by Stacy M Wray
Telling myself I must be mistaken and that my eyes must be playing tricks on me, I will myself to act normal, planting a forced smile on my face.
“You like it?” His voice his low, hopeful. He runs his hand through his hair, like he’s in unchartered waters. He only does that when he’s worried or frustrated.
“Are you kidding me? It’s the best location of the three. How did you find this place?”
I see the pride in his eyes from my answer and he takes a step forward. He’s so close that I can smell his clean scent – a dangerous combination when mixed with nostalgia. And too many memories to count. “Karma…”
“Hey, Braden, where do you want the models?” a crew member shouts, extricating us from this situation. Braden sighs in frustration, turning toward the voice.
Before this gets weird, I say, “Look, I need to get my equipment from the car. Just let me know where you want me to set up, okay?”
I turn to leave before he can answer me, needing to clear my head. Sometimes I think I should have never taken this job. But it’s high-profile, Karma. You need that. I also need my heart intact, and sometimes I don’t trust it. Braden has always had some kind of magnetic pull, attracting me even when I push him away. I just don’t get it.
I try to focus on my date with Lee, telling myself how excited I am to see him again. This calms me down somewhat as I collect my equipment then head back into the building.
But this photo shoot ends up becoming grueling. Yes, I’m getting amazing shots, but the models are complaining, the sun continues to go behind clouds, and Braden’s mood has everyone on edge. I know Braden’s frustrated, knowing he needs to stick to the budget; needing every perfect shot today while we’re all here.
I glance at the time on my phone. There’s no way I’m going to get home in time for my date with Lee with the way things are going. I don’t care if we go out – I just want to see him. This building isn’t that far from the airport, and I have half a mind to text Lee and tell him to meet me here.
I bite my lower lip, deciding what I should do. What the hell? I swipe the screen on my phone and text him, hoping it’s not too late, then slide it back into the pocket of my jacket.
We finally wrap up the in the next forty-five minutes with tensions flying high. I check my phone but still haven’t heard from Lee. Shit! Even I’m tense and it takes a lot for me to get frazzled.
Braden moves swiftly in my direction, his focus intense. When he’s near, he asks, “You get what you needed?”
I nod. “Yes, and they’re going to be awesome.” My attempt at soothing him has little effect. “Braden, relax – it’s going to be fine.”
His hand reaches for the back of his neck as I look over his shoulder, watching Lee step out of his car through a big hole in the side of the building, his eyes cautiously scanning the area. My insides flutter at the sight of him and then I laugh to myself, knowing he’s got to be appalled by my working conditions. We are in a pretty seedy area of L.A..
I lose sight of Lee as he makes his way around the building to the entrance. In another fifteen seconds, he passes through what’s left of the door, his eyes continually watching his step, probably trying to avoid a broken ankle. Finally, he stops and scans the faces of those milling around him, finally landing on mine. My smile can’t be helped, and Braden turns to see who the recipient is, his eyes locking on Lee’s.
Shit! It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Lee approaches me as I start to shrink the distance between us, hoping that in the process I can move this reunion away from Braden. No such luck. Lee reaches me in no time, taking me in his arms and giving me a quick kiss, not caring who witnesses. “I missed you, baby,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’m so glad you texted me.”
Braden clears his throat behind us as Lee looks over my shoulder, pure disdain in his eyes. “Can I help you?”
“Lee – ”
Braden motions toward me with his hand. “I believe my employee and I were in the middle of a business discussion.”
Lee’s eyes slice to mine and I nod. “I’ll be with you in just a minute, okay? We were just wrapping up.” Braden’s behavior embarrasses the hell out of me, making me feel like a petulant child being scolded for not finishing my chores.
And I’m seething mad.
Attempting to reign in my anger, I turn and follow Braden about twenty feet away. He turns to me, still watching Lee over and my shoulder and demands, “Who is that?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No. We’re not going to do this. You want to discuss my job, let’s discuss my job. But my personal life is off-limits.”
Braden’s eyes turn cold as he sweeps his arms out in a wide gesture. “It’s not off-limits when your personal life shows up at your job! Why is he here?”
God, Karma, what a stupid idea you had.
“Look, Braden, I’m sorry – that’s my fault, not Lee’s. We had plans…we were running behind schedule…” I hate that he keeps staring at Lee over my shoulder, trying to intimidate him or something. “It won’t happen again. Now…what did you want to discuss about my job?” My voice is laced with sarcasm, and I know I shouldn’t be speaking to him this way since he’s my boss, but I’m beyond caring. Thank God this job is almost finished.
“Since when are you in to older guys?” His tone is just hateful and this conversation needs to end.
“That’s none of your business and has absolutely nothing to do with this photo shoot.” My voice is low, but I’m practically spitting my words at him.
His eyes don’t leave Lee’s when he says through clenched teeth. “I want your edited photos in my inbox by tomorrow morning.”
What?
“Braden, that’s not possible. Do you have any idea how many photos I took today? Even if I stayed up all night, I still wouldn’t have them all finished.”
He eyes finally leave Lee and lock on mine. “Tomorrow morning, Karma.” And he turns and walks away. I’m so mad I nearly cry out of sheer frustration.
What a jealous asshole!
I quickly compose myself before I turn around. When I do, Lee is right there. “What the fuck is his problem?”
Shaking my head, I don’t want to get into it with Lee. “Can we just go now, please?”
Lee searches for him in the crowd so I grab his hand and ask him to take my camera to my car – anything to get him out of here before he does something stupid. Reluctantly, he does as I ask. But I know this isn’t the end of it.
Especially when I tell him that I have to edit photos all night, canceling our date.
chapter fourteen
October 2007
Senior year is now in full swing, and I feel like I hardly ever see Braden. Between soccer practice, homework, SAT prep, and college applications, I feel like our time together has come to a complete halt. Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating but, man, do I miss summer.
Even though I loved taking pictures for the yearbook, I decided I didn’t want to quite commit to the time it took this year, but I still take pictures of Braden. I made a scrapbook for him for his birthday in November. I’m keeping every write-up from the school and the local paper, and I have a ton of pictures to choose from.
It’s also been hard after his games to even see him – scouts have been lurching in the stands, monopolizing his time after every game. I understand he wants this, but it’s kind of off-putting. His dad is usually the one heading up the introductions so I just stay out of the way. The whole scenario gives me an uneasy feeling.
Braden and I are at our favorite pizza place, finally squeezing in some alone time. He grins at me like a goof. “What?” I ask him.
“I no longer have to prep for the SAT or take it again – I just found out today that I got my magic number.” He pumps his fist into the air.
I laugh and say, “Thank God!” But then I get more serious and tell him, “I’m happy for you – I knew you’d get it.”
He beams. “Thanks. I’ve been working my ass off
for that score.”
“So what does it all mean? Can you get in anywhere now?”
He shrugs. “Most anywhere. At least the ones I’m interested in.”
“Like UCLA.” I know that’s his top pick if they offer him a scholarship.
“Like UCLA,” he repeats.
I know his parents want him to go to Stanford – he’s got the grades and the athleticism, and they’ve got the money. I just worry if they end up offering, his dad will make him go and we’ll be separated. I just don’t know if Braden will stand up to him when the topic is college. He acts like he isn’t interested, and I’m sure I know why. We both know there’s no way in hell I can afford to go to Stanford.
My grandma set up a college fund for me after my grandpa passed away, and both she and my parents contribute to it every chance they get. I can afford to go out of state, but I can’t touch Stanford. And not just because of the money – I don’t have the grades. I’m a good student but nothing like Braden, and I’m a horrible test-taker.
So his plan includes for us to go to UCLA, except I haven’t hit the magic number to get in yet. The sad thing is, Braden’s magic number depends on him getting a full ride, while my magic number relies on getting me on campus.
“So when can we work on your SAT prep some more?” he asks.
I sigh heavily…I’m so sick and tired of talking about the stupid SAT. That test makes me feel like such a failure – I don’t even know what I want to do.
I must’ve rolled my eyes without realizing because Braden’s giving me the look – the one that says Aren’t you willing to do whatever it takes to ensure we stay together?
I wish I had Braden’s confidence in all of this college stuff.
“Karma, being separated isn’t an option. I need you with me if they offer.” It’s not like I don’t want to be with him…I do. But I will feel so out of place – that campus will eat me alive. But I don’t share my fears with him because I want us to be together. I need to be supportive.
“We can study tomorrow if you want. I’m not doing anything,” I say, trying to muster up as much enthusiasm as I can.
He winks at me. “You’ve got this, Karma. We’re going to get you there.”
I’m glad one of us thinks so.
* * *
I arrive at school today noticing signs posted everywhere in support for the soccer game tonight against our biggest rival. Not only is this huge for our school, but it’s huge for Braden also. He’s been on fire, totally in the zone.
We can’t even walk the halls or have a conversation without someone wishing him luck, fist bumping, high-fiving or just batting their eyelashes. I get it but it all seems so weird.
I slip into my third period class, and I don’t think Braden’s even noticed since he’s surrounded by his fans. I must have frustration written on my face when I take my seat because Jeremy Weaver says, “Tough putting up with the paparazzi, huh?”
I look at him appreciatively and mumble, “Sometimes.”
He smiles and studies me – not in a creepy way, but like he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me – why does everyone want to be so connected to someone who just might make it?”
My eyes get big – is he talking about me? I’m not with Braden because of that. I’d rather things remained a little more mundane.
Realizing what I’m thinking, he clarifies, “No, not you – them.” And he motions his thumb to the hallway.
I relax a little, saying, “Oh.” I look back into the hallway again, watching the crowd start to disperse. “And in answer to your question…I have absolutely no idea.”
Jeremy plays with his phone while I look for my notepad in my bag.
We’re in three periods together this year, and he sits beside me in two. I’ve always known of him but we had no previous conversations, which is sad because he can be insightful and he’s easy to talk to.
I watch him as his dirty blonde hair falls in his eyes. His legs are stretched in front of him and he’s laughing at something on his phone. He’s nice looking but his personality makes him even better looking, if that makes sense. And I can tell that he’s a great guy on the inside – I knew that just after two conversations.
Putting his phone down, he looks over at me and says, “So where’s your boy going to college? The offers pouring in yet?”
I shake my head. “No, not yet. He wants to end up in California…that’s where he moved back from.”
His eyebrows rise in surprise, as if he didn’t know this little piece of information. “And where does the lady want to go?”
His question stuns me a little…I don’t think anyone has asked me aside from my parents. It’s always been assumed I would follow where Braden leads. I shrug my shoulders in answer to his question. “Wherever Braden ends up…um…if I can get in.”
Jeremy scowls at my answer. “I didn’t peg you as a follower.” The bell rings before I can defend my comment, and our teacher begins her lecture.
His words followed me all day like a stalker on a mission.
I’m not a follower. I’ve always been my own person. The only reason I’ve agreed to go to UCLA is so Braden and I can be together. But if I’m honest, and money weren’t an option, UCLA would never have been on my radar for colleges – its vastness terrifies me. Something on a much smaller scale would be more suited for my personality. I figure I’ll be fine as long as Braden is there. It will just take some getting used to, that’s all.
That night at the soccer game, the electricity in the air radiates energy, and the crowd overflows the stands. My hands are sweaty and my fingers and toes are tingly. I can’t believe how calm Braden was all day. He has a God-given knack for remaining low-key when the rest of us would freak out. The only time I’ve ever remembered him being agitated was that night at The Pit when we got separated when the place got busted. Maybe that gift attributes to his talent.
Braden and his teammates line up on the field, ready for the kickoff. He looks over to the stands and it doesn’t take long for his eyes to contact mine, initiating a knowing grin. I can tell when he finds his parents next, giving them a nod of acknowledgment. He shakes his body out, waiting for the starting whistle.
My parents came with me tonight. They rarely attend sporting events, especially since I don’t have an athletic bone in my body, but they wanted to support Braden. Sometimes I wish his parents reciprocated the warmth extended by mine, but I still think they see me as an obstacle sometimes. They’re always nice and pleasant but they just never seem to let their guard down, and I wonder if Braden has ever picked up on their bristled personalities.
The sound of the whistle brings me out of my thoughts as the opposing team takes the ball down the field since they won the coin toss. Braden doesn’t take long to intercept a long pass, and he’s already working his magic. When he gets close enough to the goal, he passes the ball to Jimmy, only to have a defender knock it out of bounds. This gives us a corner kick and Jimmy takes it, waiting for the ready signal. He sweeps his foot under the ball, sending it sailing towards the goal, bending slightly. Braden jumps in the air, knocking it into the goal with a header, and the crowd goes wild. My heart swells with pride, knowing how much this game means to him.
My mom elbows me and says, above the decibel of the crowd, “Impressive!” I beam with delight as our team runs back to the center of the field, ready for the next kickoff.
By halftime, we are up four goals to one, Braden having scored three of them. I look around and notice all the scouts, most on their cell phones, and I wonder what their continuous texting means for Braden. The whole night excites me and scares me at the same time. Games like tonight are everything he’s been working towards and it’s finally coming to fruition.
During the second half, both teams are holding their own, neither one scoring, both defenses working their asses off. Their defenders are all over Braden like freaking magnets, and he can’t get a shot in. But finally, in the last twenty seconds of the game,
Braden steals the ball from one of their players and has a breakaway, his speed unstoppable, and takes a beautiful shot from about twenty feet out. The ball flies over the goalie’s head and he jumps to block it, only his fingertips barely touch it, leaving the ball to drop in the right back corner of the net. The goalie hangs his head in frustration, and Braden’s teammates come running to him for a celebratory hug.
I quickly look to where the scouts are seated, seeing huge smiles on their faces. Braden just sealed the deal, but with what team? He’s told me Colorado University, Texas A&M, San Jose State, and UCLA were watching him pretty closely…there were some other smaller schools, but Braden hadn’t been interested in them.
My attention swings to the field, and we finally make eye contact, Braden mouthing, “I love you.” I repeat the phrase, words escaping my lips, and my mom squeezes me.
My dad reaches around her, getting my attention, and says, “That was something. What a great game.” I can’t quit smiling as I nod my head in agreement.
I make my way over to the team, hoping I can at least give Braden a hug before the crowd gets too crazy. I can tell he’s searching for me – I love when I catch him doing that. Finally spotting me approaching, he runs and takes me in his arms, swinging me around with so much energy you’d never know he just ran for ninety minutes straight.
“We did it, baby. That last one was for you. Hell, they’re all for you.” He kisses me until someone standing by clears his throat. I look up to see one of the scouts waiting to talk to Braden. He puts me down as the scout introduces himself as Kyle Taflinger, holding his hand out to Braden.
Turning, Mr. Taflinger says, “You must be the girlfriend.”
The thought quickly registers how I don’t like a label attached to me and instead of agreeing with him, I simply say, “I’m Karma Mickelson,” and offer my hand. I’m not an extension of Braden and I don’t want to be known as just ‘Braden’s girlfriend.’ Even though I love being his girlfriend, there’s more to me than that.