When Our Worlds Collide (3 page)

Kennedy’s the type of girl that you aren’t sure whether to
inhale her all at once or hold your breath until you can’t take it anymore.
She’s a breath of fresh air.

Chapter Three

-Kennedy-

“Are you ready for this?” Violet asks moving around the
dressing room touching everything that she can get her hands on. She grabs the
lipstick off of the counter and smears the bright red shade across her full
lips. She smacks them together making the most obnoxious sound pulling her
curly red hair into a mock up-do staring at me for confirmation. “Red’s my
color, right?”

“It looks
beautiful
. Now please hand it over,” I yank
it from her grasp. I am beyond nervous at this point. “I don’t know if I can do
this.” I rub a hand over my collarbone trying to push back my nerves that seem
to be multiplying.

Violet jerks me around by my shoulders to look at her. “You
are going to be just fine. I’ve seen you dance and trust me, you’re amazing.
You dance all the time in front of big crowds. This should be a piece of cake,
babe.”

“It’s not the same.” Dancing in front of people who love you
is different than this. This crowd would be less forgiving. My classmates
aren’t programmed to love everything that I do. That’s not how high school
works. You are either in or you are out, and I am most definitely out.

The door to the dressing room swings open banging against
the white cement wall causing a loud echo. Violet and I jump from the noise.
William, the stage hand for the night, tells me I have five minutes until I am
to get on stage. Violet grins and waves in his direction. I think I saw him
swallow his tongue. He shut the door quickly leaving me only with my
encouraging best friend and excruciating anxiety.

“He’s sort of cute, right? Needs to get that stick out of
his ass though,” Violet speaks her thoughts out loud.  I know her well enough
by now that she isn’t looking for a response from me. She just has to say it
out loud to discard the idea.

Knowing I need to get my head straight, Violet begins to
pack up her things to head out to the auditorium. That’s why I love her. She
isn’t like me at all. Somehow she manages to fit perfectly into my life.

Since I was old enough to realize how nerve wracking
performing in front of people can be, I have my own routine before I stepped
onto the stage.

“Make sure to kick some ass out there,” she winks retreating
out of the dressing room grinning at me. The doors barely closed before she
pokes her head back in. “Oh and have some fun while you’re at it.”

Once I’m alone, I climb on top of the vanity popping my ear
buds in scanning through my playlist until I come across what I am looking for.
It changes almost every time I perform. I was ten when I started this. Back
then I was listening to N’Sync on my Discman. I turn the volume up until it
hurts. 30 Seconds to Mars ‘Attack’ sings through my headphones and
instinctively I start to relax. In these few moments before I hit the stage
that’s exactly what I’m in great need of.

Closing my eyes and listening to the music makes my muscles
slink down. I know that I was born to dance. It’s a feeling I get deep down in
my bones right before I hear the music start. I let every fear, insecurity fall
to the side pushing back the butterflies that loom behind threatening to come
forward. Meditation is the best way to describe it. I will continue to climb
onto countertops and vanities until I can’t dance any longer.

“Kennedy, you’re up,” William knocks thunderously, shouting
his command through the door.

I drop my iPod in my bag to swing open the door. He’s
standing against the wall waiting. He’s clearly annoyed by how slow I’m moving.
“I got sidetracked. Sorry.”

“You’re fine. It’s a full house.” William ushers me towards
the stage.

Violet is right. William is adorable in that nerdy sort of
way. He will more than likely go to college to become oddly good looking like
most of the guys before him. They peek late, making up for it by the time they
walk across the stage at college graduation.

 I stand between two curtains waiting for them to be drawn
before I can take my place on the stage. The mahogany floor creaks as I step
out from my hiding spot trying my best not to throw up as I see the lights
darken above me. Standing in the dark I can hear the hushed whispers of the
crowd. It only intensifies the butterflies that I thought had disappeared. The
curtains begin to move and for a split second I think about bolting back to the
dressing room to hide. Running off the stage seems like a better option than
humiliation. The lights spiral on above me leaving me in a soft yellow glow.

That’s when I see him.

Without understanding why, my eyes are drawn to him. He is
the only person in the room as I wait for the music to fade in. Graham’s
sitting with the same guys that always seem to surround him in hopes of
becoming a fraction of who he is. I don’t know any of their names. I don’t want
to know their names. Right beside him is Amanda, his “girlfriend”. Well at
least his girlfriend for the time being.

Everyone knows his “relationships” don’t have a chance in
H-E-double hockey sticks of surviving. At least none of his previous ones that
I’ve had the pleasure of seeing in the hallway deteriorate for us all to see.
It’s always in some public display of angst and teenage heartbreak. The girls
cry begging him to not do “it”--whatever “it” is. Graham always seems distant
and unaffected by their tears. He is cold and callous, unattached from
everything around him.

I suddenly feel vulnerable standing on the stage. I notice
Graham looking up at me and that feeling intensifies only to disappear as
quickly as it came. It just…fluttered away and now I can’t break my eyes away
from him. He knows it too. 

Did he just wink at me?

My body betrays me along with the heat that creeps up on my
cheeks. The pink can be seen from outer space, I’m positive it’s to an
embarrassing color by now. Just as the music starts to play through the
auditorium I almost think I catch Graham leaning forward in his seat with a
fascination in his eyes. There’s intrigue on his lips as they part watching me
do what I love.

Chapter Four

-Graham-

“I can’t believe we have to sit through a second act of this
bullshit,” I yell down to Mark who is sitting on the opposite end of the aisle
from me.

Amanda convinced him to trade her seats. I was annoyed at
first, but you don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Mark knew that the last
thing I wanted was to have to entertain Amanda. That explains the shit eating
grin he’s sporting. He knew the whole time what he was doing when he agreed to
her commands. He figured better me than him. Asshole. 

Amanda smacks me on the arm. “It hasn’t been that bad,” she
says defensively. I don’t know why she wanted to come in the first place. She
usually hates these things. If she isn’t the center of attention that meant
that she had zero interest.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I close my eyes
slumping down in my seat. The lights in the auditorium lowered signaling that
the second half was about to begin and hopefully would be over quicker than the
first half.

Mark wrinkled up the program that he was holding and threw
it at me. “Kennedy Conrad’s up next. Don’t we have government with her?” he
leans forward whispering. I sit up a little bit straighter at hearing her name.
That’s confusing.

“What’s she doing?” I asked to no one in particular before
opening up the crinkled program and scanning down the list to find her name.

Dance? Interesting.

The red velvet curtains part and standing there in the dark
I can see the silhouette of who I assume is Kennedy. She looks nervous even
from where I am sitting. Somehow out of all of the people in the crowd she
catches eyes with me once the lights slowly illuminate the stage.

At first I think I am seeing things, maybe her parents are
sitting directly behind me but recognition scans over her face. She is
definitely looking at me. Her eyes are wide with surprise as if she is trying
to work something out in her own head. I wink at her and I could have sworn I
saw her blush from where I am sitting. Could she be anymore sweet and innocent?

The music fades in throughout the room and the lights shine
down brightly bathing her in a soft yellow glow. She’s wearing those black pants
that I consider to be God’s gift to man. A black tank top that is covered in
sequins allowing the top to stand out amongst the blackness of the rest of her
outfit. Her feet are bare and her hair is in a loose braid with a few pieces
coming free.  Katy Perry’s E.T. plays through the sound system. A little more
provocative than I would expect from someone like her, but a nice choice. It
does its job and peaks my interest.

Kennedy takes a deep breath in and exhales. I sit forward in
my seat trying to get a better glance into what is about to happen on the stage
in front of me. I find myself feeling intrigued by her once again as she begins
to move her body across the stage. For a split second, I actually think it is
someone else dancing in front of me.

The way Kennedy is moving her body is intoxicating. With
every move she makes, you can see everything she is feeling spilling out onto
the stage. She leaves herself exposed. I know I am not the only one to notice.
The entire room falls silent as she dances. There is a beauty in the way her
body moves that you can’t look away from in fear of missing a single second.

I am beginning to think that maybe I’ve been misjudging the
type of person she is. Why doesn’t she walk through the hallways with the
confidence that she bleeds out onto the stage? I have a feeling that she likes
it that way. She likes going unnoticed. By the look on everyone’s face gazing
up at her as she finishes and the music faded out, the shy girl isn’t going to
be able to hide any longer. She officially has been labeled “noticed” by
everyone, even me.

Kennedy stands in the middle of the stage looking out at the
audience that she has just left awestruck. Everyone stands up in appreciation.
Her cheeks redden as she bends down to bow then exits off the side of the stage
as quickly as possible not taking a second glance my way. I don’t understand
why I feel disappointment to see her go. That’s a box I’m not willing to open.

Mark catches my attention mouthing, “Damn”.

“No shit,” I say a little too loud. Amanda catches on to our
exchange.

“It wasn’t that great,” Amanda rolls her eyes before
grabbing for my hand to hold onto. The gesture feels territorial. I’ve never
really been one to pepper my steak before I eat it, but if it makes it better
for her then so-be it. I’ll play along for now. “We going to Craig’s after
this?” she asks with her usual sex filled glint in her eye.

“Yeah, but I’m not staying that long. I have some things to
do tomorrow,” I lie. I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow. I’m just not
in the mood to party all night again. More times than not it gets out of hand
and I’m not in the mood to deal with all that bullshit tonight.

“What do you have to do tomorrow?” Amanda is obviously
annoyed that I have no intention of inviting her over to stay. That is our
normal routine. She doesn’t like to feel rejected which is exactly where this
is heading.

“Just things with my mom…not that big of a deal,” I pull my
hand away from hers. I don’t understand a girls need to hold hands. One or both
hands end up sweaty. It’s gross and pointless.

“Whatever,” she concedes slumping down in her chair like a
child folding her arms over her chest. What am I even doing with this girl?
Amanda annoys the shit out of me most of the time. On the other hand she’s always
a sure thing. There’s no arguing with that logic.

Amanda doesn’t speak to me through the rest of the talent
show. Her silence is more of a gift than a punishment. The rest of the acts
were mediocre at best. No one held a torch to Kennedy. There was something
about her that’s hard to dismiss, difficult to forget.

What the hell is wrong with me? I don’t even know this girl.

Chapter Five

-Kennedy-

I walk off the stage trying to catch my breath. Shaking the
thoughts from my head as I make my way back to my dressing room to gather up my
clothes, I have no intentions of staying for the rest of the talent show. The
last thing I want to deal with is everyone’s eyes on me. After all, they stood
up and clapped. It’s the most attention any of them have given me since
starting school freshman year. I start walking towards the back entrance that
connects to the farthest parking lot. Against my better judgment, something
stops me and I turn back around heading towards the auditorium. 

I quietly shut the door behind me not to interrupt the act
that is on the stage performing. I instantly regret coming back in here as I
make my way slowly down the aisle trying to blend in to the darkness as much as
possible. Violet must have been waiting for me to come in. She waves me down to
where she is seated. Although I love her, she is way too overzealous when it
comes to things that embarrass me.

I can’t just ignore her, so I close the gap between us in
hopes of stopping her flailing arms. She sat in the middle aisle which means I
will have no option but to walk right past Graham and his army of followers.

“Kennedy, you did amazing. See, it wasn’t that bad,” Violet
says loudly catching everyone’s attention which is exactly what I’m trying to
avoid by my original plan to sit in the back unnoticed.

“Thank you, but you don’t need to shout,” I force a smile at
her as I slouch down in the worn out fabric covered seat.

I don’t know why I do it. Something against my own will has
me to look back over to where Graham is sitting. He is pulling his hand away
from Amanda’s grasp. A part of me desperately wants him to notice me. He never
did bother to turn towards me. I’m still going unnoticed. I’m not even sure why
I care.

The rest of the talent show doesn’t last much longer,
thankfully. I’m ready to get out of here before anyone says anything to me.

“You want to go to Craig’s with me tonight? Please, please,
please,” Violet begs elbowing me in the side to grab my attention as I make my
way up the aisle. I hate when she puts me on the spot like this.

Amanda is directly behind us and overhears Violet’s question
as we are making small steps to getting out of the crowded auditorium.
“Kennedy’s not going to Craig’s. Why do you even bother asking? We all know
it’s not her scene,” she snarls in my direction. Her voice is sharp as if she
can’t be bothered with the idea of me showing up at someplace she intends on
being. “Just because you can dance like a stripper doesn’t mean you’ll gain the
attention of the guys around here.”

It works for he
r. I don’t have the audacity to say
that out loud, but it’s a thrilling thought.

Graham slides past us trying to get to his friends when he
stops dead in his tracks causing me to nearly collide into his back. He turns
to face the three of us. I suck in my breath in surprise practically bouncing
backwards to put some distance between us.

“If they danced like you then I’d be spending my weekends at
the strip clubs,” Graham winks at me (Again!) then turns to catch up with his
friends. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck. Amanda groans under her
breath in irritation at her boyfriend’s comment.

I look over at Amanda wanting to say something, to stand up
for myself. I choose not to. Graham handled it for me. She is right about me
not fitting in with the rest of them. Drunk and stoned teenagers aren’t and
will never be my scene. I am proud of that. I have nothing against people who
think it is the only way to spend a Saturday night. It’s just not something
that has ever intrigued me and Violet knows that. It doesn’t stop her from
asking me every weekend. The answer is always the same.

“Don’t listen to her. She’s a bitch and you don’t dance like
a stripper. As for Graham’s comment,
holy shit
,” Violet squeals linking
her arm through mine as we walk the rest of the way to our cars in the parking
lot. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Just be safe tonight and call me if you need a ride,” I
remind her. I hate to think that Violet would be dumb enough to drink and
drive, but things happen. Life happens.

“That’s why I love you. Always taking care of my ass,” she
says in her sweetest voice prancing off to her car.

“I love you too.” I call out. With that, I am on my way back
home to spend my weekend how I usually do when I’m not with Violet. Alone, and
yes I know how pathetic it actually sounds to admit. I pull out of the parking
lot and roll down my windows letting the cool wind run circles through my car.

I turn my music up loud and for the first time tonight I
feel relaxed. I had gotten through dancing in front of everyone from school
without making a complete idiot of myself. That was my one and only goal for
the night.

It isn’t long until I am pulling into my driveway. We live
only three miles down the road in a development that is fairly new, a few
cul-de-sacs linked together by a few smaller streets. Outside of the
neighborhood there are a few larger homes that look out of place amongst the
rest of ours. I pull in to find both of my parent’s cars sitting in the
driveway. They shouldn’t be home already. I nearly had to push them out the
door earlier convincing them that they didn’t need to come watch me. It’s the
anniversary for crying out loud and they’ve seen me dance almost every day
since I was three. I think they could miss this one performance.

 As I stepped in the front door, I immediately understood
why they were home before ten. They’re arguing. Shocker.

It’s been the same argument for a while now. How are they
going to continue to help my brother with school while sending me to Columbia
at the same time? The odd thing about this argument is that I haven’t even been
accepted yet, and they still insist on having this pointless fight. I’ve
explained that I’m not against taking out student loans. They counter with the
same argument every time--“We aren’t making your brother and we aren’t going to
make you.” My hope is to go on scholarship, if I even get accepted. 

I went straight to my room. I don’t even think my parents
noticed me sneaking by them. I pull on a pair of my most embarrassingly
comfortable sweatpants and a hoodie after getting out of the shower and grab my
book from the nightstand. I begin to read and before I know it, it’s already
past midnight. My parents are now at the lower level of the argument, but no
matter which way you turn it’s still an argument. I hate when they argue
especially about something that is still out of mine or anyone’s control.

I try to continue to read, but it becomes impossible to
drown out their words. I walk over to my window and slide it open just as I
have for the past two years since we moved in. Whenever my parent’s fight, I
have the urge to go for a walk. I did it one night after a really big one and
it sort of became a habit. I never go too far in fear of upsetting them if they
find my room empty. I just go far enough to clear my head of everything.

My parents love each other more than two people should be
capable of, so don’t get the wrong idea by the fighting. Like other couples
that go through financial difficulties and have been together for as long as
they have, they’re bound to pick a fight now and then. It’s always the same
thing. They wake up in the morning and all’s forgiven and forgotten until the
next time. I can only dream of finding a love like theirs.

They met freshman year of college, both studying accounting.
Of course, they have opposite ideas of how the night they met actually went.
Mom claims that she didn’t want anything to do with my dad. Dad likes to
remember that night with Mom plopping her butt on his lap begging for a ride
home from a party. We’ll never know the truth. Watching them argue about it
throughout the years made it painfully obvious how much they truly love each
other. You can just see the pureness in their eyes when they look at each other
remembering where their story began. Like I said, I can only dream of that type
of love.

It felt comforting being outside away from their growing
voices inside the house though. The sky is clear making it hard to get my eyes
off the stars as I walk down the dirt road. I can make out a few different constellations
and even thought I seen a shooting star. I figured it was only my tired mind
playing tricks on me. It’s quiet enough to block out their arguments, which is
exactly what I need. The stillness allows me to clear my mind, to let it all go
blank when I find it hardest to find some form of peace.

I think I spot the little dipper through the trees that loom
over the road. I stand dead in my tracks to see if I actually found the obvious
cluster of stars. I don’t even see it coming as I squint towards the darkness.
It just happens. I don’t know what it is. It happens too quickly to comprehend.
I feel the hard metal slamming into my body. It’s quick and unannounced, but
there is a feeling in the air before the initial impact. Something shifts and
twists noticeably running a chill down my spine before I feel the impact
against my oblivious unprepared body. 

I hit the dirt road harder than I can dream up. My body
feels as if a bolder has been dropped on to it. Getting air into my lungs seems
impossible while my bones crack and snap from the pressure. Before I know it my
world goes black from the excruciating pain. There is a silence in the world
for however long I’m out. It’s a strange feeling. When I finally come back to
consciousness all I see is the massive silhouette of someone kneeling beside
me. I know that everything is going to be okay somehow.