Page 55 of Tell Me Softly
I’d had an ugly fight with my brother the night before. Normally we just argued about stupid shit or sometimes about our mom. But over a girl? Never…
Of course there had been petty jealousies. Over the summer at the beach, we’d run into some hot chick and neither of us knew which one she really liked. I have to admit, it was usually me. My brother was good-looking—I couldn’t ignore that—but he was always so cold. That bitter sense of humor and that hard expression that concealed so much turmoil eventually got people down. I had always been more relaxed, a joker, the class clown. I could win girls over with my stupid remarks, and I knew how to get on people’s good sides with gifts of candy and flowers. I saw life differently from Thiago. I just couldn’t waste my time being upset. I always knew pessimism and bad memories would get me nowhere, and he was always an example of what could happen if you let them take over.
Kami…she made me happy. She made my heart race. She made me want to pamper her, protect her, take care of her. Not that she couldn’t look out for herself. It’s just that she awakenedthis protective instinct in me that I’d never been able to develop at home because my brother had been the strong, powerful one. He took care of everything with Mom: cheering her up when she was down, making sure she took her medications, consoling her during long, dark nights when her memories and worries were eating her up inside.
Kami was the person I had been responsible for. When we were little, she always came to me when she got scared. Mine was the hand she held to be sure neither of us fell into the creek behind our house. I was the one she asked for opinions about her drawings. I was the one she picked for her side when we played games, and that—well, dammit, it made me feel special.
And I wasn’t about to let anyone come between us. We kissed. It was intense. It was special. Maybe she might have expected something more romantic, but there in the dark, with everyone around us…you couldn’t say that wasn’t special.
And I wanted to do it again.
Seeing her this morning with that jerk-off Danny had nearly made me lose it. Danny Walker…what a joke. I thought we were rid of him for the season, then here come his parents with a big pile of cash, and all of a sudden, he’s back on the team. At least he was no longer captain. That was me now. My teammates had been unanimous because of how I’d played in games and taken the lead when Danny was out. I knew that was going to cause problems, but what the hell did I care?
I was better than Danny Walker. That was a fact.
I was headed to the office, but when I passed Ms. Denell’s room, I saw she was in, so I knocked at the door. She waved me in, and I handed her the paper that outlined our project on “Myths of Female Sexuality.”
I couldn’t imagine how I would work on that project with Kami without thinking of sex the whole time. But then, were weeven going to work on it together? I could imagine her coming to me and saying,It would be best if I work on one part and you work on the other… The idea upset me.
She was the reason things had gotten so ugly with my brother the day before. He’d intentionally tried to hurt me, hadn’t hesitated to strike below the belt, trying to make me think there was something wrong with my feelings for Kami. And it had almost worked. For a moment, he’d made me think that it was her fault that we’d lost our old life and that not blaming her made me a bad person. I even regretted sending her that message. But then I saw her this morning…
She had pulled her hair back with a colorful hairband that caught the light, and she was prettier than ever. I saw blame in her brown eyes outlined in mascara, but I saw longing there too when she decided to jump in between me and her ex. And I knew then that all my brother’s talk was just bullshit.
He wasn’t going to keep me away from her.
He could forget about that.
***
The day was flying by quickly. There was excitement in the air: everyone was stoked about the game but more so about a weekend away from our parents, ready to do whatever. I know I was.
The bus was departing after lunch, so I’d miss math and English. I was happy for the break, but I was especially happy to miss a day of detention. I stopped in the restroom to wash my hands on my way to the cafeteria, and as I was drying off, Victor Viani came in.
“Hey, Di Bianco!” he said, throwing his arm over my shoulders and leaning in. “Drinks on the bus?” he asked. I laughed. I liked the sound of that.
“Are you really asking?” I responded. I already had a flask ofrum in my backpack and a bottle of Coke to mix it with. Victor smiled, punched me on the shoulder, and went on to the next person.
They were serving pizza that day, and I was starving. I winked at the lunch lady to get a second slice. Kami was a few places ahead of me in line, and she’d passed on the pizza, asking for nothing but a serving of the sad excuse for a salad that counted as our vegetable portion.
“Babe, your body needs something more than that,” I said, coming up behind her and startling her a bit. “Otherwise you might up and blow away.”
“Maybe…” she said. “But I could say the opposite to you. You’ve got a game tomorrow—is all that pizza really the best thing? What would your coach say?”
“I need the carbs. Anyway, I can eat what I want; there’s not an ounce of fat on me.” I pulled up my shirt and showed her my six-pack. “See this? One hundred percent muscle.”
“Whatever,” she said and walked past me to her table. I followed her and asked, “Word has it we’re organizing a little party in the back of the bus. Are you in?” I whispered in her ear just before she sat down at a table of girls who were chatting so loudly we could hardly hear. I grabbed the chair next to her just as she frowned and responded, “If by party you mean getting shitfaced on cheap liquor and warm soda, I’ll pass.” She speared a leaf of lettuce and brought it to her lips.
“Damn! Don’t be so boring! I know it must have hurt your feelings when I massacred you at pool, but that doesn’t mean you have to turn into a goody two-shoes. And honestly, you’re fun when you’re tipsy.”
“First of all,” she said, “I’m the one who beat your ass, remember?”
I smiled and shook my head. “Sorry,” I said, “probably allthese carbs are giving me memory problems.” I picked up my first slice of pizza and stuffed half of it into my mouth.
“And second: I don’t drink before games.”
I pretended to be disappointed. “Who’d have thought a girl with five million hours of detention ahead of her was secretly so responsible?”
“Stop trying to lead me down the wrong path.” She laughed.
