Lessons Learned

Part 11

While Niall ran about the yard collecting the ball, I stared at my hand as if I had never seen it before. The way his fingers had fit with mine had seemed so natural that it felt like I was missing a vital part of myself now that they were gone.

"Heads up Belly!" I looked up just in time to see the soccer ball flying at my face.

"Ahhh!" I ducked and the ball whizzed by just over my head.

Niall's laugh rang out through the backyard and I felt a smile spreading across my face. His joy was contagious.

"You should have seen your face when you saw the ball coming," he giggled as he ran over to me. "You looked so scared."

I just shrugged. I wasn't going to pretend I was any good at sports. Niall gathered up the ball and brought it over to me.

"Looks like we need to start with basics," he placed the ball at my feet. "That is a football."

I shook my head violently, my blonde hair slapping my face. "Soccer ball." I used my hands to shape an oblong oval in the air. Niall cocked his head as he watched me. "A football looks like that."

He laughed, "No."

"Yes," I insisted. I am ashamed to say I stomped my foot like a petty child.

Niall balled his hands into fist and put them on his slim hips, making an angry pouty face and glaring at me. He stomped his feet a few times, mocking my mini-tantrum. "No a football is round."

I stuck my tongue out at him to keep from smiling. I knew it wasn't safe to let people think they had control of your emotions. Niall could never know that he made me happy.

He tapped the ball towards me, "Now kick it."

I meekly stabbed at it. It dribbled back to Niall, who was standing mere feet away. He sent it rolling back. "Kick it good."

I tried again but it didn't go much further. Niall gathered it and sent it flying back to me. Then he walked over and stood behind me, placing his delicate hands on my hips. His head rested on my shoulder and my heart felt like it was about to take off on a joy ride. His breath brushed seductively against my ear as he whispered tips to me.

"Draw your leg back like this," he twisted my hips to angle my foot towards the ball. "And tap it with the side of your foot. But give it a good stab."

"I'll kick you," I murmured. I was surprised my voice still worked. I was barely breathing.

His hands removed themselves from my hips and he stepped back. "Better?"

No it was worse. Much worse. His touch did things to me that I never thought possible. He made me feel like I wasn't worthless. No one had ever made me think that before.

I just nodded silently and looked down at the ball. Suddenly Niall's hands were back on me, this time on my shoulders as he leaned in to whisper one final piece of advice in my ear. "Pretend the ball is everyone who has ever hurt you, everyone who has ever made you believe you weren't good enough. Kick the shit out of them."

That I could do. Niall backed off and I let the faces of everyone who had ever made me feel worthless decorate the black and white checkered ball. My uncle, my older sister, the boys who raped me, random kids who jeered and laughed at me in the hallways, people on the streets who tutted over my weight, my so called best friend, everyone who had ever caused another slice on my arm.

I drew back my foot and connected squarely with my uncle's sneering mug. The kick made a satisfyingly loud pop as it shot across the yard and slammed into the fence.