Page 4 of Sweet Girl
Cade, Lance and Carver all walk in front of me down the corridor, joking about something that happened recently at a party. I’m a few paces behind them when Cade holds back a little to allow me to catch up.
“Yo, Van. Heard you’ve been hanging with my sister this past week.”
The expression on his face is unreadable. Is he pissed that I’ve been chilling with Kylah? Does he think something’s going on between us? Shit. I’ve got to put a stop to any conjecture or misinterpretation of our friendship. Because that’s all there is with Kylah. She’s a friend.
Cade clamps his hand down on my shoulder. Actually, he has to lift his arm a bit, because at six-foot-seven, I’m taller than him by two inches. He outweighs me, though, by a good ten pounds. His grip tightens for a second and then he laughs.
“Whoa. You okay there, bud? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
I wave him off. “Nah, I’m good. Didn’t eat much this morning.”
“Ah, man. I ate a shit ton. Ainsley made us all a huge breakfast. That’s when Ky brought you up. She mentioned you’d been watching Game of Thrones with her.”
I try to keep my breathing even and the timber of my voice to sound normal. Instead of jittery and nervous. I don’t even know why the hell I am. There’s nothing wrong with what me and Kylah have going on. Like he said, we’ve just been watching TV.
“Oh, yeah. That. It wasn’t only us. Lance was there too.” I sound kind of defensive now, like I am guilty of something.
Cade quirks his mouth up into a sideways smile and nods his head.
“That’s cool. But Ky couldn’t stop talking about you. Said you guys might go to the Twenty One Pilots show next month when she’s back during the holidays.”
Wow. The way he puts it sounds like a date, but that’s not at all how it is. We did talk about going together, along with others, though nothing was lined up. We don’t even have tickets yet and not sure we can even get some. I just happened to mention in passing that I was thinking about getting tickets because they’re my favorite band. There’s no way that Lyndsay would want to go with me. She doesn’t like crowds or going to see live music. She’s more of a country music fan – Luke Bryan or Eric Church. Where I’m not into the same scene.
“Maybe...we’ll see. Not sure yet if tickets are even available.”
We wind our way into the locker room and I open up my locker. My first instinct is to check my phone for any call or text from Lyndsay. Our schedules are so vastly different that it can be hit or miss on getting to talk to her any more. It’s actually starting to piss me off. Our skipping daily chats has been happening more and more frequently and I don’t like it. In fact, I’m becoming resentful and disenfranchised.
I press the button and the phone lights up with several text messages. Two from my mom about Dougie and his new therapist. The other from an unknown number. Much to my dismay, but not surprise, none are there from Lyndsay.
I frown.
Curious as to what the unknown number is all about, I open it up.
Unknown: Hi Van. It’s Kylah. Hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from Lance today.
Unknown: I know you’re probably busy, but the new Avengers movie is out this week. I really want to go, but don’t have anyone to go with. Thought I’d ask you. Want to go?
Unknown: With me?
Unknown: Or not. Whatevs.
Unknown: If not, that’s tots cool. No biggie. Either way, let me know. TTYL.
I read the texts again, all coming in about an hour earlier in quick succession. A smile grows unbidden across my lips where the grimace caused by my girlfriend had just been hovering. I can envision Kylah, in all her shy awkwardness, getting up the nerve to text me. She’s adorably sweet. She reminds me of a Ladybug. Or butterfly. One of those harmless, yet beautiful creatures, that always make you smile when they’re present.
I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching as I type out a text back to her.
Me: Hey Kylah. Just finished practice. Not sure if it’ll fit in with my schedule, but we’ll see.
I press send and then worry my response may be too brisk. Although I don’t know her all that well, my guess is she has tender feelings and can get hurt pretty easily.
Me: Thanks for asking, btw. I’ll let you know.
A response comes flashing across my screen a second later.
Unknown: Cool. Sounds good. And I totally understand if you can’t go. No pressure. I can go alone, too. It would mean more popcorn for me, anyway.
I laugh out loud, garnering a sideways glance from Carver whose shirtless by his locker and about to strip out of his jock strap.
