Ridley - 4. Part 4

Realizing what I had just done my eyes shot open, but when I tried to pull my hand away from his shirt, he gripped it harder and grabbed hold of my other arm with his other hand. He pulled me back and I grunted as my weight shifted uncomfortably into the console between us. When his lips started moving against mine, that was forgotten and I closed my eyes again. Then he abruptly broke the kiss, gently pushing me away.

“That was,” he breathed, “can we go somewhere else so we can do that some more?”

“I better get home,” I said, feeling my face warm. The tears I fought were forced out when I closed my eyes to kiss him so I reached up and wiped their remnants from my cheeks and to adjust my glasses.

“Really?” He asked and I watched him lean back into his seat and turn to look out the windshield. “Because I think if I take you home, you’ll start thinking and I won’t get to do that again.”

“You never know,” I answered, glancing back down at the box in my lap.

“Come home with me,” he said and I felt his knuckles gently slide against my arm. “We won’t stay long.”

“I have a long car ride in the morning,” I said, glancing up at him, not really torn between going home and going over to his house. “We’re going up to see Dad.”

“Oh?” He said and I smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, they took him off a lot of his sedatives,” I answered looking up from the box to him.

“Okay,” he said and I watched him put the truck into gear and he gently pulled out of his parking spot and did a u-turn heading towards the exit.

It was a quick and quiet drive home, the two street lights were their usual green. The living room light was also on so I chickened out of any thoughts of another kiss. I didn’t know if I wanted to kiss him again or not anyway. The first one was a surprise as I felt high of the night and from Gabe’s gift.

“I’ll see you Monday,” I said, offering him a small smile.

“Yeah,” he said, still holding onto his steering wheel with both of his hands. He didn’t kill the engine, which eased some of my lingering nerves.

“Thank you again for this,” I said as I held up the box as I unfastened my seatbelt and let it slide across my chest and roll up. He offered me a smile.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said and I felt my face flush all over again as I smiled and nodded.

“My cell number is in the box,” he said, letting go of the steering wheel with his right hand. He reached across the console and ran his hand over my wrist. “Call me tomorrow after you see your dad?”

“Yeah,” I answered swallowing as he slid his hand back across the console to rest in his lap.

“And read the damn paper,” he added, shaking his head.

“Nah,” I offered as I grabbed the door handle and gently pushed the door open.

“Goodnight,” he said as I carefully slid out of his truck, my tired ankles aching when I hit the paved ground. I looked over at him and I knew that he was disappointed. I had opened a door and slammed it back shut in a span of moments and I didn’t have the best track record when it came to some promises either.

“Night,” I said as I got out of my own way so that I could close the door and walk up the driveway and onto the porch. When he saw that I was out of the way he slowly started backing out of the driveway and when he was back out onto the main road I waved and grabbed the front door and pushed it open with my free hand.

Mom was in the middle of a movie when I closed the door behind me. Seeing me she hit pause and the room fell silent as I started to walk through the living room so that I could get to the hallway. She had a bag of popcorn resting beside her and a glass of iced down water resting on a coaster on the coffee table.

“You’re home earlier than I thought you would be,” she said and I stopped walking, I should have known she wouldn’t let me go to my room without wanting to know what I got up to.

“Yeah,” I answered, feeling the weight of the box in my hand.

“Where’s your bag?” She asked and I glanced down at my left shoulder swearing under my breath then glanced in her direction making sure she didn’t hear me.

“I guess I forgot it,” I answered, sighing.

“He’ll bring it over tomorrow, surely,” she answered, offering me a smile. “What’s in the box?”

“Gabe surprised me with digital copies of all of my games,” I said as I glanced down at it in my hand. “So Dad and I can watch them together.”

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “That was so thoughtful of him to do, I hope you thanked him.”

“I did,” I said, swallowing, hoping nothing in my voice gave me away.

“Your Dad will really enjoy watching those when he gets to come home,” she said and I looked up to see her wiping her eyes. “That boy is a sweetheart.”

“I guess,” I said, shifting my weight not really wanting to talk about Gabe. “I’m going to go take a shower and get to bed, what time do you want me up?”

“Ridley,” Mom said as she sat the popcorn a little farther away from her, “don’t get angry.”

“No,” I said, already knowing what she was going to say. “I have to go.”

“They only want one visitor in to see him right now,” she answered, reaching her hand towards me, but I was too far away and too mad to close the distance. “There’s a dance tomorrow night too and I don’t want Cara home alone all weekend.”

“They let us all in to see him last Christmas,” I argued, my voice breaking as I blinked away tears.

“That was Christmas honey, and before some of his surgeries,” she said as she scooted to the edge of the couch. “I’m sorry, I tried, they said after a week or so to make sure the last of his skin grafts were healing then more people could come visit.”

“Mom, I need to see him,” I countered, looking away from her and towards the hallway. “Please.”

“I’m taking him a phone, you can talk to him when he’s feeling up to it,” she said her own voice cracking. “I didn’t want to tell you this earlier, knowing it would ruin a good night for you. I should have told you upfront before we surprised you, but he thought it would mess up your game.”

“Basketball, fuck basketball,” I hissed glaring at her. I knew it was out of her hands and not her fault, not really. I should have seen it coming too. Her change in tone earlier should have given her away.

“Language, Ridley,” Mom said as she stood and closed the distance between us. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not,” I said awkwardly, returning her hug with one of my hands full. “When can I see him?”

“I’ll know more after this weekend,” she answered as she broke the hug and I let my hands fall back to my sides. “It took a lot for him to sit up and make that phone call, he still has a long road ahead of him.”

“I know,” I said as she reached up and held me in place by my shoulders. “Why couldn’t we take turns?”

“It is a germ issue,” She answered and I could feel a second hug coming. “Any infection could set him back, they are taking a lot of extra precautions with me. I was only allowed to come, because we needed to discuss his care moving forward.”

“Okay, I get it,” I said, stepping out of her grip. She let her hands fall to her sides. She was still dressed in the dress she wore to the game, so I knew she had sat up and waited for me just to have this talk. Otherwise she would have changed into her pajamas and took off her make-up. “I’m going to my room.”

“I love you, please don’t be mad at me,” she said as she crossed her arms over her stomach.

“I’m not,” I said, forcing a small smile. “I love you too.”

Walking down the dark hallway to my room I opened the door and closed it behind me. I walked over to the bed and sat the box down and tossed the paper to the end of the bed. Remembering Gabe telling me he left his number in the box I reached over and opened it and pulled out a small post-it note then I grabbed my cell from my pocket and saved the number before dropping it on the bed beside me then looked up and stared at my closed bedroom door.

After a few minutes I felt my heart rate lower and I remembered that I wanted to shower. Sighing I stood and glanced down at the small box, then the paper on the bed. My face, with a foreign smile staring back at me. I wrinkled my nose reaching up, I pulled my glasses off and laid them on my nightstand then walked to my bedroom door and opened it then walked down the dark hallway to the bathroom. Unlike the rest of the rooms of the house, this one hadn’t seen a lot of updates, we still had a shower-tub. Mom liked changing out the shower curtains every couple of weeks. Being spring, she wanted brighter colors and bought a canary yellow one with a hexagonal pattern that reminded me of a beehive. Cara hated the color yellow and I didn’t care enough to complain. Pulling it back, I reached down and turned on the hot water then pulled the stopper that funneled the water pressure up to and out of the showerhead. I stripped out of my clothes and stepped over the edge and into the water dancing away from it, swearing until I adjusted the water.

Not really knowing what I wanted to do with myself now that I didn’t have to wake up early, I stayed in the shower until the water started getting cold. Turning the water off and hitting the stopper back down to release the water I pulled the shower curtain back open and stepped out onto the matching yellow mat, I grabbed a towel and dried off enough to keep from dripping down the hallway before wrapping the towel around my waist and opened the bathroom door. I walked back down the hallway and closed my bedroom door behind me letting my towel fall not far into my room.

I knew Mom wouldn’t change her mind about tomorrow and at least let me go with her, even if I didn’t get to see Dad. She didn’t have the power to change that anyway. I didn’t know which was worse. It was the first time he looked like my Dad again and I wanted more time.

I ended up sliding on a pair of boxer briefs. Too awake to sleep, but I was going to try anyway. Throwing back the covers, I flipped the paper onto the floor, it fell open face up and I looked down to see more blurry pictures of me, smaller and along the margins. Bending down I picked it up, seeing Gabe’s name I sat down on the edge of the bed. I couldn’t help remembering the kiss, how easily he accepted it and how easily I gave it. It wasn’t like me, I had been careful. I was more than ready to walk out of high school without having kissed anyone, it was just something that never fit with me.

Feeling my face flush I glanced back down at the feature, there in the middle of the outer side of the page just past the article, was a picture of me in the stands. It was at the end of a game and it was one Dad was home for, remembering Gabe telling me about always going up to talk to him instead of following the rest of the team into the locker room, I leaned forward my eyes squinting until I saw him better. Dad had one arm on my shoulder and I remembered that being the last game he was able to come to before he deployed. It was the last one that he saw me play before the bomb stole two years of him from us, the bomb that took James Ridley away from Dad and his own family forever. I remade the promise to keep playing after Dad came home and they told us that he had survived the explosion. It was no longer just me trying to make friends and experience what Dad enjoyed when he played in high school. Now that he was awake again, I felt the burden of that promise beginning to ease a little. I couldn’t help thinking that if nothing had happened and we didn’t lose those years, maybe the kiss wouldn’t have been so surprising. I doubted it, but I also didn’t think my night would have ended the way it did either.

Scanning the page for the other pictures, most of them being from this year, I finally landed on the title of the feature, half expecting my name in big bold letters. Instead I saw a small-ish article with Gabe’s name attached to it and I half-smirked thinking I really hadn’t given him much to work with. Sighing, I wrinkled my nose and grabbed my glasses, the curiosity finally getting the better of me I started to read:

Homecoming Pregame Feature and other Sports
– By Gabe Rice, Sports Journalist and Photographer

When it was announced the Homecoming feature would be on, Ridley Brooks, there weren’t many of us that raised our hands to take on such a task. Ridley has never been outspoken about being on the basketball team, if asked about his latest performance or how close he was to breaking a record he would shrug his shoulders. On a good day you might get half a smile, but he would always answer with, “Oh, I didn’t know.” Those were his exact words when asked about dropping a twenty-two point and twelve assist double-double on Christchurch Independent a month ago.

At first, us journalists thought it was arrogance or shyness we didn’t really want to speculate. What we did know though, was that the guy just didn’t give us anything to work with. Not even enough for a blurb to use during morning announcements. Being journalists we didn’t know how to respond, it was our jobs to dig and to get answers. To keep trying when we failed. With Ridley Brooks, all of us failed and miserably.

So who is Ridley? The leading scorer on a basketball team that went from dwelling in the bottom half of the district his first season, to being clear favorites to win it all this year. We asked Coach Young who he was. Coach, a whistle around his neck squared his shoulders and said without hesitation that Ridley Brooks, through all his years of coaching, had the most hustle out of anyone who put on a jersey. He had the prettiest jump shot that actually shocked him when it missed the bottom of the net. A quick learner and listener, of the four years that he played Coach Young said he never had to bench Ridley or make him run punishment drills. He never had to refocus him. He came into practice and left practice the same way, with a quiet zoned-in sort of focus.

We also asked varying teammates, Captain Ethan Reed said Ridley was so consistent that he was a machine. Reminiscing on when Ridley first tried out for the team, Ethan Reed didn’t know why a scrawny little kid with glasses would be interested in joining. He also said it took all of five minutes of his tryout for him to realize that he would be on the team. Stating that there was a sort of laser-like focus on him. To the point where you didn’t even know if he was present until you passed the ball to him and he caught it with ease and buried a three like it was nothing.

It was easy to see what Coach Young and Captain Reed were talking about. I recently gained access to old game tapes for a small project. Even though I had watched him play in person, games in the moment don’t linger in our memories. When I studied the game tapes, the focus and ease Ridley had for basketball became readily apparent. When he stepped onto the court you knew what you were getting, likely much to the dismay of our opponents for the evening. No school seemed to be able to crack the code. Ridley was a force on the court. That is what we knew.

This feature could end with that, Ridley Brooks, the uncrackable force. The quiet and unfeigned hero, for an hour and a half, until the last buzzer sounded, he was ours to cheer for. Then also by choice he fades into the background in the most unapologetic way.

Does that really explain Ridley, because Ridley on the court everyone knows. It is off the court that I, and likely our readers, were most interested in when gossip spread that he was going to be featured. Reading this now, people may even wonder who the hell I am writing about. An uncommon name for our sparsely populated town, was quickly designated a nickname. One of which we all probably thought fit him perfectly, because no one knew who he was. Riddles, of which our journalism team was told, in unwavering annoyance that he doesn’t like - so stop using it, that includes you too, faculty and staff. People should be allowed to be who they want to be and all Ridley ever wanted, still wants, is to be himself. As a high school senior, not many of us could really say that about ourselves, but through the limited conversations I’ve had with Ridley over the past couple of days, I came to realize that he knows exactly who he is.

So I will tell you what I know, since he has vehemently told me multiple times that he wasn’t going to read the feature, I think I can get away with a lot. Ridley Brooks was named after his father’s best friend James Ridley. A friendly bet between brothers in arms led to a name with so much meaning, that none of us, including me, could ever understand the weight it carried. James Ridley died along with four other soldiers out on a routine walk when a bomb rigged inside the trunk of a car exploded. Ridley’s father, who a town forgot is in a long-term care center two states away.

It was his father, Tim, who taught him how to play the game they both love. There is an old worn out basketball goal in their driveway. That no doubt bore witness to a father's cherished time, playing with his son. Those countless moments are what brought all of us to this weekend of Homecoming. I went into this feature thinking, probably like a lot of us, that Ridley, “Riddles,” Brooks didn’t fit the part of basketball star. Maybe to the point of asking the question, why him for the feature?

For me Ridley Brooks is the perfect choice. The only choice when we get down to the true spirit of homecoming. It is about the journey, the fighting spirit through the struggles, and the promises we make that see us through it all to the end. Homecoming is about the battle to return Home. Ridley made that promise to his father and when he comes home, that will be Ridley’s homecoming, but for now he will see us through ours.

“Oh fuck you, Gabe Rice,” I groaned gently closing the paper. Laying it beside me I reached over and grabbed my phone and scrolled down to his name. Freshly in my phone I scrolled past it before I realized. After hitting the green phone and seeing his name illuminated I stared down at it, my finger wanting to swipe the hang up button before he answered.

“Hello?” He said after a couple of moments. I had the phone down still staring at the screen, hearing his muted voice on the other end I rushed the phone up by my ear, not wanting to put it on speaker.

“Hi,” I said grimacing when my voice came out breathy and rushed, like I had been running instead of sitting on my bed.

“Oh, hey Ridley,” he said and I glanced up at my closed bedroom door. The questioning tone was still in his voice, but there was a slight change that I noticed and I grimaced.

“Do you want to meet me in town in a few minutes?” I asked hoping it wasn’t getting late, I hadn’t paid any attention to the clock before I called.

“Sure, I’m still cruising around town right now,” he answered and I briefly pulled my phone away from my face. Knowing there wasn’t anything to do in town past nine o’clock, ever, I wondered why the hell anyone would be there.

“Okay, at the school then,” I said and slid my finger across my phone hanging up on him. Grimacing, I stood and walked over to my closet and grabbed a pair of jeans and a school t-shirt. Then I gathered up a clean pair of socks and my sneakers and tossed everything onto the bed before I left the room and walked back down to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put on deodorant.

After I was back in my room and dressed I turned the light off and closed the door behind me. Mom wasn’t in the living room, so I walked down the other small hallway on the other side of the house just off the kitchen to their bedroom. Mom didn’t like sleeping with her bedroom door closed, so I knocked on the doorframe until she stirred and removed her sleeping mask that we always made fun of her for wearing.

“What is it, Ridley?” She asked, her voice getting more awake with each word. “Has something happened?”

“No,” I answered, feeling my face getting warm. “I’m going out to meet up with Gabe, since I don’t have to be awake early.”

“Okay hon,” she said and I watched her relax back down onto her pillow and slide her eye mask back over her eyes. “Could you text Cara and tell her that I expect her to leave whatever party she is at and be at Leah’s house, where she said she was going to be all night.”

“I will,” I offered as I pushed myself off the doorframe and walked down the hallway and through the dark living room, the only light coming from the exhaust fan light over the stove in the kitchen.

Nothing slowed me down, not the two lights between here and the school. Seeing his dark red truck already waiting I let out a long breath. My headlights would already have given me away and I was going to give Cara another thirty minutes of freedom before I texted her, but knowing Cara she would only be back at Leah’s house when she wanted to be back. As I turned down the small driveway that led to the school parking lot I didn’t stop until I was parked beside him, but before I could make up my mind about just rolling down my window or shutting off my ignition and heading to his truck, I saw his light come on and watched him slide out of his truck. I watched him walk around the front of his truck and then my car to the passenger side. I watched him grab hold of the handle and nearly fall backwards because I had forgotten to press the unlock button.

“Sorry,” I said after I hit the button and he had the door open.

“Nearly busted my ass there,” he said leaning just inside the car to look at me.

“Why the hell are you just standing there?” I asked, leaning slightly forward in my own seat. My seatbelt was still fastened and I felt it tighten on my collarbone.

“I don’t know,” he said and I watched him look through my windshield out to the empty parking lot. “You read the paper, didn’t you?”

“Just get in,” I said, shaking my head.

“No,” he said, but I saw the flash of a smirk cross his face as he turned back to me. “Not until you tell me if you’ve read the paper or not.”

“I really just came for my bag,” I offered and I heard him swear under his breath before he backed away from my car. He left my door open, but I watched him walk back across in front of the car and slide between his truck. He opened the back cab of the passenger side and grabbed my bag and quickly closed the door behind him. This time he walked around the back of my car and when he reappeared at the passenger side he handed me my bag. The game ball inside, made it fatter than it usually was so I had to shove it through the small gap between the seats.

“You’re not mad, are you?” He asked as he leaned back inside the car.

“How much more did Mom tell you that night at our house?” I asked leaning as far forward in my seat as the seatbelt allowed.

“Nothing other than what we talked about that night,” he answered, but he finally gave up on leaning and slid into the passenger seat beside me.

“There was a lot more in there than what we talked about,” I said, turning to look out the windshield at the school.

“I gave her my number and we talked,” he answered as he closed the door behind him, just hard enough for it to click and kill the light. “I knew I wasn’t going to get anything out of you.”

“And that’s why,” I said, shaking my head. “I knew you’d put it in the paper anyway.”

“Your mom told me you were living half a life,” he said, turning in the seat to look at me. “She told me about the promise you made, but I researched the bomb myself.”

“Well at least you got your story,” I countered, gripping the steering wheel harder. I didn’t think I was coming here to yell at him, not really. I didn’t know why I wanted to talk to him at all, I just didn’t want to be in the house and he was the only person I thought to call. Cara would have yelled at me and told me to come to Reed’s party if I was bored.

“No, I just told yours,” he argued and I saw his hand slide off his lap to reach for me out of the corner of my eye, but he retreated. “I wanted people to understand you.”

“I didn’t care if they never did,” I said, turning my head to look at him.

“I did,” he said, his voice falling to a whisper.

“Why the hell do you care?” I asked, relaxing my hands after they began to ache from the strain.

“You walked the halls of our school,” he started as I felt a fucking tear fall down my cheek that I didn’t even realize was about to betray my ass. “Everyone had their minds made up, they thought they knew exactly who you were.”

“I was fine with that,” I said, shaking my head. “You tore everything open and didn’t care about the damage you caused.”

“You want to know the truth?” He asked after an uneasy silence fell between us where we both stared out the windshield, he looked down at his hands still resting in his lap. I hated that I was sitting close enough to him that I could watch him out of the corner of my eye.

“Not really,” I answered, turning my head just long enough to glance in his direction. “You've told me everything I wanted anyway.”

“When I started out on this project,” he started and I remembered the first real conversation we had with Mariana in the room. He said whatever was on his mind, without reason or cause and I either accepted what he said or not. Either way I was going to hear it and he was sitting in my car, so I couldn’t fight it now. So instead I unfastened my seatbelt, not wanting to feel the confining pull of it and leaned my head back to rest on the headrest. “I didn’t look past what everyone said about you, I was ready to just stop short of asking you anything, I was only the photographer anyway. Then Mari called me for backup for the interview and sitting just down the table from you, I watched you fiddling with a paperclip. You didn’t smirk, you didn’t show us much of anything, it was like you were gone. Even when you answered Mari’s questions you were somewhere else and I didn’t know where that was, but I wanted to find out.”

“I told you the story about how I got my name,” I said, tilting my head to look at him. “I know you figured out that James was dead.”

“That’s when I saw the weight you carried,” he said and I had to look away from him again. “You never corrected me and told me that you loved basketball, you let me think you didn’t. Because that was easier for you.”

“I don’t care what people think,” I said and he nodded his head.

“You don’t care what people think, because you’re trying to live up to two legacies,” he said as he shifted in his seat beside me. “You did all of it for your Dad, because he couldn’t be here for you, and he wanted you to try. Then you did everything for James Ridley because that’s the name you were given and he was gone and you wanted him to live on somewhere, because he saved your Dad’s life.”

“Can’t you just stop?” I asked, opening my eyes when my voice cracked. “I told you not to.”

“I know,” he answered and I jumped when his hand reached across the small space between us and found my wrist resting in my lap. I felt his thumb slide across the back of it, soft and intrusive. I felt the rush of goosebumps up my arm and I wanted to move my hand away. “After we talked in your room I knew I couldn’t let you down, so I went into the media room and I found the game archives. I spent a whole night watching your games. The games gave me nothing, your Mom told me about the promise when I talked to her. Then I watched one of your games again and then I knew why they didn’t give me anything.”

“Why?” I asked, finally moving my hand out from under his.

“Because your heart was two states away and two years gone,” he answered and I felt the car shift again and when his fingertips found my chin I opened my eyes and the anger I had built was falling away. “I am sorry, for what it's worth.”

“Okay,” I said, moving my head out of his grip. He let his hand fall between us, but I felt his knuckles graze the hairs on my arm.

I didn’t know how long we sat as we were. The clock on my car said midnight, but I wasn’t sure it was the right time as I never paid attention to it. Gabe broke the silence with a sigh as he reached for the door handle and I jumped, blinking at the sudden light in the car.

“I didn’t think this would ruin our friendship,” he said and I nodded my head as he slumped his shoulders and pushed against the door until it opened wider.

“We didn’t have one to begin with,” I countered grimacing when he paused, his foot slightly lifted.

“You’re probably right,” he said, still looking out of the passenger side door. “I guess I just fooled myself into thinking we were building up to one.”

“Don’t you think it’s too late for that anyway?” I asked as he started moving again. He looked determined to get out of the car this time and I was starting to hate how I acted now that I saw him defeated and about to leave. I still wasn’t sure if this was my plan when I left my house or not. If things were different, if he had written about me like that when I didn’t have the weight of a name and a promise maybe I would have liked the words.

“No?” He answered, his voice falling to a question. “If you thought it was too late for any of that then why did you kiss me?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, falling back into my seat. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“You don’t want to talk about anything that matters,” he said, shaking his head. “Just tell me if the kiss was for me or the gift I gave you.”

“Does it matter?” I asked, feeling my face getting warm.

“It does to me,” he said and I watched him slide his foot back into the passenger side of my car. “If it was just you coming down from a high night, fine I can live with that. I need to know though.”

“I don’t know,” I answered, turning to face him. I didn’t know why I kissed him. The gift and the time he took to give it to me, the awareness of knowing it was a thought that had lingered between us for days after the conversation in my room. It was special, probably one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten and it was from someone I barely knew. Being given to me the day I heard my Dad’s voice, weak as it was, after two long years of having nothing but the memory of him in my mind. I hadn’t been thinking about wanting to kiss Gabe until my hand was balling up the collar of his shirt, even then I didn’t expect it to happen.

“Alright, fuck it,” Gabe hissed and I jumped when his hand shot out and found the back of my head. He was still half tangled up by his legs, half wanting to leave, half wanting to stay. So when he leaned to close the space between us, he ended up falling and I caught him and didn’t stop myself when I pulled him up and his lips found mine again. This time I let out a breath and closed my eyes as the urgency of his lips almost hurt my own, only softening when I moved my mouth against his.

“Okay,” I said after he broke the kiss. “I don’t think it was just the gift.”

“Good,” he said, nodding his head as he smiled and leaned back into his seat.

“That doesn’t change anything though,” I said as I turned away from him. “You told people stuff I didn’t want told.”

“I know that now,” he said and I heard him swallow then sigh. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Okay,” I offered when the overhead light came back on. I turned and watched him climb out of the passenger side of my car. When he leaned down, his hand resting above his head on the top of the car, he forced a small smile before he stepped out of the way and closed the door again. I stared down at my steering wheel as he passed through my headlights on the way to his truck and when I heard him getting into it I put the car in drive and slowly did a u-turn and left.

I didn’t want to go home, the only thing I had waiting for me was a box that reminded me that Gabe wasn’t a bad guy. Then a paper that was proof that he lied and broke the agreement of not using Dad’s story. I also didn’t want to be there when Mom left to go see Dad knowing I couldn’t go with her. I also knew she would be expecting me all tucked in and comfortably asleep in my bed.

It was hard for me to think when I had over two years of things I wanted to say to a man that couldn’t respond. Now that he could, I wanted to sit down with him and tell him all I could. I wouldn’t have much to say to him that didn’t involve basketball though and I didn’t know a lot of what I had accomplished these past two years either. Parts of the paper, although using my name, still didn’t exactly feel like it was written about me. I didn’t feel some of it like I ought to have felt, because I hadn’t allowed myself to be completely there. I wondered if Dad would notice that in my retelling; that me fumbling to remember the answer to the easy questions, that I bet every other person in school could recite on command, and I couldn’t. I didn’t know my averages on my stat sheet until Gabe had told me, laying like a stretched out cat on my bed with his full of shit grin. The points I scored against Christchurch Independent was fucking news to me.

After driving around town, even meeting Gabe’s bulky assed truck once after he got gas at the one place that stayed open all night. I finally decided that I needed to go home. It wouldn’t be long before sunrise and I had forgotten all about texting Cara, but even she had enough sense to be at Leah’s by now. After tonight, I didn’t want much to do with Gabe, the distractions he caused made things difficult. He wanted something I could never give him and when he realized that he would move on anyway. I was in the closing months of school and I would be free of it all. I could start moving on and maybe Dad would be home soon after and we could enjoy a summer again, without basketball and promises.