When Our Worlds Collide

by Iler, Lindsey

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  -Kennedy-

  Did I really just do that? What was I thinking?

  How can one guy, just one guy have this much effect on me? I’ve become the type of girl I never said I would be. Every move I make when he’s nearby is deliberate and flirtatious as if I’m trying to keep his attention. I’m living in fear that some other new shiny toy will step in his eye line and he’ll quickly dismiss me.

  I suppose that’s what I’m afraid of most. I’m scared of my feelings for him being too big. How he makes me feel when he looks and touches me is downright embarrassing. The way I feel now possibly can’t last forever. That wouldn’t be fair to allow someone this much intense bliss for too long. That’s not how life works.

  I slide on my clothes slower than what’s necessary to prolong what’s waiting for me on the other side of the door. Everything about him screams trouble, but I can’t resist the urge I have pulsing through my body when he’s close by. It’s in the way he looks at me as if he doesn’t see anyone else.

  I swing the door open to see Graham sitting on the bed with his textbooks spread out in front of him. He must have grabbed them out of his car. He doesn’t notice me leaning against the doorframe before I enter the room. I take the few seconds available to admire him. The way his t-shirt snugs against every muscle in his chest and biceps. The way his eyes widen when he’s thinking too hard about something. His disheveled brown hair. Everything about him is made to be appealing. I’d fallen underneath his spell willfully.

  “Doing your homework?” I observe.

  “It’s a damn good distraction,” he states with a wink making me blush without much effort.

  “Good idea.” I reach down to grab my books. “Give me a hand up?”

  He grabs my books placing them closest to the wall next to his before reaching over and grabbing my hips hoisting me over the top of him like I’m a sack of feathers. He pauses just as our bodies brush against each other then quickly depositing me on the bed. I think, okay I hope, he’s going to kiss me from the look in his eyes when we peer at each other. He resists the urge.

  Dammit, just kiss me. Screw doing homework. Calculus can wait as far as I’m concerned.

  We both work in silence not saying anything. It’s too quiet. I let out a few over exasperated sighs to try to break some of the unnecessary sexual tension that can be cut with a knife. Graham just laughs every time. I want to punch him for torturing me. A fire has been lit and it’s almost impossible to put it out when he’s sitting this close.

  I feel his touch before I see it. My palm’s facing up on the mattress between the spaces that separate us. His pinky finger skims over the sensitive skin of my wrist at first and every minute or two he’d add another finger until his entire hand is skimming over mine trying to distract me. His plan’s working.

  I run my available hand over my chest a few times to try to persuade my breathing to regulate. Graham having this effect on me isn’t a surprise. Still, I feel like a junior high love sick puppy.

  Graham lets out a soft laugh as he watches me fall into a delirium that he’s guilty of causing. He shuts the cover of his textbook pushing his notebooks forward long with them. I know what his intentions are. I choose not to move a muscle. I’m not going to give into his game that he has started. I sit quietly making an effort to pretend I don’t notice his body humming next to mine.

  He brushes my hair from my shoulder moving it gently to the side exposing my neck. He places a soft kiss on the nape. I sit silently reading the same sentence that I had started at the beginning of this charade. I feel his tongue trace along my collarbone catching all of my attention. I managed to keep myself under control until he hits that spot. The exact spot he knows will drive me mad.

  My body shivers under his lips as they release from the sensitive skin behind my ear.

  “God dammit, Graham,” I shout with my breathing uncontrollable. I throw my text book onto his pile pushing him down into the mattress. My leg swings over the top of him to straddle his hard body.

  “Why’d you have to go and do that?” I lean down kissing him along his strong jawline. His hands explore my back slipping beneath my tank top.

  “What do you mean?” Graham whispers into my ear acting innocent with a faint laugh that he’s holding back.

  I sit up glaring down at Graham who so happens to be in a fit of laughter beneath me. I slap him playfully across the chest. He works quickly to grab ahold of my wrist to hold me in place.

  “It’s embarrassing, Graham.” I admit shyly.

  “I like knowing that I can get that type of reaction from you.” And he does it again causing my body to quake against his. I can feel just how much he likes it. The evidence is budding against the spot that yearns for him to touch most. I understand what he means by feeling satisfied knowing that you are capable of making someone turned on.

  “Touch me,” I whisper into his ear catching him by surprise grabbing his hand and moving it closer to the spot where I was aching. He pulls his hand back.

  “While your parents are in the other room?” Graham questions my demand. By the look in his eyes this is just a precautionary statement. He wants to just as badly as I want him to.

  “Well if you’re not up for the challenge,” I sit up looking down at him. I subconsciously gave myself a high five for being so blunt.

  “Trust me, I’m up for the challenge. The real question is will you be able to stay quiet?” Graham flashes his impeccable smile at me.

  He pushes me off of his lap lying me down on the mattress beside him. His lips meet mine with the same eagerness that can only happen between the two of us. His hands move down my body taking his time to burn the feeling into my skin. The warmth can be felt through my thin tank top. His hand brushes against my breast on the slow descent to my shorts where I’m waiting impatiently for him.

  When he finally makes his way to the elastic band on my shorts he teases me. I lift my hips to try to urge him on. This subtle hint makes him smirk. It could have been seconds or it could have been days as far as I’m concerned. I’m learning that moments with Graham cause me to lose track of any measurement of time. I used to be concerned with structure and rules. He makes me throw all my rules out the window.

  I meet his hand as it glides over my hip placing mine over the top of his. Guiding his willing fingers with mine into my underwear, I direct him to the exact spot that’s calling to him as if it’s his own personal beacon.

  Graham’s breathing speeds up along with mine. I can feel his heart beating against my arm that’s pushed against his chest.

  He breaks our kiss. “Jesus Christ, Kennedy. What the hell?” his says with such want. He follows my silent instructions to a tee. My body quivers around his fingers as my release gets closer. He owes me after torturing me with every intentional touch and graze he delivered earlier.

  “Holy shit,” I whisper as I feel my body’s satisfying response. He kisses me on the lips quickly pulling back to take a look at me.

  “I’m going to say something and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way, but where did that come from? That was the hottest thing anyone has ever done to me,” he whispers down at me trying to keep his voice down so my parents don’t hear him.

  I blush immediately. “I think it has more to do with you than it has to do with me. Every time you touch me it’s like I can’t get enough of you.” He brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I know I should feel self-conscious from my little impromptu confession. Surprisingly, I don’t feel a hint of blush crossing my cheeks as it usually does in Graham’s presence.

  “I know what you mean,” he smiles at me. I feel my heart beat just a bit harder against my ribcage in an effort to escape into his waiting arms.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  -Graham-

  “How’s baseball?” Mr. Conrad asks before taking a long pull from his beer. So far we have managed to avoid the subject of my family. I’m thanking my lucky stars for
that. I have a feeling Kennedy will jump in to save me before her parents can dig too deep if it ever does come up. She’s protective of me. I’m not use to that.

  “Undefeated. If we can get past Oakridge this Friday then we’ll have a shot at going to the state championship,” I explain with an excitement that’s palpable. Kennedy watches me from across the table with a twinkle in her eyes as if I’m telling the most interesting story she has ever heard.

  “Oakridge’s been a hard team to beat the past few years, right?”

  “We’ll be able to hold our own against them I think. Their short-stop is out for the season after being caught drinking and driving. He’s a beast on the field, but they suspended him for the rest of the season.”

  Mrs. Conrad reaches across the table grabbing the bowl of green beans before taking a spoonful and putting them on her plate. “He’s lucky he didn’t kill someone or else he’d be rotting in jail,” her voice is full of animosity.

  Kennedy’s eyes catch my reaction to her mom’s blatant disgust. I can feel the tension that rolls off her as she forces her appraising eyes from me to her mom. She’s thinking about that night. It’s written all over her face. I know her too well now for her not to be thinking about anything else. I could have easily killed her that night, but she survived---barely survived.

  “Detective Johnson called to follow-up with you. They still have no leads on the investigation. He wants to see if you’ve remembered anything,” Mr. Conrad looks towards Kennedy who doesn’t change the expression on her face trying not to give anything away. “Have you? I left the number on the counter for you, sweetheart.”

  “Have I, what?” Kennedy looks up to her father turning her gaze around the table at all of our watchful eyes.

  “Have you remembered anything from that night?” Mrs. Conrad repeats her husband’s question.

  Kennedy drops her fork to her plate. “No, I haven’t and I’d like to forget it happened if that’s okay.” Both of her parents look across the table at each other with distraught in their eyes. They aren’t pleased with Kennedy’s complete disregard for the situation.

  “I don’t think it’s that easy, sweetie. Someone hit you and left you on a dirt road…alone.” Mr. Conrad’s words send an icy chill through my body. No one except Kennedy and me know what happened that night. Hearing someone referring to my biggest mistake only makes me feel worse. This is why I’m never going to be good enough for this girl no matter how much time passes. Once someone finds out, especially her family, I’d be thrown out of her life for good. Maybe I deserve that. I surely don’t deserve her.

  “You know you have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow? Maybe you can get that clunky cast off,” Mrs. Conrad attempts to lighten the mood with no resolve.

  “Yeah maybe.” Kennedy’s expression is as hard as granite.

  “Once the casts off will you start physical therapy on your leg?” I offer the question to anyone who’s willing to answer.

  “That’s the hope. After your surgery then maybe we can see you dance again,” Mrs. Conrad smiles in admiration of her daughter’s gift, reiterating my exact thoughts and hopes for Kennedy.

  “It’s a long shot,” Kennedy plays with her fork in the pile of green beans she has no intentions of eating. I can tell her new reality is bothering her. She sits there in the chair across from me trying not to show too much. I can see the anger piling up on her lap just waiting to tip over. Everyone has their breaking point and Kennedy’s is fast approaching.

  She pushes her chair back abruptly causing the rest of us to jump in response from the unwelcoming sound of the legs scratching against the wood floor. Kennedy storms off into her room slamming the door leaving me with just her parents who have their eyes trained on her bedroom door.

  I go to stand up from the table to check on her when Mrs. Conrad places her gentle hand on my arm.

  “Just give her a few minutes, sweetie. You’ll learn that sometimes she just needs a moment to vent on her own,” I nod in compliance not wanting to overstep her instructions.

  I continue eating the remainder of my dinner in silence as does Mr. and Mrs. Conrad. They don’t feel the need to fill the gap of silence with unnecessary chatter. Not sure of what I’m supposed to do I just stare off into a non-existent black hole. Maybe it will open up and swallow me whole. Nothing I can say to Kennedy will make this situation any easier.

  When I let my mind wander to the night of the accident Kennedy’s insistent need of protecting me is most prominent. I don’t deserve her to protect and lie for me. She chooses to do so to everyone she cares about for someone she barely knows and I still don’t understand why she would take a risk on me. How can a girl like Kennedy love someone like me? She sees something no one else ever has or has bothered to see. There’s more to me than baseball. She sees the type of person that I’m capable of being, the type of person who I want to be for her.

  When I ask her she always says she believes that there’s something inside of me that’s worth knowing. I can’t afford to believe that. There’s nothing special about me when you pull away the superficial layers. If I wasn’t born into a family of small town royalty or if I didn’t play baseball as if I’m already getting paid to do so then there’s nothing left to me. I’m blank under everything else. The only good thing I have going for me is now the girl who I nearly took everything away from.

  “I’m going to go check on her if that’s okay,” I stand waiting for them to protest. They both give me the same look. It’s sort of an acceptance, but also a warning. Almost like the one her father had given me earlier in the day.

  Walking into Kennedy’s bedroom, I find her sitting on the floor leaning against her bed frame. A few tears fall from her eyes causing a familiar ache in my chest. She tries to hide them from me once she notices me entering her room closing the door. I glance down to see a photo album sprawled out over her lap. I sit down directly beside her. Our legs graze against each other causing the familiar spark to shoot through the spot where we’re connected. I’ll never get use to that. Pulling the photo album off her lap placing it on mine I scan through the pages slowly waiting for her to object. She never does only sitting beside me allowing me a glimpse into her world.

  The first half is of her when she’s younger, maybe 3 or 4. She’s wearing these obnoxiously bright colored costumes and leotards in every photo. The one thing that doesn’t change as she grows up in front of me is her bright smile, just as it is today. Her smile radiates bliss in every photo. You can read her thoughts through her smile and every last one of them tells the same tale. Dancing is her life, the only reason why she wakes up in the morning. It’s her purpose.

  I shut the album placing it down next to me. I slowly turn to face her. She’s still staring straight ahead in deep thought.

  “Kennedy…I…” I couldn’t even get the right words out.

  “If you say you’re sorry I’m going to kick your ass,” Kennedy threatens before turning to look where I’m slouched over in defeat. Her hand finds mine squeezing it in reassurance. I don’t even need to say anything and she understands my exact thoughts.

  “This is my fault, Ken. I put you in that cast. Now I’m making you lie to your family when in reality I should be rotting in jail just like your mother said. Someone like me doesn’t deserve a free pass.” I rip my hand out of hers standing to pace around her room. I’m wearing a track through the carpet with how fast I’m moving back and forth. Kennedy keeps her eyes on me without saying anything. She’s just watching me.

  “Quit apologizing. It’s my life. My leg. My everything. You don’t get to decide what I do with it. I made a decision. I don’t regret it.” She stands to sit on the edge of her bed still keeping a watchful eye on me.

  “Fuck Kennedy, quit giving me this. I’m the reason why you can’t dance. Don’t forget that. I have to live with the fact that I stole that from you and you just sit there as if it’s not a big deal. You’re delusional if you don’t think that’s true,” my voice
rises loud enough to startle her. Kennedy clinches her fists together. I’m waiting for her to erupt, but it never happens.

  “You think I don’t know that. I understand more than anyone that dancing has come to a halt for me. I don’t get to compete this year with my dance studio. I don’t get to do any of it, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t ever again. It’s going to take time and I’m coping with that every single day,” Kennedy tries to stay calm as she talks. Releasing a long breath of air she shakes her head trying to erase her thoughts. “I think you should just leave now.” Her face stays neutral. Kennedy wants me to leave.

  Remember earlier when I said Kennedy was on the downward spiral to her breaking point. We’re there now. She can’t handle it anymore. She’s breaking.

  “Kennedy…” I whisper fearfully. Losing her wasn’t an option. Not when I just got her.

  “Graham just…go. If you don’t understand why I did what I did that night then you don’t know me or understand me at all. Please leave.” She opens her bedroom door to urge me to move. I gather my backpack walking towards the door. I stop beside her where she stands looking blankly ahead. I don’t look at her. I don’t have to. I can feel her without even reaching out.

  “I’m leaving because you asked me to, but I swear to you that me leaving is not the same as me giving up on you,” I promise.

  “Someone like you is not capable of a promise like that,” Kennedy’s voice is harsh, distant. Her words sting as they fall off of her tongue slapping me across the face. She’s mad and has every right to be.

  I walk out of Kennedy’s room thankful to skid through the front door going unnoticed by her parents. I wouldn’t know what to say to them even if I had. The cold night air hits my face as I roll down my windows backing out of the driveway. Going home isn’t an option.