Chapter Seven

            I don’t want to talk about it.

            I don’t want to think about it.

            To keep myself from doing either of those things, I think about exactly what I’m going to say to the coach. He’s always liked me. Whenever the boys got lazy around the house or summer, I kept them on their toes. I made sure they’d be ready for the new season next year. I was his eyes when he wasn’t around and he always made sure to tell me how grateful he was whenever he saw me.

            “You call that running?!” I hear the coach screaming before I even turn the corner into the hall where the gym room takes up residence.

            “Run as a unit or run fifteen more laps alone.”

            I nudge the door and he’s so keen on his surroundings he’s already facing me.

            “I thought I’d try to catch you off guard,” I say breaking out in smile.

            “Never. This is my house. If a man doesn’t know who’s in his house at all times, it’s not his house.”

            I laugh.

            “So what can I do ya’ for?” he asks turning back to the guys who are already on the team.

            “When are this year’s tryouts?”

            He takes a quick look at me then back to his life’s work.

            “Why? You tryin’ out for the team?”

            “C’mon, Coach P. I think I got some new talent for you.”

            “Is that so?”

            He comes to stand with me but of course, he’s angled so that he can still see the team.

            “His name’s William Slaughter. I kind of just met him but you know that I know a football player when I see one.”

            “Mm hmm.”

            “He plays wide receiver. Not anyone can play that position but from his body type and his physical health, he looks like he can play it and play it well.”

            “Were you checking out his ‘body type and physical health’ for me or for you?”

            I have to stop blushing.

            “I don’t want you looking at any boys, Kendall. You know how I feel about you dating.”

            “Yes, daddy.”

            “Now, you bring me this William Slaughter and I’ll run some test to see if he’s worthy to be on my team.”

            “I wouldn’t bother if he wasn’t.”

            “True. Bring him early tomorrow morning and we’ll see. If he can impress me in the morning, he’s something special.”

            “Okay.”

            “Julian!”

            I can’t meet his eyes as he runs over.

            “Yeah, Coach?”

            “I said ‘Julian’ not ‘team’.”

            I shake my head as he watches the team reluctantly jog back onto the indoor track.

            “I need you to be here early tomorrow so that we can test out this possible recruit.”

            “Who is it?” he inquires dripping sweat and out of breathe.

            “Uh, it’s Will.”

            “Will plays football? Of course he does.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively before I can stop myself.

            “It doesn’t mean anything. We’ll talk later.”

            “Where have I heard that before?”

            He scoffs and I dismiss myself before we can get into it.

            I turn my back on him and add this moment to my ever growing list of things I’m not thinking about nor do I want to talk about. 

            The door is visible. The sun is shining through the glass highlighting all the dust and whatever else it is that the janitors try so profusely to rid this educational facility of.

            “Hello, world.”

            “Hi, Kendall.”

            I cringe when Coach Daye cuts off my passage of escape.

            “Hi, Coach Daye.”

            “So, have you been thinking about what we talked about last year?”

            “Only a bit. I’ve got a lot going on in my life and Track and Field doesn’t fit anywhere. When I have everything sorted out, which will probably be in college, then I’ll think about running.”

            “I want you to run for Napa Valley High.”

            “And I would love nothing more than to run for my high school and get the college world to notice me athletically. But I just can’t right now. I’m sorry, Coach Daye.”

            I walk around him and into the light. When I’d left the gym, the light was a warm, welcoming ray of sunshine that promised to only brighten my day. But after talking to Coach Daye, the light is once more a constant reminder that someday soon, I may be walking into that light never to return again.

            I let the light take me, partially hopeful that this time will be the last. However, seeing Dex outside waiting for me cruelly reassures me that it’s not.

            “How was the day? Did you make those good choices we talked about?”

            “Sorta. My day was…up and down mostly. I’m feeling pretty drained.”

            He reaches back and drops a Monster energy drink in my lap.

            “You’re the best,” I say opening it and taking a hearty gulp.

            “I know. Now, what make this day so wishy-washy?”

            “Well, for one, Coach Daye approached me again about the track team.”

            “I don’t understand why you don’t just join.”

            “I’ve got enough going on in my life.”

            “Such as?”

            I don’t know which pains me more: that I can’t just tell Dex what’s going on or that he doesn’t know from being around me so often. He should be able to tell when I’m hurting. He knows me too well to not know that something’s not right at home. Some days I want to tell him. Other days, I hate him for not seeing the signs.

            “Such as things I don’t ever care to discuss with anyone at all.”

            “Not even your Uncle Dex, huh?”

            “Not even you, Dad.”

            I know how to make him drop it. He loves when I call him “Dad” but it’s not like he’s territorial about me when it comes to my real father. He just appreciates how close we are and he likes when I remind him that I feel the same way.

            “So am I taking you home?”

            “Yeah. I need a shower and a nap.”

            “You still not sleeping at night?” he questions, concerned.

            “No. Call me an insomniac.”

            When we pull up to my house he turns to me.

            “You’re still thinking about your mom, aren’t you?”

            “Another thing I don’t care to talk about. Ever.”

            I get out without looking at Dex. I can’t meet his eyes. I feel like I’m about to cry. So much has gone on today. Will and I aren’t just friends anymore. I can’t even deny it. Julian and I are kind of friends again but he wants to pick up where he left off. He and Will recognize that I’ll only be with one of them yet they both expect to be able to put up with each other well enough to bring home a championship. This is all happening so fast I haven’t really had time to register it yet.

            I think I’ll go for a run before I take that shower and nap. He’ll be home tonight. He can’t go two whole days without seeing my face. I want to be wide awake when he steps foot in this house.

            In my room, I peel away today’s clothing along with its events and I put on dark grey jogging pants, a black tank top, and black Nike running shoes.

            As soon as the bottom of my shoes hit the soil in the vineyard behind the house, I’m free. There’s nothing but open air and space behind my house. When I’m inside that house, there’s a looming cloud over my head but when I hit the dirt out back, I break away from the cloud. I’m able to outrun it. It can’t bring me down. That cloud holds within it everything that makes me so meek. It houses my fear, my anxieties, my nightmares, my death. The cloud’s dark and grey from the tears I’ve shed, darker in some spots from the worse bruises I’ve hidden, heavy with the weight of my world.

            Just when my spirits lift and I become only somewhat optimistic, it rains down on me. It rains down flashes of beatings that I’ve taken. It rains down possible beatings if he were to find out certain things. It rains down glimpses of future abandonment if I were to reveal to someone my soul. It reminds me that I’m not wanted by anyone. No one will bother with me. Not one sees me. I mean nothing to anyone. No one loves me.

            My heart is pumping and I can feel every ounce of blood coursing through me. It feels good. My heart rate is up and I think of Will and what he does to my heart when I’m with him. It wasn’t love at first sight for me so I don’t know what to call it. He’s got me so rattled. Half of the time that I’m with him I’m not even thinking about my crummy home life. All I’m thinking about is Will. What will he say next? What will he get me to say next?

            By the time I get all the way to the back, the end of the vineyard and the beginning of the forest, I want to hear his voice, his laugh. On the run back, I think about going to Stone’s to see him but he said he’d call me and I don’t want him getting excited that I came to see him in particular.

            The tank top is off when I step onto the back porch.

            Ella must be here cooking dinner because the house smells great. She’s in the kitchen moving about.

            “Hi, Ella.”

            “Oh, Sammy.”

            She calls me by my middle name. Samantha.

            “I thought you were upstairs slaving over your school work as usual.”

            Ella is fifty years-old. Her hair is already changing; silver up front and then it goes back into the black that hasn’t changed yet. She doesn’t look her age at all. Her skin is a milky dark brown, no wrinkles and her shining black eyes lets you know that she means business most of the time.

            Her eyes are beautiful but they are what cause me the most uneasiness.

            “You father didn’t come home last night.”

            “Nope.”

            “How’d you sleep?”

            “Well.”

            “That’s good. What did you eat today?”

            “Not much. Corn beef on rye. Chips.”

            “It’s a good thing I’m making something with plenty of vegetables in it.”

            I smile.

            “How have you been?”

            “You mean since I last saw you two days ago? I’ve been okay.”

            “Just okay?”

            “I’ve been well.”

            “Has everything been okay with your father?”

            That’s what I mean right there. Her eyes have so much experience that they see through me and every lie I feed to her. She never calls me on it because she understands that it’s nothing I want to speak on. It’s an internal thing. She just makes sure she’s here for me.

            “Things have been better.”

            “Go get cleaned up. Then come down and eat then you can have that nap I know you were going to take.”

            “Okay.”

            I leave behind the kitchen and her knowledge of my current predicament. She knows he beats me. If not, she’s got a clue that he does. Every now and then I’d have to stay home from school and whenever she came to wash or cook or whatever she thought needed to be done, and she found me in my room curled up in my bed under my cover, she knew. She’s seen my bruises first hand. She’s cleaned me up, bandaged me up, iced me up. You don’t sustain those kinds of injuries without your guardian knowing. And if they did know and weren’t by your side, they did or allowed it to happen.

            I’m not sure if my father’s aware of her familiarity with this conundrum but either way, he almost certainly wouldn’t care as long as she didn’t say anything to anyone.

            In the shower, the cold water feels good on my hot skin.  Furthermore, in a very perverted turn of events, my thoughts travel back to Will. I try to think of other things: movies I like, music I like, how little homework I have to do due to my thirst for additional intelligence. But Will, he’s all I can think about. I hate it. I don’t want him occupying my thoughts. I don’t want him on my mind twenty four, seven. That puts me in a bad fix. It’s like, if all I can do is think about him in this good light, he can do no wrong. He can do what he wants and I wouldn’t care or defend myself. That’s not what I need right now. I already have that with my dad.

            My cloudy thinking gets me out of the shower faster than I would have preferred. I put on as little as possible so that I can feel the cool evening air that should be blowing in any second. I gather up what’s left of my homework and sit at the island. Ella sits a plate in front of me and I don’t hesitate. She has the best cooking ever. I fly through the homework and the food even though she scolds me to slow down.

            “You might want to cover up that back tattoo before he gets home. And while you’re at it, the one on your arm, too.”

            I immediately run upstairs and put on a long sleeve shirt just a bit disappointed that the air won’t hit me the way I’d like.

            I see the front door opening as I’m coming down the stairs.

            When he steps in and sees me he breaks out in a grin as if I am his everything.

            “Hey, Dilly Dally,” he hails using my pet name.

            He rubs my hair to my neck and kisses the top of my head.

            “Hi, Daddy. How was your day?”

            “It was great. Thanks for asking.”

            I suppose that moments like these are why I stick it out in this Flying in Place styled relationship minus the sexual contact.

            “How was your day, sweety?”

            “It was fine. Coach Daye asked me to join the team again.”

            “He knows skill when he sees it. I think you should do it.”

            He doesn’t mean that. He’s just high on some form of happiness. I’ll bet he met another woman. If I joined the team, he’d flip. There is no way he’d let me go to other cities where there are boys whose parents he doesn’t know. He’d never let me spend the night out of town where he can’t be there in person to monitor me, to punish me where he sees fit. Its one thing for him to work all night and assume I’m home, which, for the most part, I am. But for me to be somewhere he’s not; in a town where he isn’t, that simply won’t do.

            When we walk into the kitchen and Ella sees his arm around me, she rolls her eyes and she is not discreet about it.

            “Good evening, Ella. Whatever you’ve made smells really good.”

            “It is, daddy.”

            “Weren’t you going to take a nap, Sammy?”

            I know what she’s doing. She wants me to take the nap while she’s here that way she can insure that I get some good rest uninterrupted.

            “Is your homework done?” my father asks.

            “Yes. I watched her do it while she ate right here in front of me.”

            “Alright. Don’t get too much rest though. You want to be able to get some descent sleep tonight for school tomorrow.”

            “Okay. See you tomorrow, Ella?”

            “I got in late today so I may come in for the laundry tomorrow.”

            “Cool.”

            I leave them to talk about who knows what; Ella contemptuously and my father in light conversation.

           

            I’ll be getting off work soon. The whole time I’ve been thinking about the different outcomes that could come of this talk with Kendall.  I wonder if she’s looking forward to talking to me. I hope she is. I hope she likes me as much as I like her.

            I can’t tell with her. She’s so good at being objective that you never know. She was so unlike anything I’d seen from her when I made it known that I wanted something more with her. I didn’t know how to react. She seemed more open and exposed.

 Her behavior, as far as I know, was to protect her emotional person. I wanted so badly to be sure that I wouldn’t hurt her but who could be sure of something so capricious? No one could. If I was to hurt her would she take into consideration the effort I put into preventing her pain?

I’m overanalyzing this whole thing. I’m asking myself questions that I could just ask her. I want to be straight with her about everything.

Another thing is she has football player brothers and a sibling natured brother bartender who I’m sure can be significantly dangerous should the need arise. Smarting Kendall’s heart shouldn’t be my only concern. There’s so much to weigh in if I get into this thing with Kendall. “If”? No, there was no “if” about the matter. There is much to reflect on going into this with Kendall.

“Will! Pack it up. Get home before it gets too late.”

I acknowledge Stone to let him know that I’ve heard him.

I grab my things from the back, say goodbye to everyone and head out. Patricia’s already out here waiting for me. My parents don’t know the town that well yet so they don’t want me waiting anywhere for anyone or anything. Not until they get to know Napa a little better.

“This is such an annoyance to have to come and get you. You need to get a car.”

“Yeah. Because you have one.”

“Whatever. Where’s your ‘ride’?”

“Didn’t come in today. Besides, I don’t want to start depending on people I’ve just met anyway.”

“Aren’t you the golden boy?”

“Pretty much.”

She muffs me playfully.

“So, dad told me that you’re going to join the football team.”

“Yeah, so?”

“What about your art?”

“I can still draw. I just miss the game, the camaraderie.”

“You just be careful out there, okay?”

I smile, “Okay.”

“I’m serious, Willy.”

“Do not…call me that.”

“Then pinky swear.”

I do because I know it’ll ease her mind to some extent.

At home, she lingers while I take off my shoes at the door but then she pretends we didn’t just have an “I like my sibling” moment and goes about her business.

I head up to my room and work my way through today’s load of homework. It takes me about an hour. I ate at Stone’s but I’m a growing boy and need sustenance more often. So, after slamming five bowls of Froot Loops and brushing my teeth like she’ll be able to smell my breath, I dial her number.

It’s ringing. That’s a good sign. She gave me the right number…or a number.

On the other hand, it’s still ringing. I check the clock. It’s not that late. Nine o’clock. She does be on top of her game so maybe she also goes to sleep early so she’ll be well rested for school.

I’m about to hang up when I hear the line click.

“Hello?” I say.

The line is quiet. I don’t know if I should hang up or not.

“Kendall?”

I hear moans and groans. As a consequence to these…appealing sounds I’m definitely about to hang up but then I hear it. It’s faint. Nonetheless, I hear it.

“Will?”

I’m flipping out in my head because her sleepy voice is sexier than her woke voice which is the case nine out of ten times. I find this shocking, though, because her woke voice is already vastly hot.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Hey.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“What time is it?”

“Nine o’clock.”

I need her to either tell me she’ll talk to me later or wake up because her sleepy voice isn’t really working for my libido.

“No. You caught me at the perfect time. I would’ve been getting up soon anyway.”

“Getting up?”

“I was taking a nap.”

“This late?”

“I went to sleep around five.”

“I’m confused.”

“I’m a nocturnal semi insomniac which is a disorder I made up. I don’t sleep at night. It’s not really an option.”

“That sucks.”

“Not really. It works for me.”

I hear her moving around on her side. What’s she wearing?

“Uh! How was the homework for you?” I shake my head. I’m stumbling for something to say. I’m usually so much cooler than this.

“What’s the problem, Will?” I hear a smile in her voice.

“There is no problem. I assure you.”

“Whatever you say.”

She sounds more lively but still sleepy. Oh, well. I guess I’ll just have to deal with it if I want to talk about us.

“What are you doing over there?”

She hesitates, “Honestly?”

“Of course.” Maybe I should have said no to that.

“I’m taking off my shirt and heading onto my balcony.”

“You have a balcony?”

“Yeah. It overlooks the pool and estate.”

“Estate?!”

“Let’s not talk about money, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, what’s up? What do you want to talk about?”

“Us,” I say without pause. Kudos to me.

She goes quiet but I hear her light breathing.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of late to be talking about this?” she poses.

“Late for who? Definitely not you.”

“Late for you then.”

“I can stay up as long as it takes for us to resolve this.”

She sighs. “What do you want from me, Will?”

I can’t take her attitude seriously because she sounds so great and feisty.

“I want you to tell me how you really feel about me.”

“What makes you-

“The way you held my hand at lunch. The way you let me comfort you after Chemistry. The way you waited for me after geometry class. The fact that you gave me your number to call you tonight to talk about this very thing.”

“So what? Those were all impulsive things. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Stop shutting down on me, Kendall. I told you. I care about you. I won’t hurt you.”

“You don’t know that!”

There it is. The apprehension.

“I know you don’t want to put your heart out there but I’ll take care of it. You do trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes. But it’s a whole ‘nother thing to trust a friend then it is to trust a boyfriend. If a friend hurts you, it’s not so bad. It hurts but it’s nothing you can’t come back from. But if my boyfriend, the person who’s supposed to get me, to be there for me, to catch; if he hurts me…” she goes quiet.

“Kendall?”

“I’m still healing, okay.”

She sounds flustered and that’s not what I wanted.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

I hear the wind on her side and see the leaves on the tree outside my window move. It makes me feel connected to her. It makes me certain that we’re on the same plane.

“Will?”

It shouldn’t do this to me every time she says my name. That should be a onetime thing.

“I’m here.”

“You won’t let me down?”

“I said I wouldn’t.”

“You can’t possibly fathom how hard this is for me.”

“You’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever been hurt like you have.”

“I pray that you never do.”

“Will, who are you talking to?” I hear my sister say.

“None of your business. Get away from my door and go to sleep.”

“You’re on the phone?”

“Seriously. Go away. Hold on, Kendall.”

I go open my door. “What is your problem?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Well, just get lost. I’m not kidding, Trish.”

“Fine.”

She walks away and slams her door.

“Go to bed,” I hear my dad shout drowsily from behind his closed door.

            I close my door, turn my light out and get into bed.

            “You still there?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Sorry about that.”

            “It’s okay.”

            “So?”

            “I like you, Will. I wouldn’t mind being your girlfriend.”

            I laugh, “You wouldn’t mind? You make it sound like a burden.”

            “I don’t mean to. I would like to be your girlfriend.”

            “But?”

            “No but.”

            “How about this, we could chill together and act like a couple until you’re entirely ready to make it official.”

            “What does ‘chilling’ entail?”

            “I get to tell you how good you look, some subtle physical affection like putting my arm around you. Everything we would do if we were a couple or whatever you’re comfortable with.”

            She’s silent again.

            “What do you think, Kendall?”

“I think you’re being very patient.”

            “Some of the best things in life are worth waiting for. That goes double for love in my book.”

            “Love.”

            “Still skeptical?”

            “Quite.”

            “Not for long.”

            “We’ll see. So, what should I expect when I see you at school tomorrow?”

            “For starters? A hug.”

            “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

            “And I smell really good.”

            She laughs and it feels good to hear because it means that, not only is she relaxing, but she’s cool with the outcome of this talk.

            “Now, what should I expect?” I ask.

            “As far as what?”

            “As far as Julian.”

            I can practically feel the brief lightheartedness disappear.

            “Julian isn’t a problem,” she says.

            “Julian thinks that he has a chance with you. He needs to know that he doesn’t.”

            “I thought you and I were only ‘chilling’. Why should he have to know anything?”

            “He’s going to see us. It’s the fair thing to do. Why have him chasing something that’s unattainable?”

            “He isn’t a threat.”

            “I’ll say it like this then, I’d feel better if you made it perfectly clear to him that it’s you and me, not him and you.”

            “Will, you don’t understand. Even if I tell him that I’ve chosen you, he’s not going to give up.”

            “Then it becomes my problem. If you’ve done all you can and he still isn’t backing off, it becomes your boyfriend’s problem. If he’s still coming after you, I’ll handle it.”

            “No. You have to handle football.”

            “Don’t worry. I know how to be civilized.”

            “Boys cannot be civilized when it comes to a girl.”

            “True. True. Just leave it to me, okay?”

            “If you say so.”

            “I do.”

            “Anyway, you might wanna get some sleep because you have to come to the school at least an hour to an hour and a half early so Coach P can get a look at your athleticism.”

            “Cool. Cool.”

            “I’ll be there too since I’m vouching for you.”

            “Even better.”

            I hear her giggle. It’s cute.

            “Goodnight, beautiful.”

            “Goodnight, Will.”