Invisible

by DelSheree Gladden

  Chapter 21

  Dark Shadow

  (Olivia)

   

  My door flies open as Hayden suddenly crowds in on me. “Olivia? Are you okay?”

  “Hayden?”

  Embarrassed, and more than a little confused, I start wiping away tears frantically. It’s no use, though, because they just keep falling. Hayden doesn’t say anything when I flop back against the seat and cover my face with my hands. I try to breathe, to get control of myself, but it seems impossible. Every passing second I expect to hear the door shut as Hayden walks away.

  It would be the absolute cap on today if he bailed on the obviously crazy girl he had previously been nice to. He’s probably better off making a quick exit. I wait for the sound, but it never comes.

  When my tears finally wear themselves out, Hayden’s hand slips over mine and gently uncovers my face. The concern written on his face seems so genuine, but I know he must be thinking that I’m a total nutcase at this point. I try to turn away from him, but he won’t let me.

  “Olivia, what’s going on?”

  Sniffing and wiping away tears, I say, “I’m just having a really horrible day.”

  “That was pretty much a given.” Hayden smiles. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shake my head violently. Not only can I not talk about it, I don’t want to. Not with Hayden. Not with anyone.

  Hayden nods. “You wanna take your mind off whatever’s bothering you?”

  Surprised that he moved on from me crying so quickly, I just stare at him for a moment. “What?”

  He gestures past me to a basketball court. I look at the court in confusion. “Where am I?”

  Laughing, Hayden looks at me curiously. “Really? You don’t know where you are?”

  I rub my hand across my forehead wishing this day would just end. “Sorry, I just needed to get away from my house and started driving. I don’t even remember pulling over.”

  “No worries,” Hayden says. He nudges me softly. “And here I thought you came to watch me play ball.”

  “I didn’t even know you played basketball,” I admit sheepishly.

  Hayden laughs out loud. “Wow. You really know how to keep a guy’s pride in check, don’t you? I’ve been on the basketball team at school for four years.”

  “I’ve never been to a game.”

  “Never?”

  I shake my head. Hayden shakes his head right back. I’ve just admitted to him, that even though I’ve known him since junior high, I know almost nothing about him. Why he doesn’t say goodbye and look for a girl who hasn’t gone through her life completely oblivious to… well, apparently to just about everything, I have no idea.

  Instead of running for the hills, he asks, “Have you ever played?”

  “Basketball?”

  “Yeah,” he laughs. “Unless there’s some other sport you’re actually interested in.”

  I shake my head. The closest I’ve ever been to a sport is watching Dad and Mason play catch in the backyard. Instantly, my lips turn down and tears threaten. I try to shake thoughts of Mason away, but that has never been easy.

  “Come on,” Hayden says softly.

  He tries to take my hand and get me to leave the Jeep, but I pull away and cross my arms over my chest protectively. “I should probably just go home. Go to bed or something. You don’t want to hang out with me right now. Nobody does.”

  “I absolutely do want to hang out with you. I’ve been trying to talk you into hanging out with me for weeks, remember?” He tugs on me again.

  “But, I’m a mess. I just want to go home.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re fine for a little one on one, and home is where you were trying to get away from, remember?”

  But Mason left. He was the one I was running away from. The idea of curling up in my bed and never coming out again seems awfully appealing. He’ll come home eventually, though. Maybe he’s already home. I have no idea how long I’ve been gone. My chest constricts thinking that Mason might already be home and I would have to face him.

  “Okay,” I say weakly.

  Hayden grins and pulls me from the Jeep before I can change my mind. I’m glad he has the presence of mind to lock it up, because I didn’t even think of it. I also notice that he thought to take my keys out of the ignition first. I sigh, embarrassed to be such a train wreck. Dad would have killed me if I had walked away from the Jeep with it unlocked and the keys still in the ignition. No doubt it would have been stolen.

  “Thanks,” I say, gesturing at the Jeep.

  Hayden smiles and pockets my keys.

  “Are you going to give those back?” I ask.

  “Eventually.” He smiles again and heads around the Jeep toward the courts.

  I really have no other choice than to follow him. Shaking my head, I trudge through the grass a few steps behind him. It seems like an incredibly long walk. I’m exhausted by the time we finally reach the court. When I look back at the Jeep sitting lonely by the curb, I sigh. Resigned to spending the foreseeable future watching Hayden shoot baskets, I collapse on the grass like an egg dropped on cement.

  Hayden walks over with a basketball in his hands and shakes his head at me. “Nope. Not gonna happen. Get up.”

  “What?”

  “How do you expect to play sitting on the grass?”

  “Play?”

  “Yes, play.”

  My face scrunches at him. “But, I don’t know how to play.”

  “Lucky for you, I do. Get up here,” he demands.

  When I show no intention of moving, he drops the ball and comes to get me. My frown stays firmly in place as he hauls me up from the ground. He practically has to drag me out to the center of the court. I feel like crying again, but he just laughs.

  “Stubborn, huh?”

  “Depressed,” I counter.

  Hayden picks the ball back up and approaches me slowly. “I know exactly how to cure that.”

  “I highly doubt it.”

  Pulling off a perfect imitation of me wrinkling up my nose at him, Hayden laughs and starts dribbling the ball. “You clearly don’t watch basketball,” he says, “but you must know at least some of the basics.”

  “You’d probably be surprised.”

  Hayden catches the ball and holds it up like Vanna White. “Ball,” he says sarcastically. Then he points at the hoop. “Hoop. Are you following so far?”

  My scowl is ruined a bit by me laughing.

  “The ball …” He points again. “… goes in the hoop.” Again, he points.

  “Thanks,” I say in a snotty voice. I wait for him to continue mocking me, but he offers nothing more. “And?”

  “And what? Those are the basics. I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you on your first try.”

  “First try? That implies there will be a second attempt.”

  Hayden stalks up to me. “There will definitely be a second go at this.”

  I shake my head and take a step back. I have zero interest in basketball, and my interest in spending time with Hayden isn’t much better at this point. I can tell by the grin that springs onto his lips that getting him to back off isn’t going to be easy. I sigh, feeling awkward.

  As Hayden tries to fill the empty court with real instructions on how to play basketball, I only half-listen. After a few minutes, he warns me that he’s going to pass me the ball. That should probably mean I am ready for it, but I flinch away from the ball and it goes sailing past me. Hayden stares, looking somewhat amused and just a little surprised.

  “Wow, you really aren’t athletic, are you?”

  “I tried to warn you.”

  He grins back at me. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. Go get the ball.”

  I look over my shoulder distastefully. Turning back, I say, “You get it.”

  Hayden marches toward me, in what I’m sure is meant to be an intimidating way. His laughing at me ruins it. He grabs my h
and as he marches by and tows me along with him. When we reach the ball, he scoops it up and presses it against my middle until I relent and take it. The ball slips, and that’s when I realize Hayden still has a hold of my other hand. Flushing pink, I yank my hand away from his and head for the court.

  I start doing what Hayden says, mainly out of desperation to keep him from getting too close to me or having an opportunity to touch me again. Half my attention stays on what he’s telling me to do. The other half struggles to figure Hayden out. I don’t do very well on either account.

  Hayden stands to the side when I try to shoot the ball for the first time. We both watch as it goes about half the distance to the basket and sinks like a rock. Hayden busts up laughing, and I can’t help but join him. That was pretty sad.

  “I can honestly say,” Hayden says through his laughter, “that I have never met anyone as terrible at this sport as you are.”

  “I tried to warn you.”

  He laughs again and scoops up the ball on his way to me. “Yes, yes you did. I didn’t believe you, but you have done a magnificent job of proving me wrong.”

  I can’t help it. The corner of my mouth turns up. Hayden doesn’t miss it. He shoves the ball back into my hands and slides around behind me. I jump when his hands touch my shoulders. He presses down lightly, and when I resist, starts wiggling me around until I begin to loosen up.

  “There,” he says finally, “you’re like a stick figure, all stiff and awkward.”

  “Your chances of their being a second basketball session are sinking fast,” I say.

  Hayden peeks around my shoulder looking thoroughly shocked. “Signs of a sense of humor? Wow, we are making progress.”

  I roll my eyes and shove him away from me. He goes back to showing what form is supposed to look like. I feel like a manikin as he scoots my feet into position and shows me how to hold the ball properly.

  After an interminable amount of prodding and shifting, Haden says, “Try it again.”

  My hands feel awkward as I push the ball up and away from me. My confidence is pretty low, but I watch hopeful it will go somewhere this time. It goes maybe two feet further that my first try and sails back to the court with a smack-smack-smack as it bounces into the grass. Hayden puts his hands on top of his head and tries really, really hard not to laugh at me.

  “I suck at this.”

  Hayden reaches his limit and busts up. “You do. You suck at this pretty bad.”

  He runs off after the ball and tosses it back to me. I flinch again, but somehow still manage to catch it. “What?” I whine, “I have to do it again?”

  “Uh, yeah. Again and again and again.”

  Groaning dramatically, I raise the ball and look at the rim. Hayden groans as well, mumbling about how he just showed me how to hold the ball correctly! He hardly seems put out about having to come back and reposition me again. Every touch seems to linger a little longer. I try not to squirm, for the sake of not messing up my position again, but having Hayden touch me brings up more miserable emotions than pleasure right now.

  When Hayden finally stands back, I shoot again. He groans as it falls way short of the hoop. He’s still smiling, though. He tries over and over again to turn me into an only halfway terrible basketball player, but he’s going to have to get used to failure because not a single shot makes it anywhere near the rim.

  We try one on one next, and it’s no surprise that Hayden beats me soundly. The really sad thing is, I don’t think he was even trying. At some point, I actually start having fun. Not the kind of laugh out loud, never want to leave fun. Just less miserable.

  As the sun fades, even Hayden starts missing shots. After one bounces off the backboard and nearly hits me in the head, I grab the ball off the ground and refuse to give it back. “We’re done!”

  “Ah, come on. There’s still enough light!”

  “No!”

  Holding the ball behind my back, I sneak away from him and make a run for the grass. It’s not very hard for Hayden to catch up to me. He snatches the ball out of my hands. The force spins me just enough that I stumble over Hayden’s gym back. My foot tangles in the strap and I topple over and land on my backside.

  “Olivia,” Hayden laughs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to knock you down.”

  “It’s okay,” I say.

  Hayden extends his hand in an offer to help me up. I take it, but right away my hand goes clammy. I can’t seem to hold onto Hayden. My hand slips, but he drops the ball and grabs my forearm with his other hand. There’s no chance of me getting away from him now. He pulls me up with hardly any effort, but doesn’t let go.

  I start to pull away, afraid he wants to do something other than basketball. Hayden’s gentle voice stops me.

  “Olivia, thank you for staying.”

  “Why are you thanking me?” I ask shakily. “I’m terrible at basketball. I’m sure you had better things to do with your afternoon, uh, and evening.”

  Hayden smiles. “Not at all. I had a lot of fun. I’m just sorry it took you having the worst day possible to get you to spend time with me.” Hayden reaches down and untangles my foot from the strap of his gym bag. When he stands back up, he says, “I know you didn’t really want to stay. If you don’t want to talk about what made you run away from your house, that’s okay, but if you do ever want to talk, about today or anything else, you can call me any time.”

  “I don’t even have your number,” I remind him. The thought slips out before I can think better of it. When Hayden starts smiling mischievously, I know I just painted myself into a corner.

  “I can fix that pretty easily.”

  He snatches up my phone from where I left it on a bench near the court and as he walks back to me I see his fingers flying over the keyboard. He hands me my phone, open to the contacts screen, his number right there to wipe away any excuses.

  “Thank you,” I say, not entirely sure whether I am grateful or not.

  Hayden holds his phone out to me, but I just stare at him in confusion. He uncurls my fingers and sets the phone on my palm. “Now, I want your number.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can call you the next time I need a self-esteem boost when it comes to basketball.” He grins when I laugh.

  The thin piece of metal and plastic feels heavy in my hands. I don’t move right away to enter my number. Hayden doesn’t push me, but he waits. In some ways, it feels like a betrayal to give him my number. Just as that thought pops into my head, the image of Mason’s hand slipping into Robin’s slaps me right across the face.

  My fingers start typing furiously, tapping out my anger. If Mason wants to kiss me like he did and then run off with Robin, fine! Screw him. He may not think I’m worth waiting a few hours for, but Hayden just spent his entire afternoon and evening trying to cheer me up. At the least, he deserves my phone number.

  I hand the phone back with shaking hands. Satisfaction and regret mingle in my heart, but I refuse to turn back. I manage a small smile when Hayden takes the phone. “Thank you,” I say, “for putting up with me today. I know I was lousy company.”

  “You were great,” he says softly.

  The sun has fully set now, and the park has taken on a decidedly creepy vibe. I dread actually going home. Avoiding Mason forever is hardly a plan, though. Sighing, I shove my phone in my pocket and ask for my keys. Hayden hands them over reluctantly.

  “I better get home. My parents are probably freaking out about now.”

  The way Haden’s hand touches my arm, hesitant, almost afraid, keeps me from moving away. He stares at his hand on my arm for a moment before looking up at me with an equally concerned look in his eyes.

  “Olivia, when you first got here, you said you had to get away from your house. I know you don’t want to talk about it …” He pauses and takes a step closer. “If you’re scared …”

  “Hayden,” I interrupt, “it’s nothing like that.”

  I don’
t think he believes me totally, but he doesn’t pressure me for more. “I hope you know I was serious when I said you could call me if you needed me. Any time. For any reason.”

  It’s impossible for me to doubt him. The honest worry in his eyes melts away my lingering fear. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice raw.

  Unable to stand there any longer without breaking down again, I turn and start for the Jeep. Hayden calls for me to wait up and offers to walk me to my car, but I feel guilty for having already taken up his night and tell him I’ll be fine. I can hear him hurriedly shoving things back in his gym bag so he can catch up, but I don’t stop.

  I’ve covered half the distance when a dark shadow jumps out at me, stopping my heart and tearing a scream from my throat.