When Our Worlds Stand Still

by Lindsey Iler

  We nod and she disappears. Graham stops me as I try to leave. With precision, he takes the drawstring from my hand and ties it tight around my waist. His knuckles graze my exposed skin, and I shiver from the tiny contact, swallowing the desire lodged in my throat.

  No words are spoken as his eyes smile down at me, and he disappears out the door. I hear his bare feet fall on the steps as he makes his way down to the kitchen. I wait for a few beats before I follow behind him.

  The kitchen is full of laughter when I walk in.

  “I see you’ve all made good friends with each other,” Graham says over the girls’ giggles. Everyone stops the chatter and turns to where we stand side by side.

  “Nice of you two to join us.” Rick’s voice echoes through the large kitchen. “We’ve spent the entire night talking shit about the both of you, so you know.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Rico.” Graham walks over and pours two glasses of orange juice. He gestures to the center island where two empty stools sit.

  “So, what’s the plans for today?” I ask. I follow his silent instructions and sit down beside him, taking a long sip of the juice.

  I don’t know her name, but the blonde in the corner points to the large windows. “Ice skating?” She practically bounces through the ceiling at her idea. “We have an awesome outdoor rink. I’ve been trying to convince Griffin to take me since freshman year, and this will probably be the last cold weekend.”

  “Babe, you have horrible balance.” Griffin pulls her onto his lap and kisses her cheek.

  She smacks him on the chest and squeals with anger. “I do not.”

  “You fell down the stairs at the library the other day,” Rick adds, a laugh on the tip of his tongue.

  Griffin reaches back and swats at him to defend his girlfriend. A small, but sweet gesture.

  “I was at the good part of my book, and I was clearly distracted. I’m not going to be reading while I ice skate,” she defends herself.

  “Been there,” I whisper.

  “See, she understands.” She points to me. “I’m Sandy, by the way. We didn’t get a chance to meet properly last night.” Her hand reaches out to shake mine.

  “It’s nice … to meet you.” My reluctance evident, I shake her hand anyway. I’m still not sure who she is to Graham, but by the weird exchange between the two of them last night, it’s safe to assume she’s someone to him.

  She nods in answer, a friendly smile offered to me. When she turns to Griffin, her eyes grow dark. “So, is it a yes?”

  “If everyone else is down, I’m willing to hold you up as I skate around a chunk of freezing cold ice,” Griffin jokes, squeezing her arm in a playful way.

  Rick stands over the stove, flipping an omelet onto a plate. His skill set is impressive, shocking me when he slides the plate down the island and it lands with grace in front of me. I stare down at the full plate and cut into the warm egg mixture. With a fork full, I take a large bite and moan.

  “My food isn’t the only thing that makes girls moan, Kennedy,” he suggests. Rick wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  “Not okay, man,” he warns. Graham crosses his arms in front of his chest.

  “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” I state, matter of fact. “What’s in this?”

  I gesture to Violet to come take a bite. She stands from the table and accepts the forkful of food. Her eyes roll in the back of her head and she nods in satisfaction to Dan.

  “Sausage, Havarti cheese, onions, and ham.” Rick slides another plate down the island.

  Graham catches it before the plate finds the end of the marble countertop. He dips his fork into the fluffy mound in front of him, and his satisfied groan resembles my own. His satisfaction over a simple omelet makes me giggle.

  “How is it possible you all aren’t fat when Rick’s cooking tastes this good?” Every guy in the room has trim waists and impeccable arms.

  “I only cook for pretty girls.” The cook strides over and wraps his arm around my shoulders.

  “Hey, I’m here all the time, and you’ve never cooked for me,” Sandy argues, hurt evident in her voice.

  “Again, not okay.” Graham slams his fist into the countertop. Our glasses and plates clink together. I clutch my own to give them stability.

  I laugh at the outburst. Graham twirls to face me with a smile on his face, then in a snap of a finger, his eyes darken as he looks to Rick.

  “I like you being here, Kennedy. He’s passionate, and this kid,” Rick leans over and squeezes Graham’s cheeks between his fingers, and shakes his head dramatically from side to side, “isn’t passionate about anything.”

  Graham jerks away from him. “Anything that you know about, Rick. Heaven forbid someone’s passionate about anything other than booze and pussy.” The way Graham spits out Rick’s given name makes me believe he only likes to be called Rico by his friends.

  “My two favorite food groups,” Rick retorts, turning away to make several more plates full of food. Violet takes the one offered and finds comfort on Dan’s lap to share her food with him.

  I stand from my stool and circle the island. “Thank you, Rick.” I wrap him in a hug. I glance back and give Graham a wink. “I’m going to go shower.”

  The second I walk out of the kitchen, I hear the guys giving Graham a hard time. It’s clear he’s been telling the truth about his non-existent love life here on UConn’s campus.

  “Please, tell me you’re going to go up there with her. And what’s with her calling me Rick? No one calls me Rick.” Rick’s voice echoes down the hallway.

  My feet hit the steps when I hear Amanda’s voice. “Knowing Kennedy, she has a reason. Now, where the hell is my breakfast, Rico?”

  I knock on my bedroom door, but don’t get a response. Shuffling from foot to foot, I kick the doorframe a few times. My internal debate doesn’t last long. The room is empty, but her bra and shirt are draped over the end of my bed. A sigh of relief releases at the sight of her belongings mixed in with mine.

  My leg bounces as I wait for her to come out of the bathroom. A faint melody spins around the room and Kennedy’s soft voice sings along. I run my hands over my head and down my neck, trying to release the stress building under my muscles since she arrived.

  I drop back on the mattress, bathed in the smell of her vanilla body wash wafting from the bathroom. The fear of the unknown blankets me. When I hear the distinct creak of the hinges, my eyes close tight. Hot steam infiltrates the space around me, and dew forms on my exposed arms.

  “What are you doing, Graham?” The spot beside me dips under her weight.

  “Thinking,” I answer.

  “Overthinking, you mean?”

  “How can I not?” My eyes spring open, but I stare at the ceiling.

  Kennedy leans back until she hits the mattress next to me. She’s wrapped in a towel, her hands fisted tightly in the fabric.

  “You’re thinking me being here is beyond confusing, and perhaps, it may be our destruction because neither of us is ready for what this means.” Kennedy squirms until her head is on my shoulder. I nod in answer to her unasked question. “But perhaps what you’re missing is, life doesn’t care if we aren’t ready, and maybe, we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

  “What are you saying?” Thick desperation bleeds through my mumbled words.

  She drops the sweetest kiss on my jaw. “Time doesn’t hold us in its regard, Graham. Life keeps moving on without us, and it’s our responsibility to catch up. So let’s run until we do, but you’ve got to stop overthinking it. You’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Let’s see where we go, okay? No mess, no fuss. We simply exist in each other’s worlds once again. You say you’ve been here all along. Well, now, let me be present alongside you, and watch where we turn up.”

  “No promises? No labels?”

  “There’s no need for them. We know what we are.”

  I
stand and reach down to pull her up. She heads to the bathroom, and I slap her ass. “Go get dressed.”

  The camaraderie between us is natural. It’s hard not to fall into old habits, which is why I’m not surprised to feel like we’re back in her bedroom, our junior year of high school.

  A playful smile tickles her lips when she peers over her shoulder. “Don’t be bossy.”

  A blow-dryer sparks to life for five short minutes, compared to most girls. By the time I’ve pulled on a pair of jeans and rummaged through my closet for a shirt, the door bangs against the wall with a loud crack. Kennedy walks out, balancing an unzipped suitcase in her hands. Clothes poke through every crevice as she throws it on the bed.

  “Think you brought enough?”

  Her eyes move to my chest and don’t waver. Desire written across her irises makes my pulse speed up. I grind my teeth and fight the urge to cross the room and wrap her in my arms. Neither of us is ready for what being together again will stir up. It’s safer if we keep our hands to ourselves as much as possible. Kennedy’s already crossed the line by dipping her tiny fingers in my waistband last night. If I hadn’t thought about my grandmother to keep myself in check, I would still be awake and fighting wood. I slip a black thermal over my head.

  “You could’ve gone ice skating shirtless, you know?” Kennedy gnaws on the corner of her lip.

  “You’d like that too much, and I’m not in the business of giving you everything you want. Yet.” Of course, I will never deprive myself of her, but now isn’t the time to go all caveman and throw her ass onto my bed.

  “Yet, huh?” Kennedy turns to zip up her pink suitcase, which coincidentally matches her cheeks. She tugs and pushes with no give.

  I press down on the top of it, and it closes with ease. “See you downstairs.”

  Everyone is in the living room. Four different conversations come to an immediate stop when they notice my presence. Whether the high school version or the new, more private Graham, each person in this room has impacted my life in some way. I wouldn’t be where I am now without them.

  Dan stands from the chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he lurks toward me. “You okay?” His eyebrow raises with curiosity.

  My hip brushes the banister. “It’s weird, having you all here after all this time.”

  He laughs and shrugs as he goes to stand behind Violet’s chair. His silence doesn’t help my nerves. I follow him into the living room and sit down on the coffee table in front of where Violet sits, listening to the rest of their conversation.

  “What? No words of wisdom?” Right about now would be the perfect time to get one of his classic pep talks.

  Dan scoffs. His eyes squint together at my lack of confidence. “You don’t need any clichés tossed at you. Everything I have to say to you, you’ve already told yourself over the last year.”

  “Seriously? That’s it?” I throw my hands in the air, glaring at Violet and Dan.

  Violet sits forward in her chair. Her elbows rest on her knees. “This is your last chance, your Hail Mary, your final pitch. Now, don’t fuck it up completely.”

  My eyes roll. “Don’t ever become a motivational speaker, Vi.”

  “Don’t. Fuck. This. Up.” She stands, grinning like a fool.

  “I’ll try not to,” I whisper.

  “Try not to, what?” Kennedy’s voice brings me to attention. Her eyes glow with a dusting of make-up. Sometimes I wonder why she bothers. She doesn’t need all of the eyeshadows and mascara to look beautiful.

  “Nothing.” I rub my eyebrow. There’s an unease in my smile. “You ready to go?”

  “If everyone else is,” she answers, scanning the room.

  Mark’s hand is tucked around Beatrice. “We’re going to hang back, but you guys have a good time.”

  No one argues. They’ve made it clear they want to soak up each other before she heads back to the city with the girls. I can’t blame Mark. If it were up to me, Kennedy and I would ditch every single one of them, but instead, we pile into two separate cars and head to the rink.

  *****

  The line for skates dwindles down to nearly nothing. A forced smile and a head nod to the lady I almost knocked over while staring at Kennedy, has Griffin in stitches.

  A hand pats the underside of my chin. “Put your tongue back in your mouth.” I follow his eyes as they shift over to where Kennedy sits with Sandy.

  With much force, I shift my attention to the counter. “What’s up, man?”

  “Who is she to you?” he asks.

  I don’t look beside me. Instead, I search for her. Her gaze dances around the ice, surveying the kids as they giggle and play. She smiles at their excitement as if it is contagious, her spirits lifting along with theirs.

  “It’s a long story.” I step forward and give the attendant mine and Kennedy’s skate size. When he hands them over, I tuck them under my arm and turn to Griffin.

  “I’ll take the short version.”

  This motherfucker’s going to make me say it. I twist and Kennedy catches my gaze. She stands, waving a few sweet fingers in my direction. I turn back to Griffin and shrug. “She’s everything to me.”

  Griffin’s hands shoot up in defense. “We all like to put on a tough guy act, but I’d do anything for that girl.” He points to Sandy. She laughs at something Kennedy says, and the two of them wave to a little boy peeking over the barrier between the grass and ice.

  “She’s here, and I’m not exactly sure what to do now,” I confess. I offer Griffin a half-ass smile and head toward Kennedy.

  After we lace our skates, her grip on my hand tightens as she slips across the ice for the first time.

  “Have you ever skated before?” With zero effort, I twist around to skate backward. Kennedy’s hands quake in mine as I help keep her balance. The frustration with my skill is set in her tight lips.

  “In Tennessee?” She peers down at her feet the entire time. Her knees clench together, stopping her from falling to the cold, hard surface. I laugh when she finally gains the courage to glance up at me. Kennedy shrugs. “I spent my entire childhood in a dance studio.”

  “You’d think you’d have better balance then.”

  Between my fits of laughter, I let go of Kennedy’s hands. Her presence disappears as she falls to the ice with more grace than I would give her credit for.

  “Ouch,” she cries, pouting up at me. Her eyes sink with defeat.

  I buckle my lips together and fight back the laughter begging to creep up my throat. “I’m so sorry.” I reach out my hand to help her up. Her hand wraps around my forearm, and she jerks backward. I’m staring at the clear, blue sky.

  “That’s what you get for laughing at me.” Her laughter echoes around the rink.

  The cold ice burns through our pants, but neither of us moves to stand.

  “Can we have a real talk? We’ve been avoiding the topic, and I suppose a part of me just really needs to know how you’re doing.” There’s no need to specify what I mean. Her eyes darken and her shoulder slouch.

  “I’m not going to lie to you. None of it’s easy. The whole process of moving on from it all is terrifying,” she admits, picking at the chipped polish on her fingernails.

  I can’t allow her to be alone in the pain. On the other hand, I’m not sure I want to hear about it either. “What’s the hardest part?” I ask. Reluctance lodges in my throat, strangling the words on their way out.

  Kennedy takes a deep breath. “It’s hard to close my eyes some nights. When I do, it’s like a barrage of images pop into my head. Almost like my body knows I’m beginning to relax, and it needs to remind me of all the pain to keep me on my toes.” She shrugs, brushing her experience off. “It got really bad, so bad that Jackie made a house call a few months ago.”

  “She came all the way from Tennessee?” Jackie and Kennedy have a strong bond, but I’m surprised she traveled so far for a patient.

  “I scared the crap out of Amanda and Violet, and they ended up call
ing my parents. I had to fight to stay in the city. They were ready to drag me back to that place. I can’t … I can’t go back there.” Her voice breaks in the middle of the sentence.

  Tears travel down her pink cheeks. Instead of brushing them away, I allow them to fall, wrapping her trembling hands in mine where they’re safe. “It’s been pretty bad, huh?”

  She ignores my question. “Do you remember my testimony?”

  “How could I ever forget?”

  “Kennedy, can you please explain to the jury your relationship with Craig?” The prosecutor waves his hand to where Craig sits next to his smug lawyer.

  When her eyes fall over him, Kennedy’s throat bobs up and down as she swallows hard. His cold stare burns into her, and she’s quick to avert her eyes elsewhere, anywhere but where he sits.

  “We went on a date a few times, and hung out casually,” she answers.

  The prosecutor flashes her a sad smile. “Kennedy, please refer to him by name, to make it clear to the jury.”

  “Craig,” Kennedy’s voice shakes with emotion, “and I went on a few dates. At a party one night, I drank a little too much.” She glances at her parents, face red with embarrassment, and back to the suit in front of her. “Before I knew it, Craig led me up to his bedroom. I was fine with what was happening, until the point I wasn’t anymore. It didn’t take long to realize we weren’t on the same page.”

  “Then what happened?” He urges on her story.

  “We were kissing, and when it became clear he wanted to go further, I tried to stop him, but nothing I did even slowed him down.”

  “But that wasn’t the night he …” There’s a long pregnant pause. “Kennedy, that wasn’t the night he raped you, correct?” Rape falls from his tongue like a hammer, directly slamming into my gut. Kennedy flinches.

  She clears her throat to gain composure. “No, it wasn’t the night he raped me.”

  “What happened that first night when you resisted?”

  Her gaze falls to the bench where I sit with her parents, listening to her nightmare. Behind us are Violet and Dan. “Graham was outside the door, waiting in case I needed him, I suppose, but I thank God every day he was. He saved me. After that night, Craig made it his mission to make me uncomfortable, and cornered me whenever he saw the opportunity.”