Page 39 of The Curve
7
Atticus
She’s the curveball I wasn’t expecting. One pitched so skillfully I didn’t see it till it had already changed the game. Confidence has never been in short supply for me. More than anything I was sure I knew what made me happy. Hell, I knew it young. And never have I wanted a permanent relationship. That seemed like the fastest way to fuck everything up.
I liked being balls deep in a different girl whenever the mood struck me. It was great planning my days and nights according to my schedule and no one else’s. Even time spent alone was good, eating in bed, watching sports and farting freely. The male trifecta.
You’re only young once, and I’ve made the best of it. But something’s changed. My father always says life’s one big puzzle, where seemingly random pieces fit together seamlessly. Think he’s got a point.
I’m beginning to see a lot of things differently because of Charlotte. The world around me, my definition of happiness, even myself.
There’s a hundred little things she’s made of that I find I can’t live without. Like how it feels when she sighs my name against my shoulder, or when her feet brush against mine under the sheets. And how she tastes when her lips steal the end of my sentences.
There’s something poetic about the woman. How was I to know that’s a quality I’d be able to identify let alone prize?
We talk a lot. For hours sometimes, about our lives, Mallory, baseball. About everything and anything. Life slows to a crawl as we just sit and talk. It’s unbelievable how I’m beginning to forget what it was like before she was in my life. And it’s only been two months since I first saw her across that crowded room.
I’ve got it bad.
Today will be interesting. With Charlotte having to work, Mallory’s my date to the pool party. Paige is coming with Brick, so she’ll have another friend there. I told her we could bug out any time we wanted. Endorsement clients always throw good parties, trying to show off the athlete they’ve signed as their spokesperson, and Midas Pizza’s up today.
Mallory and I like to bust each other’s chops, but we’re kind of kindred spirits. The tenderness I feel for her is genuine, and if we would have met under different circumstances, without Charlotte by her side, I would have come to the same conclusions about her character.
There’s some similarities between us. Neither likes any kind of bullshit, not from other people or ourselves. We find the same things laughable. We’re realists. We don’t put up with fools, or find humor taken at another’s expense.
I think we’ve relaxed into our relationship. It’s not overstating things to say we’re friends. But the only experience I have as an adult relating to a thirteen-year-old girl is as a sports celebrity. That hardly counts. And she’s never been around other men in her mother’s life. So we go slow, coming carefully toward each other.
As I’m walking up to Charlotte’s apartment, I see Mallory peeking out the curtains. They close and a moment later the door opens.
“Hi,” she says stepping out and closing the door behind her.
She carries a tote bag and she’s wearing a cute short sleeveless dress.
“Hi. Like your dress. Looks pretty.”
She comes by my side as we walk back to the car.
“Mom made it for me.”
“Got your suit?”
“I’m wearing it under the dress. But I may not go swimming. We’ll see.”
I come to a stop. “What? Why not?”
She continues walking but looks over a shoulder at me. “Because I might not feel like it.”
I take the hint and shut up. Funny, but I heard her mother’s strength in her statement.
* * *
“Wanna go fast?”I say.
A smile breaks out on her pretty face. “Yeah! Do it!”
I put the pedal to the metal and the ferocious Ferrari sound punctuates the quiet of the road leading toward the Midas Estate. Mallory’s hands grip the seat and she squeals with delight as I take the straightaways between curves.
“Fun, huh?” I say returning to a normal speed. “It won’t be long and you’ll be driving. Three years goes by pretty fast.”
