Secret Catch

by Cassie Mae

  I twist in the bed, jamming my face into the pillow. I know what I have to do, but I don’t want to do it. Breaking promises isn’t my thing. But not only that, I never wanted to break a promise I made to Sam, to this girl I love.

  Except I have to.

  ***

  When I wake up from a very restless sleep a few hours later, it takes me a minute to realize I’m not dreaming the girl standing in the doorway, her red hair tied back, jacket slung over her arm.

  “You’re okay,” I say, and she nods, checking over her shoulder before sliding into the hospital room. Even though it hurts like hell, I sit up and grab her arm the second I can reach it. I pull her into me, praising God Almighty that she looks good. No bruises on her wrists, no cuts, or swollen limbs, or anything. She’s Sam with her full lips and big eyes and strong spirit.

  But when her entire body melts into mine, falling onto the bed with me, on my lap, I think maybe she’s hurt beyond the physical. And it breaks me apart to know I have to hurt her more.

  “I didn’t mean to make you choose. I’m sorry. He’s family, and I get that and I—”

  “I left you,” she says into my neck, making my mind scramble to her train of thought. “I left you there. How could I do that?”

  “You had to,” I tell her, completely understanding—wanting her to understand that we have to leave each other.

  She shakes her head furiously against my chest. “I’m a horrible, horrible person.”

  “No, you saved my life, and you know it. Stop, okay. I’m not broken… just a little bruised.”

  “Stop pulling that tough guy shit.”

  The first laugh I’ve felt in the past twelve hours ripples through my throat. I squeeze her to me as much as I can, as much as I dare. I check over her head to make sure there’s no one looking in from the hallway.

  “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  She lifts her head. “What?”

  I blink into her eyes…eyes that have softened since I first met her. Eyes that looked into mine when I fell in love for the first time. Eyes that can only be hers and I’m terrified as hell I won’t be able to see them anymore. That I can’t see them look at me like this.

  I wish I could kiss her.

  “We… lost this one, evil bird.”

  She blinks those eyes…

  “What?”

  I bury my head into her neck, refusing to look at her because I’m a complete coward. “We can’t be seen together.”

  “I know.”

  “The only way to guarantee that is to… not be together.”

  Her breathing picks up, her heartbeat pounds so hard I feel it. Or maybe it’s mine. I realize I’m clutching onto her, wanting to hold her for as long as I can, wanting the words I’m saying to be complete and utter bull, but they aren’t. They make sense. And Sam’s arms curl around my neck, squeeze tight, and hold me together and tear me apart all at the same time.

  She doesn’t argue, doesn’t try to fight me on breaking up with her, and I’m not sure if I’m upset or relieved about that yet. I just can’t even think. I don’t want to.

  We stay there for twenty minutes that take twenty seconds.

  “I love you,” she whispers. It hurts more than the kicks to my gut. More than the hooks to my face. More than the idea of never stepping on a field again.

  Something shuffles past the door, and we both loosen our holds for the last time. And when she leaves, even though she doesn’t say it, even though she doesn’t show it, I know she too is thinking about that night in the park when I promised I’d never leave her.

  And I just did.

  I keep it together till I get to my bedroom then I fall apart. The little pieces of my heart, shattered in my chest, are incapable of beating. Now I understand Mom. The sleeping. The depression. The wanting to give up.

  Is love worth it?

  The pain is so bad I feel like I’ll suffocate on it. It reminds me of how it felt when they told me Dad was dead. Is this how she feels? And I didn’t help her, wasn’t there for her. She went through this all alone.

  But she wasn’t there for us either.

  Maybe I should have been there more for her though. Been a little more understanding. I was so worried about all the things I had to do, making Josh’s lunches, paying the bills, being the adult. I didn’t think about the pain that she was going through and how maybe I could’ve helped her a little more.

  I remember Paige saying something about love being worth it all. I squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can and picture Tyler’s face above mine. His lips against mine. The way his blue eyes sparkled at me.

  Yeah, it was worth it.

  But I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again.

  ***

  Josh’s breathing is slow and even. He’s still wearing Tyler’s hoodie to sleep.

  It’s been two weeks since I saw him last.

  I don’t know how to live anymore. It’s pathetic really.

  I just want to sleep. I can’t eat. All I do is stare at my phone, even though I know he’s not gonna call me.

  How am I supposed to do this? I can relate to her now. Mom. Now I know why she checked out. The reality of living without him hurts too much. The thought of never seeing Tyler again causes me physical pain, a crushing in my chest that won’t relent no matter what I do. I ache for his touch, to hear his voice, to smell him, to feel his presence.

  I can’t stand it.

  In my dreams I see him again. He loves me again. His hand caresses my face. Lips touch mine. The world is right and happy, and I wish I was always there.

  My lips brush against Josh’s forehead and then I retreat from his room. When he asked me why Tyler wasn’t coming to practice anymore I didn’t know what to say. If I should lie or tell the truth. In the end I told the truth.

  And I broke my baby brother’s heart, too.

  ***

  I wake slowly. My head aches and I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to think. I just want to go back to sleep.

  Something moves.

  Keeping my eyes tightly shut I don’t say anything. Just lay there, pretending to sleep. Could it be Tyler? Did he sneak in? Maybe he misses me as much as I miss him. Needed to see me like I need him. My window remains purposely unlocked for that reason. In case he decides he can’t stand it anymore.

  Or maybe it’s Brad, finally coming around to apologize. The cold shoulder and silent treatments have become our ritual at school, and the Skyhawk players flank in front of and behind me like I’m some type of royalty. I’ve flipped off so many people my finger is getting sore. Don’t they get that Tyler and I aren’t… anything anymore?

  Brad isn’t allowed in our house until he apologizes for upsetting me. Mom and Aunt Gabby made sure of that when he woke up on our couch, hung over, and told me it was for my own good. I almost slapped him again. Almost.

  Something shuffles again.

  I have to know who it is. My eyes slowly open, and I blink a few times.

  My heart drops.

  Mom sits on the bed next to me, staring down at her hands. She must hear me move, because her face turns to mine. Tears trickle down her face. She’s asked me a couple times if I was okay. I would just say I was fine and walk away.

  The more I retreat into myself the more she comes alive.

  “Please, Sam.” Her eyes plead with me.

  I want to be sympathetic and understanding and take her into my confidence. Part of me longs for her to pull me into her arms and have her tell me everything’s going to be okay after I bare my soul.

  But then I think about how she’s dealt with everything with Dad and how she wasn’t there for me over him. And the pain over losing Dad and Tyler swells up in my chest till it might explode, ’cause it’s not able to hold one millimeter more of pain.

  And I lose it.

  “What do you want?” My voice comes out hard and cold.

  “What’s going on? Why won’t you talk to me?” Her forehead scrunches together
like she’s trying to figure me out.

  I just look at her with a blank stare. “This is how we deal with stuff, right? We just ignore everyone and stay in bed all the time. I’m dealing.”

  Her mouth drops open, but she doesn’t say anything. I shake my head at her and throw the covers off. The bathroom door is quiet when I shut it.

  I feel horrible for taking it all out on her. For yelling at her when all I really wanted was for her to take me in her arms and tell me it would be okay. I turn the shower water scalding hot and get in.

  Trying to wash all my sins away.

  “But Coach—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Tyler.”

  Damn, he used the first name.

  “You can’t take me out for the whole season.”

  “Have you taken a look at a mirror lately, son?” Coach Bean drops his pen down on the desk. “There’s always next year.”

  “But I’m fine,” I tell him for the billionth time. “Fredrickson is back in, and I didn’t break anything.”

  “Looks like you broke your brain.” He presses his lips together and turns to the brick wall behind him. “The board is going to have my hide if I put you in.”

  I know it’s pointless. My neck feels like it’s on fire with all the frustration steaming up the back of it. I set the heels of my hands on the edge of his desk and hang my head.

  “The Skyhawk game, Coach,” I say to the floor. “I’ll sit on the bench for all the others, just… let me play that game.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a minute. There are three staples and a paperclip on his office floor. I stare at them and hope that he grants me this one thing. These past weeks have been total shit. I need football. I need the cure only the game can give me.

  Well, the game… and Sam.

  My chest squeezes tight, and I grip the edge of the desk and pull in a deep breath.

  “One quarter,” he says.

  I lift my head. “What?”

  Coach turns to look at me, eyebrows pinched in the middle of his forehead. “I’ll give you one quarter in the Skyhawk game next week. But I swear it, Koontz, if you play like hell, I’m taking you out.”

  “Thank you,” I sputter, straightening up and adjusting my backpack on my shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Get to class, son.”

  I nod and trip over my feet on my way out the door. Daniels meets me outside the locker room. His eyebrow rises as he falls in step with me.

  “So…?”

  “He’s giving me one quarter.”

  He blows out a breath and fixes his backpack. “Well, better than nothing. Did he say which one?”

  I shake my head. “I’m thinking second, but only ‘cause of this.” I gesture to my shoulder, which I’ve had a hard time rotating. One of those Skyhawks sure did a number on it when they held me back.

  The bell rings, and I pick up the pace to get to Pre-Calc, but Daniels grabs my arm and kinks his neck to a side hallway.

  “I know you keep telling people you got jumped, but I’m not stupid. This was Nolan.” He pauses as some sophomores pass us. “Why the hell didn’t you report his ass?”

  “Leave it alone, Matt.”

  His eyes narrow. “I’m not gonna leave it alone, Tyler. That dick has beaten three of my brothers now, and I want to make sure he doesn’t do it again.”

  I want that too. There was only one thing stopping me from making the report in the hospital. It had nothing to do with the game or the rivalry or because I’ve got a complex with pride. Sure, Nolan would get kicked off the team. Maybe suspended from school or expelled. Time in juvy… I have no idea. But he’s a minor. I’m not dead. No witnesses other than Sam and the other Skyhawks, and all I can think about is after whatever punishment he’s dealt, he’d come back with a lot more vengeance than beating my face to a pulp. Of course it’s not me I’m worried about, it’s everyone else around me. Sam, my teammates, my family.

  Distancing myself seems to be the best way to deal with this shit, even though it hurts like hell.

  “He won’t bug us anymore,” I say, pushing my way past him.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because he got what he wanted.”

  “He wanted to knock your brain loose?” Daniels grabs my shoulder and spins me around. I try not to wince at the movement but it’s a wasted effort. “This is getting damn ridiculous. Jacoby won’t talk. Now you’re not doing shit. I’m about ready to tell Coach I don’t want you playing at all.”

  Something heavy and tastes like salt drops into the pit of my stomach. “Don’t—”

  “Then tell me why you won’t report him.”

  “Because he could hurt her!” I shout, tearing at my hair. Daniels’ eyes widen, but he stands his ground. “It wasn’t only because I knocked him out during our opening game. He thinks I’m just trying to get into his cousin’s pants.”

  “Samantha?” It clicks behind his eyes. “Sam Nolan…ah hell, I knew she looked familiar.”

  “Yeah, and I know you’re going to give me shit for it, but I don’t care. It’s over now anyway.”

  Red flashes through Daniels’ face, and he blows out a breath as he looks up and down the empty hallway.

  “You’re one stupid ass.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You have no idea what kind of shit you’ve stirred up for the team.” He shakes his head and takes a step back. “Over or not.”

  I feel like hitting him. Not because he’s mad about Sam, but because he’s right. He bends down and picks up his backpack, then stomps past me. I know I’ve already missed a ton of school, but I march out the doors and to the parking lot. If I wasn’t so sore, I’d punch the life out of the pickup’s hood.

  ***

  The clock on my nightstand says it’s after midnight, but I can’t find it in me to sleep. I feel numb and somewhat hollow. But I’m heavy at the same time. Like I’m sinking into the mattress and I’ll soon become part of the floor. Hunter snores on his side of the room, and I count how many there are in a minute, trying to ignore the urge I have to pick my phone up and call Sam.

  12:35. Hunter’s snoring starts to shallow. 12:42. The moon creeps through the window as the clouds shift outside. 12:47. My phone vibrates in my hand, indicating a low battery. 12:58. I feel the weight of my mind pull me to a semi-sleep.

  The field is empty, all except a blanket on the turf next to the forty yard line. I reach out to touch it, but I can’t feel anything. Nolan’s number is splayed across the seam in bright Skyhawk red. It’s close to Sam’s hair color.

  It starts snowing, but I don’t feel cold. The flakes burn as they hit my skin, and they are the only things I feel. A laugh picks up over the emptiness of the field and I turn to Sam. She’s wearing nothing but my jersey, and even in my dreams my heart thunders under my skin and my mouth dries. I want to touch her, but I take a step forward and she takes a step back. Every time I move, she moves, and so I pause and stare, because that’s all I’m going to get of her.

  The Trojan jersey starts to blur. Black spray paint writes itself over my number. I squint, trying to make out what the words say, but a creak from outside of my dream startles me awake.

  “Parker?” I whisper as small footsteps tiptoe across the floor.

  “I had a bad dream,” she says when she gets to my head. “I had to make sure you were okay.”

  My heart’s going a little fast, but I take a deep breath to calm it and slide over for my sister. She crawls in and buries her face into my chest.

  “Think of good stuff,” I tell her over her head. Her hair tickles my chin so I shift a little. “Like cookies and milk.”

  “Chocolate cake,” she muffles into my shirt. “And bright pink frosting.”

  “You like bright pink anything.”

  She giggles. “I like when you wear my pink Sleeping Beauty crown.”

  “You’re trying to give me nightmares.” I tickle her tummy, and she lets out a loud squeal that jerks Hunt
er in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake up.

  “Okay,” she whispers after we make sure Hunter is back to snoring. “Then we’ll think of things that are good for both of us.”

  “Like football?” I joke and she sticks her tongue out at me.

  “No, like Mom.”

  “And Dad.”

  “Sometimes Hunter.” She laughs as our brother snorts and turns over in his sleep.

  “And Cooper and Spencer,” I add.

  Her hair tickles my chin again as she settles back onto my chest. “But I’m the best one.”

  “After me.”

  “No way.”

  We chuckle and after a few minutes, her body relaxes next to mine, and I feel her yawn against my shirt.

  “We can’t…” she starts, then drifts off into incoherency.

  “What was that?”

  “We can’t forget about Sam.”

  My mouth goes dry, and I look down at my little sister, dressed in her Sophia the First pajamas and small hands resting under her head.

  “Sam’s good for both of us,” she says, then her mouth stays a little open, and I can tell her mind is about to float off into sleep. I kiss the top of her head, wishing I could get rid of the weight in my chest. My eyes prickle with heat and I squeeze them shut. Sam is good for both of us. But I’m not good for her.

  Every day gets harder and harder. I thought things were supposed to get easier with time, but they don’t. Brad acts like nothing ever happened, but he has started talking to me again. I’m still giving the cold shoulder.