by Sierra Hill
Call it gut instinct or whatever, but something’s definitely going on with her.
It could be just the strain and readjustment of getting back into the academic school year. We’re both on the basketball teams at our respective schools, and team practices have just begun in preparation for the upcoming season. Lyndsay is also still grieving the loss of her dad, who died suddenly last May, right in the middle of finals.
We grieved together over the summer, in between basketball training camps and our summer jobs. She originally wasn’t planning on coming home to Tucson, but after her dad’s death, she came home to be with her mom and younger siblings. I was selfishly glad she did. I needed to be with her; spend time with her; remind her how good we are together.
But that didn’t last long. Now that she’s back in Albuquerque, she doesn’t have time for me anymore. Or more like make the time for me. The vibe I got when I visited her is that I was a nuisance. She acts like it’s a chore to hang out with me around her friends, her dorm – her life.
When I pressed her on the subject, asking what was going on with her, she brushed it off, scoffing at me like I was stupid to think there’s something wrong between us. Or with her. Nothing has changed with me. I’m still the same. I’m still in love with her. But it hurts to know she may not feel the same way about me anymore.
My friends call me pussy whipped; I suppose I am. But Lyndsay is my best friend. We’ve been together for a long time. She knows everything there is to know about me. She’s practically part of my family, and understands what things are like living with my older brother, Dougie.
My thoughts are interrupted when a basketball flies into my chest. Hard.
I rub at the spot, blinking through the pain as I watch the ball bounce off the court.
“Ow…what du fuck, man?”
My teammate, Christian Lancaster, a center power forward, gives me a mocking laugh.
“Dude, if you were paying attention to what’s going on here, you wouldn’t be whining like a pansy-ass.” He struts over and stands facing me. “What is your deal today? What bug crawled up your ass?”
My eyebrows raise in question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, bruh.”
Another scoffing grunt and he jogs to the sideline to pick up the discarded ball, quickly handing it off to me as he returns to my side.
“Van, your head is so fucking far in the clouds, even Jesus and his angels can’t reach ya.”
What a dope. Maybe I am a little out of it today, though. I haven’t slept well the last few nights. Got lots on my mind.
Specifically, I’ve been thinking about two girls. One that’s possibly fucking around on me. And the other, quite honestly, that’s fucking up my head.
Kylah Griffin.
My guilt over how I feel about her right now is so high that they should cuff me and charge me with indecent thoughts.
Nothing has happened between us – at all. And it wouldn’t. I’ve been completely faithful to Lyndsay during my entire college career. I’ve never once touched or kissed another girl – even though I’ve had ample opportunity.
I met Kylah, Cade’s younger sister, at the end of last week. She’s home on fall break from her California college and has been spending time at Cade’s apartment day-and-night. The same place I’ve been hanging around to keep my mind off what’s going on with Lyndsay.
For whatever reason, Kylah and I have just clicked as friends. She’s a sweet girl. Smart. Shy. Beautiful in the girl-next-door vibe. We’ve bonded over our interest in Game of Thrones and Marvel super-hero movies. Kylah is a bit of a geek-girl, which I find fascinating. And she’s a great listener. Not that I’ve told her much about my personal life, because that would be a lot to digest, but she’s been a great distraction for me. If I didn’t have her around, I think I’d have lost my mind. The guys’ have no clue what’s going on in my life and there’s no way I can tell them. They’d only make more fun of me for being such a love-sick pussy. Obviously I am, since I can’t concentrate on a damn thing in practice.
“Sorry, man.”
I dribble the ball down the court, weaving in and out of the red shirts we’re working with on drills today. “I do have a lot on my mind.”
At six-foot-ten, Christian pivots in front and blocks me as I take a shot from the three-point line. The ball leaves my hand, arcing up and then down, hitting the rim of the basket before ricocheting off, getting picked off by the red shirt team. Fuck. I’ve been working on my three-pointers over the summer, but apparently my technique is also off today along with everything else.
Lancaster and I run down the length of the court, posting up in our man-to-man defense. We do this for another twenty minutes – up and down the court – dribbling, passing, blocking, screening, shooting. Finally, the assistant coach blows the whistle and we head into the locker room to shower and change.
Cade, Lance and Carver all walk in front of me down the corridor, joking about something that happened recently at a party. I’m a few paces behind them when Cade holds back a little to allow me to catch up.
“Yo, Van. Heard you’ve been hanging with my sister this past week.”
The expression on his face is unreadable. Is he pissed that I’ve been chilling with Kylah? Does he think something’s going on between us? Shit. I’ve got to put a stop to any conjecture or misinterpretation of our friendship. Because that’s all there is with Kylah. She’s a friend.
Cade clamps his hand down on my shoulder. Actually, he has to lift his arm a bit, because at six-foot-seven, I’m taller than him by two inches. He outweighs me, though, by a good ten pounds. His grip tightens for a second and then he laughs.
“Whoa. You okay there, bud? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
I wave him off. “Nah, I’m good. Didn’t eat much this morning.”
“Ah, man. I ate a shit ton. Ainsley made us all a huge breakfast. That’s when Ky brought you up. She mentioned you’d been watching Game of Thrones with her.”
I try to keep my breathing even and the timber of my voice to sound normal. Instead of jittery and nervous. I don’t even know why the hell I am. There’s nothing wrong with what me and Kylah have going on. Like he said, we’ve just been watching TV.
“Oh, yeah. That. It wasn’t only us. Lance was there too.” I sound kind of defensive now, like I am guilty of something.
Cade quirks his mouth up into a sideways smile and nods his head.
“That’s cool. But Ky couldn’t stop talking about you. Said you guys might go to the Twenty One Pilots show next month when she’s back during the holidays.”
Wow. The way he puts it sounds like a date, but that’s not at all how it is. We did talk about going together, along with others, though nothing was lined up. We don’t even have tickets yet and not sure we can even get some. I just happened to mention in passing that I was thinking about getting tickets because they’re my favorite band. There’s no way that Lyndsay would want to go with me. She doesn’t like crowds or going to see live music. She’s more of a country music fan – Luke Bryan or Eric Church. Where I’m not into the same scene.
“Maybe…we’ll see. Not sure yet if tickets are even available.”
We wind our way into the locker room and I open up my locker. My first instinct is to check my phone for any call or text from Lyndsay. Our schedules are so vastly different that it can be hit or miss on getting to talk to her any more. It’s actually starting to piss me off. Our skipping daily chats has been happening more and more frequently and I don’t like it. In fact, I’m becoming resentful and disenfranchised.
I press the button and the phone lights up with several text messages. Two from my mom about Dougie and his new therapist. The other from an unknown number. Much to my dismay, but not surprise, none are there from Lyndsay.
I frown.
Curious as to what the unknown number is all about, I open it up.
Unknown: Hi Van. It’s Kylah. Hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from L
ance today.
Unknown: I know you’re probably busy, but the new Avengers movie is out this week. I really want to go, but don’t have anyone to go with. Thought I’d ask you. Want to go?
Unknown: With me?
Unknown: Or not. Whatevs.
Unknown: If not, that’s tots cool. No biggie. Either way, let me know. TTYL.
I read the texts again, all coming in about an hour earlier in quick succession. A smile grows unbidden across my lips where the grimace caused by my girlfriend had just been hovering. I can envision Kylah, in all her shy awkwardness, getting up the nerve to text me. She’s adorably sweet. She reminds me of a Ladybug. Or butterfly. One of those harmless, yet beautiful creatures, that always make you smile when they’re present.
I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching as I type out a text back to her.
Me: Hey Kylah. Just finished practice. Not sure if it’ll fit in with my schedule, but we’ll see.
I press send and then worry my response may be too brisk. Although I don’t know her all that well, my guess is she has tender feelings and can get hurt pretty easily.
Me: Thanks for asking, btw. I’ll let you know.
A response comes flashing across my screen a second later.
Unknown: Cool. Sounds good. And I totally understand if you can’t go. No pressure. I can go alone, too. It would mean more popcorn for me, anyway.
I laugh out loud, garnering a sideways glance from Carver whose shirtless by his locker and about to strip out of his jock strap.
Hoping to avoid any further attention, I lock my phone and place it back in my cubby, and head toward the bank of showers. I pass my teammates, all in various stages of undress, and consider the exchange I just had with Kylah.
If we go to the movie together, would that be weird? I mean, if Lyndsay asked me, would it feel like a betrayal to her? Is it cheating if I go to a movie with a girl who’s not your girlfriend? Kylah and I are just friends, like she said. I barely know her. And with the exception of a few rather impure thoughts that I’ve had about her, I’d never act on them. What guy doesn’t have fantasies about women? I’m not a monk, but I’m definitely not a cheater. So regardless of whether my eyes or thoughts roam, my hands remain true.
Plus, there’s also an issue with her brother, Cade. He’s made it very clear that everyone is to stay away from his sisters. Yeah, Kylah has a twin sister named Kady. I haven’t met her, but some of the guys who’ve knew Cade from high school, have been introduced. From what I hear, Kady is the wilder of the two twins and goes to school in Colorado.
I consider the whole movie thing again. Am I over simplifying it? Or trying to justify my actions? One thing’s for sure. If I do end up going to the movie with Kylah, I will definitely tell Lyndsay about it. She deserves to know and understand that it’s strictly platonic. There is nothing to be afraid of.
Convincing myself of that fact, though, seems a lot harder to do.
It’s still early in the afternoon and I’ve been back in my dorm for a few hours now. After the class I had this morning, and the energy-consuming early morning practice, my eyes can barely remain open to study. I’ve always been a pretty studious guy. Maybe it’s because it keeps me out of trouble. Otherwise, I might fall into the trap that most college guys my age fall into – partying too hard and finding ways to hook up with every girl they meet. By keeping my head in the books and solely focused on basketball, I’ve stayed clear from the temptations that surround me. I don’t ever want Lyndsay to doubt me.
Yet it feels like that’s backfired on me, because I’m the one who suddenly doubts her faithfulness.
My phone sits on top of one of my books…like a proverbial ‘little red devil’ tempting me to respond to Kylah with a “I’m in” reply to her question about the movie. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I read the text earlier.
Dropping my highlighter into the crease of my stats book, I run my hands through my hair, which I left loose after my shower, and exhale a deep and frustrated sigh. I fight the urge to text her back, by instead dialing Lyndsay.
It rings three times and then she finally answers. She sounds out of breath.
“Hey,” she answers, the noise in the background nearly drowning out her voice. “I was gonna call you later.”
I’ve never doubted her intentions, but for some reason, I do right now. I called her last night and again this morning and never heard anything back from her. Just the thought that she may be ignoring my calls makes my blood boil hot. And it’s obvious in the tone of my reply.
“Yeah, when exactly? Next week, perhaps?” I shut my eyes tight, angry more at myself for letting my frustration get to me.
There’s a pause on the line. A rustling in the background. A muffled voice.
What the fuck?
“Where are you right now?” I snipe, barely holding on to my contained rage and jealousy.
Her response doesn’t douse my anger, but instead ignites it even further.
“Just at a friend’s. We’re watching a movie.”
“Which friend?”
“Julia and Izzy’s.”
Plausible. They are her two best friends and teammates. But it’s three o’clock in the afternoon. Why would they be watching a movie together during a school day?
“What movie?” I sound like an interrogator and she’s the perp I’m questioning. But something’s not sitting right with me. My bullshit meter is off-the-charts. I’ve never had reason to doubt what she says and honestly, I don’t know why I do right now. Everything about this makes me twitchy inside. Uncomfortable. The fact that I don’t trust her and what she’s saying makes my gut hurt. Sick to my stomach, in fact.
“Uh…I can’t remember the name. It’s with Steve Carrell.”
Now I’m even more suspicious. Lyndsay has never been a fan of comedies. She likes the sappy, chick-flicks like The Notebook and The Vow. Whenever I tried to get her to watch a comedy of any sort, she turned it down. Or if she did watch it with me, she’d be on her phone the entire time, browsing Facebook or Twitter. Which was fine, because I watched those types of movies with my brother or friends. The fact that she’s watching one now…with her two girlfriends, has the hairs on the back of my neck tingling.
I hear another muffled sound in the background. Then she lets out a noise that sounds an awful lot like a moan. Then silence. Then she speaks again.
“Hey babe…can I call you later? Julia just told me to pipe down so she can hear the movie. I’ll call you tonight after dinner. K?”
I’m fucking pissed. I haven’t had a real conversation with Lynds for several days and now she’s fucking blowing me off so one of her friends can watch a movie?
Instead of calling her out on her bullshit, I decide to use a different tactic. See if she bites. Find out if she’s interested in me at all right now. I know it’s a passive-aggressive thing to do – like stooping to the lowest of lows - but it’s what I feel.
“You can try, but I’m going to a movie tonight. With Cade’s sister Kylah.”
Without even a shred of question, she responds without hesitation. “That’s nice…sounds fun. I’ll call you tomorrow then. Bye, babe.”
And before I can even say goodbye, the call ends and I’m left with a rock in the pit of my stomach. I just told my girlfriend of nearly five years that I’m going to a movie – with another chick – and she didn’t even blink. Not so much as an ounce of interest, worry or concern.
I stare at the phone clutched in my hand, looking at it as if it has some hidden answer as to what just transpired. I’m not even sure I can put a name on what I’m feeling right now. The most descriptive term would be hurt.
Lyndsay’s reaction to me during that brief one minute and thirty second conversation is something that has never occurred before. I’ve always been a priority for her, and vice versa. She’d drop everything to talk to me if she could. That’s how our relationship has worked. We don’t have the luxury of seeing each other every
day, so we made good use of our phone time, Facetime and Skype sessions to talk and stay connected. And let me tell you, a lot of phone sex occurred.
This? This utter disregard for me and the quick brush off she gave me? It’s only heightened my awareness that something is horribly wrong. And I will find out as soon as I am able.
But in the meantime, I shoot a quick text to Kylah to let her know I’m interested in seeing the movie with her.
At least one thing is for certain.
My friend Kylah wants to spend time with me, even if my girlfriend doesn’t have the time of day for me.
And whether she knows it or not, I need Kylah’s friendship to sooth the hurt that’s growing like a weed in my heart.
3
Kylah
I just about shit a brick when I read Van’s response to me late yesterday afternoon.
Van: I’m in for the movie. How about 7:30 tomorrow night. Meet at Cade’s?
He’d accepted my invite to go see the movie with me. I’ve been bouncing off the walls ever since, barely able to contain myself. I’m sure in the lives of most girls, this isn’t such a big deal. A movie date with a guy they like. But for those of us who have only been on a few dates in our lives, this is huge.
It’s not a date.
I have to keep reminding myself of that fairly significant detail. Even though I am crushing on Van like nobody’s business, I’m not stupid enough to think this is anything more than a friend outing. We are clearly in the friend zone, for more than one reason.
In fact, he’s probably right this very minute asking himself how he can get out of it. He’s my older brother’s friend and likely views me just like all of Cade’s other friends - like the sweet little sister they love to pick on. Just as Carver is doing right now as I sit at the kitchen table in their apartment, waiting not-so-patiently for Van to show up.
“Aw…isn’t that cute? Ky-Ky got all dressed up for her big, hot date tonight!”
I glare at Carver with all the meanness I can muster. Which isn’t much. He sees right through me.
