When Our Worlds Collide (12 page)

Chapter Twenty

-Graham-

I don’t know where to go. Where do you go with a girl you
barely know? Somehow we still managed to form a connection through all the
misfortune. It may not make any sense, but there’s a connection there
somewhere.

I drove around for a while. I don’t think either Kennedy or
I knew where I was headed until we pulled into her driveway. I knew taking her
to my house was out of the question. My dad would be in his usual drunken
stupor by now. He just got back from a business trip earlier today. He’d be
stressed. When he’s stressed he tends to nurse the bottle a little too hard.

“We’re going back to my place?” Kennedy asks looking out the
window with a scared gleam in her eye.

“Is it okay? It’s just…I don’t really want to go back home
just yet,” I explain. She nods nervously. I run over to her side of the car to
help her with her crutches.

“These things are so uncomfortable.” Kennedy says to herself
as she heads towards her front door putting the key in the front door swinging
the steel slab open.

“I’ll show you a trick,” I gesture towards the kitchen as I
follow behind her. “I’ll just need two dish clothes and duct tape.” She pulls
open a drawer full of different towels. I bend down to grab a few. As I turn
around I almost think I catch Kennedy ogling my ass.

“Duct tape should be in the side drawer over there.” Kennedy
motions to a long drawer beside the refrigerator quickly turning around towards
the island with a blush on her cheeks from being caught. There is a small urge
to call her out on it. 

Kennedy jumps up on one of the kitchen stools at the
breakfast bar as I work on wrapping the crutch with the dish towels securing the
fabric with the tape.

“Here, try these out now,” I hand the crutches into Kennedy.
She’s eager to take them from me. After a lap around the kitchen table she
turns towards me with a smile on her face.

“Oh my gosh,” she praises me while she continues to walk.
“How did you know to do that?”

“I’m a boy and I used to be a little boy who thought he was
Batman. I had plenty of time to master the use of crutches.” I admire her still
walking around with much better ease.

“Thank you, this is going to make my life much easier.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Once the words are out of my
mouth I instantly regret them. That’s the funny thing about words, once they
come out there’s no way to put them back in. Kennedy catches on to what I am
insinuating and moves past me heading straight to her bedroom without saying
another word to me.

I remember the first time I came here, we spent the whole
night in there and I managed to apologize more than I ever thought was
possible. The look on her face just then reminded me of that night. I am
starting to think that she doesn’t want my apologies. Every time I make an
attempt at one she goes surly and gets frustrated.

I find Kennedy’s room empty. Her bathroom door is tightly
closed shut leaving only a stream of light to escape at the bottom. I suddenly
feel uncomfortable, out of place standing in her bedroom. Trying to be
Kennedy’s friend is becoming impossible. I am starting to think that’s the
whole point.

“You know you can take off your shoes and get comfortable,
right?” Kennedy walks out wearing a pair of sweatpants that have PINK written
across the butt and a tank top. She has this amazing body. She’s thin with just
enough of that curve to peek your interest. You can’t blame me for looking.
It’s impossible not to at least sneak a quick peak.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted me to stay after the way you
stormed off on me out there,” I say pretending to be offended with how she
reacted. She looks up at me as she bends down to grab a bottle of lotion from
her bedside table. She squeezes the bottle releasing a small amount into her
hand. I’m transfixed as she rubs the lotion into her palms and up her arms. I
can smell the coconut scent from where I’m standing across the room.

Kennedy thinks about what I say before sitting on her bed
and patting the spot next to her encouraging me to sit down, “Sorry about that.
It’s just…”

“It’s just what?” I sit down turning to look her in the
eyes.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“You haven’t held back this far,” I stifle my laughter.

Kennedy shifts her body closer to mine. Not knowing if it’s
intentional or not, I choose not to move. Her leg brushes against mine and as
she turns to look at me I can’t stop from noticing how close we are. I’d just
need to lean forward an inch or two to connect my lips with hers.

“I shouldn’t like you, but…” she trails off focusing on
spinning the plain silver band that sits around her right ring finger. Her long
hair is falling across her face blocking my view of her. Instinctively I brush
the strand behind her ear giving her no choice but to look over at me from the
contact. She swallows hard enough to make it obvious. “Everything in my head
tells me to run the opposite direction of you, but I can’t help but believe
that what I said was true. I think there’s more to you then you let on.”

“You should, you know? Run the opposite direction of me. I’m
not a good person. I’m not someone you should waste your time on,” I plead with
her knowing very well that I hope she won’t listen to me in the end. She tries
to protest me. I interrupt her before she can say anything. “Kennedy, stop
making excuses for me. I ran you over with my car. I was too drunk and too
stupid to think anything bad could happen. Now you’re here saying these things
when in reality I am the guy that everyone knows me to be. There’s nothing more
and nothing less to me. I’m not the guy you think I am.”

Kennedy stands up from the bed directly in front of me with
both of her hands on her hips. “Okay, if that’s true then why are you here?”
she protests me again.

I run my hand over my face and down my neck looking up at
her. Kennedy takes another step closer to me. She’s still too close to me
standing directly in between my parted legs that are sticking straight up from
the bed. “What do you mean?” I ask in attempt to stall.

“What I mean is, if you are this jackass that you claim to
be then why are you here with me now? Why do you keep trying to talk to me? Why
did you pull me away from your friend Craig to talk? And don’t think I didn’t
notice you stifling on the other side of the booth tonight when Craig rubbed up
on my thigh. I saw you, so I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?”

Kennedy’s breaths are shallow as I watch every intake and
every release she gives. Distracting it may be, but it was proof that she was
alive, that I hadn’t killed her that night. It means that she’s still capable
of surprising me with her confidence. Kennedy called me out on being jealous
just now. Did anyone miss that?

“You’re too good for any of us, Kennedy,” I stand up to face
her. I feel vulnerable looking up towards her.  “Is that what you wanted to
hear me say? I don’t like the way they look at you because I know the type of
guys they are. The reason why I am here is because…”

“Because…” Kennedy’s much shorter than me making her have to
look up at me through her thick black eye lashes. I’m dumbfounded into silence
by her confidence when she throws her hands onto her hips in frustration.

“Because that night when you danced, the night I ran you
over, you captivated me, okay? You looked vulnerable. I was in awe and trust me
I know how corny that sounds especially coming from someone like me, but I
wondered if someone would ever allow me to be that vulnerable in front of them.
You seemed to leave everything out on that stage and I was jealous of you
because sometimes I feel like I am just putting on an act,” I explain feeling a
mixture of anger and fascination for how I’m feeling. “When I saw you lying on
the road that night my heart sank into my stomach. I was scared that I would
never be able to know that girl who danced on that stage as if her life
depended on it. I know I haven’t earned the right to get to know you, but I’d
like to.”

Kennedy still stands trying to keep her balance in front of
me. She licks her bottom lip distracting me. Her eyes are glossy. She’s
fighting back her tears. I don’t like that I made those tears a reality. “Do
you mean all of that? Everything that you just said…is all that true?” she asks
with a slight smile making me think otherwise on if her crying is in fact a
good thing instead of a bad thing.

“Painfully…yes.”

Her arms fly up to the air in frustration. “That’s what I
mean. You claim to be this guy who treats girls like crap and doesn’t care
about anyone but yourself, but here you are willing to stand in front of me and
say those types of things. I think you’re exactly who I think you are, I’m just
afraid you’ll never see yourself the way I see you,” Kennedy professes. Her
head came towards mine slightly and I wanted to kiss her in that moment, but
knew that it would just complicate things.

“So where does that leave us?” I ask not knowing what she
wants to do.

“Help me to the bed.”

“You move quick Kennedy. I don’t know if I can keep up with
you.” She smacks me across the chest and at the immediate contact I reach out for
her, grabbing her waist. A shiver runs over her body as I help ease her down
onto the bed.

“Very funny, but I think we both know I’m not that type of
girl.” Kennedy stretches her legs out across her bed looking over to me as I
stand where she had left me.

“What are you doing with Craig then?” I ask hoping she won’t
tell me any of the sordid details. I can admit it…now. It makes me extremely
jealous that she has even giving him a second of her time.

“What are you doing with Amanda?” Kennedy looks at me in
question. I don’t have the right to ask about her personal life. She’s putting
me in my place.

“Touché, but word got around that you slept in his room.
That only means one thing to them. I figured I’d get the truth from you and not
listen to what everyone else was saying. I’m learning that rumors are never
true.”

“You heard I slept in his room?” Kennedy looks defeated.
She’s embarrassed. She keeps focus on her hands and not on me.

“He’s a guy. News travels fast,” I kick off my shoes and sit
at the end of the bed with my back against the wall. Our feet brush against
each other’s accidentally. Neither of us makes an attempt to move away from
each other’s touch as minor as the gesture is.

“The real story is that I had drank too much to leave and
Violet was with Dan. Craig claimed that he didn’t feel comfortable leaving me
downstairs with the other guys, so he brought me up to his room. I know it
sounds naïve of me, but I think he meant well,” she explains the night as she
remembers. “Apparently we kissed, but nothing else happened.” I let out a loud
exasperated sigh at her ignorance. “You don’t believe me?” Kennedy openly
pouts.

“Oh no babe, I believe you. I don’t believe Craig didn’t try
anything else,” I watch as her expression changes from disbelief to acknowledgement.
Did I really just call her babe? Maybe she didn’t notice.

“I don’t know how he is with other girls, but I can assure
you that he was a gentleman,” she looked around the room trying to distract
herself. I nodded in response and Kennedy changed the subject. “I don’t think
you came here to talk about Craig. Tell me something, anything.”

“What do you want to know?” I smile at her question as she
watches me patiently. I’m not the easiest person to talk to. She’s about to
find that out.

“Tell me about your family,” Kennedy suggests innocently. I
freeze immediately. Now I am the one avoiding all eye contact. I sit up moving
off of the bed.

“Anything else, but that,” I look back at her. I can see the
concern etched across her face.

I’m being too obvious.

Chapter Twenty-One

-Kennedy-

Graham’s pacing around my bedroom looking at everything that
comes into his focus except for me. Now I know how he must feel when I avoid
his eye line at all cost. He’s blatantly avoiding my part of the room for a reason.
I just don’t know what it is. Watching him pick up different picture frames
scanning his eyes over the photos of my family, and of me and Violet I wonder
how bad it would have to be for him to feel the need to hide it. He places them
all down in their rightful spot. It’s when he turns his attention to me that
I’m scared for him. His eyes seem empty.

Graham seems to be your typical all-American boy who lives a
life of perfection. He’s gorgeous and talented. He comes from a respected
family in the community. His family’s wealthy beyond comprehension. Something
about that makes him appear to be untouchable to everything, as if the rest of
our everyday worries aren’t capable of touching him. He’s invincible.

“Are you okay?” I ask him worried by the look in his eyes.
He has a story hidden behind the perfect shade of brown that makes me want to
know everything he’s willing to divulge to me.

“Out of everything you could have asked me you brought up my
family,” he shook his head as if he’s trying to erase a horrible nightmare, as
if the thought of even bringing up his family tore a gaping hole in his perfect
world.

“You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to.
I just assumed it was an easy enough question.”

“There’s nothing easy about my family, Ken.” A pained smile
crosses his face before he continues. “I want to be that guy that you think I
am and be able to explain these things to you, but I don’t know how. My family
is complicated and it’s a subject I’d like to avoid if that’s okay. I don’t talk
to anyone about them.”

I reach out my hand and he comes across the room meeting me.
He grabs ahold of my outstretched hand sitting down on the edge of the bed
directly next to me. I don’t release my light grip. He doesn’t seem to mind,
but continues to look at our linked fingers. It was foreign for the both of us.

“Graham, look at me,” I request. He listens peering up at
me. “Don’t feel obligated to tell me anything. I only want to know the things
you want me to know. I’ll take what I can get.”

“I want to be honest with you.” Graham’s voice is low as if
someone would overhear our conversation. He begins rubbing small circles on my
finger with his thumb. The feeling of his skin against my skin sends shivers
through my body causing my breath to deepen. No one’s ever touched me like
that, as innocent as it seems.

“I appreciate that and if you want us to be friends then I
don’t expect anything less from you. That doesn’t mean that it has to happen
tonight. You don’t need to talk to me about them.”

Graham stands forcing the release of our hold on each other.
I feel something missing immediately once his warmth is gone. “I think I better
get going. It’s already a quarter to midnight,” he says. I walk him out of my
room through the darkened house. I don’t want him to leave, but I know he needs
something and being around me isn’t it. We don’t say anything to each other
when he walks out of my front door. I want to call out to him. Something stops
me.

Knowing what to say to him is the most difficult. He froze
up when I asked about his family. There’s a pit in my stomach as I think about
our conversation tonight. I try everything to push this horrible feeling away.
I lock the door and head for my room thinking about how upset Graham had gotten
over something that seems trivial to most.

The house seems emptier now with Graham being gone. Staying
in the house without my parents now feels strange. The only other time they
have left me alone is when my brother was still living here. They went away for
the weekend and the entire time I hung out working on a history paper while my
brother hooked up with his girlfriend in my parent’s bed. There was no surprise
when they trusted me to be here alone this week. I’ve never gotten into any
real trouble before.

I scan my massive movie collection that is lined up on my
larger bookshelf searching for something to watch. I intend on watching a
raunchy comedy after the odd conversation I had with Graham. I know falling
asleep would end up being a chore tonight. It’s a toss-up, but I ended up
throwing in The Hangover. Before climbing into bed I rip off my sweatpants and
throw on a pair of shorts.

I doze off just as they are waking up from their night of
mayhem. I am woken up by a tapping on my window. Naturally, panic sets in.
Goosebumps rise up to greet me as I hover under the blankets. In my twisted
morbid head I assume someone is going to break in and murder me. That makes
sense right? Of course a real murderer would knock on your window before
punching out the glass. I need to stop watching Criminal Minds with my dad. I’m
too jittery to handle shows like that.

I drop the blankets from around my head wondering if I
imagined the noise.
Tap tap tap.
That was definitely a tap on my window.
I didn’t hear it again as I sit as still as possible on my bed. I could have
easily been dreaming. I realize I wasn’t when I hear the doorbell ring. I jump
instantly at the sound that rings throughout the house making its way down the
hallway into my bedroom. I grab my crutches making my slow walk to the front
entryway. Maybe it’s Mrs. Garrison from next door. She is always panicked about
something, coming over to ask my dad to check around her property. I flip on
the front porch light and see Graham kicking at the welcome mat staring at his
feet. The top of his dark down hair is illuminated from the porch lamp. That is
all I could see through the small window from where I am hiding behind the
door. 

I swing the door open afraid of what is waiting for me on
the other side. “What are you doing here, Graham?” I ask with obvious fear in
my voice. His eyes are trained on his feet refusing to look up at me as I
speak.

“I…ugh…” Graham looks up at me finally. Now I see a tiny
glimpse into why he’s avoiding making any sort of eye contact. “I didn’t know
where else to go, so I got in my car and ended up here. I shouldn’t have come
here. I’m sorry.” He goes to turn away. I reach out to him pulling his body in
the house directing him over to the living room couches. He sits down on the
love seat facing forward staring at the wall that holds a cluster of our family
photos. I throw my crutches on the floor beside the couch deciding to slump
down next to him before turning the side table lamp on.

“Graham, please look at me.” I whisper. My body naturally
leans forward in encouragement trying to get a better look at him.

“I’m so embarrassed. Coming here wasn’t a good idea, but I
didn’t know where else to go. No one knows about this.” He looks up at me and
that’s when I get to see what he’s embarrassed about. A huge bruise covers his
right eye and cascades down his cheek. I reach up and brush my fingers along
the purple edges. Graham doesn’t back away from my touch making me feel at ease
when making such a subtle contact with him. He only winces at the initial
touch.

“Tell me what happened” I shift around to face him and grab
his hand. I can’t tell you why I did it, it just seemed natural and the right
thing to do. That part scares me, how at ease I feel around Graham who is
practically a stranger. The look on Graham’s face as he turns to face me is
gut-wrenching. He looks out of place. I could live a lifetime never seeing that
look in his eyes again. They’re empty, void of any emotion. The life is fading
out of them right in front of me and all I want to do is bring the familiar
sparkle back that I first saw freshman year.

“My father is what happened.” He turns away from me trying
to hide a tear that falls down his cheek. I know he doesn’t want me to see, but
it’s too late for keeping secrets. My heart is breaking into a million pieces
as I watch his hands shaking. I’m not sure what I can do to help. I keep ahold
of his right hand as he lifts up his left to wipe away the unwanted tears. We
sit on my parent’s couch for what feels like an hour without saying anything.
Graham avoids looking at me. I feel content sitting with him in silent. Words
aren’t necessary between us. I don’t know when that happened, but just being
next to him makes me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. I think that’s
what he needs, a little silence and understanding.

Outside the window I can see the stars shining bright in the
sky. It’s late. I stand up from the couch keeping a tight hold on his hand
pulling him to stand up along with me. He glances sideways through his
eyelashes with confusion, but obeys my silent command. I hobble on my one good
leg grabbing my crutches and guiding Graham back to my bedroom.

“What are you doing?” Graham’s voice is horse from not
speaking, a lump clearly forming in his throat.

I pull back the covers on my bed. “I don’t know about you,
but I’m going to bed. Get in,” I demand with confidence.

“Excuse me?” Graham lets out a small laugh in confusion.

“Do you need sweatpants or something? I’m sure my brother
left some behind.” I watch as his expression changes with his realization.

“I can sleep in my clothes.” Graham kicks off his shoes and
pulls off his jacket keeping his confused stare on me the entire time. I watch
his eyes take me in, getting wider as they reach my bare legs. I forgot I
changed out of my sweats.

To show that I’m being serious, I smile up at him. “Do you
usually sleep in your clothes?” He shakes his head. “Okay then what do you
sleep in?” My eyes burn into him waiting for an answer.

“Boxer briefs,” he flashes a mischievous grin almost
challenging me to feel uncomfortable.

“Okay then,” I climb into bed and turn off the bedside
light. “Go for it. My bathroom is right through that door and if you want to
brush your teeth I’m sure there’s an extra one in the drawer.” My room falls
silent. I can feel Graham standing in the same spot.

“You want me to stay here…with you, in your bed?” I can hear
his smile through his words as he speaks.

What’s my answer? I don’t know how to answer his question.
Do I want him to stay with me or was it because of what his dad did to him?
That’s a loaded question that I’m not ready to explore just yet. “You can stay
with me if you want to Graham. You are more than welcome here with me.” That
part is at least the truth.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Graham offers sweetly.

“If I asked you to sleep on the couch you would with no
complaint?” I ask already knowing the answer.

“Of course I would. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“There’s that guy I keep telling you about,” I smile at him
even with it being too dark for him to actually see. “Go brush your teeth and
come to bed. It’s late.”

I see the light flick on in my bathroom and hear a few
drawers on my vanity opening and closing. The water ran for a little while then
shortly turned off. Graham flicks off the light closing the door behind him. I
have never had a boy spend the night in my bed. Now I am feeling nervous. Maybe
this is a mistake.

I feel Graham before I hear him. His hand presses down on
the mattress directly next to my chest and before I can control my breathing
he’s above me. I’m sure the movements faster than it seems in my twisted head.
His breath is hitting against my neck as he maneuvers his body over mine.
Graham’s leg brushes against mine as he slides in next to me. Just like before,
I don’t shy away from his touch.

“Kennedy?” Graham whispers. I turn to face him even though I
can’t see him. This causes my leg to jet up in between his again.

“Yeah,” I whisper still trying to control my breathing. He
makes me nervous. I feel myself wanting to get closer to him. It’s not a
feeling I am prepared for. I take the chance to defy all my reasoning reaching
up to brush my hand across his now perfectly bruised face.

Graham lets out a sigh as my hand moves down his face to his
jawline. A shiver runs through his body. I have just as much as an effect on
him as he has on me. “Thank you for not asking me any questions. I’m just not
ready to talk about it,” his voice is low, nearly a whisper.

“You’re fine. Just get some sleep.” I refuse to turn away
from him. Not sure as to what time it is, I’m having trouble falling asleep.
Being worried about the boy lying next to me in my bed should have been
exhausting, but I find myself listening to him breath waiting for a hint that
he had let exhaustion succumb him.

I turned over and face my clock to see that it’s already
three in the morning. My alarm will be going off in a couple of hours. I’m not
prepared to face the daylight. I carefully shimmy my body away from Graham’s.
In response his arm wraps around my waist and pulls me even closer putting my
back directly against his bare chest. His hand reaches up grabbing my only hand
available and squeezes it tightly into his own.

Thinking he’s asleep I make another attempt to move inch by
inch away from Graham. As I do so he strengthens his hold around my waist
pulling me back against his chest once again.

“Get some sleep Kennedy. Try not to think too hard. I can
hear the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours,” he whispers into my ear.
He’s close enough that I can feel his deep breaths against my neck through my
hair. A shock spreads through my body at the comfort I feel in his arms.

I never do fall asleep. I know he had though. Graham is
right, the wheels turned all night until the morning. The sunrise broke through
my sheer curtains. Trying to move as little as possible in fear of waking a
sleeping Graham was nearly impossible. His arm drapes over my waist still. I
roll over to face him as slowly as humanly possible. Secretly I’m trying to
admire him while he’s still in his deep slumber. His eyes shoot open the minute
I adjust under his grasp.