Page 94 of Catching Kyle
“You just seem… distant.”
I frown. “I’m just tired,” I say. “The game took a lot out of me. My knees are sore, and I know I should be putting ice on it. I’ll have to do that tomorrow.”
“I’d stay and help,” he says. “But I have my shift at Ruckers tomorrow.”
Too tired to respond, I let my eyes drift shut. Then Michael moves, startling my eyes open. He turns around and looks at me, my nightstand lamps giving his face an orange glow.
“I should have said this sooner,” he says.
My stomach sinks to the floor. Is he breaking up with me? But if he was, that would solve all my problems. Why do I feel sick to my stomach then?
“I think the stress of the season is getting to both of us,” I say. “Maybe you and I should take a vacation. Together.”
The pain in my chest subsides. He’s not breaking up with me.
“A vacation?”
“Yeah,” he says, talking a little more excitedly. “Like between one of your games and practices. We can get away from the city for a little bit.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “It would have to be brief.”
“It doesn’t even have to be more than a day,” he says. “The holidays are coming up. I know the Tigers aren’t playing on Thanksgiving.”
I chew on my lips. “You wanna do Thanksgiving together?”
His brow curls. “Why wouldn’t I?”
More than I want to push him away, I want him to pull away himself. I can’t bear to see him hurt, let alone be the one to hurt him. But he knows thiscan’t work long term. Doesn’t he? He has to. If I’ve learned anything playing in the NFO with a secret relationship the past sixth months, it’s that this is not sustainable. Someone’s gonna find us out sooner or later.
“I usually spend it with my ma if I’m free,” I say.
He waits for a beat, then deflates. “I see.”
“Come on,” I say, rubbing his hand. “We can talk more about this in the morning.”
Michael turns around without saying anything. I wrap my arms around him, but he doesn’t hold them like he usually does. He’s even holding his body away from me, as if I’m made of thorns. Guilt floods my chest again. I mean, I practically am made of thorns right now, aren’t I? Making my words and demeanor all prickly like this?
Eventually, he drifts off, and the pain in my chest subsides enough to let me sleep.
My dreams are frenzied. I’m at a game. On the field. I need to score. But I also need to find Michael. Something tells me that he’s far, far away. With some guy? Probably. I run and run, but the turf just expands beneath my feet, keeping me in place.
Then I’m tackled. Another guy piles on me, then another. And suddenly, I’m swallowed up, unable to breathe. I hear my daddy’s voice. Nothing specific. Just angry. Yelling.
“Michael!” I choke out.
And then I startle awake. I’m laying on my belly, so no wonder I can’t breathe. I get back on my side and reach out for Michael.
But he’s not there.
My eyes shoot open, and I look around. Rain is falling outside, pattering against the window. I hear the sound of water trickling in the bathroom. Then it stops.
“Michael, where are you?”
I hear the toilet flush and the sink run. Then Michael comes out of the bathroom.
“Right here,” he says.
I feel my eyes heat up and my lips quiver. I open my arms. “Come get in bed.”
