FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Several days pass, and my dad stays by my side the entire time; nobody else comes to visit... not that I expect anyone to.

It's the morning of what I estimate to be my last day here; as promised, Sally comes in to discharge me. She helps me into a wheelchair (hospital tradition or something) and we ride down to the lobby. My dad's there, filling out the last of my release papers.

He smiles when he sees me, clearly relieved that this whole ordeal is over and we can all go home.

Sally wheels me out to the parking lot, and my father helps me into his car.

Sitting in the SUV makes me wonder about the fate of my own car. I doubt I'll be getting it back, but I'm still curious to see just how badly it got damaged.

"Did they manage to salvage anything from my old car, Dad?" I really didn't have anything too valuable, but it would be nice to have my soccer gear back.

"I think so." My father starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot. "They brought in a box full of stuff yesterday. You can go through it when we get home. We'll buy you a new car once you get the cast off," he adds, perfectly anticipating my next question. I'm glad he did because I really couldn't think of a good way to go about asking it without feeling like an ass.

We spend the better part of the ride home in silence. Finally, I decide to break my plans to him.

"Dad, I want to do swimming to keep in shape while my leg's broken."

He looks me over, trying to figure out if I'm serious or not; apparently satisfied, he nods. "Gonna join the swim team?"

I've considered it, but having to face both Arden and Sam every day would be extremely painful; I haven't even given thought to how being in class with them would go, let alone swimming with them. "No, I heard Coach Barken is doing an after-school swim session, I was thinking of joining it."

He nods again. "We'd better drop by the pharmacy to get some waterproofing material for your cast, then."

He makes a U-turn on one of the side roads and we head to the nearest pharmacy. The rain picks up when we get there, and Dad tells me to stay in the car. I just nod. The weather brings back painful memories, and I don't feel like breaking down in the checkout line. As I watch my father make a dash for the pharmacy, the tears finally come. For once, Arden is not their subject.

Sometimes I forget to appreciate just how lucky I am to have a father like this. He's done so much for me already, and I have yet to hear him complain or blame me for any of the things that have clearly been my fault. I don't know if he's doing this because he knows what it's like to have a broken heart, or simply because he loves me; maybe it's both.

My tail starts to wag on its own accord when I see him emerge from the double doors.

He sprints across the parking lot and quickly jumps into the car. "It's a monsoon out there! Icy-cold, too. I hate winters like this." With a long sigh of relief at finally being dry, he hands me the waterproofing kit. "The instructions look pretty complicated, but I'm sure we'll figure it out."

"Yeah, we will." I smile through what's left of my tears and pull him into a warm hug. "Thanks, Dad. Thanks for everything you've done for me."

He stifles a gasp, startled by my sudden gesture. "You're my little pup, Mark," he sobs as he speaks, "I wouldn't dream of doing anything less."

We hold this embrace for as long as it takes. Once we part, he wipes a stray tear from the corner of his eye and starts the car.

"So, how are things going with Warren?" I've gotten away from calling him 'Mr. Fresto' over the past few days.

"Wonderful!" He, in turn, has gotten away from downplaying their relationship out of pity for me. "We have lunch together every day."

He stops at a red light and looks over at me. "Mark, how would you feel if he and I... if we got married?" He shifts uncomfortably at the word, but I'm very happy that he's embraced the concept, if not fully.

"That would be amazing, Dad!" I can't help but get excited for him; and for me. "When are you planning to propose?"

Someone honks to remind us that the light is green, and Dad turns his attention to the road. A minute or two passes before he speaks again; "I want to do it tomorrow at lunch. Check the glove box."

I open up the glove compartment and dig through its contents until I find what I think I'm looking for. It's a small black box.

His tail thumps excitedly against the seat back. "Go on, open it."

I lift the lid slowly; inside is a beautiful ring. Gold and platinum are expertly woven together to create a gorgeous braided effect; it must have cost a fortune.

"I was going to get something with a diamond," he chuckles, "but I thought it would be a bit girly."

"I think it looks amazing, Dad!" Looking at the ring and feeling my father's palpable excitement makes me think of Arden again. 'I'm too late,' I remind myself; my new mantra. During my brief stay at the hospital, I've come to realize that even if Arden did truly love me enough to stay with me, I've done far too much damage to be able to fix things to any good end. I want to call him, to talk to him, but I wouldn't even know where to begin. He's probably crushed by what I did. I wouldn't be surprised if we never spoke again.

The toughest thing now will, of course, be school - especially Fresto's class. The classroom is tiny, and Warren always tries to involve all the students in the activities. What if he pairs us up on a project? I'm not sure I can think of a more awkward situation if I tried. Even being paired up with Katelyn wouldn't be as bad; we have a mutual hatred for each other and that's that. Arden and I; I don't know what we have between us. I would love to say 'nothing,' but that would be a copout. We would be strangers then; nothing lost, nothing gained. No, there's still something there, but certainly not the love I gave up.

"Mark?" I look around; we're parked our driveway, and my dad's looking at me expectantly. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." I manage a nod.

He gets out and helps me out of the car. "Just be careful not to get the cast wet." Gently, he covers it with his trench coat. "It's fiberglass, but I don't know if the binding will hold."

We stagger into the house together and he guides me into the kitchen.

After almost a half hour, we manage to figure out the instructions and get the waterproofing on both my leg and arm casts.

"You're all ready for swimming!" he announces, proudly patting my arm cast and admiring his handiwork.

I'm not sure if I share that sentiment, but I nod in agreement anyway. I need some way to stay in shape if I hope to be in any sort of competitive mode after six weeks of not playing soccer and there is really no alternative to swimming; not with the giant cast on my leg.

I check the clock on the microwave; it's only five, but I feel so wiped that I end up going to bed anyway. It doesn't take me long to fall asleep. Dreams are merciful; if only because I don't remember any of them.

***

My dad wakes me up instead of the alarm clock. "Time for school, Son."

I get up obediently, not sleepy for once, and follow him upstairs. Walking with the cast is tricky at first, but I get used to it. Once we get to the kitchen, he gives me a pair of crutches. Things get even easier then.

We have a quick breakfast of sausage and eggs, get cleaned up and he drives me to school. A feeling of impending dread sweeps over me when I see the building loom in the distance; this is it, my first time facing him.

My dad lets me out by the drop-off lane and drives off. There isn't much to do now but head to class.

Normally, I hate physics. Very little about the subject interests me, and I'm only taking it to get AP credit. Today, I'm fully engaged; I want the class to go on endlessly, so that I never have to face Arden. Murphy's Law wins, as it always does, and the bell rings before I even have time to steel myself. My teacher gives me a pat on the back as I exit, commending me on my attentiveness. "I hope to see a lot more of what I saw today from you, Mr. Heeley."

"I'll try, sir." I force a smile, knowing that if things keep going the way they are, Physics will end up becoming my favorite class.

On my way to history, I realize why so many people crowd the hallways and walk so slowly to class; they don't want to be there. It takes me almost five minutes just to get down the hall, but it still isn't enough time.

I am so wrapped up in my own little world that I don't notice a certain somebody heading right towards me. We collide, and his books fall all over the place. "Sorry," I mutter, trying to maintain balance on my crutches. My sense of smell alone is enough to confirm just who I'd bumped into without so much as a glance.

I look up slowly and come muzzle-to-muzzle with Arden.

It's as if the past few days never even happened. We stand there, looking at each other just like we did on the track that fateful night. All the pain that I thought I'd dealt with comes back. God, what have I done?

His beautiful green eyes pierce me to my very soul as I struggle to keep from crying out. He might not still love me, but I love him; I love him more than ever. I don't give a shit that people are starting to look at us weird; what I wouldn't give for a chance to hold him in my arms again, to kiss him, to be the center of his world once more. 'It's too late,' I remind myself; I had my chance to change, to become worthy of him, and I let it slip. I rest my eyes on his for a few moments more. He will make some boy very happy someday. Somehow, I stay strong; I tear my eyes away from him and head to class.

What have I done?

I get to class just in time to snag a seat in the very back of the room. Arden walks in with Sam just as the late bell rings. The look he gave me in the hallway is still etched across his features. It's like he's in a permanent daze; he isn't sad or angry... just numb. Sam sees me watching Arden and shoots me a venomous glare; I don't blame him. I do my best to keep from looking at Arden through the course of the class. Fresto lectures about something or other; none of it really registers. I keep thinking back to all the fun times I've had in this class; I know I'm living in the past, but at least it doesn't hurt as much when I do. Several times, I even manage to fool myself into thinking that everything is still alright; Arden, Sam and I are sitting next to each other, eagerly waiting for the end of class. The bell rings, and I'm still in the back of the classroom, alone.

I wait for them to leave before getting up and leaving myself. I'm sorely tempted to talk to Fresto about my situation, but he would just scold me. He found it in him to forgive my father; how would he feel to find out that I've just done the same thing? I don't want to jeopardize his relationship with Dad in any way. I take one last look at the fox, even though I've already decided on my course of action, and walk to my next class.

Chris tries to get my attention several times, but I politely ignore him. I feel guilty about it, but I just can't talk to him right now. He's the only friend I have left, and blowing up on him for trying to help wouldn't be the smartest thing. I just pretend to immerse myself in work until I'm actually immersed in it. The bell rings, and I get up to go to the library.

"Lunch?" He makes one more attempt at conversation.

"Can't." I glance at him briefly. "I've got English homework I haven't finished yet."

Even if I wasn't in danger of blowing up at him, I wouldn't go to lunch; the last thing I want is to run into Arden again. The library is empty as usual. I have no homework to do, no schoolwork, so I head over to the stacks and start arbitrarily browsing books to pass the time.

I'm making my way through the fantasy section, when I run into a row of familiar titles; the Redwall series. I don't even know if I'll ever be able to read any of those books again without thinking back to the last few weeks of summer; those fleeting moments when the breeze was warm and we thought we were going to be together forever. Funny, what a few months can do to an unwavering belief like that.

A familiar scent reaches my nose; Danny is standing just two bookcases down from me; either he didn't see me, which I doubt, or he's ignoring me.

I greet him as I walk past. "Hey Danny!" His ears swivel in my direction, but his gaze stays locked on the book he's examining; yeah, he's definitely ignoring me. I begin to wonder just how many of my friends have sided with Arden. A 'New Mail' alert flashes on my phone. I retreat deeper into the stacks to make sure I don't get caught by one of the librarians and prop myself up against the bookshelf.

The message from Coach Barken:

ATTENTION: All who signed up for the after-school swim program.

We have had a change of plans, and the program will be taught by one of my assistants. Give him the same courtesy and respect you would give me. If he sees fit to have you reported, I will kick you out of the program faster than you can change back into your street-clothes. This isn't one of your chess clubs or yearbook societies. Swimming is a serious sport and it demands your full commitment. Absences will NOT be tolerated. My assistant is NOT here to babysit you; he's here to turn you into competent swimmers. If you signed up thinking this would be some sort of baby class, this is your last chance to quit.

Work hard and you will see results.

-Rob Barken (PhysED / Swim Team Coach)

Well, there's one bit of good news for the day; I've heard a lot about Barken from Arden and Sam, and I really wasn't looking forward to having him coach me. One out of a million things went right today; not bad.

The bell rings, reminding me that I still have one more class to make it through before I can call it a day. I leave Danny alone and walk to the English room. Arden isn't there yet, so I take the seat furthest away from our usual spot. More students trickle in; the seats begin to fill up. I look around and quickly realize that the only available seat is right next to me. Arden walks in a couple minutes later and realizes the same thing. He stands in the doorway, evidently trying to figure out what to do. Unable to find an alternative, he walks over to the empty seat and sits down.

I glance over at him to see if, maybe, he's glancing at me; he's not. He's sitting in his seat, his gaze aimed straight ahead. There's no twitchiness, no nervousness; he just sits there, frozen. I try to read him for any signs of emotion, but don't find any; he's like an empty shell.

Eggurd scurries in then and spends the majority of class lecturing about Daniel DeFoe. She passes out copies of Robinson Crusoe and lets us spend the remainder of class reading.

I force my eyes to stay on the page, but they just keep on drifting to the otter sitting next to me. I don't even know if he's watching me. If he is, he's certainly very sneaky about it; but I doubt it.

His complete indifference scares me more than I can describe; had I seen just one glance, I would still believe I have a chance. As it stands, I might as well have ceased to exist.

Discouraged, I shift my attention to the clock; the second it hits five-past-two, I spring out of my seat and make a dash for the door. Eggurd is either too busy to stop me or doesn't want to. I limp out the door and straight to the pool complex. With my cast, the staircase proves difficult to navigate, but I manage; it isn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

A few of the kids are already in the locker room, getting changed. It takes me a bit longer than the others to take off my pants and pull a bathing suit over my cast. When I'm finally done, I shower off and head over to the pool deck. The guys I was changing with are already out there. They are mostly non-aquatics - two foxes, three wolves, a tiger... and oddly enough, a beaver. Nobody seems inclined to be first in the water. For once, I don't feel like setting an example. Instead, I busy myself with scanning the pool deck for Barken's replacement.

A passing shred of conversation catches my ear. "So, I guess this is our coach, huh?"

I can't smell a thing over the thick scent of chlorine, so I turn around to see who it is.