Falling for Seven

by T. A Richards Neville

  “You never bring anyone round here.”

  “You sound just like Taj.”

  “You especially don’t bring anyone here for schoolwork.”

  “You say that like I’m the class dummy.”

  My mom smiled, seeing right through me. “So who is she?” she asked, dodging my tone that said I didn’t want to talk about it like a curveball.

  “She’s coach’s daughter, so nothing is going on.”

  “Are you bringing her back here?”

  “No.”

  “Taj said she signs.” My mom sipped her wine, watching me too observantly. It was putting me on edge.

  “Yeah, for the pure joy. She doesn’t even know anyone that’s deaf.”

  “She knows Taj.”

  “She doesn’t know Taj,” I said, stretching my legs out in front of me. “I think it’s fucking weird that someone signs and they don’t need to. She’s a do-gooder, probably feels sorry for me.”

  My mom frowned, tipping her head toward Taj. “Don’t swear in front of your brother.”

  “He can’t hear.”

  “Doesn’t matter. And why should she feel sorry for you? You’re not deaf. Unless you are ashamed.”

  I dropped the signing. “I’m not ashamed,” I said, growing pissed. “What the fuck have I got to be ashamed of?”

  “So what’s the big deal?”

  She knew what the big deal was, she just didn’t want to say it. But what did it matter to me that Angel could sign and had a braindead loser for a boyfriend? What the fuck was I so angry about?

  “Sounds to me like you’ve got yourself a king-size crush.”

  Yeah, and I don’t want her to know my secrets.

  I grunted at my mom’s dumb smile. She was being deadly serious. “She’s not my type,” I said. “And I don’t crush on people. I’m not thirteen anymore.” I lifted my top, pointing at my rock-hard abs. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

  My mom pretended to be surprised. “Oh, you aren’t? Then stop acting like it.”

  “I’m going out,” I said, ready for a break. “You’re off tonight, right?”

  “Yes. Go. Take your key, I’m going to bed early. I’m beat.”

  I stood up and leaned over the couch to kiss her on the cheek. Dark circles showed like faded bruises under her eyes and I reminded myself I was entering the Draft early for other people as well as myself. “See you later.” I scrubbed a hand over Taj’s hair and he batted me away with a grunt.

  Watch it, I signed

  Upstairs, I took a five minute shower and then changed into jeans and a gray T-shirt, then I was out the door and on my way to Nicky’s. Music was pumping through the open window and I didn’t bother knocking. In the living room Rixton and Dan were both sat on the floor battling it out in a game of Need for Speed.

  “What’s goin’ on, Seven,” Dan said without looking up. “Surprised you can walk after that practice.”

  “It’ll take more than a few drills to put me on my ass.” I sat down on the couch, dropping my head onto the back cushion. The door to Nicky’s room opened and his footsteps stalled in front of me. I kept my eyes closed as the space beside me dipped. “Where’d you shoot off to after practice? You seal the bet yet? You know I won’t forget that shit.”

  “No,” I said, eyes still closed.

  “The great Seven’s not chickening out, is he?”

  “Fuck off,” I said, agitation taking over. “Don’t worry yourself over the bet. I never lose. I’m taking my time, that’s all.”

  “I don’t know, man. It’s not like she’s nobody, is it? Coach gets wind you fucked his daughter for a scabby bet, you’ll be off the team. And at this rate I’ll bed her before you do.”

  “What?”

  My eyes snapped open, my head turning to find Kit standing in front of the window.

  “Oh, shit,” Nicky curled a fist over his mouth, laughing.

  “I never heard you come in,” was all I could think to say.

  Kit’s expression was flat. “The door was open. I saw your car and…”

  “We were just talking shit,” Nicky said, his salvation not sounding in the least believable.

  Kit shifted, her hand swiping her hair behind her ear. I studied her face, wondering how much of that she had heard. Just as her lips twitched ready to speak, she blinked and then left.

  “Fuck,” I growled, getting up to go after her. “Kit!” I shouted, jerking her to a stop. She jolted on the spot but she refused to look at me. “Would you hear me out?”

  “What’s to hear?” Her voice was thick with tears.

  I yanked on her elbow with more force, until she had no choice but to look at me. “You tell me,” I said.

  “I heard enough to know what you are doing. You’re going to sleep with Angel for a bet.”

  I felt my mouth pinch with stress. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people. And I’m not going to go through with it, so you’d be better off keeping your mouth shut.”

  “You better not,” she said, her eyes turning glassy. That sounded like a threat. “Because I’ll tell her. I swear I will, Jules.”

  “Why, what do you care? You think you’re friends? You think you bringing her around here all the time means I won’t go after her? You are dead fucking wrong. I do what I want.”

  “That’s you all over, isn’t it? You don’t give a shit about anyone around you. You don’t care how I might feel.” She snatched her arm from my grasp, tilting backwards from the effort. She was wrong if she thought I was going to let her storm off and blab all over the fucking campus. So I did what I always did. I wrapped my fingers around the back of her neck and lowered my lips onto hers, shutting her up in a kiss I knew she was waiting for. She was breathless by the time I was finished, and normally I would try and finish this off someplace more private, but today wasn’t one of those days.

  “There’s no bet,” I said, my fingers still on the skin of her neck. She looked up at me, desperate to believe it. “And I hate arguing with you. Can we forget this?”

  “I guess so.” She nodded grudgingly, and I was awash with temporary ease.

  8: Angel

  THINKING OF SEEING JORDAN tonight was exhausting. I wanted to see him right this second, but I knew pushing him was a bad idea. If space was what he needed, then I would give him space. I tried to focus on now. The hours weren’t going to pass any quicker because I was obsessing over them.

  I stopped staring blankly at the screen of my laptop, my relapsed focus sharpening, and continued to read my dad’s email. He had found me a new trainer, and not just any trainer—Olga Nikolaev was an international award winning superstar. She was Russian and as far as I was concerned, she was the best. She had only retired from competitive skating a year earlier at only thirty two and I knew her high demand would be through the roof. My dad being my dad had out paid them all. I was meeting her at 12p.m. Saturday. I emailed back with a swift thanks but no thanks and told him my university coaches would do just fine.

  I didn’t need to wait long for a reply. My cell rang out on the desk next to the computer screen, my dad’s display name making me rub my hand across my forehead in exasperation.

  I picked up.

  “I’ll make this quick because I have important game tape to watch. What in God’s name do you think you are playing at? Olga is booked and she wasn’t cheap, young lady.” His irate voice boomed down the phone even though he was little more than whispering. Very, very angry whispering.

  “I have coaches. There’s nothing Olga can teach me that they can’t.” not totally true, but I was sick to death of my dad hanging his money over my head. It was another way he controlled me and I’d had my fill of being controlled. It wasn’t even his freakin’ money.

  “Do you hear how ridiculous you sound? Olga is the best there is. You won’t get to the Olympics without her. You WILL be there on Saturday, Angel, or so help me god—”

  “I’m not going. Cancel, or pay for a no-show.” I wasn’t even s
ure anymore that I wanted anything to do with the Olympics. My dad wanted it more than me and I was only just starting to notice.

  His blown out breath was rough down the phone. “We’ll discuss this tonight, now isn’t a good time.”

  I could all but feel him pacing his office, his face on the turn of coloring beet-red.

  “No, we won’t.” I wasn’t backing down on this. “I am visiting Nellie tonight. I won’t change my mind, it’s as simple as that. Cancel… I mean it.”

  “Who do you think you are? I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I won’t stand for your bullshit. You are a spoilt brat. I didn’t take this rubbish off your crazy mother and I certainly won’t from you!”

  I cut short the goodbyes and hung up, wishing I had a real phone that I could slam down repeatedly into its cradle. He wouldn’t know I was venting my frustration like that but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better.

  I skipped a shower and grabbed my skates. Mia watched me silently, glancing up every time I took my rage out on a door or item of clothing. At the minute it was my hair. I raked it up into a ponytail like it was the one thing I hated the most in the world.

  “Angel.”

  I turned around, ready to leave the dorm and lay all my anger on the ice.

  Mia stared at me through her thick-rimmed glasses, her face devoid of expression. “I have a bottle of Jack under my bed,” she deadpanned.

  My eyebrows pulled in at her unusual and flat statement.

  She shrugged and then moved her attention to her schoolwork.

  The walk to the campus ice rink wasn’t that far and I made it there with an hour to spare. I was wearing lightweight, thermal leggings, a tank top and my pink pullover, then finished it all off with black gloves and leg warmers over my skates. One of the coaches, Miss Tiera, was already on the ice with the skate team and Mrs. Burdell, the head coach. We were putting on a show in a few weeks and it was time to ‘go home or go hard’. Not my words, but the coaches. The skate team didn’t have a massive following, it was mostly families, staff, and probably half the total number of students attending. Football and Ice Hockey would always bring in the main crowds, but I wasn’t in it for the glory. None of the team were. We just loved it. Skating isn’t what you do, it’s what you are—who you are.

  I took long strides into a warm up lap, the sound of my skates along the ice an instant soother. Miss Tiera skated alongside me and I slowed to match her pace. “Angel…”

  Just the way she said my name had me groaning. “What?”

  “Kyla is in hospital with a fractured ankle.”

  “She’s Calvin’s partner—” My eyes widened. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. It’s bad.”

  “Poor Kyla. What does that mean for Calvin?” I kept on at a second lap, just starting to warm up.

  “Angel, you are already our best skater. Kyla was second strongest to you. I’m hoping you’ll partner with him for the show.” I parted my lips to object. “Please? You can still do your solo piece. The team needs you. I need you.” She was pleading with me, making it really hard to say no to her. Not impossible…

  I was flabbergasted and completely backed into a corner. “Two routines in one night? I don’t even have my own perfected. And I don’t normally skate with a partner.”

  “If anyone can do it, you can. It’s nothing. And Calvin is a wonderful teacher, he really knows his stuff. The rink is yours whenever you need it, and he’s such a team player. Together you will blow the rest of the university away—show them what figure skating is all about.”

  She sounded a lot like Marcus, my Sociology professor. I wondered if they were married and shared inspirational tidbits before bed.

  “I know he’s great,” I said on a sigh. “Him and Kyla are solid together.” There was only one way out of this. “I’ll do it.”

  Miss Tiera squeezed my hand, smiling at me. I could see her relief lifting like a burst of air. “You saved all our lives. Thank you.”

  I collected a CD from Calvin for our routine and watched his version of what he could do on his own. It didn’t look quite the same without a partner, but the dance was original and complicated enough that I would have to throw myself right into this one every chance I got. There were three lifts in the routine and only two weeks to put all my trust in Calvin that he wouldn’t drop me face first onto the ice. His abilities as a skater couldn’t be faltered and I was confident I wouldn’t have that much to worry about.

  “Well, whaddya think?” Calvin asked, coming off the ice with a fixed smile lighting up his eyes. He looked happy enough about his performance for the two of us.

  “Kate Bush, Running up that hill?” I asked, rising to me feet. “That’s kind of intense.”

  “Great for the routine, though, don’t you think?”

  “Sure.” I nodded. I might not have been a fan of the song, but Calvin’s talent could be fitted to pretty much anything. Put my dad out there with a ukulele and it would probably work.

  After my last class, I drove out to Glenvale, anxious to see Nellie. Every day was a step into the unknown with her and I prayed that today was one of her better days.

  She looked sullen when I found her in her room, sitting in a chair by her bed.

  “Nell?”

  She looked at me and smiled, but it didn’t reach anywhere near the vacancy in her eyes. Her hair was back in a neat and tidy twist, and I suspected Jennifer was the person behind it. “Could you help me find my Bible? I put it down before the news and for the life of me, I can’t find it anywhere.”

  I helped scour the tiny room while Nellie rustled around behind me, pulling out drawers and throwing back the bed covers. “Where is it?” she said, growing more agitated. She moved trinkets, ornaments and furniture, each empty hiding place uncovered bringing on another wave of frantic behavior. Her pale blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I had it, and now I’ve lost it.”

  She rubbed at her temples in distress and I reached for her wrists, guiding her back into her seat. She whipped out her arm, throwing off my grasp. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and her shoulders shook with a visible tremor.

  “Grandma,” I said, my words treading with great care. “It’s okay.”

  “I had it!” she screamed at me. “I had it!” Her eyes grew wide and she jumped from her seat, throwing out her hands, each sloppy jab aimed at me. This wasn’t the first time she’d attacked someone, but what used to be a seldom outburst of violence was becoming more frequent.

  I wrestled her arms to her side and forced her down into her seat, keeping her arms pinned in place. She was small but it was taking all my energy to keep her there. “Nurse!” I called, then I said to Nellie, “Where did you have it? We’ll retrace your steps. Maybe you had it in the dining room, or the dayroom?” I backed away when she calmed down and appeared to be thinking about what I’d asked her. Her panting gradually evened out. “Or the garden?” I suggested. “You like being outside. You could have taken it with you.”

  She looked up at me, the tears still dripping. “I can’t remember,” she sobbed. “I keep forgetting.”

  I pressed her hand down onto her lap and wrapped my fingers over her skin. “I know,” I said, soothing. “But I’m here. I will help you find it.”

  “I’m forgetting everything.”

  “So we’ll write stuff down.” It was the most stupid suggestion in the world. It wouldn’t help, her disease was beyond that.

  She flipped her hand, palms up, and held mine tightly, her stare ripping into me. “Don’t leave me again. Will you stay?”

  “Of course I will. I’ll stay for as long as you want me to.”

  “I’m scared.”

  I wiped the back of my hand over my eyes before any tears could fall. “Me too.” Her hold on my hands intensified, her thin bones full of a foreign strength.

  A muted dripping followed our silence, but I was the only one who noticed.

  I cast my gaze downwards, to the puddle forming around Nelli
e’s feet, darkening a small patch on the carpet. I smiled sadly, unsure if she knew what had happened.

  The nurse arrived and got to work cleaning up the carpet while I took Nellie into the bathroom and helped her clean up. She changed into her nightie and I asked if she could eat dinner in her room with me. Once she was propped up in bed, I turned off the TV and instead put on one of her CD’S. The 1940’s music flowed through the room, the low-drone of the woman’s magnetic voice lifting the cap on my heavy mood. Nellie tipped her head back and her lips turned up in a faint smile.

  “Do you feel better?” I asked, arranging her pillows around her.

  She lowered her head, the sharpness of her eyes eclipsing her earlier smile. “I meant what I said. You mustn’t leave me. The nurses are trying to kill me.”

  “I’m not trying to kill you.”

  “Not you. The other nurses. You must keep them away. Keep them all away.” She yawned, the hollow skin around her eyes tinged in pink from tiredness.

  Nellie was asleep before her dinner tray could arrive and I left her alone, turning off the CD player before I went. She looked peaceful, but on the inside her mind was tormented. I got the attention of one of the nurses with hopes of restoring the Bible to Nellie so she would have it when she woke up. I thanked the nurse for helping me and took the Bible from inside the refrigerator, tucking it under Nellie’s fingers.

  “Sleep tight,” I whispered.

  Silencing my better judgement, I took a call from my dad on the way home from Glenvale. I was once again reminded of the statistics of teenage pregnancy ‘especially among Hispanics!!’ and I was invited to my pop’s birthday dinner Saturday night.

  “I expect you to be there,” my dad had said. “Pregnant or not.” And then he chuckled his way into me hanging up on him for the second time today. There was no doubt that he thought he was funny, but he was the only one that enjoyed his humor, and the only one in the world who got it.

  <>

  Back in my dorm, I flopped down onto my bed, my head and my heart both sore to the point of bursting to pieces. Jordan had texted me on my way home to let me know he would rather meet tomorrow, and I didn’t have the energy to argue about it. So I agreed instead. I left my bag by the door and made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t get up until tomorrow morning, even if that meant I would sleep in my training clothes. The door closed behind Mia and Marilyn. I loved that Mia wouldn’t expect me to talk to her. Not even ‘Hello’ was necessary. She was the best roommate in the whole world