“Big Five, or something cheesy like that. Why?” Lisa piped up.
“I don’t know…I just can’t place it…”
The face connected to the voice remained anonymous as the conversation swirled around me. I considered just getting up and walking toward the front of the stage to get a good look. I needed to quickly solve the mystery; it was driving me crazier by the second. However, to avoid looking like some desperate middle-aged groupie heading to the stage for attention, I stayed seated and half-heartedly listened to Tori talk about her workout routine and her newest ‘clean-eating’ diet of black beans, edamame, and kale. Listening to her drone on about pairing her meals with an organic strawberry smoothie made with fresh Greek yogurt didn’t help divert my attention at all.
Suddenly, someone spoke from behind me. “Kaitlyn?”
The girls at my table froze. Their eyes looked up at the mystery man attached to the voice. I whirled around to see who caused my friends’ jaws to drop in awe. My breath caught in my throat while my heart immediately began pounding in my chest. A face from a long forgotten past stood in front of me.
His name immediately sprang from my lips, “Chris!”
“Wow, Kaitlyn. I can’t believe it’s really you.”
“Chris,” I said again almost breathlessly. “How long has it been?”
“Eight years and five months, almost to the day,” Chris blurted without even taking time to think about it, as if he had been etching hash marks on his wall for each passing day.
“Unbelievable,” I said with a hint of nostalgia, as my mind tried to drift back to a time I had tried earnestly to erase from my memory. Immediately, I snapped myself back into reality. “What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to appear collected.
“I live here. I write music by day, and play music by night. Our band, Fifth Wheel, is working on our first album. What are you doing here?” Chris looked around the table. The girls stared up at him. I couldn’t tell if they were ogling him because he was stunningly gorgeous, or if they were just shocked by the fact that another man—besides my husband—so obviously took my breath away. Deep down, I hoped they didn’t even notice my breathless anguish.
“Oh wow, where are my manners? These are my friends…Lisa, Shannon, and Tori. We’re here for a ladies’ weekend retreat.”
The girls continued to look up in amazement. Chris looked as handsome as ever. His breathtaking physique defined itself beneath his tight black T-shirt. They sputtered and stammered their hellos. He politely smiled, but his eyes quickly diverted and caught my gaze. Those same dark eyes that melted my heart more than eight years ago were searching mine. I hoped my friends weren’t aware of the pounding in my chest. The awkward, yet intimate moment stirred emotions in me that I had not felt in many years.
“Well, I guess I better get back to the stage. The boys are ready to play again.” Chris smiled amiably at my friends. His eyes caught mine, and he beamed that same wide grin that once made my heart turn flips in my chest.
“Okay.” I grinned back, trying to suppress the feeling that was welling up inside of me. “I’ll see you around.”
I watched Chris walk back toward the stage. Shaking my head in disbelief, I looked back at the girls sitting around the table. They all gaped at me in wide-eyed astonishment.
“What?” I blinked my eyes innocently.
“Who. Was. That?!” Lisa asked, emphasizing every word.
I shrugged indifferently. “Oh, that was just a guy I knew from high school.”
“No, Kaitlyn,” Tori remarked emphatically, looking over my shoulder. “That was not just a guy.”
“Yeah.” Shannon stared in his direction, bewildered. “Wow.”
“Guys!” I snapped. “Stop staring, okay? He really was just a guy I knew from high school…who I happened to be in love with at the time.”
“Whoa, I bet that was a blast from the past!” Lisa exclaimed.
I sighed. “Yeah, something like that.” I looked down at the trembling hands resting in my lap. I had no idea that seeing him would stir up so many emotions in the pit of my stomach.
“Oh honey,” Shannon patted my shoulder. Finishing her sentence seemed unnecessary. I felt her sympathy.
The rest of the night blurred by as my mind focused on the tranquilizing voice that poured from the speakers. Once in a while, I would sneak a peek toward the stage. I could feel his eyes settling on me, even in the darkness.
His voice, gravelly and breathless behind the microphone, felt warm and comforting like a soft blanket on a cool night. The quiver in my stomach and the tremble of my hands were evidence of the effect that Chris had on me. Ashamed, I tried in vain to hide my anguish. Occasionally, Shannon would pat my hand, out of sight from the rest of the girls. I smiled meekly at her as she nodded her head with understanding.
“So, are you guys ready to call it a night?” Shannon’s eyes looked tired as she sipped her last Cosmo.
We all agreed, began to gather our purses, and stood up to leave.
“Kaitlyn,” Chris spoke from behind me again.
The deep sound of his voice startled me, and I dropped my keys.
“Oh, sorry,” he said as he quickly bent down to pick them up.
“It’s okay. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
His fingers brushed mine as he handed them back to me. The tingle from his touch radiated up my arm. I heard a nervous giggle escape from my lips. My hand flew up and covered my mouth, and I immediately felt embarrassed.
“You really made my night,” Chris declared with a crooked grin. “I can’t believe it’s been eight years.”
“Me neither.”
“See you again tomorrow night?” he asked. “I mean, let’s not let another eight years go by.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed without thinking. “We’ll be here all weekend. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“Great!” he replied, flashing his perfect smile at me.
As hard as I tried not to notice, Chris looked absolutely magnificent. His shirt clung to his well-formed chest. His dark hair had been spiked and gelled in a hot sexy mess. The smoldering intensity of his eyes staring into mine sent chills rippling through my body. “I look forward to it,” he eagerly admitted.
I could barely contain the elation in my voice. “I just can’t believe it’s really you.” Without thinking, I reached out to hug him. He initially seemed shocked, but welcomed the embrace.
He enveloped me in his arms and whispered into my ear, “I’ve never forgotten you.”
His breath was hot against my cheek. I inhaled the mixed aroma of aftershave and breath mints as I tried to burn his scent into my memory. A breath escaped my lungs and lodged in my throat. ‘I’m a married woman,’ I rebuked myself. Quickly, I pulled away from him and practically ran to catch up to my friends.
“Oh my goodness, girl! Tell us everything!” Lisa exclaimed as we walked into the living room of our condo.
I shrugged my shoulders. “What’s there to tell?”
Shannon spoke up. “Well, for starters, did you see the way he looked at you? And, did you see the way he looked in that shirt? Wow!”
I laughed solicitously. While these girls were my closest friends, I didn’t feel emotionally prepared to rehash the history I had with Chris, nor did I feel strong enough to reopen old wounds I had spent years trying to heal.
“C’mon, Kaitlyn. Give us the scoop,” Tori whined. “We want to know about this hot mystery guy.”
I sighed, preparing myself for the heartrending wave of emotion I knew I was about to experience by divulging the intimate details of my past. I knew if I was going to tell them about Chris, I would have to start my story from the very beginning—a beginning that I would rather delete entirely from my memory. My history with Chris actually began with Trevor, my all-star athlete ex-boyfriend, who was also known as Jenkins County’s hometown hero.
My mind, as it creaked open the lid of the proverbial can of worms, drifted back to a time and plac
e I had only allowed myself to visit in my dreams. It returned to a time and place before that girl I once knew well, but barely recognized anymore, had sped away in her fully packed VW Jetta with hope to start a new life in college.
Trevor Kent stood confidently with his friends in his usual spot by the trophy case that would also become known as his throne by his senior year at East Jenkins High School. He was sporting his favorite pair of jeans, a white T-shirt and his letterman jacket. In our school, Trevor was known as a trifecta athlete—a star player on the football, basketball, and baseball teams. He and several of the other athletes watched the students mingle in the hallway before school began. Trevor was gorgeous, and being the most popular sophomore at East Jenkins, girls swooned over him. His sandy blond hair was cut high and tight like a marine fresh out of boot camp. Tall and muscular, Trevor could easily bench press two hundred and fifty pounds. His deep hazel eyes had an entrancing power of persuasion. No one could be sure if it was out of respect or fear that most guys looked up to him. Therefore, it came as no surprise to anyone when he was chosen as the forerunner for co-captain of the varsity football team his upcoming junior year.
I fell victim to his hypnotizing, hazel eyes in History class during our sophomore year. He sat beside me in class and pestered me with his immaturity. He and his buddies fervently annoyed the other girls in the class with their desperate attempt at flirting. Most of time I just rolled my eyes at him and his silly antics. However, midway through the year, Trevor hit a major growth spurt, and girls started to notice him. It wasn’t long before I took notice also. He lost the chubby baby cheeks, and his face chiseled nearly overnight. He cut the swooping blond bangs that constantly fell into his eyes which caused him to develop the annoying habit of jerking his head to the side to get them off his face. The new buzz cut made him look older and tougher, like a soldier ready for battle. It seemed as though his boyish body grew muscles right before our eyes. His silliness dissipated, being replaced by charm and intrigue. I vividly remembered the day I walked into class, and he smiled at me in a way he had never smiled at me in the past.
“Hey, Kaitlyn,” he said shyly, much unlike his usual character as he plopped down in the desk next to me.
“Hi.” I smiled curiously at him and wondered what he wanted. Is he going to ask me to help him study for the upcoming test? Does he need help with his research paper? Will he ask to borrow a pen for today’s notes?
He looked down and tapped his pencil on the edge of his desk. Glancing up at me, piercing me with his glinting, hazel eyes, he asked, “So, are you dating anyone?”
Well, that was the one question I never expected.
“Um…no,” I stuttered, suddenly feeling a little shy, and yet incredibly excited at the same time.
“Oh, okay. I was just wondering.” He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders and reached into his backpack for his notebook.
Feeling slightly disappointed by the abrupt end of our conversation, yet thoroughly delighted that Trevor Kent really noticed me, I opened my textbook to the chapter we were studying in class and attempted to look interested. My confusion over Trevor was enough to turn my stomach into a ball of nerves. During the rest of the class I diverted my eyes and avoided looking at him.
“Heyyyy, Trevor,” a tall blonde princess-wannabe cooed as she passed him in the cafeteria. Her mousy sidekick snickered and whispered something into the princess’s ear. It must have been about Trevor because Princess cackled in his direction like a broody hen and batted her eyes seductively at him. Trevor just ignored the girls and took a bite of his burger.
“Yo, Trevor, my man!” One of his baseball teammates slammed his tray down on the table, flipped a chair around backwards, and plopped down next to Trevor.
“Wassup?”
“Dude, did you see that game last night?”
“Yeah man, I thought the Warriors had it in the bag.”
“Yeah, too bad that dude choked in the last inning.”
“Par for the course.”
“True dat.”
“Trevor!” A chorus of his buddies bellowed in unison and sat down at the table, fist bumping and high-fiving like a bunch of club-wielding barbarians.
It seemed as if everyone in the cafeteria was competing for a seat at Trevor’s table. A few girls sat behind him, taking turns staring at him and giggling. Several guys sat nearby vying for an opportunity to include themselves in the potent exchange of machismo.
I sat a few tables away with Allison and Rachel trying to avoid the boorish nonsense. We talked about upcoming tryouts for the Varsity cheerleading squad while I picked at the mystery meat on my plate, glancing up only when Rachel gasped and grabbed my arm.
“Oh my gosh, Kaitlyn. Trevor Kent is looking at you.”
“What?” I looked up just in time to see his hazel eyes settling on mine. A coy grin spread across his face. My cheeks burned crimson, but not before I returned a bashful smile.
I avoided making eye contact with Trevor the rest of the week. Occasionally, I would sneak a peek from the corner of my eye, and would sometimes catch him staring at me. I could feel my cheeks flush as I quickly looked away. I couldn’t be sure, but I felt like Trevor was burning a smile into the back of my head. On Friday of that week, he finally spoke to me again.
“Hey Kaitlyn, are you coming to the baseball game tonight?” He sounded hopeful. “I’m pitching tonight,” he added.
I hadn’t planned to go, but since Trevor specifically asked me if I was coming, I knew I wanted to do everything in my power to get there. “Yeah, my mom said she would bring me,” I lied. I assumed I would have to do some major sucking up that afternoon to get my mom to drive me back to the game.
“Great!” Trevor said with a grin, then turned his attention to the assignment written on the chalkboard.
After doing all of my chores and a lot of begging, I finally convinced my mom to drive me to the baseball game. I would be so glad when I didn’t have to rely on my parents to drive me around. Although my mother would never admit it, I knew she enjoyed going to the ballgames with me. It was actually kind of fun to have mother/daughter time. My mom was never really the embarrassing kind of mom; she was actually pretty cool. All my friends thought so too.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Trevor throughout the entire game. He looked spectacular in his baseball uniform. His muscles were well defined as his red and white jersey clung to his body. He swung his bat with such ferocity that it wouldn’t surprise me if the birds ducked for cover when he made contact with the ball. I was spellbound by him; most girls, at the very least, were intrigued by him. I could have sworn that once during the fifth inning, when he rounded third base, he winked at me right before he slid into home plate. The whole game seemed to play in slow motion as I savored Trevor’s every move. At one point my mom asked me which player had me so hypnotized.
“Number five,” I replied. “Trevor Kent—but it’s nothing, Mom. I mean, he barely even notices me.”
After the game I hung around the bleachers talking to a few friends in the warm spring air. It was the first evening that week we didn’t need a jacket after sunset. I secretly hoped Trevor would walk out of the dugout and come over to speak to me. My mom decided to wait for me in the car. I casually chatted with my friends until my cell phone vibrated in my pocket.
“Where are you?” my mom asked hastily.
“I’m coming. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Reluctantly, I walked to the car feeling bummed that I didn’t get to talk to Trevor. I could see my mother waiting for me, impatiently drumming her fingers on the steering wheel of her white Yukon Denali. Just as I got into the car and shut the door, out of nowhere, Trevor ran up to my open window.
“Hey Kaitlyn,” he said breathlessly, as if he’d sprinted to get there.
“Oh, hi!” My smile widened at the sight of him, but I immediately pursed my lips. I didn’t want to look or sound too desperate…like that Princess chick in the cafeteria.
&n
bsp; Trevor glanced at my mom and flashed his charming smile. “I was wondering if I could drive Kaitlyn home tonight, Mrs. Davenport.”
My mother looked at me as her eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. I turned my back toward Trevor, out of his sight, and pleaded silently with her. Pleeeease, Mom.
She nodded her head with approval. “Okay. Is this the Trevor Kent I’ve heard so much about? It’s so nice to meet you,” she said with a smile.
My cheeks flared.
Trevor grinned. “Yes, ma’am, the one and only,” he said in his sweet southern drawl.
Wow, he really knew how to turn on the charm!
“Thanks, Mom.” I couldn’t tell by my own tone if I was thanking her for letting Trevor take me home, or for humiliating me in front of him.
Trevor’s red lifted Toyota truck roared to life as I buckled my seatbelt.
“So,” he began, “you’ve been talking about me, huh?”
I think my heart stopped for a second. My words caught in my throat, causing me to silently suck in my breath.
He laughed. “I’m just teasing you!”
‘Breathe,’ I reminded myself. I was eager to change the subject. “You did great pitching tonight.”
“Thanks.” He shrugged and made a futile effort to sound humble. “I try.” His confidence exuded sexiness, a trait that melted most teenage girls’ hearts. I was no exception. The conversation flowed easily the rest of the ride to my house. I hated that the ride home had to end. I could have talked to him for hours. It seemed as though I blinked my eyes and we were parked in the driveway at my house.
“So,” I asked with a devilish grin, “when you asked me in class if I was dating anyone, what exactly did you mean by that?” It was his turn to blush.
So Much It Hurts Page 2
