When Our Worlds Collide (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

-Graham-

“How’s baseball?” Mr. Conrad asks before taking a long pull
from his beer. So far we have managed to avoid the subject of my family. I’m
thanking my lucky stars for that. I have a feeling Kennedy will jump in to save
me before her parents can dig too deep if it ever does come up. She’s
protective of me. I’m not use to that.

“Undefeated. If we can get past Oakridge this Friday then
we’ll have a shot at going to the state championship,” I explain with an
excitement that’s palpable. Kennedy watches me from across the table with a
twinkle in her eyes as if I’m telling the most interesting story she has ever
heard.

“Oakridge’s been a hard team to beat the past few years,
right?”

“We’ll be able to hold our own against them I think. Their
short-stop is out for the season after being caught drinking and driving. He’s
a beast on the field, but they suspended him for the rest of the season.”

Mrs. Conrad reaches across the table grabbing the bowl of
green beans before taking a spoonful and putting them on her plate. “He’s lucky
he didn’t kill someone or else he’d be rotting in jail,” her voice is full of
animosity.

Kennedy’s eyes catch my reaction to her mom’s blatant
disgust. I can feel the tension that rolls off her as she forces her appraising
eyes from me to her mom. She’s thinking about that night. It’s written all over
her face. I know her too well now for her not to be thinking about anything
else. I could have easily killed her that night, but she survived---barely
survived.

“Detective Johnson called to follow-up with you. They still
have no leads on the investigation. He wants to see if you’ve remembered
anything,” Mr. Conrad looks towards Kennedy who doesn’t change the expression
on her face trying not to give anything away. “Have you? I left the number on
the counter for you, sweetheart.”

“Have I, what?” Kennedy looks up to her father turning her
gaze around the table at all of our watchful eyes.

“Have you remembered anything from that night?” Mrs. Conrad
repeats her husband’s question.

Kennedy drops her fork to her plate. “No, I haven’t and I’d
like to forget it happened if that’s okay.” Both of her parents look across the
table at each other with distraught in their eyes. They aren’t pleased with
Kennedy’s complete disregard for the situation.

“I don’t think it’s that easy, sweetie. Someone hit you and
left you on a dirt road…alone.” Mr. Conrad’s words send an icy chill through my
body. No one except Kennedy and me know what happened that night. Hearing
someone referring to my biggest mistake only makes me feel worse. This is why
I’m never going to be good enough for this girl no matter how much time passes.
Once someone finds out, especially her family, I’d be thrown out of her life
for good. Maybe I deserve that. I surely don’t deserve her.

“You know you have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow? Maybe
you can get that clunky cast off,” Mrs. Conrad attempts to lighten the mood
with no resolve.

“Yeah maybe.” Kennedy’s expression is as hard as granite.

“Once the casts off will you start physical therapy on your
leg?” I offer the question to anyone who’s willing to answer.

“That’s the hope. After your surgery then maybe we can see
you dance again,” Mrs. Conrad smiles in admiration of her daughter’s gift,
reiterating my exact thoughts and hopes for Kennedy.

“It’s a long shot,” Kennedy plays with her fork in the pile
of green beans she has no intentions of eating. I can tell her new reality is
bothering her. She sits there in the chair across from me trying not to show
too much. I can see the anger piling up on her lap just waiting to tip over.
Everyone has their breaking point and Kennedy’s is fast approaching.

She pushes her chair back abruptly causing the rest of us to
jump in response from the unwelcoming sound of the legs scratching against the
wood floor. Kennedy storms off into her room slamming the door leaving me with
just her parents who have their eyes trained on her bedroom door.

I go to stand up from the table to check on her when Mrs.
Conrad places her gentle hand on my arm.

“Just give her a few minutes, sweetie. You’ll learn that
sometimes she just needs a moment to vent on her own,” I nod in compliance not
wanting to overstep her instructions.

I continue eating the remainder of my dinner in silence as
does Mr. and Mrs. Conrad. They don’t feel the need to fill the gap of silence
with unnecessary chatter. Not sure of what I’m supposed to do I just stare off
into a non-existent black hole. Maybe it will open up and swallow me whole.
Nothing I can say to Kennedy will make this situation any easier. 

When I let my mind wander to the night of the accident
Kennedy’s insistent need of protecting me is most prominent. I don’t deserve
her to protect and lie for me. She chooses to do so to everyone she cares about
for someone she barely knows and I still don’t understand why she would take a
risk on me. How can a girl like Kennedy love someone like me? She sees
something no one else ever has or has bothered to see. There’s more to me than
baseball. She sees the type of person that I’m capable of being, the type of
person who I want to be for her. 

When I ask her she always says she believes that there’s something
inside of me that’s worth knowing. I can’t afford to believe that. There’s
nothing special about me when you pull away the superficial layers. If I wasn’t
born into a family of small town royalty or if I didn’t play baseball as if I’m
already getting paid to do so then there’s nothing left to me. I’m blank under
everything else. The only good thing I have going for me is now the girl who I
nearly took everything away from.

 “I’m going to go check on her if that’s okay,” I stand
waiting for them to protest. They both give me the same look. It’s sort of an
acceptance, but also a warning. Almost like the one her father had given me
earlier in the day.

Walking into Kennedy’s bedroom, I find her sitting on the
floor leaning against her bed frame. A few tears fall from her eyes causing a
familiar ache in my chest. She tries to hide them from me once she notices me
entering her room closing the door. I glance down to see a photo album sprawled
out over her lap. I sit down directly beside her. Our legs graze against each
other causing the familiar spark to shoot through the spot where we’re
connected. I’ll never get use to that. Pulling the photo album off her lap
placing it on mine I scan through the pages slowly waiting for her to object.
She never does only sitting beside me allowing me a glimpse into her world.

The first half is of her when she’s younger, maybe 3 or 4.
She’s wearing these obnoxiously bright colored costumes and leotards in every
photo. The one thing that doesn’t change as she grows up in front of me is her
bright smile, just as it is today. Her smile radiates bliss in every photo. You
can read her thoughts through her smile and every last one of them tells the
same tale. Dancing is her life, the only reason why she wakes up in the morning.
It’s her purpose.

I shut the album placing it down next to me. I slowly turn
to face her. She’s still staring straight ahead in deep thought.

“Kennedy…I…” I couldn’t even get the right words out.

“If you say you’re sorry I’m going to kick your ass,” Kennedy
threatens before turning to look where I’m slouched over in defeat. Her hand
finds mine squeezing it in reassurance. I don’t even need to say anything and
she understands my exact thoughts.

“This is my fault, Ken. I put you in that cast. Now I’m
making you lie to your family when in reality I should be rotting in jail just
like your mother said. Someone like me doesn’t deserve a free pass.” I rip my
hand out of hers standing to pace around her room. I’m wearing a track through
the carpet with how fast I’m moving back and forth. Kennedy keeps her eyes on
me without saying anything. She’s just watching me.

“Quit apologizing. It’s my life. My leg. My everything. You
don’t get to decide what I do with it. I made a decision. I don’t regret it.”
She stands to sit on the edge of her bed still keeping a watchful eye on me.

“Fuck Kennedy, quit giving me this. I’m the reason why you
can’t dance. Don’t forget that. I have to live with the fact that I stole that
from you and you just sit there as if it’s not a big deal. You’re delusional if
you don’t think that’s true,” my voice rises loud enough to startle her.
Kennedy clinches her fists together. I’m waiting for her to erupt, but it never
happens.

“You think I don’t know that. I understand more than anyone
that dancing has come to a halt for me. I don’t get to compete this year with
my dance studio. I don’t get to do any of it, but that doesn’t mean that I
won’t ever again. It’s going to take time and I’m coping with that every single
day,” Kennedy tries to stay calm as she talks. Releasing a long breath of air
she shakes her head trying to erase her thoughts. “I think you should just
leave now.” Her face stays neutral. Kennedy wants me to leave.

Remember earlier when I said Kennedy was on the downward
spiral to her breaking point. We’re there now. She can’t handle it anymore.
She’s breaking.

“Kennedy…” I whisper fearfully. Losing her wasn’t an option.
Not when I just got her.

“Graham just…go. If you don’t understand why I did what I
did that night then you don’t know me or understand me at all. Please leave.”
She opens her bedroom door to urge me to move. I gather my backpack walking
towards the door. I stop beside her where she stands looking blankly ahead. I
don’t look at her. I don’t have to. I can feel her without even reaching out. 

“I’m leaving because you asked me to, but I swear to you
that me leaving is not the same as me giving up on you,” I promise.

“Someone like you is not capable of a promise like that,”
Kennedy’s voice is harsh, distant. Her words sting as they fall off of her
tongue slapping me across the face. She’s mad and has every right to be.

I walk out of Kennedy’s room thankful to skid through the
front door going unnoticed by her parents. I wouldn’t know what to say to them
even if I had. The cold night air hits my face as I roll down my windows
backing out of the driveway. Going home isn’t an option.

I drive and I drive until I end up in the middle of nowhere
in front of the old barn, the secret hideout for some pretty insane keggers
that almost always get broken up by the county sheriff’s department. The
feeling of seclusion should be comforting. It has the opposite impact. I’m not
just alone in the middle of this country road. I’m alone in the realest sense
of the word. No one’s to blame except for me, just like everything else in my
life.

I get out of my car slamming the door. Sitting on the hood I
look directly up to the sky watching the stars. I find the big and little
dipper with ease. When I’m looking at the cluster of stars I question everything
I’ve ever done, all my decisions that have affected those around me. Kennedy
was born to dance just as I was born to play baseball. I almost took both of
our dreams away. A gift like ours doesn’t happen to everyone. People go through
life trying to decide what they should do or be, but she and I are the lucky
ones. We knew the first moment we took the stage and threw a pitch.

Chapter Thirty-Five

-Kennedy-

There’s a faint knock on my slightly open door. Everything
in me screams to ignore it, pretend that I don’t hear whoever it is standing on
the opposite side from me. That option is tempting. I know that isn’t going to
be an option when the door swings open and my mother walks in. Like most mom’s
she can tell when something’s wrong just like she can tell if I’m running a
fever just by kissing my forehead. It’s a mother’s intuition. Right about now I
loathe her.

“What’s going on with you, Kennedy?” she asks quietly as she
sits on the bed next to me. “And don’t you dare say ‘nothing’. I’m your mother.
I know you better than that. It’s written all over that pretty little face of
yours.”

How can I talk about this with her? The determined look on
my mom’s face said everything I needed to know. I wasn’t going to get off easy
so I dove right in.

“Do you think two people that have every reason in the world
to not be together can still find a way to make it work? Like if the whole
world is finding a reason to fight against these two people, can they still
find a reason to fight back?” I ramble on feeling utterly embarrassed enough to
throw myself back onto my bed pulling a pillow over my head to attempt at
hiding it. She quickly grabs it uncovering my pink face.

“I think it all depends,” she smiles at me as if she has all
of the answers. “Is this just two people or are we talking about you and
Graham? Because if we’re talking about you and that adorable boy then I’d bet
he would fight to the end of the world for you. I don’t know much about him,
but I do know he has a reputation. None of that matters to me when he looks at
you the way he does.”

“What do you mean? How does he look at me?” I shyly ask
tears threatening to show just what is going on inside my head. Talking about
things like this with my mom isn’t natural. This was foreign territory for us. It’s
definitely a first considering before Graham came along I had never had a
boyfriend or even admitted to having a crush on someone out loud.

“Like his world starts and ends with you. I don’t know
what’s all happened between you two, but I know that you haven’t been with each
other for too long. With that said that boy adores you. Don’t let your mind
wander too far where you can’t find your way back to him if that’s what you
truly want.” She lays a soft kiss on the top of my head then walks out of my room
leaving me with her advice.

I stare at the same wall for hours as if I expect it to open
up and have answers to all of my questions. As if I could force the answers
from the cold white walls just from staring into them. I replay my mother’s
advice over in my head. Kicking Graham out of my room was irrational now that
the dust has settled. I know the reason behind my rash behavior. I’m frustrated
with him, with everything.

My mother is right though. Like usual, but don’t tell her I
said that. I just feel too much too quickly for Graham that it’s not natural.
We’re in high school. We shouldn’t be wrapped up in each other this soon. If
the universe wants us to be together then it would stop giving us reasons not
to be.

Everything that is and will be Graham is frightening. He’s the
type of guy that will manage to be gorgeous after thirty years pass, the type
of guy who can be cocky then turn around and prove to you that he also has this
unbelievably sweet side. Mostly he’s the type of guy who doesn’t ask you to
change, but you find yourself changing anyways. He’s the ultimate prize whether
he sees it in himself or not.

Whenever Graham’s nearby I can feel him as if we have this
invisible tether that keeps us connected, keeps us feeling. The first time it
happened was the night of the accident. As I stood on the stage I felt nervous
and awkward, as if I still didn’t belong after all this time of being their
peer. The lights came on and focused solely on me. When I looked out at the
crowd before the music began to play I saw him. He’s all I saw. He was my
lighthouse and I was the lost boat. He guided me through that moment whether he
was aware of it at the time or not. I’m sure he had no idea of how he made me
feel that night and then the accident happened. I wasn’t sure then what was
happening, but I knew something switched in me. I hadn’t been looking for
Graham. He came along anyways. I believe that’s how all love stories begin. How
they end is a whole different thing.

Graham is the one responsible for my accident. When he was
the one who showed up above me that night, looking over my broken and
disheveled body, I felt a sense of relief course through my veins. He looked
down at me with fear in his eyes. He knew what he had done and he was just as
scared as I had been. At the time I didn’t know a thing about the type of guy
Graham is, but that didn’t matter much in the long run.

I made the decision I did based on the look in his eyes. I
never told him this. It still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me even after
all this time. When he was hunched over me looking at my injuries he grabbed my
hand then he looked at me. Like really looked at me and that’s when I saw it.
There was a glisten in his eyes, a look that exposed his soul without him
realizing it. I couldn’t do anything but admire what I saw. He turned out to be
exactly what I thought even when he tries to prove me wrong time and time
again.

There’s another knock on my door as I am starting to get
ready for bed. My mom has come back with more words of wisdom I’m sure. She’s
the type of person that thinks of the right thing to stay far too long after
the moment has passed. I inherited that trait from her. It’s the reason why
every time I want to yell at someone (primarily Graham) I can’t think of the
right thing to say.

“Can I come in?” My dad’s voice echoes through my room as he
enters.

“Sure,” I answer sitting down on the bed. He never comes in
here unless it’s important. He always says things like “a girl’s domain is no
place I want to be” or “it’s too pink in here”. He’s funny like that.

“I know you’re stressed about your leg and what it may mean
for your future…”

I stop him before he can say anything else. He can’t be
further from the truth. “Dad, it’s not just that. Of course I’m worried but
it’s out of my hands at this point. It is what it is. I’ll deal with it,” I
explain the best I’m capable of.

“I never understood where you got your maturity from.”

“Mom.”---“Mom.” We both say in unison making us both laugh.

“Did that boy make you cry?” he asks with a determination as
if I were to say yes then he would spend his night out avenging my broken
heart.

“Mom told you?” I ask knowing very well that she did.

“We don’t keep secrets in this family. You know that.” That
sentiment makes me want to laugh. “I know I’m just your old dad, but I might
have some advice for you.”

“Okay…” I proceed with caution not really understanding
where this is coming from. We usually avoided any conversation that ran deeper
to the heart.

“There’s something about young love that makes us adults
secretly jealous. Love at your age is easy. You know in your heart that this
person consumes you, owns you. Knowing their name isn’t necessary before it all
happens. As you get older you’ll learn that love becomes more about the
circumstance rather than the excitement of your heart. Promise me you won’t let
your heart age before you do. If you do you could end up letting something go
wishing every day that you still had it in your grasp.” He pats me on the leg
in encouragement and comfort before standing.

“Are you pushing me into Graham’s arms, Dad?” I ask with a
small laugh at how hilarious that idea is. “Most dads try to deter their
daughter from dating, but what you just said makes it seem that you have the
opposite of intentions.”

“I want whatever makes you happy. That’s the job of a parent
and if that boy is what makes your heart happy then how can I fault him or
you?” He doesn’t get a response from me. He isn’t expecting one.

I go to bed that night feeling drained and confused. I’m
scared that after pushing Graham out of my house and maybe my life that he
won’t be there in the morning. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s not
the poster boy for successful relationships. He’s never actually been in one.
His definition of a successful relationship is hooking up with a faceless girl
while they keep their shirt on in the back of his car in the high school
parking lot or in Craig’s boat house. Hardly the resume you want to see in your
next boyfriend.

I’m scared to face Craig tomorrow without Graham by my side
though. It would be easier if I didn’t think about Craig, but it’s inevitable.
We go to school together. I’m going to have to see him tomorrow and I’m not
ready for that. I know looking Craig in the eyes will only bring back the
memory of his bedroom, him hovering over me with his hand over my mouth.

My life was perfectly content before Graham came along
screwing it all up. Now everything is complicated and misplaced. Girls like me
aren’t meant to be near guys like Graham. Our worlds weren’t meant to collide,
but here I am wishing I wasn’t right.

I don’t know how long I stayed up thinking and rethinking
the situation I was in. When my alarm goes off I feel like I had just fallen
asleep. I drag myself---literally drag my butt out of bed and into a shower.
The warm water is soothing against my skin. The warmth of it only makes me
think of Graham. The way he held me in his arms as the water washed away my
anger and fear only makes me miss him more now that the sun has come up and
I’ve allowed it all to play over in my head. 

Like a zombie I get dressed, blow dry my hair throwing it up
into a high messy bun, and walk out of my bedroom where I’m greeted by my
cheerful father who’s whistling some sort of sunny gleeful song and a mother
who keeps looking at me as if she knows a life altering secret. I’m confused.
This isn’t how our mornings go. Most of the time they argue over who will get
the first cup of coffee from the pot. My dad believes that the first cup tastes
the best and I think my mom likes getting a rise out of him from stealing it
right out from under his nose. They’re cute like that.

“What’s gotten into you two?” I grab the box of Corn Pops
off the top of the refrigerator. They both ignore my question going about their
business. Dad passes me the gallon of milk and a bowl with a spoon.

“Violet coming to pick you up this morning?” My mom avoids
making eye contact with me when she asks, but keeps her eyes on my dad who’s
holding back a laugh.

I furrowed my brow and shake my head in confusion. What’s
gotten into these two? I’m tempting to raid their room looking for a pot stash.

“Yeah she’ll be here in like five minutes which means I need
to hurry.” I eat faster than necessary knowing Violet will get grumpy if I keep
her waiting too long. I still can’t drive with this dumpy cast which means I’m
dependable on anyone willing to be my chauffer. Hopefully that will all change
today after my doctor’s appointment.

I grab my back pack off the table and head towards the front
door. My mom stops me in the hallway blocking my exit.

“Wait sweetie. Before you leave I need to ask you
something,” she says seriously.

“What’s up mom?” I answer flinging my back pack over my
shoulder in agitation.

“Did you ever figure out the answer to your question last night?
About how if it’s possible for two people who are completely different to find
a way to be together.” She looks at me hopeful. She doesn’t want to have a
cynic for a daughter. To her, I’m too young to already not believe in happily
ever after.

“Sort of and I’m starting to believe that there’s a reason
why life sometimes doesn’t want people to be together, so we’re thrown these
curveballs and obstacles to prove to us that we were never supposed to be
together in the first place,” I force a smile. It’s upsetting to say it out
loud reaffirming her fear for me. “I guess that’s that, huh?”

“And here I thought you were a fighter,” she whispers under
her breath thinking that I won’t hear her, but of course I do. I choose to
ignore her snide remark. I’m not in the mood for the come to Jesus talk that
will surely follow that comment. As I hear Violet’s car horn blaring, I leave
her standing on the front porch watching me as I walk down the walkway onto the
driveway.

My eyes are down casted in shame for my admission. I turn
the corner preparing for a snide remark from Violet, but there he stands
leaning against his car. God, he’s too gorgeous for his own good. He’s wearing
the jeans that are just tight enough to show off everything that makes a girl
want to scream his name. His thin white button up is rolled up to his elbows.
Best of all, his perfect smile is plastered on his face, the smile that makes
you want to run into his arms and stay there. His aviator sunglasses are
perched on his nose, making it impossible to see his eyes. I still know that in
spite of his smile there’s a mixture of fear and reluctance behind the shiny
surface.

Neither of us say anything. Neither of us took the steps to
close the gap between us. I stay planted on the edge of the driveway watching
him against the hood of his car. He runs his thumb along the gap between the
hood and the front end. I watch him intently trying to come up with something
to say. Something that can fix everything, but I come up empty handed. When I
see him pull his sunglasses off his perfect face exposing his eyes watching me,
I’m reminded of what my mom had said to me last night.

 
He looks at you as if his world starts and ends with
you.

This is what she was referring too. He doesn’t just look at
me. He actually sees me.

“Graham…” I look him up and down trying to memorize the way
he appears in front of me. He tucks his sunglasses into the collar of his
shirt. There’s a longing in his eyes when he allows his eyes to train in on
mine. My breathing stills as I watch his chest rise and fall.