by Garza, Amber
He furrowed his brow. “Sure you don’t want to change into short sleeves?”
“Nope.” I rushed inside and put on my shoes. When I returned we jogged together over to his front yard, and stood in his driveway beneath the hoop.
“Okay,” Isaac said, “the first thing I need to teach you is how to shoot a basket.”
This should be interesting.
“Here. Watch me.” Isaac held the ball between both hands, bent his knees, aimed for the hoop and shot the ball upward. It hit the backboard and bounced down. He caught it before it hit the ground. “Well, maybe not exactly like that.”
I giggled. It didn’t look too tough.
“Now, you try.” He lobbed the ball to me and I caught it.
Facing the hoop I held the ball at my fingertips the way I’d seen him do, bent my knees and threw the ball skyward. It rocketed into the air and fell straight down landing by my feet. My face warmed with embarrassment, sweat formed under my arms. This was not going well.
“That was a good try,” Isaac said. “Okay, this time I’ll help you.”
He handed me the ball and came to stand behind me. His hands gripped me at my waist and my pulse quickened. I could smell his deodorant, his minty breath. Reaching up he positioned my arms and then let his hands rest on my waist again. Gently he pushed me down so my knees bent lower.
“Okay, you’re aimed correctly. Now push up with your legs and throw it in.”
This time the ball came a little closer to the hoop but still missed. I grunted.
“It’s no use. I can’t do it.”
“It’s only your second try. You can’t give up now. You’re doing great.”
“Is this how your dad taught you to play?” I asked.
A cloud passed over his eyes. “No. My dad didn’t teach me how to play ball.”
“Really? “ This surprised me. His dad seemed like the kind of man who would spend hours playing ball with his son. “Then who did?”
“My brother.”
“Your brother? I thought you were an only child.”
“I am now. My brother died.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Was he sick?”
He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair. “He drowned.”
A vision of a little boy floating in a pool filled my mind causing me to shudder.
“That’s terrible.”
“Yeah, it was. It almost destroyed my family. We weren’t always Christians, you know. It wasn’t until after my brother died that we found God. And we’re lucky we did. He really pulled our family together.”
“Was he older or younger?”
“Older.”
“He loved basketball. I think that’s why I like it so much. I feel closer to him when I’m on the court.”
“I can understand that.” I thought about how the smell of hair dye always made me think of Mom and how I felt totally at home in a beauty salon.
A thought struck me. When I went to the Giovanni’s for dinner there were pictures of Isaac everywhere, but I didn’t see pictures of other kids. “How come there are no pictures of your brother in your home?”
“It’s too painful for my parents to see pictures of him.”
“So, this happened fairly recently?”
“No, it’s been many years. I guess the pain of losing your child never goes away.”
I nodded. “I don’t know what to say. It’s just so awful.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just being here playing basketball is enough.”
“Well, if this was your way of selling me on the game you’ve done a great job.” I winked. “Okay, give me the ball. I’ll try again.”
After several more tries I finally got the ball in the hoop. It didn’t swish in like I wanted. It bounced off the backboard, circled the rim and then finally fell in but I was still ecstatic. Isaac hooted and hollered and gave me a high-five. We played for about an hour and then my arms were tired and I was drenched in sweat.
Fanning myself with my hand I said, “Man, I don’t think there’s been any breeze today.”
“No, it’s supposed to be in the triple digits.”
“It feels like it.”
“Let’s take a rest. I’ll go grab us some waters.” He ran into the house and returned a moment later, bottled waters in hand. I plopped down on the ground, stretching my legs. Unscrewing the cap, I lifted the bottle to my lips and gulped in the cool liquid.
“Thanks,” I said. “This was fun.”
Isaac sat next to me. “Yeah, it was for me too.”
“Anytime you want to play again, just let me know.”
“I will. Hey, do you wanna go with me to this event my youth group is having tomorrow night?”
Church wasn’t my thing. “What kind of event?”
“We’re going miniature golfing.”
“Ah, so it’s not actually at your church.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s at Scandia.”
I contemplated his offer. On the one hand, I would love to spend time with Isaac. On the other, I didn’t want to hang out with a bunch of goodie-two-shoes who would look down their nose at me.
“I’d love it if you’d go with me,” he said.
Sold.
“So, how do you know Isaac?” A tall, leggy girl with platinum blonde hair approached me. Isaac was at the counter getting our clubs and balls. I had been doing my best to avoid eye contact with everyone around me but apparently this girl couldn’t take a hint.
“I’m staying next door for the summer.” I extended my hand in an effort to be polite. “I’m Mackenzie.”
“Brooke,” she said without shaking my hand.
Embarrassed, I dropped my arm. I guess not all Christian girls were friendly.
“Here you are.” Isaac swept in, the overpowering scent of too much cologne washed over me. Our fingers brushed as he handed me my golf club. “Ah, I see you’ve met Brooke.” I detected wariness in his voice.
Brooke flashed a gleaming white smile at him. “Yes. Well, it was nice to meet McKenna,” she said.
I didn’t bother correcting her. It was obvious she purposely said my name incorrectly.
“Catch up with you guys later.” She sauntered off, swaying her hips a little too aggressively.
I glanced over at Isaac to see if he noticed but his eyes were trained on me. Once she was out of sight my shoulders relaxed.
“So, are you ready for me to completely kick your butt in miniature golf?” I asked.
Isaac chuckled. “You obviously haven’t seen me play before. I’ve got mad skills in mini golf.”
“Oh, you think so, huh?” I snatched one of the golf balls out of his hand and stalked over to the first hole. “Just wait.” I lined the ball up and squared my shoulders over it. Holding the club between my hands I gently brought it back and then hit the ball. It careened down, picked up speed and ended up curving to the right and slamming into the wall near the hole. It bounced off and rolled slowly back toward the hole only to stop inches from it.
“Not bad, not bad. Now move over and see how it’s done.” Isaac playful nudged me with his hip. His ball ended up doing almost exactly what mine had done but actually went in.
“Oh, now it’s on,” I said as I headed over to my ball to tap it in.
Isaac jotted down the score while we walked over to the next hole. Behind us I could hear girls giggling and peered back to see that Brooke and her friends were behind us. When she caught me looking she narrowed her eyes. Ignoring her, I turned back around.
“Still think you’re gonna beat me?” Isaac asked, his eyes dancing in the moonlight.
“Are you kidding? That last hole was just a warm up. You aint seen nothing yet.”
The rest of the evening we bantered and teased but in the end Isaac ended up beating me by ten strokes. I finally admitted to him that I’d only played miniature golf a couple of times in my life and the last time had been several years earlier.
“Really? The way you were trash talking I thought you played all the time.”
“Nah. I was just teasing you.”
He smiled, put his hand on my arm. My skin broke out in goosebumps.
“Well, then you’re a natural.”
Feeling bold I said, “You’ll just have to take me more often so I can get better.”
His hand still on my arm he said, “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
Just then a group of students descended on us. It looked like the rest of the youth group had finished as well. After everyone decided to go inside for some pizza, Isaac and I followed them in. I was a little disappointed as we sat down amidst the group. The time alone with Isaac was so enjoyable that I hated to have to share him now. When he left the table to order, an attractive girl with dark hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks scooted into the booth next to me.
“Hi. I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Stephanie.” She stuck out a hand and her smile was genuine, unlike Brooke’s.
“I’m Mackenzie, but you can just call me Kenzie for short.”
“Nice to meet you, Kenzie. Are you new here?”
“Sort of. I’m just staying with my grandma for the summer. Isaac lives next door. He invited me tonight.”
“Oh, that’s great. Well, I’m glad you came.”
“One pepperoni pizza coming up,” Isaac said when he returned. I was disappointed when he slid into the booth across from me. Even though Stephanie seemed nice it irritated me that she took Isaac’s seat.
By the end of the evening I was stuffed from the pizza, tired from the golf and happier than I’d ever been before. I’d had so much fun with Isaac and his friends. The only downfall of the night was meeting Brooke but after that one encounter she’d pretty much left me alone.
“So, was it really that bad?” Isaac asked when he walked me up to my front door to say good-bye.
“It was wonderful.”
“Good. I’m glad you came. My friends all really liked you.”
“I liked them also.” Most of them.
“I had a lot of fun with you.”
My pulse raced. “Me too.”
“See you tomorrow morning?”
“What’s tomorrow morning?”
“Church.”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“C’mon. It’ll be fun.”
I never thought I’d hear the words church and fun in the same sentence.
“You said it wasn’t so bad.”
“Yeah, miniature golfing and pizza wasn’t so bad, but going to church is completely different.”
“Maybe not. Maybe you’ll find that church isn’t so bad either.” He nudged me. “C’mon, just try it out. For me.”
My lips tugged upward in a grin. “Fine. For you.”
“See, I told you. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Isaac asked me in the lobby after service.
I shook my head. I had never been to church before but it looked a lot like I imagined with its stained glass windows and wooden pews. The music was pretty cool and the preaching was okay. I did find myself getting a little bored at parts, but sitting next to Isaac sure made it worth it. Frankly, the pastor could’ve spoken all day.
“Hungry?” Isaac asked.
“A little.”
“Wanna grab a bite to eat?”
I nodded. “Let me just find Grandma and let her know.”
There were only about a hundred people who attended the church, and my grandma seemed to know them all. She stood in a cluster of women who were chatting and laughing like schoolgirls. They stopped abruptly when they saw me.
“Oh, this must be your granddaughter,” one of them shrieked.
“She’s gorgeous,” said another.
My cheeks warmed and I smoothed down the skirt of my dress.
“This is McKenzie,” Grandma said placing her hand on the small of my back and gently guiding me into the circle. They all crowded around me. I had a flashback of being in preschool and playing London Bridges. Floral perfume and hairspray swirled around me.
I was met with a chorus of “Nice to meet you,” and “we’ve heard so much about you.”
I smiled politely and then faced Grandma. “Isaac and I are going to lunch.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Then I suppose I’ll grab lunch with the ladies.”
“Great.” I smiled again and pressed my way out of the circle. “See you later.” The moment I freed myself I ran right into Brooke.
“So, what’s your sob story?” she asked.
I was totally confused. Talk about coming out of left field. “What?”
“C’mon, you must have a story. Let me guess. You come from a divorced home, dad’s not around. Am I close?”
Too close. My face flamed.
“Look, everyone knows Isaac’s a rescuer.”
“What do you mean?”
“You think you’re the first girl Isaac’s brought around here?”
My stomach tightened. I wanted to cover my ears and run. Instead I stayed rooted in place, eager to hear what she had to say.
“I used to be you. I met Isaac a little over a year ago. My parents had just split. My mom moved here with her new boyfriend. Things weren’t going well for me. And then I met Isaac. We are started hanging out, he brought me to church and as soon as I got comfortable he moved on to the next girl who needed rescuing.”
My hands shook, my stomach rolled, and sweat broke out on my forehead. “Why are you telling me this?”
“It’s just a warning. Enjoy Isaac while you can.” With that she spun around and stalked off.
Could she be telling the truth? It made sense. Isaac did only take me out once at my grandma’s leading before he invited me to a church event. Was he only interested in getting me saved? I thought he’d been attracted to me but maybe all I was to him was another girl to rescue.
“Ready to go?” Isaac appeared by my side.
I stared at the deep maroon carpet. “No, I think I’ll just go home with grandma, after all.”
“But she just left.”
“She did?”
“Yeah. Are you okay?”
Still looking down I said, “I’m not feeling well. Can you take me home, please?”
“Sure.”
Once we got in the car I kept my gaze glued out the window. Even his proximity was making me nervous but I needed to just survive the short car ride home.
“Did something happen?” Isaac asked.
I shook my head.
“I saw you talking with Brooke. Did she say something to upset you?”
“No, she was fine.”
Awkward silence filled the car the rest of the ride. When we pulled up at the house, I jumped out before he could come around to open my door. I sprinted toward Grandma’s. Once safely inside I broke down into tears. I knew falling for another boy would only cause me heartbreak. It happened every time. When would I learn? Nobody loved me just for me. I was just somebody people used or took pity on. That’s all I’d ever be.
Without even realizing where I was headed, I ended up in the bathroom, razor held to my arm. This time the cut was deeper than usual and I started bleeding profusely. I pressed a wad of tissue against it to stop the bleeding and with the other hand frantically searched for the Band-Aids. The minute I located them I pulled one out and slapped it over my cut.
A loud knock startled me.
Could it be Isaac? I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t home. I had to answer it. Swiftly pulling the sleeve of my cardigan down over my arm, I raced to the front door. When I swung it open Rhiannon stood on the porch.
“Oh hi,” I said.
“Hey, I hadn’t seen you in a couple days and thought I’d check on you. See how you liked the book. But from the looks of your aura you’re not doing so well.”
Here we go again.
She wrinkled her nose, pursed her lips. “Hey, did you know that you’re bleeding all over your sweater?”
“What?” I lo
oked down to see crimson splatters on my sleeve.
Oh great. How would I explain this? Period? Nose bleed? Scratch?
Rhiannon reached out and pulled up my sleeve before I could stop her. The Band-Aid covered my newest cut but my old ones were still visible. Angry, I tore my arm away from her.
“Why would you do that?” Her boldness unnerved me.
“I suspected you were a cutter.”
“What?”
”It’s not rocket science. It’s actually pretty obvious because of your unhappy aura, always wearing long sleeves, and now the blood.”
I glared at her. Her smugness was really annoying.
“You can leave now,” I said.
“There’s no reason to be mad. I used to be a cutter too.” She put out her arms, palms side up. Large, grotesque scars rode up them. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed them before. But then again I never looked that closely. “I ended up cutting an artery and almost died. That’s how my parents found out about it. I had to see a shrink and everything.”
“Is that what made you stop?”
“No. I found something better than counseling. C’mon over to my house and I’ll show you. While I’m at it, I’ll wash your sweater. I’m sure you don’t want to have to explain your bloody clothes to your grandma.”
6
Rhiannon’s house mirrored Grandma’s. What made it seem so different was the bareness. The air smelled stale almost like no one lived there, the walls were bare and only a few items of trendy furniture were scattered throughout. I shivered. Grandma’s house was much more inviting and cozy. I noticed some boxes in the corner and then remembered that they’d moved fairly recently.
“Not done decorating, huh?”
“What?” Rhiannon followed my gaze. “Oh, that. Yeah, we move so often we usually don’t do a lot of decorating. Besides, my parents are never home.”
“Where are they?”
“Work, mostly. They don’t really fill me in on their plans. Let’s just say I’m not their top priority. My parents never shouxld’ve been parents. They’re completely career driven.”
I was starting to understand why she’d been a cutter.
“What about your grandma? Won’t she wonder where you are?”