The Last Dance (22 page)
Authors: Kiki Hamilton
“Hey Mira. You look..um..nice.”
She looked up and smiled. “Hey Q.” She pointed. “Your leg must be feeling better, you don’t even limp anymore.”
I nodded. “I’m gettin’ there.”
She went back to doodling in her notebook. “I talked to Ivy last night.”
I tried not to show my interest. “How’d that go?”
Mira looked over at me and smiled. I noticed for the first time that her eyes were green. I wondered if that was her real color or not. They were pretty. “Good. We’re friends again.”
“Good.” I nodded at her, a small bubble of hope rose in my chest. “And Mira—thanks.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
CJ FLAGGED ME down after third period. “Hey Peterson, I heard Laurel showed up at your house on New Year’s Eve.”
I don’t know why I was surprised he knew. There were no secrets in this school. I wondered how long it would take to get out that Laurel and I had ditched school together yesterday.
He peered closer at me. “Are you guys going out again?”
“No.” I kept moving down the hall. “Were you lookin’ for me?”
“Oh, yeah—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder— “Coach wants to see you.”
“Okay. Thanks. Catch you later, man.” I was headed to the gym for fourth period so I made a detour to Coach’s office. As I knocked on the blue metal doorframe I wondered if Laurel would tell people about yesterday. My stomach twisted. Nothing had happened. We’d just driven down to the beach and spent the day there. It was over a two hour drive to the ocean and I’d gone there partly so no one would see us together. What would Ivy think if she knew?
I pushed the thought away. Why did I care? She was going out with Brandon. I leaned my head in the door. “CJ said you wanted to see me?”
Coach looked up from where he was working on a diagram of something. His flattop was the same year round, as were his white and blue Griffin Eagles t-shirt and dark blue gym shorts over bowed legs.
“Oh, Kellen. Yes, yes, come in.” He set his clipboard aside and shuffled through some papers. “I’m glad Charlie found you. I’ve got some…..” he paused as he dug through another stack of papers, “…news for you.”
I sank into the plastic chair in front of the Coach’s desk and sucked in the sweat-stained air of the gym. The place was so familiar it was like a second home. Hard to believe I’d be leaving forever in less than six months. “About what, Coach?”
He peered at me over a nose that had been broken more than once. “Your college football career, of course.”
A chill raced through my body as my heart started pounding in my chest.
“I’ve received two more letters of commitment for you, son.” He slapped his hand down on the desk. “It’s your pick, Kellen. You’re the most-recruited athlete we’ve ever had at Griffin, even after your injury. Those training films we made last week paid off. The scouts could see that you were as strong as ever.”
He pulled two letters from the pile of junk on his desk and held them out for me to take. “From Stanford and Oregon State University. Take these home and talk it over with your parents. Tell them to call me if they want to discuss any of these offers.”
Coach stood up and stuck out his hand. “It’s been an honor to coach you, Kellen. You’re an exceptional athlete with a very bright future ahead of you. Play it smart, son, and you’ve got it made. You can go to the college of your choice.”
I shook the coach’s hand and accepted the letters. “Thank you, sir. It’s been an honor to have you coach me.”
“Aw, get out of here.” He looked embarrassed but pleased at the same time. “Go celebrate, kid.”
I looked at the letters as I exited the room. Both had a fancy letterhead with a building etched on the top by the name of the school. They were all addressed to Mr. Kellen Peterson, care of Coach Branson, Griffin High School. I carefully folded them and slipped them inside my jacket.
MY NEW FIFTH period class was an AP English Lit class. I’d missed the entire first semester but the teacher had okayed for me to start second semester as they had started a new curriculum. I walked in seconds before the bell rang. I glanced around as I headed for the back of the room and my eyes riveted on a familiar dark head. My heart skipped a beat. Ivy was in this class?
I slid into one of the two vacant seats in the back row trying to decide how I felt about that. Just as the bell rang, Laurel rushed in the door. She was wearing her cheerleader outfit for a basketball game tonight and her long legs were lean and tan—even in January.
“Sorry, Mr. Pitman,” she called out as she rushed to her seat, as if she and the teacher were best buds. She slid into the desk next to mine. “Hi,” she whispered at me. “What a surprise.” There was a grin on her face that made me think that somehow she already knew I was in this class.
I
’d heard the gossip before I got to fifth period. It was all over school that Q and Laurel had gotten back together. I tried to convince myself I was happy for him, but it felt like I’d swallowed a chicken head. And there was nothing holy about that.
“It can’t be true,” Mira whispered when we were at the locker. She had a perplexed look on her face.
I pulled my heavy trig book off the shelf. “I think he really liked her, Mira.” It was true, even though it practically killed me to say the words. “I saw his face last fall when she came into the classroom to deliver a note to the teacher. He was like a love-sick puppy.”
Mira made her vampire noise in the back of her throat. “But she dumped him when he needed her most.”
The words rang with a damning resonance. So had I. “Apparently, he forgave her.” I tugged on Mira’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m sick of talking about Q anyway.”
I WAS SITTING in fifth period counting the minutes until I could escape from school. Today had been the longest day of my life. I just wanted to get away from Griffin High and not think about any of it anymore. Not Q. Not Laurel. Not true love. What? Why did I think that? I wanted to think about college—and the glorious, exciting future I was going to have somewhere far away from here.
I was drawing wings in the margins of my notebook as I waited for class to start. Just as the bell rang someone breezed in the door and sang out ‘sorry!’ in a way that didn’t sound like they were sorry at all. I looked up in disbelief. Laurel Simmons was in this class?
My gaze followed her as she hurried to the back of the room to find a vacant chair. She was very pretty. In a blond, cheerleader sort of way. A pair of broad shoulders caught my eye. He had his head turned toward Laurel to say something to her but I’d recognize those sun-kissed locks of hair anywhere. The chicken head in my stomach squawked. Both Laurel and Q were in this class?
“H
ey Ivy, wait up.” I hurried through the crowded hallway trying to catch up with her. She’d bolted from class like a cat in front of a hose. I slid up next to her and readjusted my backpack over my shoulder. “That’s funny we have fifth period together still, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She gave me a weird look. “Funny.” She kept walking. I wondered if she’d heard about Laurel.
I dodged a few people in the hallway. “What class do you have now?”
I swore she blushed. “I still have study hall. With Mira. Same as always.”
I didn’t tell her that I had study hall still, too. When I’d changed my schedule I couldn’t bring myself to totally remove every chance I’d have to see her. I’d decided if I couldn’t handle being around her, I’d just leave.
She glanced up at me then looked away fast. “How did your classes go today? You know….”
“Without my tutor?”
She was wearing a tight jade green sweater with a scoop neck and a carved jade necklace. I could see black lace peeking out from the neckline of her sweater. Elegant was a word that described her perfectly. As well as lovely.
“Yeah.” She threaded her long hair behind her ear, looking guilty. “Without your tutor.”
“Fine.” I slid my hand under her elbow and pulled her toward the double doors of the library. I grabbed one of the heavy blue doors and yanked it open as I tipped my head toward the room. “Can you come in for a minute and talk?”
“Uh…okay.”
I led her around the tables to a back corner where we could have some privacy. Though the bookcases were short, big plants overflowed on top of them, creating visual walls. I pulled out a chair for her to sit on, then sat across from her.
“You were right, Ivy. I’m ready to handle school on my own again. It was time for me to get back to normal.” If I wanted to do this right—we had to go back to being friends first. “I want you to know that I understand why you quit tutoring me and it’s okay. But I couldn’t have done it without your help. I’d never have been able to maintain my grades and get caught up again if it weren’t for you—so I’m really grateful for that.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief. “I was glad to help, Q.”
There was a bit of an awkward silence as I tried to figure out what to say next. “How was your break?”
“
Long.”
She said it with such emphasis that I smiled. Maybe she’d wanted that break to end as badly as I had. “How was yours?”
“Long.” We both laughed.
“Listen—”
“Listen—”
We stopped and laughed again. Then she kept talking, which wasn’t like Ivy at all.
“Q, I’m sorry things worked out the way they did. You know—all of it.” She seemed like she wanted to say more, so I waited. Instead she looked at her hands, rubbing her thumb over fingers. Finally she just said, “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s all right, Ivy.” I was trying to being super-cool, even though I ached with all the things I wanted to say. “I’m glad we’re friends. That’s what’s most important right now.”
She nodded. “Thanks.” She searched my face and I swear there was something there…something that looked like what I was feeling. “Well,” she stood up. “I better get going.”
“Wait.” I wrapped my hand around her wrist, my fingers easily circling her thin arm. “Before you go—I…I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”
I
sank back down, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Sure, Q, what is it?”
He brushed his hand across his forehead, his beautiful fingers smoothing his hair to the side. He still wore it long, the way I liked it.
“I need your advice.”
“About what?”
“I’ve been offered scholarships to several colleges to play football, but—” he braced his elbows on his knees and looked down at his hands as if struggling to complete his sentence.
“But what?”
“My doctor and my mom—” he hesitated, a pained expression crossed his face— “
and
my sister, don’t want me to play football again. Ever.” He sighed as he dropped his head to run his fingers through his hair. When he looked up again I could see the anguish in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Ivy.”
Just like that—I could see the young man behind the curtain again. Q was being totally open and honest, so different from the star quarterback that everybody else saw. My heart zinged. Why, oh why did he do this to me?
“We’re a lot alike, Ivy. We put the same kind of pressure on ourselves—have the same need to succeed. What do you think I should do?”
I was flattered and surprised that he’d want my opinion, but at the same time, it was a dangerous question. Q had grown up dreaming of being a football star. Did he really want me to tell him I didn’t want him to play? That I thought football was a stupid and brutal sport?
He must have sensed my hesitation. “Just tell me the truth, Ivy. Tell me what you honestly think.”
I owed him the truth. I took a deep breath. “I know how much you love football, Q. I know how much you love the game—how good you are.” I wanted to reach out and touch him, to reassure him, but I didn’t. Touching turned to craving with Q and I couldn’t go there again.
I tried to keep my voice level, to not let any of my emotions seep in, but it was hard. “You’re more than just an athlete. You’re special, Q. I can see it in the way the other kids look up to you, in how the teachers respect you.” I hesitated.
“But?”
My voice softened and I couldn’t help myself—I put my hand on his arm. His skin warmed my fingertips and I didn’t want to let go. “The truth is, I don’t want you to play football either. I don’t want you to ever be hurt again. Football is a brutal sport. If you keep playing—eventually you’ll get hurt again. It’s inevitable.” I pulled my hand away. “I’m sorry, I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear.”
He pushed himself upright and stood up. His face was perfectly blank and I had no idea what he was thinking. “Thanks for being honest, Ivy.”
Q walked me to study hall and then left. I watched him through the big glass windows, his shoulders hunched as though he was carrying a heavy load, his head down, staring at his feet as he walked.
A pang of longing pierced my heart. I missed hanging out with Q and Mira. “I wish we could all just be friends again,” I whispered.
F
or the first time in my life I was confused about what I wanted to do after high school. Not only was I confused about what I wanted to do, but about everything else that I’d always taken for granted.
I skipped sixth period and headed home. I flopped on my bed and scrunched the pillow behind my head as I stared up at the ceiling. I had five offers from Pac-12 college teams. It was my dream come true. All those years of hard work had paid off, even after my brain injury. But now I wasn’t sure if it was the right decision.
Logically, the answer was simple. Why take a chance of messing with my brain again? God knows I didn’t ever want to go through a repeat of these last three months.
But emotionally, the equation was different. Who would I be if I didn’t play football? What happened to the dream I’d held almost all my life? Would people still like me if I wasn’t the star quarterback? Would
I
like me?
My stomach twisted with indecision. In the past, I’d toyed with the idea of being a doctor, before football became the obvious choice. Now, nothing was obvious.
