by Bri Izzo
Fuck my mom for caring more about her perfect hair and her wine than her own daughter.
Fuck Chase Morgan for everything he did to me or Skyler ever. He has no right to hit Skyler in the face, and he has no right to lead me on like we were something more than friends.
And fuck perfection! I didn’t plan on having a perfect season; I’m a freshman on varsity! I didn’t even expect to play, much less be perfect! But once I established my position with the team, it was expected that I was the flawless relief pitcher. When I was put in the starting position, I shouldn’t have predicted continual perfection. Just when anyone puts pressure on themselves to be perfect, the perfection is over. Because perfection doesn’t exist. Everyone has flaws and mistakes and shit; even if someone can be perfect for a while, it doesn’t last forever.
I just need an internal pep talk before I blame everything on myself and completely break down. It happens anyways though. The pep talk is in my head while my tears pour on the outside. I haven’t cried in what feels like forever; it’s just never anything I feel like is worth doing. Last time I remember crying was when I was tipsy in my kitchen with Tiff, Chase, and Parker and Skyler brought Makenna to the cabin. That moment and this current one feel justified enough to let my emotions explode through tears.
Then a knock sounds on my bedroom door, and I snap my head up. Looking around my room first, I wipe the tears off my cheeks and take a deep breath to get rid of my self-pitying thoughts.
“Oh… hey,” I greet Skyler out of surprise. He’s not who I expected to be on the other side of that door, not that I’m really expecting anyone. He’s standing in the dark hallway in his disheveled uniform like he has just finished playing the state championship. “What’s up?” I sniffle and hope he doesn’t think it’s anything more than allergies.
“I was bringing your water bottle that you left in my Jeep, and I thought you might need some more bandages for your arm, and then I heard you crying up here,” he babbles. Although his words don’t make much sense together, I can read his eyes perfectly: he’s worried about me. The scrape on his face is starting to clot so the blood isn’t dripping down anymore, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice it.
“Oh… I’m fine. Just an emotional day,” I try to brush it off. But he knows me better than that. He’s always known me better than anyone else.
“That’s not like you,” he points out. “What else happened today?”
“It really doesn’t make sense to me why Chase would punch you when he… when he-” I try to reason it out loud, but I can’t. I was going to tell Skyler that Chase broke up with me… but he didn’t. Because we were never really together so that he could break up with me. He played me just like Skyler said he would months ago.
“When he what? What did he do?” Sky fumes. I’m kind of afraid to tell him what Chase did because I’m worried that Skyler might kill him, like actually kill him, and then go to jail.
“We’re just not talking anymore,” I reroute the conversation. No need for anyone to get arrested.
“Why? Because he hooked up with Allie?” he asks me.
My breath catches, and I feel like a fish who took the bait and is being dragged around by a sharp hook that digs deeper and deeper into me while being smashed into rocks that I can’t avoid. Allie is one of the most popular cheerleaders at school. She may only be a sophomore, but everyone at school knows her or knows about her. But it doesn’t matter that she’s a slut; I’m not mad at her. I’m mad at myself for believing that Chase was a decent guy. After hearing he was with Jackie and Allie while I thought he was supposedly with me, I want to throw up.
“Buzz?” Skyler questions my coherence when I don’t respond to him.
“He… are you… Allie, too?” I stutter as I push past him and run down the hallway towards the bathroom. I lift the toilet seat and throw up mostly orange Gatorade for a solid two minutes. All I think about is everything sweet that Chase has ever said to me. He told me he loved me once when he was drunk and called me in the middle of the night, and I told him not to say it unless he meant it. He said it again, and I knew he was lying, but I believed him anyways even though I never said it back. It makes it hurt so much more, to be so fooled into thinking something that I know is a blatant lie.
“Buzz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Skyler starts apologizing but is interrupted from someone in the hallway.
“Bulimia looks good on you, Bianca,” my mom snickers, pointing her index finger at me.
I roll my eyes as I feel more gurgling in my stomach. My mom continues on her way to her bedroom, and Skyler jumps up to follow her before I grab his wrist to pull him back.
“Please stay with me,” I beg. There’s nothing worse than puking alone. As a child, when I was sick I did it numerous times. Sometimes Rex or Baylee or my dad would wake up and come hold my hair back, but other times I had to tie it back in between puking sprees. Then I would sleep on the floor next to the toilet in case I needed to puke more during the night.
“I won’t let her fucking say that to you,” Skyler argues, his eyes expressing his severe anger towards her. I could tell at the game he was just as irritated that she didn’t show up for it, but him yelling at her will do nothing to improve my situation.
“Then yell at her later,” I suggest. I squeeze his wrist as I throw up again, my stomach tightening and causing me to choke. I breathe heavily over the toilet as I pray for it to be over. Skyler breaks away from my hold to open up the vanity cabinet and offer me mouthwash.
After taking it and swishing it around in my mouth, I say, “You knew.” I don’t ask him. I tell him as I stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It’s somehow easier than looking directly into his eyes.
“Buzz, yes. I knew, but-” he begins, but I don’t let him finish.
“You knew, and you didn’t tell me,” I state, twirling around to face him. He looks like he might take a turn throwing up, but I ignore it.
“I’m sorry,” he declares, trying to reach for my hand.
Stepping back from him, I shout, “No! You knew he actually did something to hurt me! How could you not tell me?”
“I only found out two days ago, and I was not about to let it throw off your game. And I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says the last part softly. His eyes are lighter than usual, like they’re expressing his true guilt and sorrow. It sucks to be mad at him when he looks at me like this.
“Well you did,” I tell him. “Once a coach, always a coach, I guess, huh? And I knew before the game; that’s why I played so fucking terrible.”
As I brush past him to surrender to my bedroom again, he pleads, “Damn it, B, don’t do this. I’m sorry!”
Tonight I’m going to sit in my room and cry. My phone is constantly buzzing with notifications all night, but I ignore everyone. I just want one night to myself to let everything off my chest so that I can move on from it all. I promise myself I won’t cry about the same things ever again, so one night will suffice in letting it go.
I cry myself to sleep, and when I wake up early the next morning I examine my notifications from the day before. Text messages from Cara, Laurie, and Tiffany are cheerful at first, but when they didn’t get any responses, their words grow concerned. Later in the night I receive a message from Benny congratulating me on a fantastic game and expressing his concern for me, that he heard what happened. I’m surprised that Skyler hasn’t texted me, until I open my bedroom door to go to the bathroom and see him looking as uncomfortable as hell all curled up in my entryway. Obviously he stayed the night here without me knowing, and I don’t know what to think. He’s clearly worried about me, but he should’ve thought about that before he kept that crucial information to himself. It is cute that he slept here and guarded my door so I wouldn’t leave and do something crazy though.
For the rest of the weekend I stay in my room and sulk. It’s not my idea of a good time, but socializing sounds worse. I prefer to wallow in my own self-pity rather than anyone el
se’s. Skyler knocks on my door before he leaves and tells me through the door if I need anything to call him, and while I take his offer to heart, I know I won’t take him up on it. There’s nothing he or anyone else can do. I just need to get over it all, and I need to do it alone. I guess I need more than one night to move on.
There’s two weeks left of the semester, so I drown myself in pretending to study for finals and softball practice. At least with pretending to study I can be alone and avoid the pathetic looks I receive at practice from Cara, Laurie, and Skyler. I refuse to talk to any of them about what happened between Chase and me. Luckily Skyler is rarely at practice anymore because the baseball team’s practices start the week before finals. Rex is proud of me for taking my studies so seriously, but he’s not smart enough to realize that it’s just a coverup, unlike him who actually aces every final.
The very last day of the semester I’m scheduled to take two finals in English and biology, but McCallum talks to our teachers to move them earlier in the week because we have our first playoff game that Friday. I’m certain that Skyler must have an exam that day, too, and won’t be able to reschedule it, but I’m dead wrong. And I’m so frustrated that I have to sit on a bus for two hours while we head to the University of Illinois in Champaign and pretend that Skyler isn’t sitting at the front of it with all of my coaches.
I put in my headphones to listen to my iPod of old country classics so I can drown out any conversations going on around me. All I want to do is focus on softball.
20 Skyler Swanson
We lose the second game of the weekend, therefore not moving onto the state championship like everyone in Hinsdale thought we would. It’s no one’s fault; well, scratch that. It’s a split between mine and Chase’s fucking faults. I’m not saying Buzz should have to carry the team, but she’s easily our best pitcher; she just had no backup on the field. Jackie fumbled almost every ball that went her way, and everyone knows why: she fucking hooked up with the guy that her best pitcher was hanging out with for a year and then talked about it to their senior captain for her to hear. Laurie also wasn’t completely focused, so basically our whole team was a fucking girly, drama-filled mess except for Buzz who acted like nothing in the world bothered her. But I know differently. Her bottling up all of her feelings has the same affect on the game as everyone else being openly emotional.
When we come home from Champaign, the next day is my birthday so I throw my annual kick off to summer bash. I’m not really feeling like a party, but the guys insist since it’s a tradition. I sit outside by the bonfire all night and only talk to the people who come and go from the seats around it.
“What’s with you?” Alex asks me around midnight when the party starts to dissipate. He’s probably the last person I want to be talking to right now.
“Nothing,” I answer coldly. He won’t care why I’m upset unless it’s something that doesn’t have to do with his sister, which it does.
“I can’t believe the girls lost. They looked unstoppable at that last home game,” he rattles off his mouth without knowing why I’m on edge.
“They weren’t focused,” I briefly explain. He’s so oblivious to his sister and her feelings, that there’s no way he knows anything about what is going on with her team. Nor does he care.
“Isn’t it your job to get them to focus?” he half-laughs. For a smart kid he’s really stupid.
“Isn’t it your job to protect your sister from guys like Chase Morgan?” I shout, standing up from my seat and screeching it across the patio. I’m furious at him for ignoring the fact that Buzz is hiding out from everyone and everything. She didn’t even show up to my party when she would actually have known people and everyone likes her.
“I thought you wanted that role,” he yells back, standing so we’re on equal ground.
“Your stupid ass wouldn’t let me, so now thanks to you she’s hurt and fucking mad at me, and there’s nothing either of us can do,” I ramble.
“Go after her if that’s what you want. But if you hurt her I will hurt you, too,” Alex empty-threatens me as he attempts to walk away.
“No you won’t! You’re a fucking coward, and you don’t give two shits about if anyone hurts her. The night after that last home game where were you when she got home, huh?” I begin, knowing I’m going to expose Buzz and she’ll probably be even more mad. But I’m tired of Alex not caring about her and thinking I’m not good enough for her. “Were you there when she was crying alone in her room? Or when she started throwing up because of all the shitty things that were happening behind her back for the past year? Or when your mom accused her of being fucking bulimic? No, you weren’t there. And you know how I know? Because I was. You’re as bad as your mom saying that you care about her and doing nothing when she actually fucking needs someone.”
After that fucking speech, I grab the keys to my Jeep and storm through my house. I don’t even look back at Alex for a half of a second. He doesn’t deserve it. Close behind me on the driveway is Benny, who grabs my shoulder and calls after me, “Skyler, what are you doing?”
“I’m leaving. I can’t be in this fucking town anymore. I’m going to the cabin,” I inform him, shaking him off and continuing to unlock my Jeep. A second later he’s in the passenger seat as I pull out of my driveway. “I’m seriously going, so don’t try to stop me.”
“I’m not stopping you. I’m coming with you,” he calmly explains.
We’re silent for the entire two hour drive up to our cabin. Benny is terrified of me blowing up in the car, so he won’t say anything until we’re at our destination. Even though it’s around 2:00 a.m. we don’t go to sleep immediately when we arrive. As I pace around the kitchen making myself a sandwich, Benny sits at the counter waiting for the green light to speak to me. We literally just up and left my own birthday party to drive to another state. I can’t wait for the repercussions from this.
“What have you heard?” I wonder agitatedly, throwing two pieces of bread onto the countertop.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking about,” he timidly answers, but I know he isn’t bullshitting me. I could be talking about a million different things. Hell, I don’t even know exactly what I’m fucking asking about.
“Anything from Alex? Anything about Buzz, or Chase, or me,” I rattle off. “Anything.”
“I heard you were right about Chase,” he states, sitting up straighter. “I wish you would’ve been wrong for Bianca’s sake.”
“Yeah, me, too,” I agree surprisingly. I know Chase is a douchefuck and I hate that she liked him, but I was still hoping he wouldn’t pull anything on her. “There were at least two other girls. And then the fucking jackass had the nerve to punch me in the face like I did her wrong. I should’ve done something to stop it from happening, even if she ended up hating me.”
“No. She would’ve hated you and still hung out with him,” he debates. He’s totally right.
“That’s basically what happened anyways,” I mutter, slabbing the turkey and cheese onto the bread.
“She never hated you,” he disagrees. For the first time, I think ever, Benny looks genuinely concerned about me. I think he thought I was going to drive off a cliff or something when I left my house, although I’m pretty sure there are no cliffs in Illinois or Wisconsin.
“I didn’t know how to tell her, and I didn’t want to be the one to hurt her. I didn’t want to fuck up her head for the last home game,” I explain. Taking a bite of my horrible sandwich, I barely gain enough courage to swallow it. I knew Chase was going to fucking hurt her, and I let it happen. It makes me sick.
“You’re so good with her,” he blurts out. “On and off the field.”
“You say it like she’s a fucking dog,” I snarl. I slam the silverware drawer shut to release some frustration. It doesn’t fucking work. Instead, I take a deep breath as I press my hands into the counter, putting stress on my shoulders.
“What’s going on?” he nervously asks. I’m not an outwardly em
otional guy, so I can’t really blame Benny for being a little scared of me at the moment. If I don’t try really fucking hard to contain myself, I’m going to do something crazy. I have bottled everything up for so long and am about to blow if something doesn’t fucking stop me.
“This all happened because you guys wouldn’t let us be together. She got hurt because I wasn’t allowed to protect her. I just wanted her to be happy, and she was happy with me when we weren’t around you guys because she didn’t have to worry about what you were going to say. It’s all so fucked up, and now she’s mad at me, and I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I ramble. “But for now, I’m going to bed.”
“Are you okay? I’m not going to wake up with you gone or dead?” Benny hopes.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll be here… alive,” I add.
The next morning I’m woken up by the sound of girls’ laughter and high voices from the level below me. Benny and I slept in my bedroom upstairs, but the girls are loud. This is a nice house and the vents carry voices too well. I realize I have no idea which girls just arrived. Please be Buzz. But how would she have gotten here?
I spring up out of my bed, alarming Benny to do the same and follow me downstairs. Running into the kitchen, I stop abruptly when I see Buzz, Cara, and Laurie already in bikinis and grabbing drinks from the fridge. They freeze when they see me standing shirtless in the entryway.
“Sky…” Buzz acknowledges me, crossing her arm over her bare stomach like she’s uncomfortable being in a swimsuit in front of me. I guess it has been a while since I’ve seen her in one, and we aren’t on the best of terms, but I still don’t like fucking seeing her timid around me.
“Buzz,” I return the cordial greeting. This is kind of awkward. Why did I want it to be her again?
“What are you doing here?” she stammers. She doesn’t look mad to see me, but she also doesn’t look happy. Damn it, I really wish I could read her expression better.