I sit watching him for longer than is necessary taking him in knowing that moments with Graham are going to be limited for me. “I don’t expect anything from you if that’s what you think. I didn’t do it for me. I did it for you,” I explain as honestly as I know how. I look away from him as soon as the words leave my mouth. This is why I wanted to avoid this conversation all together. I don’t know where to begin to explain any of this without sounding like some 7th grader with a school girl crush.
“Why? You could have easily told the police everything. I have never given you a reason to protect me, so why did you do it? Because I’ve been trying to figure it out, Kennedy, and I can’t come up with any reasonable explanation.”
“Sit down please. You’re making me nervous,” I scoot over to the other side of my bed leaving a spot open for him to sit. He hesitantly moves over to where I am sitting and looks over at me before taking a seat next to me. I nod at him to reassure that it is okay. “We need to get a few things straight. I didn’t do it for myself. I didn’t think that I was going to benefit in letting you walk away from me with clean hands, but I knew that you would. I’ve seen you play baseball, Graham. I’m not willing to allow you to throw away your entire future because you made a bad decision. So you went out and got drunk and ran me over. I don’t believe that one moment should define you for the rest of your life.
He sits looking at me taking in everything that I just said before speaking. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers just loud enough for me to hear. I raise an eyebrow knowing that he is grateful for my decision.
“The detective came and visited me in the hospital. If that’s what you really want then I can let them know that it was you, but I don’t want to do that. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I just need a real answer from you because this whole ‘You don’t deserve to have your future ripped from you’ isn’t cutting it,” Graham argues. His voice is rapidly rising with his aggravation.
I sit there pulling at a loose piece of string on my comforter thinking about what he is asking of me. I don’t know how to answer without somehow revealing too much or embarrassing myself. Graham and I are on two different planets when it comes to high school hierarchy. He’s the King and I’m the peasant. That’s just how it is, how it will always be. I’m not under the impression that any of that will change.
I dig deep for the confidence that I need to say this to him. “This isn’t going to make much sense, but I’m going to say it anyways, so please listen. I’m only saying it once because once will be enough to embarrass me for a lifetime,” I look him directly in the eyes as I speak. I take a deep breath in and release it before I begin. “When I was standing on the stage that night I looked out in the crowd and I saw you watching me and for a split second I saw the guy who I believed that you were or at least hoped that you were. I’ve heard the rumors and see how everyone moves out of your wake in fear of being swallowed up by you. I know how everyone sees you. I just see something different I guess. Maybe I’m naïve and you’ll prove me wrong but I’m hoping that I’ll be right about you after all.”
Did I just say that out loud?
Graham sits next to me clearly thinking about what I had said. His facial expressions change a few times trying to work it all out in his head. His cluelessness is adorable.
“Okay,” he speaks quietly and hesitantly.
Sliding over to give him more room to sit down, I push play on the remote control. The movie springs to life with Julia Roberts explaining to Richard Gere how to drive his car. Graham takes a minute to realize this is my way of inviting him to stay to watch the movie. He looks unsure as he slides off his tennis shoes and props a pillow up behind his back before leaning against my headboard to get more comfortable.
We sit watching the movie for a half an hour before I can’t contain myself anymore letting out a giggle that quickly turns into a full-fledged laugh.
“Something amusing?” he looks over at me with a playful amused smirk.
“This is a bit ridiculous, right? I mean you sitting here in my bed watching Pretty Woman with me. No one would believe us if we told them.” I glance over at him and he is watching me laugh.
“I suppose it is.” Graham’s laughter falls perfectly in with mine and echoes through my room.
God, he has a great laugh. Don’t even think about it, Kennedy. Never gonna happen. It’s best that you remember that.
“What do we do now? I mean, are we friends or…” I trail off afraid of what he will have to say and slightly embarrassed that I even asked.
“I’d say we’re friends,” Graham smiles. It doesn’t reach as far as his eyes. Clearly, he’s hesitant.
“I didn’t think Graham Black had friends that were girls,” I joke. It is one of the many rumors that I’ve heard about him.
“I don’t, but I’m willing to make an exception for you.” He keeps eye contact with me as he says it. I believe him, but what does that even mean?
We sit in silence for a while until the movie is done playing. The room falls silent for a beat until I hear my parents arguing. Not again, I don’t have it in me to deal with them tonight especially with Graham sitting right next to me. They must have forgotten that he is here or else they wouldn’t have started in on each other like this.
How convenient.
“What do you mean you got laid off?” My mother shouts.
“It’s only temporarily. They are trying to adjust the budget then I’ll be back to work,” my dad explains.
“How are we supposed to afford to send Kennedy off to Columbia when we can barely afford Will’s tuition this year?” she questions him. Her voice is rising as the argument escalates.
Graham doesn’t say anything. He just sits next to me waiting for me to break the silence. The problem is that I don’t know what to say to him. I have barely spoken to him since I moved to town freshman year and now he sits listening into my own personal hell. He must feel how uncomfortable I am. He quickly breaks the silence for the both of us.
Chapter Twelve
-Graham-
Hearing Kennedy’s parents argue in the next room reminds me of home. It’s comforting knowing that my family isn’t the only ones that spend their nights arguing. How fucked up am I? I have a feeling that this isn’t a normal occurrence like it is at mine house. I can relate and I know she’s feeling uncomfortable with me being here. She looks over at me as her neck and cheeks begin to beam with the softest shade of pink.
“You plan on going to college in New York?” I ask in attempt to make her not freak out in embarrassment.
“If I’m lucky enough I will. At this point it’s a waiting game with my leg,” she explains shrugging her shoulders as if it isn’t that big of a deal. The way she peers over my way makes it seem like she feels bad for saying it. She is trying to protect my feelings, when it should be the other way around.
I swallow hard before continuing with the conversation. “You don’t think you’ll be able to dance?”
“No it’s not that. I’m sure I will--at some point. I’m just not sure if it will be like I used to. It’s going to take a while to heal is all I meant. I’m sorry.”
Why is she apologizing?
“How long have you been dancing?” I’m actually curious which surprises me.
“I started when I was four and haven’t stopped since,” she grins at me like it is Christmas morning and she realized Santa had made a visit. She obviously loves dancing by the way her eyes light up when she talks about it. “What about you?”
“How long have I been dancing?” I joke nudging her with my elbow right in her side. I feel comfortable around her. I don’t feel the need to be someone I’m not. It’s a nice and unexpected change. This is a good thing I try to remind myself. I let my arm fall directly next to where Kennedy’s lays naturally. Our skin is touching, but she doesn’t shy away from me. Damn, her skin is soft.
“Baseball…how long have you been playing ba
seball?” Kennedy smirks amused with my playfulness.
“Right about the same time that you started dancing, I suppose. I can’t remember ever not playing. It’s just something that I’ve always done.” I explain hoping that she will leave it at that. The real reason why I play is too deep of a conversation to have with a girl who is practically a stranger.
Kennedy sits beside me moving the remote from one hand to the other. It is a nervous tick. I can’t hold back my grin. If she only knew that I am just as nervous as she is sitting next to her. How do you go from barely speaking to each other to whatever this is?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks in a low sweet tone. I can’t force my eyes away from her bottom lip that she can’t stop biting down on. Must be another nervous tick of hers.
“You seem anxious.” I observe sitting up from the pillow that’s resting behind my back.
Kennedy contemplates my observation. “This isn’t going to be easy, is it? What I mean is what happens at school tomorrow? You say were friends, but are we really? We’ll just go back to being strangers who only notice each other in passing, right?”
“So you’ve noticed me, huh?” I laugh trying to lighten the mood. Secretly, I am hoping she has noticed me as twisted as that is.
Now would be the time to be honest…
“I’m not going to promise you anything. I’m not sure that I can keep any promise to you. I’m going to slip up, be an ass to you because I don’t know how to be friends to someone like you,” I explain honestly. After hearing the way it sounds coming out of my mouth and the way Kennedy is questionably staring at me, I realize my slip up.
“Someone like me...?” Kennedy questions my words obviously irritated how I shoved her into a category that she is unaware of. She’s disappointed.
You’re an ass hat.
“You’re better than me,” I blurt out. “I’ve never done anything to deserve you being nice to me, but still here you sit acting as if we have been friends forever. I’m an asshole, Kennedy. I don’t treat girls the way that they deserve to be treated. What does that say about me? All of the girls that hang around me I have probably slept with,” I answer with full honesty.
I don’t know what it is about this girl, but Kennedy makes me want to be honest. Don’t tell anyone I am admitting this. Not like anyone would believe you. Things are coming out of my mouth and I am thinking things that I don’t understand but I know they are the truth. No one holds me accountable for the way I treat people, but as Kennedy’s big blue eyes look up at me I feel the need to rectify my past. She is far too good of a person to be around. I’m being pulled to her whether I deserve to or not.
“Surely you’ve had friends that are girls?” she smiles innocently at me. This time it makes it up to her eyes. I’d like to believe she is humoring me knowing what my reputation is like. I have a feeling she is being serious by the way her eyes dance across my face trying to figure out what I can’t say out loud to her.
“In elementary school I guess I did when all I cared about was video games and hanging out with my friends. As soon as I hit a certain age, it was all purely based on sex,” I pause to see her reaction. She’s holding her breath. “Once I made it on varsity as a freshman, girls started throwing themselves at me. Being in a relationship was and is the furthest thing from my mind. I know that it is all based on physical attraction. I’ve never had any reason to keep friendships with girls.” Kennedy accepted this answer and changes the subject quicker than you can imagine.
We continue to talk for the next few hours. She avoids the topic of my “friendships”. I know it makes her uncomfortable, which is why I shamefully slid it into the conversation a few times. I like seeing her blush creep up her cheeks. Kennedy is too innocent compared to my debauchery. She explains to me that the talent show was the first time anyone at the school had seen her dance. She has gone to the same dance studio since she had moved here as a freshman. Before that, she was part of a very small studio where she used to live back in Michigan. I enjoyed watching her eyes light up when she talked about dancing. I look the same way when I talk about baseball.
“Why aren’t you on the dance team at school?” I ask curiously. She is clearly good enough, much better than any of the other dancers at our school.
“Dance has always been my hiding spot. It would turn into something else if I did it every Friday at the pep rallies…” she trails off leaving the thought in the air.
“But you chose to dance in the talent show? Not exactly the most discreet, Ken,” I raise an eyebrow at her. She smiles at me knowing that I am right. Everyone goes to those talent shows. Most of us are bribed with extra credit. None the less, we are all known to be there.
“Violet pushed me to do it actually. She’s the only one who’s seen me dance.”
“You’re too good not to dance in front of people.” I lean forward to get a better look in her eyes. She had leaned away from me trying to avoid eye contact earlier, but looks up at me when I reach up to place a finger under her chin to try to coax her into acknowledging what I just said. She humors me and looks through her eyelashes directly into my eyes.
Something comes over me. I don’t know why I do it, but I lean in to her leaving only a mere inch between our lips. Kennedy’s breaths are deepening along with mine. I can feel every exhale of hers on my lips. I instantly regret what I have done. What are you thinking? She isn’t one of your conquests. Leave this poor girl alone.
Her eyes are wide with obvious surprise. We both quickly turn away before either of us closes the gap any further.
“It’s getting kind of late,” she whispers scooting herself down to the end of the bed swinging her leg over the side. We both look at the clock and it reads 2:45am.
“Holy shit, my mom’s probably freaking out,” I bend down to slide my shoes on before walking towards Kennedy’s bedroom door. I look back at her as she sits at the foot of her bed. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, okay?” She nods and smiles at me as I turn my back on her.
Chapter Thirteen
-Kennedy-
The sun streams through the sheer curtains in my bedroom waking me before my alarm clock has a chance to actually do its job. I’m not nearly ready to get out of bed. Facing reality is the last thing I want to do. Like most things in life I don’t have much choice.
I had trouble falling asleep last night. I stayed up most of the night once Graham bolted out of my house replaying every word we spoke over and over in my head. My head is still clouded from being near him.
Last night just cemented the fact that Graham and I are different. I keep reminding myself that Graham’s not the type of person to turn his head towards someone as simple as me. He spends his whole existence being worshiped by everyone when I’m average at best. Graham is popular, athletic, and freaking gorgeous to the point that it hurts to look at him for too long. I’m none of these things. There isn’t a world where Graham and I would have any reason to mingle in with each other. That’s just how it is. I think I’m okay with that. I have to be okay with it.
Continuing to lie in bed staring at the ceiling is beginning to seem more appealing as I think how today will go. Being face to face with Graham isn’t something you can prepare yourself for. I have always believed I am immune to his type of power, to his appeal. Last night proved that to be utterly wrong. I am anything, but immune to him. He looks at you in this way that makes you want to become everything he wants. I am under no false pretense that his innocent glances and playful banter is reserved solely for me. I fell into the trap anyways and let myself believe for a few minutes that he could actually be looking at me and not just threw me like he does everyone else.
As I eat my cereal waiting for Violet to show up, I fall into a bit of a daydream. Almost, for a split second, I thought Graham was going to try to kiss me. It would be a lie if I said I didn’t think about it, how his lips would feel against mine. I’ve wondered how it would feel to be kissed.
“I’m
leaving for school,” I shout to my mom as I put my bowl of half eaten cereal into the kitchen sink. No response until I nearly shut the front door. I thought I heard her say to have a nice day. Unlikely.
Violet is a good friend, but she isn’t by any stretch of the word compassionate. I would never expect her to walk up to my front door and help me with my things even knowing that it would be a lot quicker if she did. That’s why she’s smiling in the driver’s seat watching the embarrassment of me trying to keep my back pack on my shoulder as I stumble around on my crutches.
“Hey Slut, get in the car,” Violet screams through her open window as soon as I hit the driveway to greet her.
“One…I’m not a slut and you know that. Two…I’m sort of crippled here, so give me a minute or two to get out there,” I shout back to her. I pull open her passenger side door and throw everything in the backseat.
“What did you do last night? I tried texting you, but I never heard back from you.” Violet peers over at me turning up the radio.
I debate back and forth between telling her about Graham and keeping it a secret. “I worked on homework and passed out pretty early,” I lie deciding to keep it to myself. The rest of the drive to school is spent in silence except for Carly Rae Jepsen’s song “Call Me Maybe” playing in the background. Violet sings along without missing a beat. She sings off key and still continues to belt it out like she can’t hear how horrible she sounds.
The parking lot is full of students loitering around their cars. They are likely discussing the latest drama that has managed to be passed through the rumor mill. Hopefully my accident has moved down that list. I throw my backpack on the hood of the car as I struggle to get my crutches from the back seat. The muscles in my shoulders ache from using the torture devices. If anything, I’m going to have the buffest shoulders that will put an Olympic swimmer’s to shame.
When Our Worlds Collide Page 7