I look to Katrina. “I should probably go.”
But my goodbye is interrupted as a little blonde head throws himself around Katrina’s legs. “Mom, did you see it? I kicked it in the goal.”
“Good job, buddy.” She offers him her hand and he slaps a low five.
I gawk. I can’t even help it. Knowing she had a son was one thing. Seeing him, watching them interact, knocks the breath out of me.
Brown eyes meet mine. He looks so much like Katrina that I can’t help but smile. Button nose, big eyes, dark lashes, and a mess of blonde hair.
“Uh, Christian this is my friend Joel.”
He tilts his head up to really take me in.
“What’s up, little man?” I put my fist out and he studies it warily before bumping his little fist to mine.
“What’s for snacks?” One of the kids calls out and that gets all their attention. Eager hands reach out and push past us.
I follow Katrina’s lead and we move to the other side of the table and help kids fill plates with snacks. For ten minutes we work in silence helping kids, filling plates, cleaning messes, re-filling plates after half the kids spill their food on the ground. I’m damn near breaking a sweat when the coach blows the whistle and the kids take off back to the field.
We toss the trash and Katrina finally breaks the silence. “You didn’t need to do this.”
“I was on my way to the store anyway.” I glance over at the other women who are back to scrutinizing our every move. “They always like that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t really fit in with the other moms.”
I can tell by her tone that she thinks this is somehow her fault.
“Christian looks just like you.” I turn to watch the action on the field. What a hot mess. There’s no way to tell who is on offense or defense, it’s just a mass of small bodies running around the ball. “Those your mad soccer skills on display out there too?”
Christian breaks out in front of the pack and kicks the ball toward the net. It doesn’t quite make it, but he’s undeterred and keeps rushing forward, into the goalie box to kick the ball again. He raises his arms in victory and looks to his mom. The smile on her face is proud and she jumps and claps like he just won gold at the Olympics.
“I should go.”
After she’s done cheering, she turns to me. “You really didn’t have to do this. Practice is only an hour long it’s not like they were going to starve,” she says in annoyance and I admire that she’s not bending to fit with the other mom’s expectations.
“Kitty?”
“Hmmm?”
I lean down, my lips brush her ear. “Just say thank you.”
15
Katrina
I’ve got his coffee ready and two cinnamon muffins in a to-go bag when Joel walks up to the café.
“Morning, Kitty.”
I slide the bag and coffee in his direction. “Thank you.”
A smile pulls at his lips. “You’re welcome. How’s our soccer star?”
My heart flutters at the way he says our, but he seems completely unaware that he’s done it and I’m not about to make a big deal out of it. I know he didn’t mean it in the way it sounded, but it feels good to talk about Christian with someone like he belongs to both of us. I’ve gone it alone so much that I’d forgotten how great it is to be part of a team. Having Joel show up for me reminded me that I need to let more people in. Not everyone is going to let me down.
When it comes to parenting the responsibility has always fallen on my shoulders. Victor spends time with Christian, but he doesn’t make decisions and he isn’t here every day. And I’m still frustrated that after his big speech on Sunday, he couldn’t bother to show up to Christian’s soccer practice.
“I’d hold off on Olympic dreams, he spent most of the last half of practice spinning in circles until he got so dizzy, he fell down.” His low chuckle sends goosebumps over my skin. “Anyway, coffee and pastries on the house this morning.”
He nods, the smile never leaving his lips. “You free tomorrow night for another virtual date? Team’s travelling, so I probably won’t be able to talk on the phone during the ride, but thought we could watch a movie and text?”
The way my heart beats against my chest, you’d think he just asked me to fly to Paris. “You already got your one date. Besides, don’t you have to, I don’t know, study plays or mentally prepare or something?” I wave my hands in the air.
“Nah. I usually watch Netflix or sleep. We’re going up tomorrow night, but the game isn’t until Saturday afternoon. Good to see you’re worried about me though, Kitty. I’ll text you at seven. I’ll even let you pick the movie this time.” He knocks on the counter twice with his knuckles and then steps away.
* * *
“Earth to Katrina.” Willa waves in front of my face.
I glance around the table, each member of our critique group stares at me questioningly. “Sorry. I was daydreaming. What was the question?”
“In my story the heroine’s mom is struggling to accept the choices she’s making – moving away from home, her choice of boyfriend, the college she’s picked. We were discussing how this would impact the heroine’s relationship with her mom, her actions, her inner thoughts. It’s such an important time in her life – time to grow up and grab independence by the balls – at least that’s the heroine’s thinking. What do you think?”
I blush, the situation feeling all too familiar and personal.
“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I guess the heroine would pull away, distance herself from her mom.” I bring my pen up to my lips like I’m deep in thought, considering it from the heroine’s point of view. I don’t need to. I’ve lived it. “She’d find herself telling her mom less, not sharing the details of her life in order to avoid fighting with her. I think we are all probably guilty of doing that, right?” I look around nervously but continue when they all look like they’re considering my words carefully. “We know our parents don’t want us drinking all night or skipping classes, but this is the time where we finally get to make those decisions. Plus, we all have to learn things on our own. Every generation repeats the mistakes of our parents not because we don’t know better, but because we need to face the consequences on our own.”
Willa flashes me a big smile. “Yes! I love that. That’s so true,” she says as her fingers fly over the keys of her laptop.
The rest of the group weighs in and we break until next week. With my mom fresh on my mind, I call her while I walk to my next class.
“Hello?” she answers like she doesn’t know it’s me when I know caller ID announced me.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Katrina!” she exclaims. “It’s so good to hear from you.”
“I know. I’m sorry I haven’t called in a couple weeks. Classes and work have been keeping me busy and then of course Christian. Thank you for the cleats you sent him. He’s loving soccer.”
I take a deep breath. When I told my parents I was moving to Valley and going to college just as I’d planned before I’d gotten pregnant, they’d been less than enthusiastic. They’re great and I’m positive that if I’d stayed, they’d have helped me any way they could, but my parents were counting down the days until they could start traveling and do all the things they weren’t able to because they were also teen parents.
My mom was only sixteen when she had my sister and then, surprise, I came along fifteen years later. That’s a lot of years to parent, I get it, I’d be ready for a vacay too.
And part of me had wanted to stay and take all the help I could get, but having Christian so young changed so much, I decided I didn’t want to be like my parents waiting thirty years to do the things I wanted because I had a kid. I want Christian to see me working toward my goals – graduating and eventually being a screenwriter.
“Of course, send me his game schedule when you have it and your dad and I will try and make the trip to see him play.” The reminder that we’re too far away for them to just pop by
unplanned makes me stay silent for too long. “Katrina? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. I’m sorry that we’re not closer. I miss you guys,” I say. “Things are going great for us, though.” Before she can get a word in, I continue. “And Christian is doing great in preschool. We’re doing great, Mom.”
One more great and I’m officially overcompensating. I slow my pace as I get close to my next class.
“Oh, honey.” I hear her sigh. “Of course, you are. Your father and I are so proud of you, but we just worry. I don’t want to see you make things harder on yourself than is necessary. I remember what it was like trying to be young and raise a child and your grandma was only five minutes away. She saved me more times than I can count. I just think you need to let people help you more. You don’t have to always go it alone.”
“I know.” My voice is small. Guilt washes over me and I wonder if I’m being selfish. It’s not the first time I’ve questioned if my actions are what’s best for Christian. Would he be happier if we were closer to family, had Sunday lunches like Joel’s family, and grandparents on the sidelines at his soccer games?
“I know too,” she says with a hint of agitation as if she’s expected my stubbornness but not quite accepted it.
“I’ve got a class. Tell Dad I said hello and Christian and I will video call this weekend so you can chat.”
“Okay. Give him our love.”
I lean against the wall outside of my composition class and let out a long breath.
Me: Okay. Let’s talk tonight about Christian staying with you for the week.
I hear the professor start class and I tuck my phone into my backpack and enter the classroom without waiting for Victor’s reply.
16
Joel
I drop the tray table and prop my iPad on it before texting Katrina.
Me: Ready for our second date?
Kitty: New phone – who is this?
I balk.
Kitty: Kidding. Yes, I’m emailing you the movie now.
I pull up my email and laugh earning a side eye from Wes who sits next to me.
Me: I don’t think Saved by the Bell counts as a movie.
Kitty: Each episode is just over twenty minutes so we can watch a few so it’s the same amount of time. Season five is my favorite, but I think we should start at season three because it has the infamous prom episode I was telling you about.
I angle my iPad toward the window and plug in my headphones. If the guys catch me watching Saved by the Bell, they’re gonna give me all kinds of shit.
Me: Alright, Kitty, I’m pressing play. What’s your fascination with SBTB anyway?
Kitty: I have a sister that is fifteen years older than me. As you can imagine, we didn’t have a lot of things to bond over growing up, but when I got older and wanted to escape my parents, she’d let me come over to her place and we’d have movie nights where she’d introduce me to all her old favorites. The Princess Bride, Titanic, Clueless, Friends, Family Matters, and Saved by the Bell.
Me: That’s cool. Only the one sister?
Kitty: Yep.
We watch three episodes, mostly texting about funny things from the nineties – the hair, clothes, dancing, dear God the dancing. But I learn more about Katrina, too. Like for instance, she’s deep. I guess I should have known this since she’s a writer. Aren’t artists all good with their emotions and feelings and shit? Well anyway, she is. I like hearing what she thinks about things, even stupid things like how Mr. Belding is more of a father figure to Zack than his own dad.
Me: We’re pulling into the hotel.
Kitty: Oh, okay. Well good luck tomorrow.
Me: Trying to get rid of me?
Kitty: I assumed that meant you needed to go.
Me: Nah. Give me fifteen and I’ll call you before we turn in for the night?
Kitty: Sure.
I follow Nathan through the lobby and up to the third floor of the hotel where we’re staying. In the room, we toss our stuff on the beds.
“I’m gonna shower,” I tell him. I’ve got Kitty on the brain and I need a release before bed.
Nathan nods and digs out his cigarettes from his bag. “I’m going for a smoke.”
He leaves the room and I sit on the bed, taking out my phone and iPad. Wes and Z ride Nathan for his smoking habit and excessive partying, but it’s his life. As long as it doesn’t affect his performance or the team, it doesn’t bother me.
I turn Saved by the Bell back on. There are only a couple minutes left in the episode we’d been watching and dammit she’s got me wanting to know how the gang is going to tell Slater he’s a terrible deejay and… fuck my life.
I smile as I watch the cheesy ending and then undress ready to hit the shower before I call Kitty. I pick up my phone and decide to send her a pic while she waits. I don’t send girls dick pics, just my friends when we’re messing around. I admit that’s probably messed up, but whatever. I crop the picture so she can tell I’m naked, but she can’t see the goods and press send.
Before I can take the two steps to the bathroom, I get a text back. I’m grinning before I even pick the phone up anticipating her response. I expect a cheeky reply. Instead, she sends me a pic back and heat courses through my body and shoots to my dick.
She wears black leggings and a white tank top that doesn’t quite cover her stomach and dips down low enough up top that her tits perk up and beg to be noticed. My hand travels to my cock and fists it. I’m so painfully hard.
It’s a pleasant turn to my night. I’d thought I was going to have to use my imagination and the memories of her hot mouth, but now I’ve got new material.
I stroke myself slow, letting my gaze fall on her heart-shaped face and playful smirk. She’s taunting me with those full lips and mesmerizing eyes. Tightening my hold and quickening the pace, I rake over her body imagining what’s beyond the clothes but somehow loving that she’s not naked. I want to undress her myself, piece by piece, exploring new territory and laying claim.
My balls draw up and I’m so close.
“Woah. Fuck. Sorry man.” Nathan’s voice registers slowly only seconds before my release can take hold and I’m equal parts annoyed and pissed.
“I thought you were going for a cigarette,” I grit out, walking into the bathroom and covering myself with a towel.
“Sorry, man, just forgot a lighter.” He’s quiet for a minute and all I can hear is the soft sound of voices coming from my iPad. “Dude, were you jerking it to Saved by the Bell?”
I step out of the bathroom and grab my phone then turn off my iPad. “No. I just left it on.”
“Why were you watching it to start with? Kelly was hot. No judgment.”
“It sounds like fucking judgment.”
He chuckles, grabs a lighter from his bag and heads back to the door. “I will be back in thirty minutes. That enough time?”
Instead of answering, I flip him off, walk in the bathroom, and slam the door behind me.
* * *
Z nods his head in approval and claps his hands as he takes his place at the block and I walk toward the free-throw line. “Nice work. Let’s get that extra point.”
I take my shot and Arizona State calls a time out. We’re destroying them. Up twenty points at the half, in large part to me. Everything I throw up tonight finds net. Some nights are like that. Most aren’t.
I make the shot and the other team calls a timeout. Nathan and I bump fists as we take a seat on the sidelines.
“It’s alright cause I’m saved by the… it’s alright cause I’m saved by the bell,” he sings quietly with a fucking grin.
“Fuck off,” I say, but I’m smiling.
After Coach gives us a weak pep talk about running through the plays and tightening defense – there’s only so much inspiration you can muster when you’re blowing the other team out of the water – I head back out to the court seeing the cameras and announcers and wondering if Katrina is watching. She said she was, but I
don’t know if that was just her feeding my ego.
The idea of her watching may have something to do with my stellar performance. I’m in a zone like I’ve never felt before. I’m always confident and ready to play, but a different sort of calm has settled over me tonight and the only difference I can pinpoint is her which doesn’t really make any sense, but I take my good luck charms very seriously.
Looks like my before game ritual has changed. From now on I need a little dose of Katrina before each game.
* * *
Katrina
“You’re my good luck charm,” Joel says and points a cocky smile at the screen.
He’s wearing headphones and leaning against the bus window. It’s still light out, but just barely, and the soft glow of his phone casts a shadow around him making it hard to see anything else.
“I doubt that very much, but I’m willing to take credit. Is there some sort of payment for my services?” I toss the snark at him before I’ve thought through my words and I can tell by the huge grin that breaks out on his face that I’ve played right into his hand.
“Actually, there is. A date with me. A real one – no phone required. I mean don’t get me wrong I’m loving using my phone for something besides texting and memes, but I think it’s hindering my charm. I’m best appreciated in person.”
I laugh against my better judgment. God, he’s ridiculous.
The Fadeaway: A Smart Jocks Novel Page 10