When Our Worlds Collide

by Iler, Lindsey

  “Oh my gosh,” she praises me while she continues to walk. “How did you know to do that?”

  “I’m a boy and I used to be a little boy who thought he was Batman. I had plenty of time to master the use of crutches.” I admire her still walking around with much better ease.

  “Thank you, this is going to make my life much easier.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” Once the words are out of my mouth I instantly regret them. That’s the funny thing about words, once they come out there’s no way to put them back in. Kennedy catches on to what I am insinuating and moves past me heading straight to her bedroom without saying another word to me.

  I remember the first time I came here, we spent the whole night in there and I managed to apologize more than I ever thought was possible. The look on her face just then reminded me of that night. I am starting to think that she doesn’t want my apologies. Every time I make an attempt at one she goes surly and gets frustrated.

  I find Kennedy’s room empty. Her bathroom door is tightly closed shut leaving only a stream of light to escape at the bottom. I suddenly feel uncomfortable, out of place standing in her bedroom. Trying to be Kennedy’s friend is becoming impossible. I am starting to think that’s the whole point.

  “You know you can take off your shoes and get comfortable, right?” Kennedy walks out wearing a pair of sweatpants that have PINK written across the butt and a tank top. She has this amazing body. She’s thin with just enough of that curve to peek your interest. You can’t blame me for looking. It’s impossible not to at least sneak a quick peak.

  “I wasn’t sure you wanted me to stay after the way you stormed off on me out there,” I say pretending to be offended with how she reacted. She looks up at me as she bends down to grab a bottle of lotion from her bedside table. She squeezes the bottle releasing a small amount into her hand. I’m transfixed as she rubs the lotion into her palms and up her arms. I can smell the coconut scent from where I’m standing across the room.

  Kennedy thinks about what I say before sitting on her bed and patting the spot next to her encouraging me to sit down, “Sorry about that. It’s just…”

  “It’s just what?” I sit down turning to look her in the eyes.

  “Can I be honest with you?”

  “You haven’t held back this far,” I stifle my laughter.

  Kennedy shifts her body closer to mine. Not knowing if it’s intentional or not, I choose not to move. Her leg brushes against mine and as she turns to look at me I can’t stop from noticing how close we are. I’d just need to lean forward an inch or two to connect my lips with hers.

  “I shouldn’t like you, but…” she trails off focusing on spinning the plain silver band that sits around her right ring finger. Her long hair is falling across her face blocking my view of her. Instinctively I brush the strand behind her ear giving her no choice but to look over at me from the contact. She swallows hard enough to make it obvious. “Everything in my head tells me to run the opposite direction of you, but I can’t help but believe that what I said was true. I think there’s more to you then you let on.”

  “You should, you know? Run the opposite direction of me. I’m not a good person. I’m not someone you should waste your time on,” I plead with her knowing very well that I hope she won’t listen to me in the end. She tries to protest me. I interrupt her before she can say anything. “Kennedy, stop making excuses for me. I ran you over with my car. I was too drunk and too stupid to think anything bad could happen. Now you’re here saying these things when in reality I am the guy that everyone knows me to be. There’s nothing more and nothing less to me. I’m not the guy you think I am.”

  Kennedy stands up from the bed directly in front of me with both of her hands on her hips. “Okay, if that’s true then why are you here?” she protests me again.

  I run my hand over my face and down my neck looking up at her. Kennedy takes another step closer to me. She’s still too close to me standing directly in between my parted legs that are sticking straight up from the bed. “What do you mean?” I ask in attempt to stall.

  “What I mean is, if you are this jackass that you claim to be then why are you here with me now? Why do you keep trying to talk to me? Why did you pull me away from your friend Craig to talk? And don’t think I didn’t notice you stifling on the other side of the booth tonight when Craig rubbed up on my thigh. I saw you, so I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?”

  Kennedy’s breaths are shallow as I watch every intake and every release she gives. Distracting it may be, but it was proof that she was alive, that I hadn’t killed her that night. It means that she’s still capable of surprising me with her confidence. Kennedy called me out on being jealous just now. Did anyone miss that?

  “You’re too good for any of us, Kennedy,” I stand up to face her. I feel vulnerable looking up towards her. “Is that what you wanted to hear me say? I don’t like the way they look at you because I know the type of guys they are. The reason why I am here is because…”

  “Because…” Kennedy’s much shorter than me making her have to look up at me through her thick black eye lashes. I’m dumbfounded into silence by her confidence when she throws her hands onto her hips in frustration.

  “Because that night when you danced, the night I ran you over, you captivated me, okay? You looked vulnerable. I was in awe and trust me I know how corny that sounds especially coming from someone like me, but I wondered if someone would ever allow me to be that vulnerable in front of them. You seemed to leave everything out on that stage and I was jealous of you because sometimes I feel like I am just putting on an act,” I explain feeling a mixture of anger and fascination for how I’m feeling. “When I saw you lying on the road that night my heart sank into my stomach. I was scared that I would never be able to know that girl who danced on that stage as if her life depended on it. I know I haven’t earned the right to get to know you, but I’d like to.”

  Kennedy still stands trying to keep her balance in front of me. She licks her bottom lip distracting me. Her eyes are glossy. She’s fighting back her tears. I don’t like that I made those tears a reality. “Do you mean all of that? Everything that you just said…is all that true?” she asks with a slight smile making me think otherwise on if her crying is in fact a good thing instead of a bad thing.

  “Painfully…yes.”

  Her arms fly up to the air in frustration. “That’s what I mean. You claim to be this guy who treats girls like crap and doesn’t care about anyone but yourself, but here you are willing to stand in front of me and say those types of things. I think you’re exactly who I think you are, I’m just afraid you’ll never see yourself the way I see you,” Kennedy professes. Her head came towards mine slightly and I wanted to kiss her in that moment, but knew that it would just complicate things.

  “So where does that leave us?” I ask not knowing what she wants to do.

  “Help me to the bed.”

  “You move quick Kennedy. I don’t know if I can keep up with you.” She smacks me across the chest and at the immediate contact I reach out for her, grabbing her waist. A shiver runs over her body as I help ease her down onto the bed.

  “Very funny, but I think we both know I’m not that type of girl.” Kennedy stretches her legs out across her bed looking over to me as I stand where she had left me.

  “What are you doing with Craig then?” I ask hoping she won’t tell me any of the sordid details. I can admit it…now. It makes me extremely jealous that she has even giving him a second of her time.

  “What are you doing with Amanda?” Kennedy looks at me in question. I don’t have the right to ask about her personal life. She’s putting me in my place.

  “Touché, but word got around that you slept in his room. That only means one thing to them. I figured I’d get the truth from you and not listen to what everyone else was saying. I’m learning that rumors are never true.”

  “You heard I slept in his room?” Kennedy looks defeated. She’s emb
arrassed. She keeps focus on her hands and not on me.

  “He’s a guy. News travels fast,” I kick off my shoes and sit at the end of the bed with my back against the wall. Our feet brush against each other’s accidentally. Neither of us makes an attempt to move away from each other’s touch as minor as the gesture is.

  “The real story is that I had drank too much to leave and Violet was with Dan. Craig claimed that he didn’t feel comfortable leaving me downstairs with the other guys, so he brought me up to his room. I know it sounds naïve of me, but I think he meant well,” she explains the night as she remembers. “Apparently we kissed, but nothing else happened.” I let out a loud exasperated sigh at her ignorance. “You don’t believe me?” Kennedy openly pouts.

  “Oh no babe, I believe you. I don’t believe Craig didn’t try anything else,” I watch as her expression changes from disbelief to acknowledgement. Did I really just call her babe? Maybe she didn’t notice.

  “I don’t know how he is with other girls, but I can assure you that he was a gentleman,” she looked around the room trying to distract herself. I nodded in response and Kennedy changed the subject. “I don’t think you came here to talk about Craig. Tell me something, anything.”

  “What do you want to know?” I smile at her question as she watches me patiently. I’m not the easiest person to talk to. She’s about to find that out.

  “Tell me about your family,” Kennedy suggests innocently. I freeze immediately. Now I am the one avoiding all eye contact. I sit up moving off of the bed.

  “Anything else, but that,” I look back at her. I can see the concern etched across her face.

  I’m being too obvious.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  -Kennedy-

  Graham’s pacing around my bedroom looking at everything that comes into his focus except for me. Now I know how he must feel when I avoid his eye line at all cost. He’s blatantly avoiding my part of the room for a reason. I just don’t know what it is. Watching him pick up different picture frames scanning his eyes over the photos of my family, and of me and Violet I wonder how bad it would have to be for him to feel the need to hide it. He places them all down in their rightful spot. It’s when he turns his attention to me that I’m scared for him. His eyes seem empty.

  Graham seems to be your typical all-American boy who lives a life of perfection. He’s gorgeous and talented. He comes from a respected family in the community. His family’s wealthy beyond comprehension. Something about that makes him appear to be untouchable to everything, as if the rest of our everyday worries aren’t capable of touching him. He’s invincible.

  “Are you okay?” I ask him worried by the look in his eyes. He has a story hidden behind the perfect shade of brown that makes me want to know everything he’s willing to divulge to me.

  “Out of everything you could have asked me you brought up my family,” he shook his head as if he’s trying to erase a horrible nightmare, as if the thought of even bringing up his family tore a gaping hole in his perfect world.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to. I just assumed it was an easy enough question.”

  “There’s nothing easy about my family, Ken.” A pained smile crosses his face before he continues. “I want to be that guy that you think I am and be able to explain these things to you, but I don’t know how. My family is complicated and it’s a subject I’d like to avoid if that’s okay. I don’t talk to anyone about them.”

  I reach out my hand and he comes across the room meeting me. He grabs ahold of my outstretched hand sitting down on the edge of the bed directly next to me. I don’t release my light grip. He doesn’t seem to mind, but continues to look at our linked fingers. It was foreign for the both of us.

  “Graham, look at me,” I request. He listens peering up at me. “Don’t feel obligated to tell me anything. I only want to know the things you want me to know. I’ll take what I can get.”

  “I want to be honest with you.” Graham’s voice is low as if someone would overhear our conversation. He begins rubbing small circles on my finger with his thumb. The feeling of his skin against my skin sends shivers through my body causing my breath to deepen. No one’s ever touched me like that, as innocent as it seems.

  “I appreciate that and if you want us to be friends then I don’t expect anything less from you. That doesn’t mean that it has to happen tonight. You don’t need to talk to me about them.”

  Graham stands forcing the release of our hold on each other. I feel something missing immediately once his warmth is gone. “I think I better get going. It’s already a quarter to midnight,” he says. I walk him out of my room through the darkened house. I don’t want him to leave, but I know he needs something and being around me isn’t it. We don’t say anything to each other when he walks out of my front door. I want to call out to him. Something stops me.

  Knowing what to say to him is the most difficult. He froze up when I asked about his family. There’s a pit in my stomach as I think about our conversation tonight. I try everything to push this horrible feeling away. I lock the door and head for my room thinking about how upset Graham had gotten over something that seems trivial to most.

  The house seems emptier now with Graham being gone. Staying in the house without my parents now feels strange. The only other time they have left me alone is when my brother was still living here. They went away for the weekend and the entire time I hung out working on a history paper while my brother hooked up with his girlfriend in my parent’s bed. There was no surprise when they trusted me to be here alone this week. I’ve never gotten into any real trouble before.

  I scan my massive movie collection that is lined up on my larger bookshelf searching for something to watch. I intend on watching a raunchy comedy after the odd conversation I had with Graham. I know falling asleep would end up being a chore tonight. It’s a toss-up, but I ended up throwing in The Hangover. Before climbing into bed I rip off my sweatpants and throw on a pair of shorts.

  I doze off just as they are waking up from their night of mayhem. I am woken up by a tapping on my window. Naturally, panic sets in. Goosebumps rise up to greet me as I hover under the blankets. In my twisted morbid head I assume someone is going to break in and murder me. That makes sense right? Of course a real murderer would knock on your window before punching out the glass. I need to stop watching Criminal Minds with my dad. I’m too jittery to handle shows like that.

  I drop the blankets from around my head wondering if I imagined the noise. Tap tap tap. That was definitely a tap on my window. I didn’t hear it again as I sit as still as possible on my bed. I could have easily been dreaming. I realize I wasn’t when I hear the doorbell ring. I jump instantly at the sound that rings throughout the house making its way down the hallway into my bedroom. I grab my crutches making my slow walk to the front entryway. Maybe it’s Mrs. Garrison from next door. She is always panicked about something, coming over to ask my dad to check around her property. I flip on the front porch light and see Graham kicking at the welcome mat staring at his feet. The top of his dark down hair is illuminated from the porch lamp. That is all I could see through the small window from where I am hiding behind the door.

  I swing the door open afraid of what is waiting for me on the other side. “What are you doing here, Graham?” I ask with obvious fear in my voice. His eyes are trained on his feet refusing to look up at me as I speak.

  “I…ugh…” Graham looks up at me finally. Now I see a tiny glimpse into why he’s avoiding making any sort of eye contact. “I didn’t know where else to go, so I got in my car and ended up here. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.” He goes to turn away. I reach out to him pulling his body in the house directing him over to the living room couches. He sits down on the love seat facing forward staring at the wall that holds a cluster of our family photos. I throw my crutches on the floor beside the couch deciding to slump down next to him before turning the side table lamp on.

  “Graham,
please look at me.” I whisper. My body naturally leans forward in encouragement trying to get a better look at him.

  “I’m so embarrassed. Coming here wasn’t a good idea, but I didn’t know where else to go. No one knows about this.” He looks up at me and that’s when I get to see what he’s embarrassed about. A huge bruise covers his right eye and cascades down his cheek. I reach up and brush my fingers along the purple edges. Graham doesn’t back away from my touch making me feel at ease when making such a subtle contact with him. He only winces at the initial touch.

  “Tell me what happened” I shift around to face him and grab his hand. I can’t tell you why I did it, it just seemed natural and the right thing to do. That part scares me, how at ease I feel around Graham who is practically a stranger. The look on Graham’s face as he turns to face me is gut-wrenching. He looks out of place. I could live a lifetime never seeing that look in his eyes again. They’re empty, void of any emotion. The life is fading out of them right in front of me and all I want to do is bring the familiar sparkle back that I first saw freshman year.

  “My father is what happened.” He turns away from me trying to hide a tear that falls down his cheek. I know he doesn’t want me to see, but it’s too late for keeping secrets. My heart is breaking into a million pieces as I watch his hands shaking. I’m not sure what I can do to help. I keep ahold of his right hand as he lifts up his left to wipe away the unwanted tears. We sit on my parent’s couch for what feels like an hour without saying anything. Graham avoids looking at me. I feel content sitting with him in silent. Words aren’t necessary between us. I don’t know when that happened, but just being next to him makes me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. I think that’s what he needs, a little silence and understanding.

  Outside the window I can see the stars shining bright in the sky. It’s late. I stand up from the couch keeping a tight hold on his hand pulling him to stand up along with me. He glances sideways through his eyelashes with confusion, but obeys my silent command. I hobble on my one good leg grabbing my crutches and guiding Graham back to my bedroom.