“He said he’d call me and he didn’t. There’s no big story to tell, OK?” I look down at my feet. “He just wasn’t interested and I feel dumb now. So, can we just go?” I plead.
“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry. I had no idea,” my sister gently grabs my hand and holds her daughter with her other arm. “Let’s get out of here,” she tugs me behind her, guiding me to the stairs.
We turn up and begin climbing to the exit at the top. I feel like I could cry at any second, the lump in my throat building. Each step that I take is putting the distance I need between Cameron and I. That’s what I want, right?
“Chelsea!”
I turn my head slightly as I think I hear my name, but keep following my sister upward. The stadium is almost bare now. It’s incredible how quickly it can go from being bursting with life to as vacant as the night Cameron brought me here to look at the stars with him.
“Chelsea! Wait up!”
That wasn’t my imagination. I stop in my tracks and turn around just as Cameron closes the last step between us. He ran up here from the field? To talk to me? What does he want?
“Chelsea, please wait,” he pants, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
I don’t mean to hold my breath. I don’t want the world to slide away and for my focus to narrow in on him. On his deep blue eyes, rooting my feet in place.
“I can’t talk, I have to go,” I blurt out, but my body won’t budge.
“Please, just give me five minutes,” he reaches out and grasps my arm.
My resolve evaporates. Along with my bravado and my good sense.
“OK, five minutes.”
----
Cameron
M y mind is like one of those snowy channels I tried in desperation to watch porn on, as a teenager. It’s essentially blank, but with brief glimpses of fucking always lurking in the void.
How is it that I knew exactly what I wanted to say to her, but now that she’s listening, I’m scrambling to put a sentence together? I look into Chelsea’s gorgeous eyes and my mind spins like tires in the mud. My heart is hammering in my chest and it’s not just because of those stairs I just ran. She makes me feel like an awkward teenager, fumbling around with a bra strap in the dark, no game and no damned experience.
“I saw you right before the last play,” I finally force words from my mouth. “I thought we weren’t gonna pull it out like that, but we did. You must be my good luck charm or something,” I step up to the concrete stair she stopped on, looking down into her face. With her butterscotch skin and cotton candy lips, I remember that she tasted just as sweet on my tongue as any sugary treat.
“Anyway,” I continue, trying to fill the awkward void with noise, “I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.”
“Oh well, goodbye.” She looks up at Lauren and my eyes follow hers. I’m no academic, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that these two ladies aren’t my biggest fans right now.
Can I blame them? Chelsea and I had a night I still can’t shake from my mind and then I never got a hold of her again. Judging from the kid Lauren gave birth to that night resting in her arms, I’d say that was about a year ago.
“Hey,” I run my tongue over my teeth, “listen, I should’ve called you. Let me take you out. I wanna make it up to you.” A spider web of fine lines appears over her freckles as she scrunches her nose at me.
“I, uh, can’t.” She looks at her hands. “I’m busy.”
“You’re not a great liar, you know that?”
Her mouth twists up like a knot and she throws back her shoulders, “How dare you call me a liar,” she puffs up. “You think I don’t have anything going on? Like I couldn’t possibly be busy?” I let her pick up steam. I like seeing this side of her. Like a little firecracker.
“I’m not saying that,” I can’t help but smirk, “you probably do have a lot going on. But, you are definitely lying.”
“Who do you think you are?” Her eyebrows furrow
“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry. I had no idea,” my sister gently grabs my hand and holds her daughter with her other arm. “Let’s get out of here,” she tugs me behind her, guiding me to the stairs.
We turn up and begin climbing to the exit at the top. I feel like I could cry at any second, the lump in my throat building. Each step that I take is putting the distance I need between Cameron and I. That’s what I want, right?
“Chelsea!”
I turn my head slightly as I think I hear my name, but keep following my sister upward. The stadium is almost bare now. It’s incredible how quickly it can go from being bursting with life to as vacant as the night Cameron brought me here to look at the stars with him.
“Chelsea! Wait up!”
That wasn’t my imagination. I stop in my tracks and turn around just as Cameron closes the last step between us. He ran up here from the field? To talk to me? What does he want?
“Chelsea, please wait,” he pants, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
I don’t mean to hold my breath. I don’t want the world to slide away and for my focus to narrow in on him. On his deep blue eyes, rooting my feet in place.
“I can’t talk, I have to go,” I blurt out, but my body won’t budge.
“Please, just give me five minutes,” he reaches out and grasps my arm.
My resolve evaporates. Along with my bravado and my good sense.
“OK, five minutes.”
----
Cameron
M y mind is like one of those snowy channels I tried in desperation to watch porn on, as a teenager. It’s essentially blank, but with brief glimpses of fucking always lurking in the void.
How is it that I knew exactly what I wanted to say to her, but now that she’s listening, I’m scrambling to put a sentence together? I look into Chelsea’s gorgeous eyes and my mind spins like tires in the mud. My heart is hammering in my chest and it’s not just because of those stairs I just ran. She makes me feel like an awkward teenager, fumbling around with a bra strap in the dark, no game and no damned experience.
“I saw you right before the last play,” I finally force words from my mouth. “I thought we weren’t gonna pull it out like that, but we did. You must be my good luck charm or something,” I step up to the concrete stair she stopped on, looking down into her face. With her butterscotch skin and cotton candy lips, I remember that she tasted just as sweet on my tongue as any sugary treat.
“Anyway,” I continue, trying to fill the awkward void with noise, “I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.”
“Oh well, goodbye.” She looks up at Lauren and my eyes follow hers. I’m no academic, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that these two ladies aren’t my biggest fans right now.
Can I blame them? Chelsea and I had a night I still can’t shake from my mind and then I never got a hold of her again. Judging from the kid Lauren gave birth to that night resting in her arms, I’d say that was about a year ago.
“Hey,” I run my tongue over my teeth, “listen, I should’ve called you. Let me take you out. I wanna make it up to you.” A spider web of fine lines appears over her freckles as she scrunches her nose at me.
“I, uh, can’t.” She looks at her hands. “I’m busy.”
“You’re not a great liar, you know that?”
Her mouth twists up like a knot and she throws back her shoulders, “How dare you call me a liar,” she puffs up. “You think I don’t have anything going on? Like I couldn’t possibly be busy?” I let her pick up steam. I like seeing this side of her. Like a little firecracker.
“I’m not saying that,” I can’t help but smirk, “you probably do have a lot going on. But, you are definitely lying.”
“Who do you think you are?” Her eyebrows furrow
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