Finding Me

Thankfully Daniel’s gaze turns to Fitz in curiosity. “And that would be located where exactly?”

“A little lower than the pec,” Fitz answers.

Daniel’s hand grazes his own chest in confirmation.

“More on the side.” I reach forward and slide his hand toward his armpit.

Daniel smiles and nods a couple of times. “I’ll let him know. The passes will get you back there, but you have to wait until the mat is cleared.”

We say quick goodbyes and then I listen to Fitz explain the different divisions of professional and amateur boxing.

When the emcee stands in the middle of the ring, the crowd is already going crazy. He riles them up even more with some carefully chosen words. My heart races in synchronization to the thundering roar of the crowd as Da

“Don’t they wear something to cover their faces?”

Fitz turns and shakes his head. “Only in the amateur league.”

My eyes widen in disbelief, and Fitz clutches my hand. “Don’t worry, H. Da

I barely watch any of the fight. I can’t. My thoughts on it being barbaric are amplified as I struggle to remain seated throughout the event as grunts and impacts reach my ears. I work even harder to ignore the increasingly savage things people are screaming around us.

The match ends with Da

My mind instantly questions the validity of what’s occurring, certain that he’s just pointing in the general vicinity, or possibly at one of the girls standing near me, screaming his name and other promises.

“I think he’s telling them all he’s only interested in one pair of panties,” Fitz whispers. My eyes narrow at him, making him laugh.

I turn back to Da

That night I lie in my bed thinking about the past couple of months and smile. This transition has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced, but I’m starting to feel again. I’m feeling happiness and excitement. I’m feeling humor and love. I know that most of this is attributed to Fitz and my sisters who have all ba

“It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light.”

–Aristotle Onassis

It’s Tuesday, and just after 1:00 a.m. in California. I know I’ll wake her up if I call, but I can’t rid the image that keeps playing in my head that’s making my heart race faster each time it reappears. I try to distract myself and open my laptop to pull up the app for movies and TV shows, but I can’t seem to focus on any of them, and I already know the power of my imagination—there are times that it’s ruthless. I’ve been haunted with these nightmares plenty of times, but this one was so real that I still see it each time I blink.

My thumb scrolls down to her name and hits send.

“What’s wrong?” Kendall answers, panic coating her sleep-filled voice. I have to lift the phone away as my eyes squeeze shut and fresh tears flow down my cheeks with a mixture of relief and sadness from missing her.

I take a deep breath and force a fake smile on my face. Even though she can’t see it, I need her to hear that I’m okay. “I’m sorry. I just had this crazy dream, and I really needed to hear your voice,” I admit.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head and let out a guttural and choppy laugh that sounds more like a sigh. “No. No, I don’t,” I assure her. “I’m sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“It’s okay, I’m up.”

“It’s one-thirty, you should be sleeping. And you don’t want to wake Jameson up too. You guys have to work in the morning.”

“A tank could drive through our room and Jameson wouldn’t wake up.” A genuine laugh escapes my lips, followed by a few more residual tears that I wipe away with my knuckles. “I’m serious! Do you remember when Abby and Je

“They had to stay over because they were so drunk,” I say, recalling the night with a laugh.

“Yes, all in mine and Jameson’s room!”

“Oh my God, I forgot about that.” My cheeks begin to burn with a smile and residual embarrassment.

“He’ll be disappointed to learn that you’ve already forgotten spooning with him.”

“It didn’t work very well. I was the big spoon for him, and the little spoon for Abby.” I laugh again and close my eyes, picturing the tangled sheet that was too weighted by Je

Kendall giggles. I’m sure her mind is tracing back to the same memory that mine is of Jesse waking us all up with mouthfuls of Spanish words that seemed much louder and more confusing with the hangovers we were suffering from.

The noise attracted both Max and Landon to come rushing in, barely clothed and looking confused and concerned, each carrying a weapon: Max, a baseball bat, and Landon, a golf club. The next afternoon, Abby did a fifteen minute impression of the two of them that had Kendall and me in tears.

Jameson slept through it all, finally waking up when Max shoved him, and told him he’d violated some brotherly code by cuddling with me.

“I can’t believe Abby’s going to be a mom,” I say on a whisper as I curl my legs tighter to my chest.

“I know. She’s going to make a great mom though.”

“You’re right, she is. And they’re going to have such a stinking cute kid. It’s going to be ridiculous.”

A companionable silence settles between us, and it’s comforting to have it there and not have either of us working to fill it like we have been over the past few months.

“And Je

“He is a good guy,” I say, quietly filling my lungs with a breath of cold air.

“I’m really excited to see you.” Kendall’s voice is warm and as comforting as my pillow.

“I’m excited to see you too. Go to sleep, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Kendall?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

“I love you too, Ace.”

I fall asleep with a watery smile across my face.

By the time Fitz arrives Saturday, I’ve changed my clothes far more times than this causal setting warrants. I’ve shamefully hidden all of the rejected articles of clothing in a giant heap in my closet so he doesn’t see the evidence of my nerves.