As Kara opened the gym doors, I heard the sharp sound of a whistle, shoes squeaking against the floor, and a lot of yelling. Only a few people were watching—mostly girls, which was not surprising since the sun was setting and most of the students were probably at the drive-in theater. We sat in the middle row of the bleachers near the exit.
I heard Kara take another deep breath as her eyes darted to the court. A look of pain flitted over her face, but she masked it quickly. I followed her line of sight and spotted Cameron passing the ball to…Caleb.
I felt a huge smile on my face. Caleb was wearing a red jersey, with LOCKHART and a number 7 printed on the back. He caught the ball in his big hands, raised his arms, and expertly threw it into the basket. The girls on the sidelines cheered.
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Caleb raised his head to look at the wall clock and then glanced toward the front entrance. Someone yelled at him to get his attention back to the game. He was distracted. I felt a pinch in my heart.
Was he waiting for me?
Oh, Caleb, what am I going to do with you?
The squeeze in my heart was getting uncomfortable. I took a deep breath.
No one had ever paid attention to me like Caleb did, and no one had affected me this much, no one I really wanted. It flattered me and made me feel very special because he could have gotten any girl he wanted, but he chose me.
I liked him. A lot. I was so very, very close to giving in. Could I do it? Could I trust him?
My fear of getting hurt was stronger than my like for him. I barely knew him. What if he only liked me because I was a challenge, and once I gave in, he would spit me out faster than I could blink? How much of myself was I willing to lose?
Nothing, I thought. I had no plans of giving up any part of myself. I didn’t want to be like my mother. This boy would break my heart.
* * *
My mother and father were married for three years before they adopted me. They couldn’t have kids and my father really wanted children, so they got me. We were happy until I turned five, when my father lost his job and started gambling and drinking and whoring.
I remembered waking up in the middle of the night as he stumbled into our small studio apartment drunk as a skunk, throwing things around, blaming me for losing his job, for not having kids, for starting the bad luck that he couldn’t shake since they adopted me.
I was five. I didn’t understand back then. All I knew was that this man—who I’d thought was my father, who had loved me like his daughter and bounced me on his lap and carried me on his shoulders—terrified me now.
He burst in my room, mad as a bull, banging the door against the wall. I thought he was going to kill me. Petrified, I huddled in my blanket in the corner of my room. He was about to smack me in the head when my mother yelled for him to stop.
He turned on her instead and started slapping her.
I hated him with a passion. This man, the only man I loved, broke my heart into pieces. My heart had never been whole after that night.
He left us for a while, but he kept coming back and my mother just…accepted him. I didn’t understand it. She was a strong woman, and yet when this man came in her life, she lost her self-respect and pride, allowing him to abuse her time and time again. I loved my mother very much, but I think I resented her a little for it.
From then on, I swore never to be like her. I would not let myself fall in love with someone and lose myself. I may have serious issues, but I wasn’t interested in anyone fixing me.
Even when she was dying, she called out his name. He never showed up.
* * *
Caleb is different, my subconscious argued. Caleb is not like your father.
He was sweet and kind, funny and immature sometimes, but he was always there if I needed help. No matter how hard I pushed him away, he just kept coming back for more. He had to be masochistic.
Our eyes met.
I wasn’t being completely honest with myself, because at that moment, when his face broke into a grin as he waved at me, I felt like he had me in the palm of his hand.
I took a deep breath. Everything was okay. I liked him, and I had already admitted that to myself. I could pull away whenever I wanted to. I would not let myself fall for him. My self-preservation was stronger than anything else.
The coach called a time-out. Caleb’s smile was from ear to ear as he sauntered toward me like he’d already won the game and I was his prize. I couldn’t help smiling back. Several girls approached him and tried to engage him in conversation. He just gave them a polite smile, shook his head, and continued over to me.
It’s me he wants.