And When He Is Here // hayes grier

Chapter 16

↠Bradie

I haven't picked up Dylan's notebook sense that Monday. It's Thursday now and I have a game today. My coach told me that I was starting too. The guys' games are Wednesdays and Fridays.

On game days the team has to dress up.

Joy.

I swung my legs over onto the cold wooden floor and pushed myself up onto my feet. I stepped into my closet and decided on a skater skirt I got when I went shopping with Dyl before school. I've never worn it before. The tags were still on it. I ripped them off and threw the skirt into my bed. I looked for a shirt to wear. The skirt was tribal so I needed a plain color for the shirt. After a few minutes of looking and trying things on I decided to wear a coral blue tight short sleeve crop top. Sense skater skirts or meant to be pulled up high, you wouldn't be about to see my stomach.

I changed into that, and must I say it looked cute. I was going to wear the converse I always wear, my black on black high tops. My hair was going to be left natural so I just washed my face and did my makeup. I grabbed my backpack and lacrosse bag and headed down stairs. Ryan was already down stairs. It was weird because I'm always down here first.

"Uh- hey what are you doing down here?" I asked him

"Eating." He said flatly. Almost like he was annoyed.

"I can see that." I spat back at him. "But I'm always down here first. How come you're down here already?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"How come?" I sat next to him and grabbed a banana that was in the middle of the counter.

"Are you done with questions yet?!" he raised his voice with annoyance.

"I just wanted to know why you couldn't sleep..."

"Mom and dad were fighting..." He said softly. Ry's room was closer to my mom and dads than mine was. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach.

"What?" my voice was cracked and week.

"He's going back." Ry took another bite of his cereal. Not looking at me.

I felt my eyes stinging telling me I was about cry. A lump formed in my throat. Those are 3 words I never wanted to hear. And there they were.

"Dads going back." He repeated. I thought he was home for good. That's what he told us. That's what he promised. I got so angry. I threw my banana down and got up of the stool, grabbed my bags and took off out the door.

I hate that one minute I can be perfectly content, but the next I'm ready to throw myself in front of a car.

And that's one of these minutes.

I'm running to school. Whatever I don't care I'm running I thought. And I did. I took off down the street. School didn't start for 40 more minutes so I had time. And I can run for a good distance so I'll be okay.

Once I got to school- not many people were here yet, school doesn't start for another 30 minutes- I went strait to the locker rooms. I changed into some shorts I had in my lacrosse locker and it looked weird because I had a crop top and black athletic shorts on. Oh well. I threw my hair up in a pony tail and put on my cleats. I took my stick out of my lax bag and grabbed a ball.

This is what I always did when I need to clear my head or let off some steam. I jogged out the doors to head to the field. I stood in different places around the goal circle and started taking shots.

All the scenes from when my dad left to go to war the first time and when he almost died to when he came home and when I was told he was going to be going back. I gripped the stick in my hands and turned around and threw a long shot across the field. I groaned because I realized I had to go get the ball. I threw my stick on the ground and walked across the field. I bent down and picked up the ball. I let out a sigh and turned around to go back to shooting goals.