When Our Worlds Collide (32 page)

Chapter Forty-Nine

-Kennedy-

“You guys are disgustingly cute by the way. It’s fucking
nauseating,” Violet laughs digging in her purse. She comes out with a
chap-stick grinning from ear to ear like she just found the lost treasure.

“He likes to lay it on thick,” I joke taking the chap-stick
from her hand and applying a thin coat to my lips.

Graham walks out to the pitcher’s mound and all
conversations between my best friend and I go silent. It’s difficult to pay
attention to anything else when he’s playing. She understands. Or at least she
pretends to for my sake.

Like every other time I’ve ever watched him pitch he’s on
his game tonight. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that he’s only in high school.
He plays with every nerve and cell in his body. He’s meant to play and by the
nodding approval from the scouts along the fence they know it too. There has to
be at least six of them watching in awe.

Throughout the game I sneak a glance at the Georgia coach to
see his reaction to a pitch or a certain play. He’s easy to spot. He has on the
familiar red hat with the large G on the front. He looks impressed, but how can
you not be when someone has as much talent as Graham.

University of Georgia is Graham’s dream. He’s always
imagined going there to play since he was a kid. I don’t think he ever thought
that it would be a possibility by the way he’s been talking the past few weeks.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember that he’s this popular, confident guy when he
talks. He has such doubt in himself. That has a lot to do with his father. You
couldn’t really blame him for feeling unworthy when your own father treats you
like a doormat every chance he gets.

Violet elbowed me in the side. I turn to face her and give
her an annoyed look. “What?” I demand.

Violet points at someone behind me. “Who’s that?” she asks.

I turned to look in the direction of where her finger is
pointing to see Graham’s mother walking up the bleachers with an older man.
He’s probably in his early fifties with dark hair that’s starting to grey.

“I think that’s Graham’s dad,” I explain in a whisper. I’m
shocked to see him. I can’t look away from them now that I know they are here.
Graham’s mother turns in my direction giving me a small wave and smile. She
turns back to his father whispering something in his ear, probably explaining
who I am.
Great
.

Graham pitches the best game of his life tonight. They won
twelve to zero. You wouldn’t believe it by the way his father spoke from the
bleachers. I have a feeling that he’s drunk by the way he shouts with no regard
for his son who’s pitching the most important game of his life. Graham walks
off the field immediately looking over at me. He winks. I can’t hold back from
scanning my eyes back and forth between his father and him. Graham catches on
to what I’m doing and shrugs his shoulders like it isn’t a big deal.

I hang around for a few minutes for Graham to head my way
before he’s escorted to talk to the Georgia scouts. He comes up behind me as
I’m talking with Violet wrapping his arms around my waist lowering his lips to
my neck. I turn into his strong body wrapping my arms around his trim waist.

“Good game babe,” I say.

“Thanks,” he forces a smile. I know a genuine Graham Black
smile from a fake one. The real ones make my knees wobble and my heart to race.
This smile had forced written all over it.

I look up at him to get a better look in his eyes. That’s
his tell all for how he’s feeling. His eyes are passive as if he isn’t sure how
he should feel about his belligerent father terrorizing him from the bleachers
for a better half of the game.

“You okay?” I ask kissing him quickly.

“I will be. Just need to impress the scouts and then it will
all be out of my hands.”

“You know that’s not what I am talking about.”

“I know it’s not, baby.” Graham kisses me one more time
before heading off to meet with the scouts. The look of embarrassment and
sorrow on his face nearly breaks my heart.

Violet and I make it out to the now empty parking lot. We’re
standing by her car waiting for Dan to come out of the locker room discussing
Violet’s recent shoe dilemma. Graham’s probably in Coach’s office with the
scouts mapping out his future as we speak. I can’t be prouder of him. He deserves
everything that’s thrust upon him.

As the players fall out of the locker room door one by one,
they each throw us a small wave or some bro nod as our conversation shifts into
Dan’s party tonight. Violet makes her demand known. I must stick by her side
until Graham’s there. She caught sight of Craig talking to me earlier before
the game. After our run in with him during our girl’s night out at dinner she
doesn’t trust him as far as either of us can throw him. 

“I promise I’ll stay by you or Dan since you will probably
be up each other’s asses anyways,” I explain rolling my eyes at her worry.
Craig’s just a teenage boy with a bruised ego. He’ll get over the whole
situation soon enough and be dry humping another girls leg before we can say
“man whore”.

“Very funny,” she smacks me on the back of my head
playfully. Suddenly her smile fades leaving a serious scowl across her lips.
“Stay away from him, Kennedy. I mean it.”

I nod in understanding.

“Who does she need to stay away from?” Dan startles us both
causing us to jump. “Geez, you two are jumpy tonight.”

Violet and I both avoid answering Dan’s question the entire
ride to the party. Craig’s one of his best friends. How do you explain to
someone that their best friend is a sexual predator?

By the time we pull into Dan’s driveway the lawn is covered
with cars. It’s usually like this. I think that’s how most small towns are.
Everyone shows up to the parties, at least those accepted by the “in crowd”.
The music is already turned up and guys and girls are stumbling around the
property trying to find someone to keep them warm for the night. Your normal
high school party in America.

The three of us walk through the front door and are greeted
by practically everyone that we go to school with and a few that we don’t
recognize. An inebriated freshman girl bumps into me on her venture upstairs
holding hands with a very sober senior football player. I don’t know his name.
Part of me feels like it’s my responsibility to stop her before anything
happens. After everything that I went through it seems like the appropriate
thing to do. Even if I did stop her she would have shrugged me off. The guy
notices me glaring at them. He winks right at me causing my stomach to flip.
Disgusting
.

“Who are all these people?” I shout over the loud music
that’s infiltrating every room in the house.

“God, you never really did get out before Graham, did you?
We go to school with most of these people, Kennedy. A few of the players from
the team we just beat are here too,” Dan answers shaking his head at my lack of
a social life. He grabs Violet by the hand guiding her into the kitchen to grab
a drink. I’m left alone to navigate my own way around the packed rooms.
Luckily, Violet comes back a few minutes later holding a red cup up to me. I
take a long pull without asking what exactly she is force feeding me.

Beer.

Gross.

I take another sip from my cup hoping that it will help my
tense muscles relax. When Graham isn’t by my side I still feel out of place.
Our school is your typical high school. People stick with the group that they
know and most aren’t forgiving to new comers. That’s why I never feel like I
fit in anywhere. Then Graham came into my life and all of a sudden I was thrust
into his world where booze and sex and sports are a top priority. It’s still
hard to adjust. To feel like I can be myself around people who have spent two
years ignoring my existence isn’t an easy feat.

“Hey,” a hypnotic deep masculine voice comes from my left. I
turn to face the voice and am greeted by the biggest smirk I’ve ever seen on a
guy. His dimples stand out on his tanned chiseled face. This kid could be a
model. His looks don’t rival Graham’s, but he’s definitely not struggling for
attention from the opposite sex.

“Hi,” I say passively turning my attention on Violet who’s
fighting back a laugh. I mouthed ‘What?’ This only makes her laugh harder.

“I’m Jacob Landers,” he introduces himself like the names
supposed to mean something to me.

“I’m Kennedy and this is Violet.” I point to my best friend
who’s exchanging a look with Dan who’s now standing beside her with his arm
around her waist. What the hell has gotten into these two?

“It’s nice to meet you. Has anyone ever told you that you
have the most beautiful eyes?” Jacob laid it on thick.

Why’s he hitting on me?

You’d have to give him an A for effort. Most girls would be
falling at his feet the way he was looking down at me. That is because most
girls don’t have Graham Black either. I’d give it to the kid, he’s rather cute.
He has sandy blonde hair and gorgeous hazel eyes that stick out. There is
innocence in them, but if you bothered to look a smidgen deeper you can see the
real mischief is hidden underneath. Not to mention he has a pretty damn good
body that’s towering over everyone at the party. He has to be at least 6’3,
maybe 6’4.

Like I said, most girls would lose a limb to be on this
guy’s arm. Unlucky for him, I’m not most girls.

“I’m sure Graham tells her all the time,” Dan interrupts
with a triumphant grin on his face. He’s clearly getting a kick out of this.
Jacob looks between the three of us, but his eyes stop dead on me. He scans his
eyes up and down my body letting his stare land a little too long on my chest.

“Graham Black?” This response causes Violet to laugh even
louder. I sort of feel bad for Jacob now.

“That would be the one. The one and only Graham Black
already snagged this little piece up,” Dan explains with an almost proud grin.
He looks like he wants to either knock this guy out or applaud him for hitting
on Graham Black’s girlfriend.

“Graham’s your boyfriend?” Jacob asks then continues without
waiting for my answer. “Of course you’re his girlfriend. He couldn’t keep his
eyes off of you leaning against that damn fence like everyone else in our
dugout. I’ll have to relay the message that you’re off limits. It’s too bad
really.” Jacob smiles then turns around heading towards a group of guys who are
loitering close by. They all turn to look back at me.

“What the hell just happened?” I ask out loud to anyone
who’s willing to clear up my confusion.

“It seems that you have a baseball team of admirers,” Violet
says in a matter of fact way.

I’m not naïve. I know that I’m not the ugliest girl in the
bunch. I just don’t see anything special when I look in the mirror. Nothing
about me stands out as fantastic. Ever since Graham had shown an interest in
me, it seems that all the other boys have fallen in suit with him. It’s sort of
annoying. How is it possible that I went this long without gaining any
attention from guys? Now all of a sudden they are swarming?

I join Violet and Dan at a game of beer pong waiting for
Graham to show up. People come and go while we play. No one else approaches me,
but I can still feel eyes on me. If what Jacob is saying is true then a whole
slew of baseball players are checking me out. He thankfully must have relayed
the message back to them that I’m hands off. I doubt anyone will risk hitting
on me knowing that Graham is my boyfriend.

I check my cell phone a few dozen times. No texts or missed
calls. It’s already almost eleven and nothing from Graham. I’m worried, but
know that he’s probably still with Coach. He deserves to take all the time in
the world if it means that his future can be a little brighter.

I feel eyes on me again after I slide my cell phone in my
back pocket. This time it’s different. Eeriness falls over me. I turn slowly to
see who’s standing nearby, finding a pair of alarming blue eyes. They are
saying something, but I don’t know what it is. I can’t read him quick enough.

Craig leans in towards where I’m standing not moving too far
off of the wall. He knows if Violet even sees him in the same room as me that
she will freak the hell out, but she’s too busy arguing “house rules” with Dan.

Craig’s calculating and manipulative. This isn’t a good
combination.

“You’re so damn naive,” he whispers in my ear as he holds
tight to my forearm.

I shift to get out of his grasp turning my attention back on
Violet nudging her on the arm to gain her attention. She turns to see Craig
turning away from where we were just standing.

“Stay away from her,” Violet whisper yells making sure no
one hears her threat. Craig laughs hysterically before leaving us to finish our
game.

“That guy gives me the creeps and to think that I once
thought he was so damn gorgeous. You know I actually hooked up with him
sophomore year. Worst mistake,” Violet utters under her breath taking the last
shot in the game to finish it all up. As I watch the ping pong ball bounce into
the last cup I’m thankful. I’m not in the mood to play anymore.

Where the hell is Graham when I need him?

Chapter Fifty

-Graham-

Kennedy is right. Luck isn’t something that I’d need. The
discussion with the coach from Georgia couldn’t have gone any better if I had
scripted it myself. He commended me on my pitching and my rhythm on the field
along with my knowledge of the game. It feels nice to hear from someone other
than my coach that I can make it far in the sport that I’ve loved all of my
life. He explains that he can’t give me a formal commitment but it will be safe
to assume that if I want Georgia then they want me once I graduated.

I let out a sigh of relief when Coach shuts the door behind
him after exchanging pleasantries with a few handshakes and slaps across the
back. He slumps down in his chair looking over his desk at me. I can tell he
wants to say something. You can always tell by the stiffness in the room. You
can cut whatever it is with a knife.

“What is it, Coach?” I break the silence that’s practically
deafening.

“I don’t know how to breech this topic with you. Once I say
it, I need you to be honest with me. I don’t want to hear any bullshit from
you,” he explains. “The thing is that I shouldn’t be bringing this up to you
and in my head I know that, but I’ve been your coach since freshman year. I can’t
stand back and not say anything. You’re like a son to me.” He leans forward
resting his elbows on the desk. He looks pained as he runs his hand down his
face.

This wasn’t going to be good.

That’s coaches sign for “Get the hell out of dodge—you’re
not going to like what I’m about to say”.

“What’s going on, Coach?” I lean back in the chair resting
an ankle over my knee preparing myself for whatever he’s going to say.

“It’s about your Dad, Graham.” Coach waits to see what I
will say. When I don’t respond leaving the silence between us he continues. “I
heard him in the stands tonight. The way he speaks to you isn’t how a father
speaks to his son, so I’m going to let you explain your relationship to me. I’d
hate to assume something that’s not true.”

I sit there in this tiny chair debating on what to say. I
focus on the framed photos and awards along his walls. There’s a wooden frame
on his desk that holds a photo of him and his family. He has a wife and three
kids, two boys and one girl. They all look happy standing around a picnic table
in a park.

“The All-American family,” I say under my breath making sure
he doesn’t hear.

I wondered if we have any photos in our house like that one.
I wonder if we have ever been that happy. I’d like to think in the beginning
that we were. No one wants to believe that their father has always loathed his
own family.

“Coach, it’s not what you think,” I lie. “He can just be
tough on me.” I lie again.

“Graham, that’s not being tough. The things he was saying
were inappropriate and unnecessary. You can talk to me.” Coach stands from his
chair behind his desk. He comes and sits in front of me leaning against the
desk. His eyes scorch into me. He’s waiting for the truth that he’ll never get.

That’s when it hit me. He knows. There is no doubt in my
mind that he already knows my secret. See the way he’s looking at me right now?
There’s pity in his eyes, something that I have avoided all these years by not
telling anyone about my father except for one person. Except for one person, only
one person knows everything.

Kennedy.

I stifle my anger trying not to let my emotions get the
better of me. Reality is that I’m ready to punch something, anything as long as
it breaks with the impact.

“Coach, you want me to be honest with you but you can’t be
honest with me. I know you know so let’s cut the shit, okay?” I let my voice
rise with my budding anger.

“Let’s cut the shit then. I know that black eye wasn’t from
you getting into a fight, so explain to me what happened and don’t lie to me
this time.” Coach demands. He’s getting angrier right alongside me.

I explain it to him. The whole damn truth. I’m far from
happy about having to spill all my families’ dirty little secrets. There’s no
lying to him when he already knows the truth. This pisses me off even more. He
never does admit that it’s Kennedy who approached him, but he doesn’t need to.
He avoids my questions when I ask him how he knows.

Kennedy’s the one person besides my mother and hers that
knows what happens when I’m, at home with my drunk of a father. She’s the one
who keeps demanding that I need to confide in someone. She’s also the same
person who worries every day because of what she knows. I understand why she
did what she did, but that doesn’t mean that I’m happy about her choice. In
fact, the more I sit here telling Coach about my shitty life my irritation
boils over the side of the pot.

 Coach keeps reassuring me that if I need anything at all
that he will be just a phone call away, to not hesitate to pick up the phone. I
tell him thank you and that if it gets worse that I will come to him first
before I walk out of his office. I think we both know that’s a lie.

I have zero intentions of ever confiding in him or anyone
else. I can handle this on my own. I’ve done it on my own for years. That’s not
going to change any time soon.

The parking lot is deserted by the time I make it out to my
car. The cool air hits me. I stand beside my car before slamming my fist into
the window. It seems like a good release in the moment. One thing I know for
certain is that I need to get drunk. That’s what I need to do.

I jump in my car blasting the radio to full throttle. The
angry rock music helps calm my nerves as I head straight to Dan’s house. I know
that I’ll have to deal with Kennedy when I see her. Good thing I have no
intentions of seeing her…right away---at least. Maybe not at all.

Dan has his secret stash of tequila in the garage. I just
need to cut the edge off before I listened to Kennedy’s excuses. That’s what
I’ll do. A couple of shots and I’ll be golden.

Kennedy will feed me a line on how telling Coach was for my
own good. Blah, Blah, Blah. She’s the one who promised me that she wouldn’t
breathe a word. She promised me that she would keep it between us. She even
made her mom make the same sacrifice for me, but she couldn’t do it in the end.
When the tough got going she bailed on the plan and did what she thought was
best without thinking about how it would affect my life.

Now I’m going to have to deal with Coach watching me,
fearing for my well-being. That isn’t something that I want. It’s bad enough
that Kennedy voices her concerns all the damn time.

Pulling onto Dan’s road I park my car down a ways in the
closest spot I can find. I walk up the driveway avoiding everyone to sneak in the
side window. The door is kept locked to make sure no one like me can sneak in.

Oh well. Luckily no one saw me making my way up to the
party.

I find the bottle just where I know it will be, popping the
top. The clear liquid slides down rough the first time, but after the first
five pulls it goes down much smoother. I know I’m on my way of being completely
obliterated. I can’t find it in myself to even care. I don’t care about
anything right now. I sit with my back against the steel garage door taking a few
more sips before putting it back where I found it. Dan will know someone was in
here when he comes looking for something more expensive to drink. I let the
liquid do its job, not entering the house until everything in front of me
appears to be a blur.

Being drunk is surprisingly relaxing. I take the few steps
into the house from the garage and am greeted by a few of the guys from the
team and cheerleaders. They’re hanging around in the kitchen. I scan the room
to find Amanda leaning against the counter top talking to Becky.

Damn, Amanda looked hot. She’s wearing that short denim
skirt that I love. Pair it with a revealing top that makes her tits look
phenomenal and I’m practically drooling. I want to bury myself in her and
disappear for at least a few hours. After taking a few confident steps towards
her I remember I have something to do. The alcohol is my driver of destruction
tonight. If I remember correctly, not even thirty minutes ago I was planning on
avoiding Kennedy. The tequila is making me think otherwise. 

“Where’s Kennedy at?” I ask anyone who’s willing to listen.
Amanda pushes off the counter with her eyes zeroed in on me as she sways her
hips towards me.

Oh boy, this should be interesting as it always is with
Amanda.

“Are you okay?” Amanda asks with obvious concern.

“I’m fine. I just need to find Kennedy. Have you seen her?”
I can tell I’m swaying. My suspicion is confirmed when Amanda sticks her arm
out to stabilize me.

“She was in the living room last time I saw her. With Dan
and Violet. Are you sure you’re okay? Jesus, you can barely stand up on your
own.” She catches my elbow with cat like reflex. I’m using the small table in
the hallway to keep my balance. I’m a shit show.

“Quit worrying about me. Last time I checked you usually are
only worried about where my dick is headed, now if you’ll excuse me.” I turn on
her leaving the kitchen and her behind. Not before I see her mouth wide open.

Just how I always use to like it.

I stumble through the hallway until I find Kennedy sitting
on a chair talking quietly to Violet. Her eyes light up when they fall on me.
They quickly fall when she witnesses me running into the wall with my shoulder.
It’s painfully obvious that I’m drunk. She has no idea why I am in the state I
am. That it is
all
her fault. My life was just fine the way it was
before she had to jump in front of my car. Now look at it.
My life’s a
fucking mess.

Kennedy jumps from her seat causing Violet to turn in our
direction. She grabs ahold of my chin the moment she’s in front of me forcing
me to look up at her.

“What’s wrong, Graham? You look a mess,” she questions with
concern in her voice.

It’s pretty funny how she’s now all of a sudden concerned
for me. She couldn’t bothered being concerned when she went and ran her mouth
to Coach.

“What’s wrong with me?” I spit out with a mouth full of
venom. “What’s wrong with me, Kennedy?” I push out between breaths. Honestly,
I’m trying to stay calm. I truly am. I know my anger is making its way to the
surface. Having her stand in front of me looking all helpless and cute isn’t
helping her cause. She is anything, but innocent here.

I brush her hands off of me walking by her into the room
where everyone is now gathering to watch my melt down.

“I’ll give you one guess what’s wrong with me, Ken. It has
something to do with a certain aspect of my life that I would have preferred to
keep hidden. Does that ring a fucking bell to you or are you too stupid to know
that you completely fucked my life up by coming into it?” I yell as I turn
around to face her again.

Kennedy’s face drops as she takes a step towards me.

“Graham, let’s talk somewhere alone. You’re clearly drunk
and I know you’re upset, but you have to understand why I did what I did,”
Kennedy whispers trying not to draw a crowd. It’s too late by the volume of my
voice.

Violet comes around the couch leaving Dan sitting stunned.
He’s watching the way I’m behaving in disbelief. She stands by Kennedy’s side
holding onto one of her arms with a worried expression on her face when she
looks at her best friend. I’m only warranted a death glare that is almost
enough to make me cower. I still don’t find it in myself to care.

When I turn to look into Kennedy’s eyes I see tears fighting
to come forth. I haven’t seen her cry in a long time. I prefer it that way. At
least I used to, now I’m not so sure if I even have a reason to care. She
stands there with her best friend by her side and everyone we know watching us.
Kennedy’s eyes never drop from mine until I make her by saying things that I
probably don’t truly mean. The words seem to fit how I feel no matter how bad
they sting coming out of my mouth.

“Did you not hear me? You completely fucked my life up. You
stuck your nose in something that isn’t your business. You live in this bubble
where everything is sunshine and rainbows when some of us have real problems,”
I yell turning my back on her again.

I went too far this time.
Fuck
.

“You don’t think I know that. I think we both know that I
understand what real problems are. If you’d get your head out of your ass you
would see that everything I have done has been for you,” Kennedy shouts back
shrugging Violet’s arm away from her. She starts to walk towards me. “God
dammit, Graham. This isn’t like you.”

“This is who I am. Maybe for a little while I let you
believe that I was different, but this is Graham Black. I drink, I play
baseball, and I fuck a different girl every weekend. I suggest you get used to
it because this is the only one you’ll be seeing from now on,” I shout throwing
my arms in the air. Violet wraps her arms around Kennedy just as she’s
beginning to fall apart in front of everyone. Her shoulders slump down as her
whole body convulses with the release of every tear.

I don’t look back as I walk out of the living room. I can
hear enough. Kennedy’s crying, more like sobbing and it’s my fault. Maybe what
I said to her was harsh. It was partly true. A part of me believed what I said.
Just a small part of me, probably the drunkest part of me believed that Kennedy
is wrong about me after all. The guy I described just then was the old Graham.
The Graham that I thought I was before Kennedy came along ruining everything I
believed to be true.

Once I walked out of the living room leaving Kennedy crying
and Violet probably wishing death upon me, I find Amanda leaning against the
hallway wall. She has a shit eating grin on her face. I know exactly what she
wants. Amanda always had a go to sign for when she was ready to speed things up
between us. See the biting of her lip and the gleam in her eyes? That’s the
sign that her panties are soaked.