re still wearing Vanderbilt stuff—”

“Of course, of course. I didn’t leave Vandy. Never could. I’m in Admissions now.”

“So I guess we won’t be watching tape, then,” Bryce muttered.

“We can still watch tape,” her father offered, trying to smile.

Bryce just shook her head. “You guys have to tell me things.” She found herself choking a little on the words. “I mean…I know you’re not used to me being able to hear you, but I’m here now. I’m awake.”

Her parents looked at each other, but their eyes never met, as if they were trying to press two magnets together at their north poles. They barely smiled, barely touched each other. Is that how it had been the whole time she was asleep?

Her father squeezed Bryce’s forearm, and they went back to their pasta. Silence and chewing. The sipping of water.

The phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Bryce said, wheeling to the kitchen, past her parents’ protests.

“Graham residence.”

“Oh, my god.” The young man’s voice sounded oddly familiar.

“Hello?” Bryce said.

“Bryce, it’s Greg.”

She clutched the phone, speechless.

“Bryce?” His voice had gotten so much deeper.

She leaned on the counter and hoisted herself out of her chair.

“Um. Hi.” Why did her voice suddenly sound so high and squeaky?

“Hi,” he said. She could tell he was smiling. She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the window. She was, too.

A few days before her accident, she and Gabby and Greg had gone to Percy Lake, like they always did in the summer. They started at the back of the dock and then sprinted toward the lake, shoving off the edge in long jumps over the water, sailing, seeing how far they could get.

It was only a few days before trials, but for some reason Bryce wasn’t worried about getting hurt. She had done a good one, a really long jump with a big splash, and she came up to the surface farther away from the dock than she expected. She swam back toward the shore, and Greg slid into the lake to meet her. They treaded water, facing each other, their long limbs scissoring in and out of cold patches in the cloudy water.

“I love you,” he had said, smiling.

“I love you, too.”

I love you, she heard again, as clear as if it was yesterday.

“I can’t believe it’s you. How are you?” he asked. He spoke slowly and earnestly, just like he always did. She had fallen for that drawl right away.

“Good question. It’s been crazy—” Before she could finish, she heard another voice at the end of the line. “Who’s that?” Bryce said.

The voice came closer to the receiver. “It’s Gabby! Are you seriously on the phone right now? Is this seriously Bryce Graham?”

Bryce let out a scream.

Her parents rushed into the kitchen. She held out her hand. “Everything’s fine, it’s just Greg and Gabby.”

Bryce’s mother looked like she had seen a ghost. “But why are you out of your chair?” she whispered.

“Oh, Beth. She’s fine. Let her talk to her friends.” Her father turned back toward the dining room.

“Bryce!” Bryce heard Gabby yell even though the phone was pressed against her chest. She held up one finger to her mother and returned the phone to her ear.

She felt like laughing and crying. The last time they had talked on the phone, Gabby was contemplating cutting her hair because she had gotten her heart broken by Bryan Godard. She was going to start being tough, like Bryce. Bryce had pointed out that her own hair was long, and Gabby had forgotten all about the haircut idea by the next day.