When Our Worlds Collide (6 page)

Chapter Ten

-Graham-

I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as infuriated as
Kennedy in this moment. Anyone who was close enough to see her face the moment
she realized that I was the one who was helping her could see the fury in her
eyes. She would have been happier if the devil himself assisted her in her time
of need. It was that look in her eyes. They are usually this crazy shade of
blue, but when she glared up at me from beneath those long eyelashes they
turned a dark smoldering grey. You could see the storm brewing. I have never
seen someone’s eyes change color like hers did. Add that to the long list of
things that I don’t understand about this girl.

I hand her the books and she yanks them from my grasp. She
claims she is fine, but I can tell she is lying. “Kennedy, I think we should
talk,” I whisper to ensure no one hears what I’m saying. It appears that we
have drawn an audience.

She stands up as I hand her the crutches that have fallen to
the floor next to her feet. She gladly takes them with an enthusiasm that is
slightly insulting. They are her only way away from me after all, like she’d
refuse them. “You know what? I don’t think we do. Forget it ever happened. You
don’t owe me anything, Graham,” Kennedy snaps. I see the roll of her eyes and I
have to stop myself from laughing. Her reaction to me is adorable.

Why won’t she talk to me? If she hates me this badly then why
did she do what she did? Kennedy could have easily told the cops everything
about the events of that night. I couldn’t help but be more curious about her
because of her silence. I have never done anything for her. I’m not this nice
guy who walks around holier than thou. I’m a dick and everyone knows it. They
all just choose to excuse my behavior because of who my family is and how well
I play ball. It aggravates me how she blatantly is disgusted by me. She is the
one that told me to leave her there on the side of the road that night.  I was
ready to seal my fate before she had to step in and change it all. 

“Whatever Kennedy, if you don’t want to talk to me that is
perfectly fine with me,” I snap back at her a little too loudly. I know right
away that the rumors are already rearing their ugly heads. Kennedy’s eyes are
wide as she looks up at me. A group of girls that Amanda’s always hanging
around with have their beady eyes narrowed in on us. Clearly confused as to why
Kennedy and I are having a heated conversation in a rather dull whisper. We
have no reason to be talking according to the order of things around here. They
are wrong. Kennedy and I have plenty to talk about. At some point Kennedy would
have to believe that as much as I do.

Kennedy’s eyes gloss over when she looks up at me. Her eyes
are welling up with unshed tears and I reach out to wipe them away, but jolt
back when I realize what I am doing. I shook my head trying to forget what just
about happened. This isn’t something I would do with any other girl. I’ve
caused plenty of tears in the past, but none that I was willing to try to stop.
There is this protectiveness I feel with Kennedy. She just watches me, opening
her mouth to say something before shaking her head as if that would have the capability
to erase her thoughts.

Turning away from Kennedy makes me uneasy. Without looking
back, I know everyone’s eyes are pointed behind me. I need to get away from
her. Putting distance would surely right the wrongs of the situation. I try to
reassure myself that it will. I can go on with my life, not giving a shit about
anyone except myself now.

Walking into the cafeteria after second block is awkward.
Amanda is waiting for me right inside the doors. She usually sits with a few
other girl at our table. I’m not in the mood to deal with anything she has for
me today. I don’t have the energy to argue with her which is where our
conversation will go today. Deciding I’d amuse her for a little bit longer
until it got to be too much work is the simplest of solutions.

“Hey Babe,” Amanda says with a smile. She slinks her arm
through mine squeezing close to my side. Sometimes I think she does this just
to show that she belongs to me in some sort of fucked up way. I don’t belong to
anyone and I never will.

“Hi,” I force a smile before removing her arm from mine and
making my way to my usual spot at the table.

A few of the guys are already sitting around talking. I sit
across from Craig and Mark. We have been best friends since we were in
kindergarten. Both of them are on the baseball team with me and spend most of
their weekends bouncing from bed to bed with random girls. Craig is the biggest
deviant out of the three of us and isn’t afraid to admit it. Mark on the other
hand feels some sort of remorse for bagging and leaving girls in his wake. He
is usually the one you can be found in a booth at a restaurant entertaining a
girl after the fact. He is a better man than me for that simple fact.

They are too busy in their conversation to notice I had sat
down. I came in at the end, but it wasn’t hard to catch onto their topic as she
walked into the cafeteria. All the talk fell to a dead halt as they watched
her.
Great
.

Violet is on her side as she hobbles in on her crutches.
Violet whispers something to her and she laughs uncomfortably. Her smile
doesn’t reach her eyes just like all the times she smiled at me. Kennedy scans
the room for somewhere to sit and lands her eyes on me. Her gaze quickly falls
doing everything in her power to look away. Violet ushers her over to a table
closest to the door and she looks relieved when she is finally able to sit
down.

I never did understand those two. Violet is a party girl to
the core who spent most Fridays and Saturdays hooking up with one of my
teammates. It’s been Dan as of recently. Violet and Kennedy aren’t anything
alike. I can tell that Violet is protective of her by the way she guides her
into the cafeteria as everyone watches with curious eyes. On numerous accounts,
Violet has defended Kennedy when Amanda made some snide remark as she walked
by. I feel a sense of gratefulness that Kennedy has someone like Violet. I
don’t know why I feel that way though.

“I can’t believe she was hit by a car and the dude just
drove off,” Mark speaks not dropping his gaze from her as if he’s seeing her
for the first time. I don’t like it.

“How do you know it was a guy?” I sound defensive. Amanda
looks over at me with a confused expression. She guides her hand up and down my
thigh as I sit stiffly putting all of my will power into not looking back
towards Kennedy’s table.

“I mean, what kind of girl would hit another girl then drive
off? It would never happen. It had to have been a guy,” Craig butts in with his
opinion. He takes a large bite out of his sandwich. “She sure did look hot at
the talent show though. Who knew that all of that could come from a girl like
her? She gave me some serious wood.” Craig’s mouth is full of food as he speaks
pointing over to the shy Kennedy that everyone is used to seeing.

“You’re disgusting,” Amanda rolls her eyes throwing a fry at
Craig. Craig dodges the fry and smirks.

“No, I’m just telling the truth. Graham, you’re trying to
tell me that she didn’t look seriously hot shaking her ass all over that
stage?” he raises a challenging eyebrow at her knowing damn well that it will
irritate her.

Let’s just say that Amanda doesn’t like it when other girls
grab the attention of “her boys”. Amanda has made her rounds in our group of
friends to say the least. Unfortunately for me, she is hell bent on lingering
longer with me rather than the others.

 Amanda looks between Craig and me waiting for my answer,
but I can’t pull my eyes away from Kennedy because apparently I have no will
power what so ever. She shyly looks up at me periodically through her hair that
keeps falling across her face as protection. When we catch eyes something
inside of me stirs. That protectiveness came back.
Shit
.

“Yeah Graham, did she look hot?” Amanda is clearly annoyed
with the direction that the conversation is headed. “She looked average at best
like she usually does. The girl doesn’t have a sexual bone in her body. None of
you would know what to do with a girl like her. It would mean you’d actually
have to treat someone like a human being and not like a blow up doll.” The
jealousy is blatantly clear in her voice causing the other guys to laugh right
in her face.

I tear my eyes from Kennedy as hard as that is to glance
down at Amanda who is waiting for an answer. Throwing an arm over her shoulder
I answer, “She looked alright.”

Okay, I lied. No one wants to really know what I think about
Kennedy. I’m not even sure how I feel about Kennedy. I know that she surprised
the hell out of me at the talent show. Even now when I look at her I’m
surprised that I overlooked her for all these years. The girl has some killer
legs and pouty lips that are practically begging to be kissed
.

This is going to be a big problem. Shit. Get your shit
together. You just ran the girl over, now you are thinking about kissing her.
That’s not going to work.

After lunch I make it my mission to not look at Kennedy. It
is nearly impossible since we are in the same class third period. She must have
been running late luckily for me. Her usual seat is taken in the front row. She
walks into the classroom and scans the room for an open seat. Her eyes linger
on the seat that is directly next to me. Kennedy’s face falls when she looks to
Mr. Stevenson then back to me knowing damn well that I’m her only option as of
now.

Mr. Stevenson offers to have someone move to the back, so
that she doesn’t have to struggle back to the open spot next to me. She brushes
off his offer and makes her way back to the seat looking annoyed just as she
did not even two weeks ago.

I make a good attempt to help her by grabbing her books. She
pushes me off before I even have the chance to lift my hand up. The rest of the
hour is spent with Kennedy trying to catch up with what she has missed and her
trying to avoid me. There is a few times where her eyes meet mine then they are
followed by her abruptly turning her head.

It is obvious. She has nothing to say to me, but at the same
time her eyes say something different. Kennedy has no intentions of hearing
anything I have to say. That doesn’t stop her from being curious about me
either. If I know anything about girls then I am right about this.

The class bell rings and everyone gets up to make it to
their next class except Kennedy. She waits for the room to clear out and so do
I before moving, telling Mark I’d meet him in the locker room. Kennedy is
collecting all of her notes and putting them inside of her book as I study her
from my seat.

I break the silence just as she stands to walk out. “Please
talk to me,” I ask sounding more sincere than anything.

“What is there to talk about?” Kennedy answers. She doesn’t
even bother to look me in the eye when she speaks.
That’s not a good sign,
right?

“I think you know what we need to talk about, Kennedy.”

“About how you ran me over with your car when you were drunk
and I let you leave me in the middle of the road basically broken or about how
you haven’t even bothered to check in on me since said accident? Which one do
you want to start with because as far as I’m concerned we don’t have anything
to talk about?”

Okay, I’m an even bigger asshole than I thought.

It’s all a bit clearer to me as to why she is upset. It’s
too late now. I can’t exactly turn back the time and if I could, I would have
already done that to stop the night of the accident from happening in the first
place. I don’t have anything to say to her. I wish there is something to stop
her from leaving me standing here, but there’s no fix all to this. Instead I
just watch her walk away once again. 

The last hour of school goes by in what can only be
described as slow motion. I avoid talking to everyone, even Amanda who
basically throws herself at me after school. She offers something that I never
would usually turn down, but for once I know sex isn’t going to alleviate
what’s ailing me. A blow job couldn’t pull me out of this funk for fucks sake.

I go to baseball practice with my head in a fog. Standing on
the pitcher’s mound is my place of comfort and solitude. Today’s different.
Kennedy’s words play on a constant loop in my head as I throw out every pitch.

Nothing has ever distracted me from baseball.

Until her.

Chapter Eleven

-Kennedy-

“How was your first day back at school, honey?” My father
startles me once I walk in the front door. I wasn’t expecting him to be home
from work this early. He is lounging on the couch wearing gym shorts and a
t-shirt, like he just got done working out.

“It was fine. What are you doing home from work so early?” I
look him over as he flips through every T.V. channel, never stopping on any one
in particular. He is clearly avoiding looking me in the eye. 

“I just…” he pauses to think about what he is going to say.
“I just had a few things to do around the house, so I bailed out early.” I can
tell he is lying. I push it to the back of my mind. Whatever he is hiding is
probably for the best. I don’t have the energy right now after my first day
back to school to worry about anyone else’s problems.

I stand in the entrance to the living room thinking about
how Graham wants to talk about what happened. I’m not sure if I am prepared to
do that. I don’t have a good reason for what I did for him. I don’t know how
I’d even begin to explain it to him when I don’t fully understand it myself. I
have the tendency to avoid confrontation. I inherited that little trait from my
Dad which explains why he is still refusing to look in my direction.

“I have a lot of homework to do,” I say hobbling back to my
bedroom leaving my father flipping through the channels.

I throw my backpack onto my bed before going into my
bathroom to wipe away all of my make-up. It is one thing to be all dolled up
when I went to school. It seems pointless to sit around in my room with a thin
layer of make-up on my face. I take a moment to stare at myself in the mirror
when I am changing into my favorite Notre Dame sweatpants. They are the only
thing that could fit over my cast beside gym shorts and skirts. 

I stand looking in the mirror at the bruises that cover a
large portion of my body. The ones on my arms are on the minor side. As you get
closer to my ribs they get larger. I push on the largest one that is taking up
most of my right side and wince at the pain that it causes. I carefully slide
the tank top over my head to avoid the pain that lifting my arms causes.
Grabbing my crutches I make my way back to my bed where comfort awaits me.

I grab a DVD off of the bookcase and slide it in the player
before throwing myself on top of my bed. Studying is the last thing I really
want to do considering the embarrassment I caused for myself this afternoon
with Graham. Why can’t I stop thinking about him?

I’m not sure what I expect or want Graham to say to me.
Believing that he owes me something is ridiculous, even I know that. He doesn’t
owe me anything. Maybe I am looking for some sort of remorse. Some sign that he
is who I think he was. In the small amount of times that I have talked to him
and the glances that we have exchanged I thought I saw something in his eyes
that is worth knowing. I’ve been wrong all along apparently.

Watching movies the entire night is the only thing on my
agenda besides taking a break for dinner and snacks. I jump on one foot to make
it to the kitchen to grab something to drink from the refrigerator. This time I
escape falling on my face. Maybe I’m getting the hang of being immobile.

“Mom, do we have any coke?” I yell to her from the kitchen
where she is sitting on the couch with my father having a serious conversation
that I have clearly interrupted.

“Look in the bottom drawer. I just put a few in there
yesterday, so unless you drank them all there should still be some,” she yells
back to me before turning her attention back to their conversation. Debating on
sticking close by to eaves drop or getting out of dodge, I decide heading back
to my room is clearly the better option. Anything that they argue about usually
entails me and I’m not in the mood to hear how I am complicating their lives
these days.

I grab Pretty Woman from the pile of movies I intend on
watching tonight and pop it into the player. Readjusting my body to get
comfortable is becoming quite the task. It takes me through the opening credits
to get situated. I have three pillows propped under my leg, two pillows behind
my back and an extra one on my right side to lean against for support. I look
ridiculous being swallowed up by all the pillows around me.

The movie is just getting to the good part where Richard
Gere picks up Julia Robert’s character on the strip when I hear our doorbell
ring. I look over at my alarm clock to see that it is almost nine. There is a
knock on my door shortly after.

“Come in,” I push pause refusing to miss any part of the
movie.

 My door swings open and my mom stands in the doorway. “You
have someone here to see you, honey,” she speaks softly. The look on her face
is one of amusement and maybe annoyance. I can’t really tell.

“Who is it?” I didn’t expect anyone to stop by. Maybe it is
Violet, but if it was, my mom wouldn’t have that look on her face that she has
right now. Violet hasn’t rung our door bell in almost three years, so odds are
it isn’t her.

“He said his name is Graham. He has something to ask you
about a homework assignment. It’s kind of late, Ken,” she says in warning. She
moves to the side and ushers him into my room with a raised eyebrow. He steps
into my room and thanks my mother for allowing him to come in and assures her
that it shouldn’t take too long. This would be a good time for me to protest,
but I am in shock at seeing him standing in my bedroom. He takes up too much
space making me feel uneasy and on edge.

My mother steps out and shuts the door behind her, but not
before checking Graham out. Oh yeah, she definitely allows her eyes to linger
on him for a little bit too long. Even grown woman are struck stupid by his
gorgeous face and obvious toned body that is badly hidden under his tight
t-shirt and form hugging jeans. I may not have any experience with guys, but I
can appreciate a good looking one when I see one.

“Umm…Hey,” Graham fidgets near my dresser that is just right
inside my room. The movie is still paused. He looks at the screen then back at
me. “Pretty Woman, huh?”

“Did you come here to talk to me about my movie choice or
are you stalling?” I ask with an edge to my voice. “I know that you don’t have
any homework you want to ask me about, so let’s just get to the point, Graham.
That way you can quit wasting my time and yours.”

Something about Graham brings out the worst side of me. I
never speak to anyone like I speak to him. I watch him as he looks down at his
feet refusing to look up at me. His tennis shoes sure are holding his
attention. A long hot breath of air releases from between his lips.

“I’ve been replaying that night in my head since it happened
and nothing that I say can change anything that has happened. Not that I
expected it to, but I thought that I could come up with something. Just
something that would at least ease the pain that I caused you and nothing
seemed to fit right,” he explains uncomfortably looking directly at me now.
Guys like Graham weren’t used to apologizing. I tried to interrupt him but he
continues on. “What I did, what I did to you, isn’t forgivable. I made a bad
decision and you got hurt in the process and I’m sorry. I know that apologizing
isn’t enough, but it’s all that I have to give you.”

Graham walks around this town like he is invisible. It feels
strange watching him like this, standing in front of me lost and flustered. It
sort of makes me feel a sense of power as if I hold something over someone as
powerful as Graham. I only see him from afar playing baseball or walking
through the halls of the high school with everyone else walking in his shadow.
He stands in front of me and I get a glimpse of that person that I am looking
for. He is the person who caught my eye right before I started dancing on the
stage at the talent show and he is the person that mouthed “Thanks” after I
gave him a simple answer in Government class as if it was this huge gesture.
There is sincerity to Graham that he clearly doesn’t allow many to see. 

I sit watching him for longer than is necessary taking him
in knowing that moments with Graham are going to be limited for me. “I don’t
expect anything from you if that’s what you think. I didn’t do it for me. I did
it for you,” I explain as honestly as I know how. I look away from him as soon
as the words leave my mouth. This is why I wanted to avoid this conversation
all together. I don’t know where to begin to explain any of this without
sounding like some 7th grader with a school girl crush.

“Why? You could have easily told the police everything. I
have never given you a reason to protect me, so why did you do it? Because I’ve
been trying to figure it out, Kennedy, and I can’t come up with any reasonable
explanation.”

“Sit down please. You’re making me nervous,” I scoot over to
the other side of my bed leaving a spot open for him to sit. He hesitantly
moves over to where I am sitting and looks over at me before taking a seat next
to me. I nod at him to reassure that it is okay. “We need to get a few things
straight. I didn’t do it for myself. I didn’t think that I was going to benefit
in letting you walk away from me with clean hands, but I knew that you
would
.
I’ve seen you play baseball, Graham. I’m not willing to allow you to throw away
your entire future because you made a bad decision. So you went out and got
drunk and ran me over. I don’t believe that one moment should define you for
the rest of your life.

He sits looking at me taking in everything that I just said
before speaking. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers just loud enough
for me to hear. I raise an eyebrow knowing that he is grateful for my decision.

“The detective came and visited me in the hospital. If
that’s what you really want then I can let them know that it was you, but I
don’t want to do that. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I just need a real answer from you because this whole ‘You
don’t deserve to have your future ripped from you’ isn’t cutting it,” Graham
argues. His voice is rapidly rising with his aggravation.

I sit there pulling at a loose piece of string on my
comforter thinking about what he is asking of me. I don’t know how to answer
without somehow revealing too much or embarrassing myself. Graham and I are on
two different planets when it comes to high school hierarchy. He’s the King and
I’m the peasant. That’s just how it is, how it will always be. I’m not under
the impression that any of that will change.

I dig deep for the confidence that I need to say this to
him. “This isn’t going to make much sense, but I’m going to say it anyways, so
please listen. I’m only saying it once because once will be enough to embarrass
me for a lifetime,” I look him directly in the eyes as I speak. I take a deep
breath in and release it before I begin. “When I was standing on the stage that
night I looked out in the crowd and I saw you watching me and for a split
second I saw the guy who I believed that you were or at least hoped that you
were. I’ve heard the rumors and see how everyone moves out of your wake in fear
of being swallowed up by you. I know how everyone sees you. I just see
something different I guess. Maybe I’m naïve and you’ll prove me wrong but I’m
hoping that I’ll be right about you after all.”

Did I just say that out loud?

Graham sits next to me clearly thinking about what I had
said. His facial expressions change a few times trying to work it all out in
his head. His cluelessness is adorable.

“Okay,” he speaks quietly and hesitantly.

Sliding over to give him more room to sit down, I push play
on the remote control. The movie springs to life with Julia Roberts explaining
to Richard Gere how to drive his car. Graham takes a minute to realize this is
my way of inviting him to stay to watch the movie. He looks unsure as he slides
off his tennis shoes and props a pillow up behind his back before leaning
against my headboard to get more comfortable.

We sit watching the movie for a half an hour before I can’t
contain myself anymore letting out a giggle that quickly turns into a
full-fledged laugh.

“Something amusing?” he looks over at me with a playful
amused smirk.

“This is a bit ridiculous, right? I mean you sitting here in
my bed watching Pretty Woman with me. No one would believe us if we told them.”
I glance over at him and he is watching me laugh.

“I suppose it is.” Graham’s laughter falls perfectly in with
mine and echoes through my room.

God, he has a great laugh. Don’t even think about it,
Kennedy. Never gonna happen. It’s best that you remember that.

“What do we do now? I mean, are we friends or…” I trail off
afraid of what he will have to say and slightly embarrassed that I even asked.

“I’d say we’re friends,” Graham smiles. It doesn’t reach as
far as his eyes. Clearly, he’s hesitant.

“I didn’t think Graham Black had friends that were girls,” I
joke. It is one of the many rumors that I’ve heard about him.

“I don’t, but I’m willing to make an exception for you.” He
keeps eye contact with me as he says it. I believe him, but what does that even
mean?

We sit in silence for a while until the movie is done
playing. The room falls silent for a beat until I hear my parents arguing. Not
again, I don’t have it in me to deal with them tonight especially with Graham
sitting right next to me. They must have forgotten that he is here or else they
wouldn’t have started in on each other like this.

How convenient.

“What do you mean you got laid off?” My mother shouts.

“It’s only temporarily. They are trying to adjust the budget
then I’ll be back to work,” my dad explains.

“How are we supposed to afford to send Kennedy off to
Columbia when we can barely afford Will’s tuition this year?” she questions
him. Her voice is rising as the argument escalates.