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Authors: MK Schiller

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for myself like I always did. My dad would be proud no matter what happened.

That was just what I did. I played for me. It also helped that she was at every game, cheering me

on next to Momma and Mandy. It was exactly what I needed for a confidence boost, but I was a little

too cocky to admit all that. I think she knew just the same.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get in trouble.”

“Principal Sherman said he’s not even going to tell Momma. Nate’s parents won’t either.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “I’m the kid who lost his dad. I’m getting a lot of free passes these days. Everyone

thinks I’m just acting out.”

“Is that why you hit him? Did he say something about your dad?”

I got quiet, not sure if I should tell her. I readjusted our backpacks, one on each shoulder. She

reached out for hers, but I took a step back. I always carried her backpack when we walked home

together. Today was no different. “No, we just had a disagreement,” I replied, hoping it was enough

to stop her interrogation. It wasn’t.

“What kind of disagreement would cause you to pummel another kid like that? You could have

gotten hurt. You risked injuring yourself before the championship game. What the hell was worth all

that?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, staring me up and down, as if she could find the truth by studying

my body language. Hell, she probably could. “He said something about me, didn’t he?”

Bingo. “It’s not a big deal.”

“What did he say, Tex? Spit it out and don’t lie.” She stood on her tippy toes as if trying to

intimidate me. It was funny because she only came up to my chest either way. She jabbed her fingers

into me as she asked every question. “Did he say I was a freak? Did he say I was a retarded mute?

Did he say I was a psycho anorexic? I’ve heard them all and they don’t bother me. They shouldn’t

bother you either.”

I grabbed her shoulders and brought her face close to mine. “They fucking bother the hell out of

me.” Her eyes widened and her breath quickened. I let go, realizing I was probably scaring her. “But

that’s not what he said.”

“Then what?”

I sighed, knowing she’d keep asking until I relinquished the information. “He said you had nice

tits and a fine ass.”

To my annoyance, she started laughing. “Hell, Tex, that’s kind of a compliment.”

“Not to me. He can’t check you out like that.” I was getting pissed. Not at her. She couldn’t help

it that she was hot. She had started wearing regular clothes and doing away with the powder crap.

She was wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt. She wasn’t trying to be appealing, and the clothes were

still loose on her, but her beauty was apparent. How could it not show through with those long, silky

curls that made a man’s hand twitch with desire to run his fingers through them? That perfect creamy

complexion that looked like the sun had blessed her with a perfect tan. Those pouty kissable lips with

the bottom one slightly plumper than the top, jutting out so invitingly. Guys noticed and I didn’t like it

one bit. I’d always known she was beautiful, but that was a fact I really wanted to keep to myself.

“Why not?”

Was she trying to piss me off? The thing that really sucked about it was that we weren’t together

in that way. Since I’d kissed her last year, we hadn’t done anything else. Well…except sleep together.

Not sexually, but ever since my father had died, I’d found it difficult to fall asleep alone. She needed

me too. I didn’t know if there was a limit to the number of nightmares someone could have, but this

girl was surely exceeding a quota.

I’d sneak over to her house at night and we’d fall asleep talking. We didn’t do anything except

sleep, although on more than one occasion I’d woken up with a serious boner. She’d just laugh and

push me away. I practically ran away from her when that happened. It was weird, because I’d gone

out with other girls in the last year. Nothing serious. Truthfully, I was just waiting for her to give me a

sign, a signal that she wanted me, but she seemed to be taking her damn sweet time. She didn’t even

seem jealous, which was weird, because I knew she had feelings for me. Yet I couldn’t even stand the

idea of Nate making comments about Sylvie’s body, let alone looking at her.

“It’s degrading to you,” I stammered.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward me, “It bothers the hell out of me.”

“Don’t get yourself in trouble for me again. I mean it.”

“I can do whatever I want, Sylvie.”

“No, you can’t. Not if you care about me…please.”

“Why?”

“Because, I’ll never forgive myself if you get hurt.”

“I can take on Nate or any other guy that I need to. I won’t let anyone talk about you like that.”

“There are a lot tougher people than Nate Mitchell in the world.” Her voice sounded weary and

tired all of a sudden and I wondered what she was talking about…certainly not our world.

“I swear you are the weirdest girl, you know that?” I said, making a sad attempt at humor.

She smiled, “Yeah, I know. Come on,” she said, taking my hand. “I want to clean you up before

your momma sees your face and has a heart attack.”

We walked into her house. It was dark as it always was. Her father was snoring on the couch

with an empty Glenlivet bottle on the table. It wasn’t unusual. She stared at me, placing her fingers to

her lips to secure my silence, which was ridiculous. The man was so far gone he didn’t know even

know what day of the week it was. She pointed to her room. I started walking toward it, but I stopped,

staring at her as she approached her dad.

“Daddy,” she said, gently shaking his shoulders. “Daddy, did you eat today?”

“What?” he replied, groggily.

“Did you eat?”

“No, I’ll get something later.”

She bit her lower lip. “Did Uncle Joe call today?”

Uncle Joe?
Sylvie never talked about any other relatives besides her dad.

“No.”

“Do you want me to fix you a sandwich?”

“Leave me alone, Gabby. Let me sleep.”
Gabby?

“Okay, but I’ll fix you a sandwich later and you need to eat it. There’s some leftover pasta too

that Mrs Tanner made for you if you want that.”

“What part of leave me alone did you not understand?” he said through gritted teeth, shoving her

away from him. My fists clenched, and I had a strong desire to knock those teeth right out of his

mouth, but I knew Sylvie would never talk to me again if I did that.

“Sorry,” she said, standing up. Our eyes locked. A crimson blush spread across her cheeks. She

was embarrassed I’d witnessed her private exchange. I should have felt guilty about it too, but my

anger superseded any other feelings. How could he talk to her like that? She was just being kind to

him. He didn’t deserve her.

We walked into her room in silence. I knew Mr Cranston wouldn’t say anything even if he was

sober. He didn’t acknowledge Sylvie in any way. My daddy would have had choice words for Mandy

if she had wanted to take a boy into her room, but Mr Cranston was completely ambivalent.

I headed to the record player I’d given her last Christmas. She loved it so much you’d think I’d

given her a diamond ring. I found the record I was looking for and put the needle against it. America’s

Sister Golden Hair
played softly. I wondered if I played enough of these songs for her if she’d finally

get the hint. Sylvie approached me with the first-aid kit she’d fetched from the bathroom. I sat on her

bed.

“Why did he call you Gabby?”

She concentrated on taking out the needed supplies to fix the small cut at my temple, the one

place where Nate’s fist had connected with my face. “He’s just confused,” she said, rubbing with

gauze soaked in disinfectant.

“Shit, that hurts.”

“Good,” she replied. “It serves you right for getting into a fight.”

“Do you get off on my pain or something?”

She laughed, placing a bandage on my wound. “I finished the book by the way.” Sylvie and I had

our own private book club. Whenever I bought a book, I’d lend it to her afterwards or vice versa. She

was the only person my age who loved to read as much as me.

“Did you like it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Why not? It’s a classic.”

She sat on the bed next to me. “I don’t think Steinbeck liked women very much.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, there was only one female character. She wasn’t very likable, and he didn’t even give her

a name. He called her Curly’s wife, for God’s sake, throughout the whole book.”

“Not every single character needs a name.”

“I think you’re wrong, Tex. Everyone needs a name. It’s a right, not a privilege.”

“I think you’re reading too much into it. It wasn’t intentional, I’m sure.”

She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “How could you say that? I mean think about it.

Sometimes a name is the only thing you own. For instance, I’d hate it if people started calling me

Cal’s nutty neighbor or Cal’s crazy friend.” She looked so damn beautiful when she was aggravated. I

grabbed her waist and pulled her onto my lap.

“What about Cal’s hot girlfriend? Would you be okay with that title?” I whispered against her

ear.

She stood up, pushing my hand away. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Shit, why not? Is there something wrong with me? I recall you mentioning that I was perfection

so I just don’t get it.”

“Yeah, and you let it go straight to that big head of yours,” she replied sarcastically.

I smirked. “Girl, stop acting hard to get.” I patted my chest, knowing full well she’d been

checking out my abs at the pool yesterday. “You know you want this.”

“I know vanity is a sin,” she said, crossing her arms and fighting a smile.

“Seriously, Sylvie, why not? You have to know how I feel about you. Don’t you feel the same?”

“I care about you, Tex. It’s not you. I told you, my dad won’t let me date.”

I laughed cynically. “Your dad? You mean the man who’s so drunk he can’t even remember your

name? That guy?”

She clenched her fists, and I winced, knowing I’d majorly fucked up this conversation. “You

need to leave.” She hated it when I brought up her dad’s drinking. Instead of agreeing with me on any

level, she made excuses for the guy.

“Sylvie—”

“Leave!” she choked, pointing at the window, my usual exit.

I stood up, but instead of leaving, I pulled her close to me and hugged her. I whispered in her

ear, “I’m sorry, don’t get mad at me. You know I can’t stand it when you’re pissed off at me. Just talk

to me, please.”

“I was talking. You weren’t listening.”

“You know me. You know I don’t want to just sleep with you.”

“We sleep together every night.” I could feel her tightly coiled muscles loosening in my arms as

she retuned my hug. I was chipping away at her irritation.

“Funny, smartass, you know what I mean. We don’t have to have sex until you’re ready. I’ll

never push you. Hell, we’ve only kissed twice. Turtles probably get to second base faster than I am,

but I don’t care about that. I don’t want you to be my girlfriend for that reason.”

“Why then?”

“I want all the guys at school to know you’re off limits. That they can’t talk about you, or look at

you, or worse, fantasize about you.”

She laughed. “You’re too much, Tex. When did you get so possessive?”

“I’ve always been. You just never noticed.”

“I have no interest in anyone else, but I can’t be your girlfriend. Will you settle for being my best

friend in the whole world? Don’t stop being my friend…please.”

I released her and placed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sylvie, I would kick all the Nate

Mitchells of this world to China before I stopped being your friend.”

* * * *

I snuck into her room that night, later than usual because I had gone to a party with some friends.

She was tossing in bed, crying and shaking through her nightmare. I felt guilty for not getting here

sooner as I gently rubbed her back to wake her.

“Cal?” she asked, feeling around for me.

I took her hand and placed it on my chest. “Shhh, you were having a nightmare.”

“Oh, did I wake you?”

“No, I just got here. I was at the party.”

She settled back over at her side. I snuggled next to her. She often told me that my presence

usually kept the nightmares away, but she still had them even when I was here. I worried about it. It

didn’t seem natural for someone our age to have so many nightmares. We were quiet for a long time,

and I thought she had fallen asleep.

“Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“It would have been better if you were there. Why don’t you ever come out?”

“You know I’m shy.”

There was nothing shy about Sylvie…at least not to me. “You know I wouldn’t leave you

without anyone to talk to.”

“I know. You’re a good friend.” There was that word again, ‘friend’. “It’s just not for me.”

I sighed, deciding to drop it. We’d had this conversation umpteen times and it always ended the

same. Besides there was something else I needed to tell her. “I have a few overnight games coming

up, and football camp this summer.”

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