i'll save you

5. she isn't here

friday, august 21
9:32 am

miles.

"Come on, freshman. You're a point guard, West. You should be ahead of everyone," Coach Green yells, making me more frustrated.

"Yea, freshman. Pick it up," a junior says, bumping my shoulder.

We've been running around this damn field for 30 minutes. I'm already starting to hate college basketball. I can tell this is going to be completely different from high school. Every time one person gets in front of me, our coach screams at me, embarrassing me in front of all these people I don't know.

"You got it, bro. Come on," Zion says, patting my back.

I continue to run across the planet until he finally calls us back into the gym. The only thing I can think about right now is Jordyn. We've only been apart for two days, and I'm already in the most intense pain. I just want my baby. It's also terrifying to me that I'm not there to stop her from hurting herself. Her and that alcohol is something else, bruh.

"Where's your head at, West?! Get your shit together or you won't see yourself on the court every again," Coach yells again.

Man, maybe this shit isn't for me.

∞

"Beanhead... it's your first day. You can't give up already. You knew it was going to be way more intense than high school ball," Jordyn smiles, staring at me back through the screen.

"I know, but I owned that court in Miami. No one could touch me. Here, I'm the fucking runt of the team. They're treating Zion like a king."

"You're a point guard. You told me yourself they're always people on your toes."

"Still, babe. I don't know if this is for me."

"Here... do you still love basketball?" she asks.

"Of course, I do."

"Are you willing to push through to be able to play the sport that you love?"

"Yes."

"Then, what's really the problem? You've had mean coaches before. And you've had beef with other teammates before. So, why do you really wanna quit?" she says, reading right through me.

"Because... now it's... it's real now. In high school, it didn't feel real. I was getting scouted my freshman year. Now, it's very real. After this is either the league or nothing. I either make it or I don't. And I don't know who I am without basketball."

"You'll make it, baby, but only if you don't give up. You're automatically not gonna make it if you just stop playing," she says, speaking nothing but facts.

That's always been one thing I've loved about her. It took a minute, but she's always kept it real with me. Even if it was something she was embarrassed about, like the drinking.

"I know, angel. It's just so new."

"Yes, it is, but it's nothing you can't handle. Be you. And don't let your teammates put you down. At the end of the day, you all have the same goal."

I hear someone knock on the door of Jordyn's room. As soon as she opens the door, all of them just start screaming. I instantly know it's Lael.

"Baby, I gotta go help her move in. I'll call you back when I'm done," Jordyn smiles, making me fall in love all over again.

"Okay. Tell her to text Zion back so he can leave me alone."

"Okay. I love you!"

"I love you more!"

Love of my life right there.

∞

jordyn.

"What about you, Ms. Psychology Major? Are you excited for your classes?" Kylie asks, jumping onto her bed.

"Yea, I'm taking Math, English, Intro to Personality, Behavioral and Social Science, and Abnormal Behavior... I think."

"Okay, those all sound hard as the fuck," Lael laughs.

"I'm sure they are."

I think it's ironic that I'm a psychology major given the fact that my brain is so fucked up. Maybe my first patient can be myself.

"Guys, guess what?! There's this huge party tonight to kick off our freshman year. Who's down?!" Mia asks, showing us the flyer on her phone.

"Me!" Lael and Kylie say together.

I immediately go quiet. I told Miles that I'd stop. And I know for a fact if I go to this party, I'm gonna get caught up in some shit, and I won't be able to stop myself.

"Ummm... how about y'all go, and call me if you need a designated driver or something. I don't think a party is best for me, right now."

"Whyy?! Come onnnnn," Mia groans. "It's our first party as college kids. You have to go. Here, you don't have to drink at all. Just dance a little. If you feel like you're gonna drink, tell me and I'll force you to leave."

"I don't know about this," I sigh. "I literally cannot drink."

"We gotchu, girl. Don't worry."

∞

omniscient.

While Jordyn was partying, Miles was blowing up his mother's phone. He continues to call her for 30 minutes until he finally gives up and calls the one man he actually trusts in the world. Jordyn's dad.

"Hey, coach?!"

"Wassup, son?"

"I know it's kinda late. But I need a favor."

"I'm about to leave the house anyway. What do you need?"

"My momma's not answering the phone, and I don't know what to do. I was wondering if you could just go by and check on her," Miles asks, pacing around his dorm room.

"Of course. I'll call you when I get there."

Once Terrence arrives at Miles's mom's house. He sees a truck in the front door that's all too familiar. Every since Miles's parents got a divorce, his dad's truck has been nowhere to be found. Except for right now, of course.

As soon as Terrence walks up to the front door, he hears the loud screams and cries coming from Morgan. He bangs on the door continuously until he finally just kicks the door in. Once he's in, he sees Morgan balled up in the corner, watching her mother getting beaten by her father. A sense of possessiveness comes over Terrence, and everything goes black for him.

The cops find Tracee, Miles's mom, and Morgan crouched in the corner, and Terrence standing over her ex-husband's unconscious body. Terrence immediately calls Miles, who he spends 30 minutes trying to calm him down.

The rest of that night Miles calls Jordyn tens of times, but she doesn't answer. He's too stressed out over his mom to worry about Jordyn. All he can think about is that she isn't here. And the sad part is, he knows she couldn't be here even if she wanted to.

∞

i hope you guys like this book... i promise it's going somewhere. i love you all. thank you for everything.

comment pwease.

yours truly, clarissa.