When Our Worlds Collide

by Iler, Lindsey

  “What do you think about her? Kennedy?” I ask slamming the baseball repeatedly into my mitt.

  Mark lets out a strand of uncontrollable laughs. I want to beat the shit out of him when I see the way he’s looking at me. He knows…he has to.

  “The fact that you are even asking pretty much means that you don’t want to hear what I have to say, but since you’re practically my brother I’ll be honest with you. The girl is smoking hot and ridiculously smart. Too smart to even fathom trying to snuggle up to any of us. She’s quiet and understated in the best kind of way. She’s the type of girl you marry, not fuck, so if that’s your intentions I suggest you run in the opposite direction of her because a girl like that…” Mark turns and points back to a clueless Kennedy. “A beautiful girl like that will love you and bury herself so deep in you that you won’t realize it until you are writing love letters and buying flowers like a little pussy.”

  I looked at my best friend in shock. “That was poetic man, real deep,” I laugh shoving him away from the pitcher’s mound.

  “I’m not the one asking about a girl like I’m in third grade. Do you want me to go ask her if she likes you too?” Mark jokes heading back to his spot behind home plate.

  I watch the seconds on the scoreboard count down. After throwing out a few practice pitches, I am ready for the game to start. We’re playing one of our rivals. I always get more anxious and amped up when our bragging rights are on the line. I have a hatred for their first baseman. He and I met in 7th grade at a baseball summer camp. Not many people can tolerate him. He’s a damn good ball player, not as good as me of course. He’s given a free pass in life to be an asshole. Some may say the same about me.

  As usual when I stand on the dirt mound all things plaguing my mind falls to the side just for a few short innings. I get to erase the memory of my own father beating the shit out of me just the night before even though I feel it running through my ribs with every pitch I throw over home plate. It’s easier to forget the pressure I feel to win this game. The one thing that doesn’t fall away is Kennedy. She seems to be the only thing that consumes my thoughts. I keep replaying Mark’s little impromptu speech. Everything he said was damn near the truth. It’s unlike me and it would be easier to be the guy I was before the accident. Before Kennedy came along and screwed me all up.

  I catch a good look towards her as I prepare to send out the first pitch. She’s standing along the fence laughing with Violet. Her long brown hair falls around her face as she reaches down to grab the camera that is hanging around her neck. As if I’m connected to her somehow I can feel the lens on me as she watches through the small window. I smile just as I release the pitch knowing that she will capture the moment. Kennedy just won’t know that the smile is meant for her.

  They ended up being a tougher team than we expected. They gave us a run for our money when in the sixth inning they almost gained a run on us. In the end we took control winning with eleven runs to their nine. As the team celebrates the win near the dugout, I keep my eyes on Kennedy as she walks closer towards where the team is gathered giving each other high fives and pats on the back. Violet’s on her side and I quickly notice Amanda hot on their heels.

  Oh shit. I’m screwed.

  Please keep your god damn mouth shut, Amanda.

  Amanda runs up to the fence trying to gain my attention. “Graham, looks like our tradition works,” she boasts with the confidence only she is capable of. I used to find it endearing. Now I wish she would have moved back in the 5th grade. All of the guys on the team hoot and holler while Coach tells us to calm down. The only face I see is Kennedy’s as she approaches the team. She looks livid, but tries to hide it behind her camera. I can tell by the way her lips are pursed and the way her shoulders are tight that she heard everything Amanda had said. I don’t have any way to explain it to her. I’m such a dick.

  There’s no excuse and no explanation that can make this moment less fucked up. Willing Kennedy to look in my direction is impossible. Even as she takes multiple photos of the team her eyes pass right over mine as if I’m not even there anymore, as if I don’t exist in her world. I just proved to her that she is wrong about me once again. I am exactly who I claimed to be. This Graham isn’t worthy of someone as kind hearted and forgiving as Kennedy. Of course, I don’t think forgiveness is something I’m going to get from her any time soon. I follow the rest of the team across the parking lot heading to the locker room with my shoulders slumped over in defeat.

  “Kennedy, you coming over tonight?” Craig shouts to her as she starts to get in her car.

  Without missing a beat Kennedy looks directly at me. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Violet and Dan owe us a rematch,” she winks at him. She winks at him? I suppose I deserve that. She turns her eyes onto me with an empty glare before jumping into her car and starting it. Her eyes were empty when she looked at me. She no longer looks at me as if I am worth something. I’m nothing.

  A few of the guys slap Craig on the back congratulating him on scoring someone as innocent as Kennedy the minute we all are done showering. I grip the door of my locker trying to stifle my anger before I rip it off of its hinges and bash it against Craig’s pretty little face. Mark watches me unraveling in front of him. He shakes his head, slaps me on the shoulder as he strides by.

  “She’s the kind that you marry, Bro. If your eyes are saying what I think they are saying then don’t let that little asshole near her innocence, understand me?” Mark whispers shutting the door to his locker.

  The party is in full swing by the time I arrive. It’s the usual scene. There’s the usual beer pong table set up in the dining room, a group playing Xbox in the living room and the kegs safely tucked in the kitchen. People are scattered everywhere flirting and bumping into each other on purpose. Amanda finds me quickly like she’s a search and missal. She doesn’t waste any time by slinging her arm around my waist clearly intoxicated beyond the point where it’s necessary.

  “What can I do for you Amanda?” I say annoyed not bothering to try to hide it. I can’t blame my predicament on her, but it sure as hell feels good to pretend I can.

  “I think you know what you can do for me,” she propositions biting down on her lip.

  Jesus Christ.

  “Does it ever get old for you? This whole ‘Let me throw myself at you and hopefully you’ll pick up the pieces’ thing? You look desperate and it’s not as cute as you think it is.” Clearly I could have sugarcoated that a bit better seeing how I was just inside of her a few hours before. That is truly as sweet as it was going to get tonight.

  Amanda’s always been my weakness. She’s easy and present, so I constantly jumped on the opportunity. Not anymore. I don’t care if Kennedy hates me. I’m not going to use Amanda like that anymore.

  I slipped up today and I fell back into my old routine after Kennedy and I argued in the hallway at school. I’ve never been one to make up excuses and I’m not planning on starting now. I did what I did and there is nothing I can do to take it back. Now I’m living with the consequences of my actions. The only thing that I can do is try to prove to Kennedy that I am sorry, once again.

  The room goes quiet, too quiet. I look only at Amanda to try to drive my point home. Her eyes start to water. Even though I feel some form of remorse I know that this is the only way to prove to her that what I said is true.

  “You’re an asshole, Graham. You know that?” she says before slapping me across the face with the fury only a scorned woman is capable of.

  I look around the room to see that everyone’s eyes are locked on me. I can’t find it in myself to even care. I’m used to being this guy. That hasn’t seem to deter any of the girls from trying to climb on my lap every chance they can get. I doubt one public display of assholeness would change any of their minds about trying to get in my bed.

  Walking through the crowded party I can feel everyone’s gaze burning into the back of my head. Their curiosity is apparent. I step onto the back deck t
o see Kennedy and Violet huddled against the railing talking in a low whisper.

  “I’m just going to go inside,” Violet explains with a wink directed straight at me. It’s damn obvious that Kennedy has indulged our situation to her best friend by the looks Violet’s been sending me all week.

  I stand next to Kennedy as we both stay silent until I break the quiet that’s looming between us. “I’m not going to apologize to you. I know it won’t make any difference. I regret what I did. Just thought you should know that,” I explain easily with a clear voice to make sure she doesn’t miss a single part of my apology. I need her to know that I’m taking this mistake seriously. Apologizing isn’t something I’m used to.

  “I heard what you did to Amanda in there. That wasn’t fair to her, you catching her off guard like that,” she whispers running her hand over a piece of splintered wood on the railing. I’d do anything to get her to look up at me.

  “Are you defending her?” I question in pure shock.

  Kennedy’s head snaps up to look at me in surprise. “I just know how it feels to want you and know that it will never happen because you’re too stupid to realize what’s in front of you. I just know how she must have felt when you laid it all out there for her to understand. Luckily, I figured it out before I slept with you.” Kennedy stands up straight moving to have her back turned on me.

  “You’re nothing like Amanda. It’s different.” I beg for her understanding.

  Kennedy whips her body around to face me with a fight in her eyes. “Explain to me how it’s different because I don’t see it. You go around saying these things to these poor girls, me being included in that group now all thanks to you, and expect there not to be a reaction from us. I believed everything you said to me. Everything Graham, every last god damn word. You proved me wrong. The first little bump in our ‘relationship’ you jump ship and find comfort in Amanda’s pants. You are exactly who you said you were. I was just blinded by who I wanted you to be.”

  “Don’t belittle our relationship by throwing up air quotes. I thought you were giving up on us. You basically said it yourself in the hallway today, so…” I allow the thought slip away. Nothing I’m going to say is going to fix this. Even I know that now.

  “You’re right, I did and maybe I shouldn’t have. I was jealous, okay? When Amanda put her hands on you in the cafeteria I had to fight back the urge of ripping her fucking hair out of her head. I’m not that type of girl, but you make me feel like I’m losing my mind sometimes.” Kennedy looks up at me through her eyelashes as if she’s pleading with me to understand. “But Graham, you didn’t fight for me. I show a fear of the possibility of us and you don’t even fight for me as if I’m not worth your trouble.”

  “I’m fighting now,” I argue grabbing her hand but she quickly jerks it away from me.

  “It’s too late Graham. Maybe I’m not worth all the change for you, but I can promise you that you were worth it for me.” Kennedy leaves shaking her head in disappointment. I’m left alone standing on the back porch.

  It’s too late. Those three little words continue to haunt me the remainder of the night. I contemplate leaving and just going home. The only thing stopping me from walking out the front door is finding Kennedy downing four shots of vodka with Dan. I know that I have to stick around long enough to make sure she gets home okay or at the very least that she’s safe to stay.

  The night goes by slowly as I watch Kennedy destructively play several games of beer pong and flip cup. She’s too small. I know that all the alcohol she’s gulping is going to catch up to her head all at once. I spend most of the night avoiding taking shots that are offered up to me and staying stone sober. This is a first for me. I don’t exactly enjoy being around a bunch of belligerent drunks when I’m sober. I wonder if I’m this annoyingly obnoxious when I’m drinking.

  Blending into the crowd is the only chance I have at keeping an eye on her. I cringe every time Craig or any of the other guys lay a hand on her. She has never gone unnoticed even when she thinks she has. Everyone assumes she’s unattainable…until now.

  Apparently that all has changed.

  It would seem that they all think she’s fair game and they are all pining over her hoping for the chance to get deep inside her. I sit back watching guy after guy man-handle her like they have most of the girls in our school. If I see one more of them putting their hands all over her ass I am going to lose my shit. Kennedy’s different.

  “You gonna finally tell me what’s going on with you two?” Mark asks plopping down in the seat next to me. I don’t drop my eyes from Kennedy. Craig’s skimming his hand along her waist. As the alcohol sinks in, she’s more forgiving towards his hand placement.

  “There’s nothing to tell, bro,” I say pulling my phone out of my pocket checking the time. 1:30AM. Kill me.

  “Tell that to your face because you look like someone tore up your vintage New York Yankees jersey.” Mark lets out a loud laugh.

  My mind wanders to what Mark had said about Kennedy earlier. She’s the type of girl you marry, the one that has the ability to climb beneath your muscles deep down into your bones refusing to leave. I never thought I would want someone that I would need someone, but watching everyone coral around Kennedy makes me realize that she’s the only one I want to climb in and refuse to let her out.

  “She’s different and I’m two seconds away of beating the shit out of someone.” I tell him honestly. My hands are twitching in eagerness to do just that. There’s mental note of who I will need to smack around growing with rapid fire in my head.

  “I’m glad I’m smart enough to stay away from her then because lord knows I don’t need another black eye compliments from you. I learned my lesson freshman year. Now back to what’s important, what the fuck are you going to do about it because it seems that alcohol is the one ingredient that makes the Craig Daniel’s charm work,” Mark points to the hallway. We both watch as Kennedy is led up the stairs holding the hand of Craig. She stumbles behind him trying to keep her balancing by leaning against the wall.

  I don’t know what I’m doing when I stand up without saying anything to Mark. I follow them up staying strides behind like a true jealous boyfriend. Craig shuts the door behind them as I slouch down against the hallway wall outside of his room just in case she needs me.

  I close my eyes allowing them to rest. I silently wish that this day could start over. I don’t know how much time passes as I sit here debating on what I’m going to do. My options are limited. If I barged in on them now who knows what I will be walking in on, but if I wait until later I may be too late. When I finally open my eyes after having them closed for god knows how long, I hear a few hushed whispers here and there. It isn’t until I hear Craig’s voice rising that I spring up from where I’m sulking to put my ear up to the door. Everything sounds muffled like I’m under water. I hear a loud clatter making my decision rather easy. I don’t care what I walk in on…I’m not sitting out in this hallway a second longer.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  -Kennedy-

  Have you ever had one of those moments in your life where you wish you would’ve reacted differently? Maybe you would have yelled louder or fought harder. Maybe you wouldn’t have held back the tears that are threatening to pool over in your eyes or maybe you would have jumped over a crowd of your peers and ripped a dumb girls platinum hair straight out of her head. Ugh…where did that come from?

  That’s what I should have done. That’s what I wanted to do, but because I’m me I bit back the urge. Instead I threw it back in Graham’s face by blatantly flirting with Craig in front of him. It was childish. I just never thought that it would cause such harm.

  Clearly, I was wrong.

  Using Craig to get back at Graham was the wrong thing to do in the beginning. I knew that now. I liked the way Graham’s face twisted with rage when I winked at Craig after the game or ran my hand down his chest showing him a hint of attention. It was unlikely behavior for me. I felt comfo
rtable being like that with Graham, but with anyone else it felt too foreign, too forced.

  Right after that girl, who shall not be named from this point on except by her true name “Skank”, admitted to a crowd of people her and Graham’s dirty little secret I turned the flirting on overdrive. The plan was flawed from the beginning.

  Being bitter and infuriated, just plain old frustrated is what got me in this mess. A handful of shots that could take down a stocky teenage boy, a six pack of beer and nearly three watermelon Jell-O shots is why I’m staring up at a blank white ceiling with a fan slowly circling around overhead hypnotizing me into a trance. I’m just staring at this fan attempting at my best to forget the way I feel right now.

  This is how most high school girls get over heartache, right? Violet said it best freshman year, to get over someone you have to get under someone else. I know, I know. She’s super “philosophical” and all that, but at the time it sort of made sense. That theory doesn’t really work for me though because I’ve never been underneath anyone in the biblical sense at least. Oh well.

  I’m lying here listening to the wind break through the window from the lake with the sound of heavy panting from Craig who is now attempting to mount me. I begin to realize that Violet was wrong. Oh boy was she wrong and it didn’t take me more than a few minutes of making out with a horny teenage boy to come to that conclusion.

  “Craig, you need to slow down,” I demand pushing on his right shoulder to try to coax his heavy body from on top of me. His hand is up my top trying to unhook my bra unsuccessfully. Thankfully he listens, sitting up next to me.

  “What’s wrong?” he pants out in between breaths annoyed by my persistence to halt him stealing my virtue.

  I’m drunk, like the kind of drunk where your limbs feel like noodles or you don’t realize how drunk you are until you sit down to go to the bathroom and the room begins to spin around you. Although the alcohol is altering and slowing down my responses I’m smart enough to know that this was not how it was supposed to happen for me. In a perfect world I would have been stealing moments away with Graham tonight. Our story took a turn down a dark road and finding my way back seems impossible now. It was too black to navigate.