Never a Hero Read Online Free PDF Page B

menu, although I knocked over my wine glass in the process. I counted myself lucky it was still empty. I scanned the menu, thinking less about what sounded good and more about what would be easy to eat. Pasta was always a good bet, as was fish, except we’d had that the night before. Not steak, because it could be hard to cut. Nothing from the “Two-Handed Sandwiches” section, although I laughed to myself at the title. At least they’d given me fair warning.
    The waitress stopped again to set down our drinks. I’d assumed she’d pour the wine into the glass in front of me, but instead, she brought a new one, although she had to carefully rearrange everything on the tabletop to make room for it.
    She blew her hair out of her eyes again and pulled her pad and pen out. “You ready?” She wasn’t even looking at us. She was glancing around, taking note of what needed to be done next—who needed water refills and who needed their check. She was hurried and weary, and her impatience made me self-conscious in an all-too-familiar way.
    Nick ordered—lamb chops and moussaka—and then it was my turn. And in that instant, I knew I was doomed. I felt the panic clawing at the back of my throat, making my mouth unresponsive. “I-I-I’d like the b-b-b-b—” I stopped and took a deep breath, feeling their eyes on me. My cheeks burned. I couldn’t possibly look at Nick. I kept my eyes on my menu and tried again. “The b-b-b—”
    “The bruschetta?” the waitress asked. “Or the baked penne?”
    “N-n-no. The b-b-b—” I stopped again. In that moment, I hated her. I hated the damn restaurant. I hated my nerves for making me stutter at the worst possible moments.
    “Why don’t you give us a minute?” Nick said.
    My relief at being granted a reprieve was overshadowed by my embarrassment. “I’m s-s-s-s—” I couldn’t even get the word sorry out. The frustration was like a weight in my chest. I had the sudden urge to cry. I tried to stand up, but there was no room to move my chair back, and as I stood, my menu fell forward, knocking over glasses. I reached for them, instinctively, with both arms, but I’d forgotten about my prosthetic. I wore it so seldom, and in my panic, I didn’t account for the extra eighteen inches of metal and rubber attached to my stump.
    My false hand crashed into the Tetris puzzle that was our table top. Wine spilled everywhere. So did Nick’s mineral water. Two of the glasses fell to the floor, shattering with a crash that silenced the chaos around us. Everybody turned our way, and I imagined their surprise and their quiet snickers when they saw who was responsible.
    “I have to go,” I said, without meeting Nick’s eye. “I’m s-s-sorry. I j-j-j—”
    “Owen?”
    He reached across the table for me and I jerked away. I looked up and saw the waitress headed our way with our appetizers. I could see the annoyance on her face. “I w-w-want to l-leave.”
    “Okay,” he said, his voice calm and reasonable. “Wait for me at the car, okay? Give me a minute to pay the bill.”
    I nodded, but the only thing that held me to that promise was the fact that I didn’t have keys to his SUV and it would have been a long walk home. I’d made a fool of myself, and in front of Nick, no less. I leaned against his vehicle and covered my eyes with my good hand. When I finally heard him approach, I couldn’t even look at him.
    He stopped directly in front of me, ducking down a bit to try to force me to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”
    No, I wasn’t okay. I was a mess. Embarrassed and ashamed. “I’m s-sorry,” I blurted out. “Jesus, I’m so sorry!”
    “For what? The whole reason we went there was so we could break things.”
    I thought I heard the smile in his voice, but I couldn’t return it. “Still—”
    “Owen, stop.” He put his fingers under my chin and lifted it, forcing me to face him. To see that he was indeed smiling at me with a kindness that went a long way toward