“Well, that’s funny because, you know what? So am I! You need to get your shit together, Mary. This is not fair to me and it’s not fair to Ramona.” My back straightens at the mention of my name. My heart starts skipping beats.
“How dare you bring Ramona into this!” Her voice is now full on shouting.
“Keep your voice down!”
“Fine. This has nothing to do with Ramona–”
“Your voice, please.” Their voices become hushed. My face scrunches and I lean forward, focusing to hear more of their conversation.
“She…have to see…mother…You need help. You’re sick.”
“I’m trying. You don’t know…like for me…miss my job. I…nothing.” I can’t hear much but the silence after her last word is deafening. Their tension is palpable, even from all the way up here in my room.
“… have nothing, huh? It breaks…heart to hear you…We love…and…you here, but you…focus…better. At least slow…a bit. Can you try that much?” His desperate pleas have my ears straining to hear her reply.
“Yes. Going to bed now. Goodnight.” Her voice gets louder as she climbs the stairs.
A few minutes after I hear the soft click of their bedroom door, (before I can fully process what just happened) I sneak out and creep downstairs. My dad is sitting in the corner of the sofa with his hands running through his hair. He looks at me when the floorboard creaks. His eyes are black and blood shot they way mine get after an all-nighter.
“Hey, Bean,” he greets me, tiredly. His mouth tugs up in an attempt to smile but he fails. I appreciate his effort.
“I’m going to another lacrosse game with Veronica tonight. I’m leaving in a few minutes.” I walk to the record player by the TV and start shuffling through record sleeves. I was planning on leaving right away so I could give them space (and to avoid any conversation about their argument) but seeing him sitting on the sofa looking confused and exhausted gives me another idea. I have a few minutes to spare.
“Just don’t be back too late. What are you tinkering with over there?” he asks with a small hint of amusement. I can tell my plan is already working.
“You’ll see.” I carefully place the needle down onto the spinning record and then cozy up next to him on the sofa. After a couple crackling noises, the acoustic guitar starts and then Bob Dylan starts singing Baby Let Me Follow You Down[5]. He smiles.
“Good pick, sweetie.” He puts his arm around me and I lean against him. “You know, sweet Bean? You’re the coolest person I know.” I chuckle.
“Thanks, Dad.” We both start quietly mumbling along to the song.
It’s over too soon.
I force myself off the sofa and back to the record player. “I have to go but I’m going to play one last song for you and then,” I pause, focusing on replacing the record with another, “You’ll have to get up and pick your own music.” I turn to smile at him and he chuckles.
“Fair enough. Have fun. Love you.”
I walk over and kiss his head. Love you too, Dad.” As I walk out the door, I hear Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan start to sing Girl From the North Country[6].
He’ll be okay.
So will my mom.
As long as she cuts back a little, things will go back to normal eventually.
CHAPTER 14
“HOLY BALLS, IT’S FREEZING out here,” I say for the fifty-billionth time since we arrived at the game. The cold wind harshly whips our faces, painting our cheeks and noses red.
“Oh come on, you can’t even see your breath,” Veronica says, before letting out a sounding “ah” of breath to show me that our breath is unseen. She fails because her breath comes out faintly foggy. “Okay, well, you can barely see it.” I’m about to laugh and make fun of her but I get distracted.
“Oh my god, V, is that Ryan?” I ask in disbelief. I combed the crowd when we first arrived but after I spotted Daphne bouncing up and down to stay warm, I got nauseated and stopped looking. I don’t wait for Veronica to validate what my eyes are seeing because even from far away, I can tell it’s him.
He’s wearing his red and black letterman jacket that puffs up his regular build and a black knit beanie covering his golden hair. He’s sitting with two other guys who are also wearing letterman jackets. They must be fellow baseball players.
“Yeah, I think it is. Weird. Why would they come to a lacrosse game?” Veronica wonders, furrowing her eyebrows.
Butterflies immediately emerge in my stomach. There’s something exciting, hopeful even, about seeing him outside of school. I mean, technically, we are physically at school and at a school function, but it’s in a social atmosphere. It’s different than seeing him in class or during tutoring.
He’s wearing his own clothes and not a uniform. He’s sporting dark blue jeans with his usual all white Nike’s. I’m close enough to see that the cold breeze is making his eyes water and glisten. I imagine what he’s wearing under his jacket and what his hair would look like if he took his hat off. Would it be flat or would it stick up every which way?
“He’s so hot,” I mumble.
“What?” Veronica asks. She looks at me and elbows me harder than necessary. “Ramona, stop staring. People can feel when you stare at them. He’s going to turn and look at you and you’re going to get embarrassed. I’ve told you this a thousand times.”
“You mean people can feel people staring at them or do you mean me specifically?” I ask her, still staring at Ryan. He’s laughing now, elbowing his teammate.
“People, Ramona, not just you. Oh! He has it!” I can feel her standing taller next to me.
“Who has what?” I ask, silently begging Ryan to take his jacket off so I can see what he’s wearing underneath.
“The ball! Chase!” She erupts into a scream, which does two things: scares the daylights out of me and makes Ryan glance towards us.
“Oh, crap!” I turn my head towards the field and let out an encouraging clap and a “whoop,” even though I have no clue what’s happening in the game or if it’s even appropriate for me to do so.
“He’s still looking at you, Ramona,” Veronica chirps, staring straight ahead.
“You were right, I shouldn’t have stared. And you’re double right because I can still feel him looking at me.” I’m panicking. I want to look cool and suave but I have no idea how. At this point, we’re looking straight ahead like robots towards the bleachers across the field and not even at the game itself.
“It’s okay. He looked away.” I let out a visible breath of relief. “Don’t stare anymore. You should have plenty of memories by now to satisfy your needs when you’re alone in bed.” My eyes double in size and I nudge her with my shoulder.
“I can’t believe you just said that.” I manage to say in between giggles.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t do it. Everyone does,” she says, laughing and hooking her arm through mine so our elbows lock.
“I’m not denying it. I just can’t believe you said it out loud.” Our gazes are on the field even though our minds are in the gutter.
“It’s okay to talk about sex, Ramona. Don’t act like a prude because I’m certain there’s a sex demon in you just waiting to be released,” she says, cracking up.
“I assure you, there’s no demon and if there is I won’t find out until I’m good and ready,” I state confidently, or try to anyway.
She gives me an eye roll. My lack of experience makes me feel somewhat inadequate and embarrassed. A whistle blows and everyone claps and hollers as the players take their helmets off and walk to sidelines.
“What’s happening? Is it half time?”
“No, silly, the game is over,” Veronica says, her eyes on Chase. My heart rate picks up. I had this faint fantasy of talking to Ryan after the game but I seem to have misplaced my guts.
“Let’s give them a minute to get their stuff together and catch them on their way back to the locker room.”
Oh, Right. The Plan.
I take in even
breaths and prepare for either interacting with Ryan or Brett. Both are making me equally anxious. It feels like my heart keeps falling repeatedly into my stomach.
“Jeez, Ramona, you look more nervous than I do and I’m the one about to ask Chase to hang out.” She’s right. I push both Brett and Ryan out of my brain and ignite Best Friend Mode.
“It’s going to be good. Just be cool, be you. There’s no way he will say no unless he already has plans,” I say, without even realizing that we’re already at the bottom of the bleachers where the cement meets the grass. She’s nodding her head letting me know that my pep talk has been received.
Before I know it and before I’m ready to be left alone, Veronica calls out to Chase. He smiles and nods his head for her to come over to the patch of grass where he’s standing organizing his gear. She doesn’t even say goodbye to me. She just floats magically to him. I know the trance all too well.
A few awkward moments pass where I’m on the field alone.
I should do something. What should I do?
I dig through my purse to find my chapstick.
“Hey,” I hear a voice call out from behind me.
I whip around and find Brett standing there in his shorts and jersey holding his helmet and stick with his athletic bag draped over his shoulder. It looks heavy but it doesn’t seem to faze him. His hair is wet with sweat and pushed back so it’s out of his face. He looks so much bulkier in his lacrosse clothes, manlier.
I think I need a pep talk.
I try to remain calm and remember that I’m not here to argue with him or to talk to him at all and especially not here to swoon over him. I do my best to stare at him blankly.
“Did you read my note from Calc?”
I wonder why he’s talking so low and then I remember:
Daphne.
I look around to see where she is. I spot her in the parking lot waiting with her hands on her hips and an irritated look smeared across her frustratingly perfect beautiful face.
His sincere eyes make me start to feel bad for him––until he opens his mouth again.
“What did you want me to do, Ramona? Jimmy can stand up for himself,” he says, full voice.
My eyebrows closed together and my temperament begins to rapidly fire up. I’m not buying his BS. He starts to get worked up at my silence and his words come out louder and unabashed.
“It’s not my job to make sure that everyone treats him decently, Ramona. I’m sorry I upset you guys. I don’t want you to be mad. I just really don’t understand what you wanted me to do. I’m not the one that called him…that. I don’t control Jet. I know he’s a jerk but–”
My eyes burn with rage and I can only think of one thing to say so I say it in a full-bodied voice. “You are a shitty friend, Brett Dixon!”
I say it viciously enough for him to blink in surprise and loud enough for people to glance at us. I’ve never talked to anybody like this. I think this is the first time I’ve ever been so seriously angry with someone. His expression turns from shock to disdain.
“What the fuck, Ramona? I’m trying to apologize–” his voice cracks.
I’ve argued with Brett countless times when we were kids but this time, I’m not backing down.
Especially after throwing the f-bomb at me.
There’s no way I’m letting him get away with that.
“You can’t apologize when you think you’ve done nothing wrong, Brett! You can’t go around letting people treat your friends like shit and expect us not to care. Please, just…go away.” I have no concept of how loud I am talking nor do I care.
I don’t want to be near him but for some reason my feet won’t move away from him. There’s something about him that makes me inherently gravitate toward him. I’m pissed yet I still can’t move.
“That’s not what I said! God, why aren’t you listening?” He really let's it all out and yells this time.
I’m devastated, angry, disappointed and nearly growling at him.
“Hey, Bean, what’s going on?” Ryan approaches me, stands close beside me so our coats are flirting. He places his hand on the small of my back.
He’s hesitant but looks at Brett challengingly.
Holy guacamole, he’s here to back me up.
I quickly glance to find Veronica but she must have left with Chase already. That was fast. Brett straightens up his back and shoots a nasty glare from Ryan’s arm to me.
“You have got to be kidding me. Really, Ramona?” He’s seething and boring his eyes into mine. He shakes his head in obvious disgust and walks away leaving Ryan and I alone.
I let out a huge breath and feel like I might collapse.
I look around.
Only Ryan and I are left by the side of the bleachers. He turns to me, pulling me close. “You okay? I’ve never seen Brett like that. He’s always super chill.”
“I think so,” I say numbly. “I feel like I don’t even know him anymore.”
My eyes tingle and I feel them filling up but I don’t blink because I really don’t want to cry in front of Ryan.
But I have to.
I can’t contain it anymore. My heart feels like a hole has been punched out leaving a vacant spot where Brett once was.
“Hey, come here,” Ryan says, wrapping his arm around my back and pulling me to him.
I let out a sob and I’m so embarrassed that another sob spills out and before I know it I’m crying into the chest of Ryan Applebaum. His hand cradles the back of my head. My tears keep coming. I’m vanished in confusion. I want to climb inside his jacket and stay there forever.
I steady my breath, squeeze my eyes shut and focus on the intense sense of security I feel in Ryan’s embrace. He smells like citrus and fresh mint and it makes my mouth water. I lift my head up to find his mystical eyes looking down at me.
I don’t know who moves first but suddenly, I feel his lips on me and it’s warm, sloppy and salty from my tears. It’s a messy kiss but it makes my heart miraculously blossom.
We break apart but remain within inches of each other. He looks down at me, stroking my cheek. His gray eyes are like the calm after a storm and I can’t help but feel protected.
“Can I take you home?” he asks. I blush and nod.
This is the best worst night I’ve ever had.
***
WE ARE SITTING IN front of my house with the porch light casting a shadow through the car windows and on to Ryan’s face. Once the car got warm, he took his hat off. I’m not sure how it’s possible but his hair is fully intact, not flat or sticking up everywhere.
So unfair.
He unfastens his seatbelt and takes his jacket off. I finally get to see that he’s wearing a long sleeve black and white baseball tee. It’s slim fitting and the sleeves are snug around his muscles. We are sitting in silence and it’s getting awkward. I really have no idea what to say but I also am not ready to walk away from him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He breaks the silence.
It’s so sweet of him to ask, but the last thing I want to talk about with Ryan, is Brett.
“No. Thanks though.” I muster up the ounce of courage I have left to look in his smoky eyes. His expression is soft until he sucks in a breath and it turns hesitant. I want to kiss him before he can tell me that we shouldn’t have kissed in the first place, that it was a fluke and a mistake but I can’t seem to move.
I lift my head to look at him and his lips are suddenly smashed onto mine, kissing me full and hard. After a moment of shock, I kiss him back. The kisses become deep and hurried. His hand slides into my jacket. He brings his hand to the middle of my back and pulls me closer to him. My hands travel down his chest. The fabric of his t-shirt soft like he’s worn it a hundred times.
He kisses up my jaw and starts sucking on my neck.
I gasp.
I’ve imagined exploring his body countless times but I never imagined that it would feel this incredible.
I have no idea if I’m good at any of t
his and truthfully, I don’t care.
I’ve only ever kissed one boy before: Alan Walcott and it was a stupid game of spin the bottle in eighth grade.
And in all fairness, Ryan doesn’t seem to be complaining.
I feel harder pressure from his mouth on my neck and an involuntary soft moan sneaks out past my throat. I’m embarrassed, but Ryan sucks in a breath and goes back to kissing me. His hand slides up my side and brush across my chest. This feeling is so intense it’s starting to scare me. I’ve never had anyone touch me this way.
I know all of our clothes are still on, but it’s too much.
Too much has happened today.
I shouldn’t be doing this with a foggy head.
I break from his lips and push his chest gently away with the pads of my palms.
“I’m sorry, I can’t–I just–I should probably–go,” I stammer through my heavy breaths. I’m looking at him but am already reaching my right hand behind me to find the door handle.
His lips are puffy and face is flushed. “Sorry, I got a little carried–”
“No, no, no,” I say hurriedly so he doesn’t think he did something wrong. He didn’t do anything wrong at all. In fact, he did a lot of things right –– really right. “It’s not that. It was just, just... really fast. I wasn’t expecting this.”
I’m a blabbering fool. He must know now that I’m a complete, inexperienced virgin. I’m the total opposite of someone confident and experienced like Daphne. How could I forget that he dated her for like a month last year?
My mind is clouding and I’m starting to panic.
“You’re right. I wasn’t expecting this to happen either, to be honest.” I slump into sadness at the thought that he might not actually want me. “I promise I don’t take advantage of girls who are...”
“Under emotional duress?” I offer.
He chuckles and says, “Yes, that.” I nod my head and look down. “Ramona, I like kissing you.” A grin starts to spread across my face while I’m scratching my cuticles on my lap.
Maybe I don’t have anything to worry about after all.
“I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
I nod. He returns a faint smile as I climb out of his car. I detect a guilty look in his ashen eyes.
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