Two Birds, One Stone

26. Sorry Sight

meet me on the football field

     Six words -- not even spoken words, but voiceless letters on a screen -- shouldn't have had so much power. Six words shouldn't have been able to make my heart beat so hard I could hear it. Six words shouldn't have made it so difficult to fill my lungs back up again.

     Six words sent me reeling.

     A loud crash of thunder reminded me that it was storming out, and it was almost too much to handle. I lay back on my bed and tried to take a deep breath, focusing on the blank white of my ceiling in the hopes that it would make my head stop spinning.

     Meet Jamie on the football field. In the rain.

     I couldn't go.

     The football field was where we'd had our first kiss (at least, the first one I could clearly remember). It was where I'd had my first sober kiss with any guy, the first time I'd ever felt anything real and exciting. So fucking exciting, I kept going back, kept meeting Jamie after games were finished and the field was empty. We hadn't even liked each other back then. Jamie had been nothing but a convenience; a sexy, mysterious, intriguing convenience.

    And then, somehow -- I don't really know how -- he became more than just a benefit. James Alexander became a person -- a real, flawed, absolutely aggravating person. And he somehow managed to piss me off until I fell for him.

     It all started on the school football field. In the rain.

     "I like storms. I like the sights and sounds. Not all of us want to frolic through the rain like we belong on the set of a cheesy musical."

     "The rain is the best part. I say don't knock it until you try it -- really try it. Come on . . . I'll prove it to you."

     "Um . . . No?"

     "You should. It's really nice. Your stubborn ass will thank me later."

     "Not interested."

     "Come on."

     "No."

     "Yes."

     "Go dance around by yourself."

     "No."

     "Yes."

     "No."

     "Yes."

      "Please?"

      "Yes -- wait --"

     I had laughed. Jamie had glared at me, but I'd held out my hand to him.

     And eventually, he had taken it.

     The enigma, the boy who stopped for nothing and no one, had taken my hand. And I had let it go.

      I had let him go. No, I had thrown him away, on that same football field, in the rain.

     I couldn't meet him there. There was too much history in one place. I would suffocate if I went.

     I had to go.

     I laid my hands over my face until everything was black. Shut the world out until everything stopped spinning, everything just stopped around me, in my head, and I could breathe easy again.