Beyond The Court

13. Feelings

The weight of another body pressed against mine pulls me back to reality, and my chest tightens. I'm not used to this, not anymore. It's been years since I let anyone this close, years since I allowed myself to be this vulnerable.

She's lying next to me, her head tucked just beneath my chin, her body curled into mine like she's always belonged there. Like all those nights we spent together when everything was simple, before things fell apart.

I don't move. I'm afraid to. I don't know what will happen if I do, if I'll scare her off or if I'll shatter this fragile moment. The softness of her breath against my chest stirs something inside me—a mix of emotions I haven't felt in years. Part of me still can't believe she's here, next to me, like this.

Last night feels like a blur, and yet every second of it is etched into my memory. Her call, the way she sounded on the phone, the rush of adrenaline as I sped to the school, the look in her eyes when I found her in the bathroom. And then, the way we held each other, like we hadn't drifted apart at all. Like no time had passed.

My heart's racing, but not in a way that makes me want to push her away. No, this is different. It's like... I need her here. I've always needed her. She's the only one who's ever been able to calm the storm inside me, the only person who's ever made me feel safe. But the weight of that realization sits heavy on my chest. Because even now, as much as I want this, I don't know if I deserve it. Or if I can handle it.

Kesley stirs beside me, her fingers brushing against my stomach as she shifts.

Slowly, she lifts her head, blinking against the sunlight. Her eyes find mine, and for a second, neither of us says anything. We just look at each other, like we're both trying to figure out how we ended up here.

We both fall silent again, the weight of everything between us hanging in the air. My mind's going a little nuts, cycling through all the memories, the feelings, the regrets. But more than anything, I can't shake how right this feels. How right it always felt with her.

"Last night..." Kesley starts, her voice trailing off as she looks down at her hands. She's nervous, and I can tell she's not sure how to say what she's thinking.

"Yeah," I reply, trying to ease the tension.

"It felt like old times," she says, finally meeting my eyes. "Like... I don't know. Like we hadn't missed a beat."

I nod, the lump in my throat growing. "Yeah, it did."

"But it's different now, isn't it?" she asks quietly. "I mean, we're different. Things... things have changed."

Her words hit me harder than I expect, and for a moment, I can't respond. Because she's right. Things have changed. I've changed. And no matter how much I want to pretend that we can just pick up where we left off, I know it's not that simple.

"Yeah," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "We are different."

I sit up beside her, feeling the distance between us, despite how close we are physically. My mind is racing, memories flashing back to all the times we shared, the connection we once had. But then the walls I've built up over the years start to creep back in. It's automatic now—this need to protect myself, to keep everyone at arm's length, even Kesley.

Especially Kesley.

"Izzi..." Her voice pulls me from my thoughts. She reaches out, her hand brushing against mine, a hesitant touch that sends a jolt through me. "I don't want to lose this again. Whatever this is."

Her words hang in the air, heavy with emotion, and my chest tightens. I know what she means. I feel it too. The fear of losing her again, of messing this up. But I'm not the same person I was before, and neither is she. We've both been through too much.

"I don't want to lose it either," I admit, my voice cracking. "But I don't know how to... how to do this. I'm not good at this anymore."

She gives me a sad smile, her eyes softening. "You don't have to be perfect, Izzi. Neither of us does. We just... we just have to try."

I look down at our hands, still lightly touching, and something inside me loosens. She's right. We don't have to figure everything out right now. We just have to take it one step at a time.

Before I can respond, there's a knock on the door. My mom, again. I glance at Kesley, and she nods, understanding. I get up, feeling the cool air hit me as I walk over and open the door.

"Hey," my mom says softly, her eyes flicking past me to Kesley, still sitting on the bed. "It's time to eat."

I nod. "We'll be out in a sec."

She steps inside, her gaze settling on me with a mix of surprise and concern. "You seem... different. You okay?"

I want to brush it off, but the look on her face tells me she already knows the answer. I'm not okay. Not completely. But for the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe... just maybe, I'm starting to be.

"Yeah," I say, glancing back at Kesley. "I think I'm getting there."

My mom gives me a small smile before turning to Kesley. "It's been a while, Kesley. It's good to see you."

Kesley smiles back, a little shyly. "Good to see you too."

There's a moment of awkward silence, and then my mom clears her throat. "Well, I'll see you both in a few."

She gives me one last look before slipping out of the room, leaving me and Kesley alone again. I turn to Kesley, and we exchange a glance. There's a heaviness between us still, but there's also... something lighter. Something hopeful.

"You wanna get some food?" I ask, trying to break the tension.

"Yeah," she says, standing up and smoothing out her clothes. "I could eat."

We head out to the dining room, where my parents are already sitting. They exchange a few curious glances but don't say anything. I sit down next to Kesley, the quiet between us both familiar and strange.

My mom sets a plate of pancakes in front of me, and I notice her watching, like she's waiting for something. I've gotten used to her doing that—waiting to see if I'll flinch when someone gets too close, if I'll pull away like I always do. But with Kesley, I don't. I don't need to.

We eat in silence for a while, the sounds of clinking forks and soft conversation filling the space. But even as I sit here, surrounded by my family and Kesley, there's still that nagging feeling in the back of my mind. That fear that this is temporary, that any second, it'll all come crashing down.

But when Kesley's knee brushes against mine under the table, when her eyes meet mine and I see that quiet understanding there, I feel it. That bond we've always had, that thing that's always connected us, it's still there. Maybe even stronger than before.