Chapter Sixty-Six: I Was Wrong

Forgive: stop feeling angry or resentful towards (someone) for an offence, flaw, or mistake.

*

Mia rested her head on the coffee table, eyes closed as she listened to the radio. I couldn't tell if she was asleep or not. For the first time all week, she wasn't in her cheerleader uniform.

Watching her napping was making me tired myself. For the last few days, it had been nothing but tryout after tryout for me. My legs were sore.

"You okay, kid?" I asked.

Mia's eyes fluttered open, but otherwise, she gave me no answer, and she closed them.

Bonnie's wheels creaked as she entered the room, and it was like Mia was brought to life. She sat up, eyes wide, and knocked on the coffee table in excitement. I tried not to get offended by this but couldn't help but smile.

Mia stood and rushed over to her sister, offering gestures as she asked her a question. Bonnie smiled and shook her head, "Sorry, kid. I said I'd hang out with Amelia this afternoon, we're going to Windmill Lake."

Mia physically deflated, but quickly added, "Can I come?"

Bonnie pressed her lips together, a twitch I had seen and done many times when my younger siblings wanted to hang with my friends and me. "It's not that I don't want you to come, but I don't think you'd have much fun. We're gonna just be talking and wandering around the lake."

Mia gestures slowly got smaller, appearing sad. "I don't mind walking…"

Bonnie took her hands in her own and gave them a soft kiss, "Maybe next time, okay? I'm sure you'd love to have some alone time again with your new schedule."

Bonnie grabbed an apple and rolled out of the kitchen, leaving Mia standing alone. Mia rocked on her heels, her face not expressing how irritated she was while her hands played with the ribbon on her skirt. "I'll hang out with you, Mia," I called.

She looked over her shoulder at me and shook her head, walking back over to the table and resuming her nap. I sighed, laying down on the lounge to nap as well. A few seconds later, Estelle walked in, her presence looming over me as she said, "Oh, a nap party?"

I opened one eye and shooed her away, "Go nap on that lounge."

Estelle looked at it and nodded, "Sounds great!" She leapt over my lounge, stepped over Mia, who by now had shifted to a pillow on the floor, and laid on the lounge. I started to nestle into the lounge, when Estelle asked, "Where's Bonnie going?"

"That doesn't sound like napping," I remarked.

"Just curious," Estelle said.

"Hanging out with Amelia," I informed, "Two of them seem close now."

Estelle snorted, but nodded, "It's nice seeing her with new friends." A second later, I heard her yelp, startling me as I saw Mia amid hitting the princess. "Ow! Mia! Stop it!"

I rolled off the lounge and scooped up the prodigy, who stopping thrashing the moment she was off the ground. "I think someone is grumpy," I said resting her on my hip, Mia responded with a grouchy expression, "Come on. I'll read you Deltora Quest until you fall asleep."

A grouchy looking Mia was funny to look at, but she didn't object as she rested her head on my shoulder, clearly tired. I started for the hallway, and heard Estelle call behind me, "Worst party ever!"

*

I sat at the dining table that night, glaring at my now empty plate, wracking my brain for a solution. Amia and my disagreement presented itself in meal routines, with either herself or me having early or later dinners then everyone else if we all ate together at all.

Robyn and Ava were in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes. "I don't think you have the Force, Dawson," Ava called.

"If this plate shatters, I'll crap myself," I confessed, massaging my temples.

Robyn must've signed something, as Ava whispered, "I don't know, ask him."

I lifted my gaze as Robyn sat across from me, head tilted as she signed. "You good?"

I nodded, "I'm good."

"You don't look good."

"I promise I'm good."

"Is this because of Amia?"

I sighed, blinking away lingering exhaustion. "Not everything is about Amia," I answered.

Robyn started signing, at first, I understood, but as the sentence got longer, I lost track of what she was trying to say. Ava translated as she dried a plate. "She's asking about what you're thinking of doing."

I rubbed my eyes and fixed my hair. "I don't know. Amia'll barely talk to me, and everything I've tried to do to say sorry hasn't worked."

"Well, what have you tried?" Ava asked, taking an interest in my situation.

"I confronted her when she did nothing about the Bonnie rumour, and she let me have it. I'm pretty sure she hates me," I informed, "I've tried not accepting the money, but I'm still being sent it. I've offered to give it to her or to buy her something with it, but she won't give me the time of day."

Ava sucked in her cheeks and muttered something under her breath, looking at Robyn who seemed to be able to understand her. "Pardon?" I asked, leaning forwards.

The girls shared a glance before Ava clarified, "Well, I know you're a smart guy, Landon, but sometimes being simple and genuine is the answer."

I slouched in my chair. "How much more genuine can I be? I've said sorry, I've offered to deal with the money in question, what else can I do?" I asked.

"Sometimes," Robyn said, Ava, translating, "People don't want you to do anything, just admit that what you did was wrong."

I considered Robyn's advice. The whole time I had been trying to rationalise and explain why I had done what I did. Perhaps Amia didn't want justification, just acknowledge it was wrong. "But would that be enough for Amia to forgive me?" I asked.

The girls shared a quick glance. "It's probably a start, Landon," Ava replied.

I grumbled under my breath as I lightly messed up my hair again. I rose from my chair and excused myself, marching throughout the dorm in search of Amia.

After some searching, I found her on the patio in the backyard. A few weeks prior, Ava had set up a punching bag there, which was occasionally used by the dormmates but only regularly used by Ava. Amia was dressed in her sports attire, hands taped sloppily as she struck the bag with swift punches. I was impressed by Amia's technique, as she steadied her bag when it swayed and slowly shifted around it. Eventually, I was in her line of sight, her sweaty, hateful face glaring at me.

"Go away," she said flatly.

I stepped forwards, prompting her to step away from the bag. "Amia, can I have a moment?"

"You come any closer," she snapped, "I will hit you."

"Amia, please," I countered, hands up.

Amia focused on her hand momentarily, pulling and rewrapping the loose tape. When she looked at me again, I sputtered, "I am sorry." Amia froze. "What I did was wrong, and selfish, and at the time not in your best interest. I'm sorry for any part that I played in anything that happened to Amada, or to you."

Amia's eyes dropped to the ground at the end of my apology, the tight grip on her tape loosening as her arms hung to her side. "Sorry…" she mumbled as if unsure of the phrase, lifting her chin but not looking at me, "The whole military thing isn't your fault. It's been a threat in our house for a couple of years now." She walked to the bench and took a seat. "I'm not happy you took the money, Landon, and I still don't know what was real and what was fake."

I spoke a little too frantically, "Real. I promise you it was all real."

Amia's lip curled into a half smile. When she looked to me, I saw fragile eyes, like the ones she gave me when she overheard her Father. "Landon…" she breathed as I sat next to her, "I'm scared."

I blinked, taken aback by her words. "Scared?"

She sniffed, scratching under her eye anticipating tears. "If this works, I'm not Amada back," she explained, "And if it doesn't work… Amada… you don't walk away from something like this the same. And frankly, I don't know what outcome is worse!"

Amia was trying not to cry, and for the most part, was succeeding, but her lower lip trembled while her hands were scrunched so tight the tape was turning the edges of her hands red. I didn't know if I was forgiven or if what I was about to do was out of bounds for the moment, but I reached out and rested my hand on her shoulder, pulling her towards me in an attempt to comfort her.

She didn't pull away from my hug but equally didn't embrace the touch either. She just leant against me, eyes still glassy, as we sat in silence, worried about the state of our little brother.