Page 14 of Sweet Girl
Chapter Five
Kylah
Four Weeks Later
Returning to school after my week long break was a difficult transition – maybe even more so than my first week of school. I felt a longing – and a loss – that I’d never felt before. Homesickness, sure. But this emotion was different. And it was all due to Van.
I’d made a decision on my travel back to California. Even though it would likely kill me, I’ve decided that it is better to have Van as my friend than not to have him in my life at all. So friend-zoned it is. At least if I had to suffer with this achy longing I felt every moment of every day, I’d still have him in my corner.
Just not my arms. Or my bed.
Over the last four weeks since I’ve been back at school, he’s proven to be an awesome friend. It’s amazing how close we’ve grown through our texts, emails, phone calls and various other exchanges we’ve had. We’ve talked about everything. I’ve shared more personal details with him than any of my other friends – even my roommate Sienna. Well, with the exception of that tiny fact that I’m still a virgin. Whether intentional or not, we’ve steered clear of the sex topic altogether and avoided anything of a sexual nature. Probably a wise thing because I think I’d die of embarrassment if we got to talking about him and his girlfriend.
For example, when he returned last weekend from his visit to New Mexico to see Lyndsay, Van was specifically vague about details related to the time they spent together. Apparently I’m a masochist though, because I wanted to know everything they did together. Is that creepy? Yeah, probably.
Unfortunately – or maybe fortunately for me – Van was tight lipped about his weekend of love, offering very few details and only yes or no answers when I tried to pry deeper. Maybe that’s a typical guy thing, I don’t know. With my sister, she’s always been loose lipped about spilling the beans about her torrid affairs. I guess it makes me respect Van even more that he’s not willing to share all the intimate details of his love life with his girlfriend. That says a lot about his character.
Yet, the jealousy dwelling inside me, not knowing what they did together, is eating me up. There’s absolutely no reason I should be envious or feel betrayed over his relationship with Lyndsay. It’s illogical and stupid of me, really. He’s been dating her for years and has only known me a little over a month. But that doesn’t stop the hurt whenever he says her name – which is fairly often in conversation. It just proves that he’s consumed with thoughts of her, and I’m simply consumed by him. Every single waking hour and in my dreams at night, Van is with me. I’m so pathetic.
In fact, it may be nearing the point of obsessive. I think I’ve become a bit of a stalker, following him on Instagram, where really rarely posts anything other than basketball-related updates. And Lyndsay’s account is private, so I can’t see what she posts on her page. We’ve also added each other on Facebook, but again, Van isn’t great with social media. Just a few quotes here and there and lots of shared videos – some of which I find rather humorous that we talk about when we chat on the phone.
The first time he called me was one night three weeks ago. We’d been texting throughout the day and the conversation had veered into some deep territory about feeling anxiety over life and school and family. That is something we share in common. Although, he seems to have a better grip on it than I do. My shortcomings are very visible, where his are tightly guarded and well-hidden from the general public.
Anyway, I’d asked him via text what weighed on him the most. And his response was:
Not measuring up.
Whoa. I had just started to type out a response back when the phone rang in my hands. It surprised the heck out of me and I just stared at it incredulously for several seconds in disbelief. Like it was some prank. Because honestly, it wasn’t often that I received phone calls. My two best friends from high school were now in different schools and leading their own new lives in college. And my sister had already called me earlier in the day, so I knew it wasn’t her. My mom was off doing something with her new boyfriend, John. And Cade...well, suffice it to say, he never called me.
So I answered the phone with a circumspect tone in my voice.
“Hello?”
I was already aware it was Van because his name popped up on the display.
“Hey. It’s me.” He stated for the record.
“Hi,” I responded, a big cheesy grin plastered across my face. I’m such a sucker for this guy. My insides turn all gooey at the sound of his voice, like the way a marshmallow melts over the heat of a campfire. “What’s going on?”
I can hear his keys jingling in the background, and then the electronic dinging noise generated from his keys in the ignition. He’s obviously going somewhere or coming from.
“I just got done with practice,” he explains, as if he could read my thoughts. “And I didn’t want to leave you hanging. I feel the need to clarify my last text.”
The sound of his deep breaths had me vividly imagining what he looks like at practice. How he pushes his tall, muscular body up and down the court; running, sprinting, jumping. The sweat pouring down his chest. Crap. I needed to stop this train of thought otherwise I was liable to self-combust.
“Okay...so tell me. Who do you think you’re not measuring up to?”
Someone meeting Van for the first time would never believe that he suffered from any insecurities. He just exuded coolness. Like nothing ever fazed him or ruffled his feathers. Never once had I heard any of Cade’s friends or teammates say a bad word about Donavan Gerard. He was a class act in every way, both on and off the court. Van was always thoughtful, hard-working and considerate of his teammates.
Van heaved a deep sigh, seeped in frustration. “I don’t know...everyone, I guess. My parents are at the top of the list. I feel this incredible pressure to do well for them, to make them proud, you know? They’ve been dealt a shitty hand with my brother – the financial problems, the physical demands – all of it. I don’t ever want them to worry about me or be a burden to them. They have enough to deal with.”
I slouch down on my bed, the pillows bunched behind my head as I burrow in and get comfortable. Hearing him open up to me sends a thrill down my body, even though we’re talking about some pretty heavy stuff. It feels good to know he considers me a trustful ally to share these personal thoughts with.
I’m genuinely outraged by his confession. “How could you not make them proud, Van? I mean, you’re an All-Star basketball player on a Pac-12 team. You’re intelligent and have a brilliant future ahead of you. And to top that off, you’re a genuinely kind person. What parents could ask for more than that?”
I’m not sure if I pushed him too far or said something wrong, because there was a really long pause. In fact, it went on so long I had to jump in to make sure he was still on the line.
“Are you still there?”
