“Shit, that sucks. I can’t imagine…she must be one tough chick to raise two boys on her own, though. Especially two basketball players. You must’ve eaten her out of house and home.”
“Yeah. Let me tell you, me and Chris put her through the ringer as kids. We both had our…issues, so-to-speak…but she was our rock. Unwavering and solid. I don’t know how she did it or what we would’ve done without her.”
His mom must’ve been a freaking saint to handle two boys on her own. I guess the same holds true for my mom. She stayed home with me and my siblings while my dad worked eighty-hours a week as a criminal defense attorney. She was the one who made our breakfasts, lunches and school treats, in between shuttling us from one thing to another. And most importantly, she broke up all our fights.
It was usually Cade and me bickering and fighting. Kylah was always the peacemaker between the three of us. And when she couldn’t manage the blow-out, my mom would step in and give us that stern look of disappointment before sending us to our rooms, after doling out the punishment.
“Moms are special that way,” I agree, making a reminder for myself to call my mom later today. Or to text her to let her know I love her. When I spoke with Kylah yesterday, she mentioned that my mom and her husband, John, are on some African safari.
Regardless of how I felt about the weirdness of my mom marrying our long-time neighbor, John, it’s obvious that she’s much happier than she ever was with my dad. I’m glad she’s found someone who treats her so well and gives her a chance to travel the world, instead of being left behind in a suburban home succumbing to boredom and regret.
“Has your mom been to visit you since you’ve been here in Italy?”
I watch with interest as his expression moves from light to dark, like someone just shut the blinds and the shadows fell across his hard features.
He shakes his head, averting his eyes. “Nah, neither Christian or my mom have been able to visit. It is what it is. Christian’s has to take summer classes and work with a tutor so he can remain eligible for play next year. He fell behind this year.”
“Oh,” I lamely remark. I know the feeling.
“That’s another thing we have in common – me and my brother. We both have learning disabilities.”
My eyes round in surprise over his confession. I would have never guessed that Gavin had a learning disability.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s probably why we both excelled in sports, because we had our own special challenges in school. My brother was diagnosed ADHD when he was seven, and until he was officially diagnosed and put on meds that helped temper his behaviors, he created a lot of angst for my mom. He’d have these huge temper tantrums and melt downs, and would lose control physically, which lead to a lot of time away from school. That only put him further behind. By the time he got into high school, he was only reading at a sixth-grade level.”
“The school system couldn’t do anything for him?”
Gavin considers this. “Maybe, I don’t really know. He went to Special Ed classes and worked with tutors, but it’s always been hard for him to catch up. It’s been a real struggle, especially when all he wants to do is play ball. School and studying weren’t his first priorities.”
“That makes sense. Why didn’t he just go pro and avoid the hard work of college altogether? College isn’t for everyone.”Says the girl who dropped out and isn’t going back.
“Don’t I know it. That’s why you don’t see me in a classroom. My learning disability is even more severe and pronounced. If it hadn’t been for basketball, or some of the great coaches, teachers and school psychologists who helped and encouraged me, I probably never would have graduated high school. The only time I stood out for something positive was on the court, where I was truly exceptional.”
I’m lost in my own thoughts and turn back to the photo without a response. Gavin and I seem to be similar in this manner. I’m not sure how we got onto this topic of conversation, but I know exactly how he feels about being different. Compared to my brother and sister, who are scientific geniuses, I’m nothing but average. At least with Gavin, he has something he’s good at, though. As for me, I’ve never been exceptional in anything I’ve done. I’ve floundered in school. In life. In relationships.
That’s why I came to Europe. I needed an escape. A way to find myself. To figure out what I wanted to do and who I am on my own.
I sit down at the edge of his rumpled bed, pushing a stack of unfolded clothes to the side to make room for my butt.
“At least you know what you’re good at and you’re doing what you love. Me, on the other hand,” I swish my hand in the air. “I’m a lost cause.”
Gavin sits down next to me, shifting to face me. His eyes, the warmth and intensity in them, spreads through me, tickling my heart chamber and causing it to flutter. He lays a gentle hand on my bare leg in a supportive gesture. It’s not sexual. Although, it doesn’t stop the crackling heat that sizzles and sparks between us. There’s a zap of electricity every time we’re near each other.
I wonder if he feels it, too. Or if I’m just in a weird place right now.
“That’s not true. You are remarkable. I’ve only known you two days and I already know that.”
I change the subject. “Do you miss your family?”
“I do,” he acknowledges quickly. “I wish they could come over and visit me. Unfortunately, my mom is dealing with my stepdad’s cancer. I can’t begrudge her for wanting to remain home to take care of him. She and Frank have only been married for four years and he was just diagnosed a month before I left. How about you? Missing home yet?”
I dodge his eye contact and stare out the window. Not much to look at except another brick building. Old Lady Minelli lives there – crazy loud lady, always yelling at her feeble husband. Gavin told me all about them last night, but said she makes delicious cannoli.
“I miss my sister, Kylah, and my brother,” I acknowledge, holding up my right hand and pinching my thumb and index finger together. “Well, Cade only a little bit. He can be annoying as hell.”
Gavin laughs and nods his head in agreement.
