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I wasn’t there.
I want to look away, but it’s too late and it wouldn’t matter anymore if I did. This image will forever be ingrained in my mind. The photo in a dust-coated frame, in his room, above his bed, is the only memory I’ll ever have as a reference for the day my son was born.
How have I never taken the time to glance at these memorials of the past before?
My jaw locks and I shrug Hailey off when she reaches for my shoulder. I don’t need her sympathy, it’s too late for that.
“Promise me you won’t ever take him away from me again.”
I don’t miss, even in the silence of this room, her soft gasp, the sound as if she’s scraped a fork through her teeth. Squeaky but polished.
Hailey wasn’t expecting me to be so forthcoming. Too bad for her. I’m done cowering behind her self-doubts and hesitancy.
One of us needs to be mature about this. Summer’s nearly over, and then what? I never see him again?
Not. Happening.
“Let’s go out in the hall and have this conversation,” Hailey says, as her way of tiptoeing around the real conversation. Stalling. This goes much deeper, and we both know it.
I agree, stalking past her only for my son’s sake. She should be grateful because it gives her a chance to collect her own thoughts, whereas I have no problem vocalizing my own. Not anymore. I’m done treading around things for her own indecision.
If you had asked me the other night under the gazebo, I was so sure I saw it, then it was gone as soon as she saw her mother. Cowardly, she folded right back into that headspace of hers.
“Basketball is your dream…” Hailey starts once the door is softly clicked shut.
My eyes flare with disgust and fury, spinning as I give her my front.
“You are not allowed to use that against me.” I’m suddenly livid, but somehow, I manage to keep my temper in check, and it makes this all the more unsettling.
Yes, going pro is my dream, and I’ve worked hard to get where I am today, but she fails to realize she,her, was my real prize. Hailey was my endgame, my glory. At one time, she made me believe I’d won, but it turns outthatwas the fantasy,notbasketball.
How does she not understand this? Realize what she means to me?
“Stop bullshitting me, Hailey. I’m over the excuses and the mind games.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyelids flutter, a threat laced in her voice as well as anguish.
“You know what it means.”
“I don’t.”
“You do,” I disagree.
Howcan’tshe see it? How can’t she understand what’s been happening between us this summer?
My breathing turns ragged.
This thing between us is deeper. I thought it was for her too, but with the way she treated me around her mom last night, I’m not sure anymore. Today we were fine, we flirted, and she even reached for my hand at one point, and it was like nothing happened.
It’s confusing.
It’s as if her mind’s a switch and she keeps turning it on and off.
My chest rises and falls, is the room spinning or is it just me? She feels so out of reach. I watch as that switch in her mind flicks off again. It’s like her head and heart are at war and she keeps trying to protect herself, but from what?Me?
She scratches her elbow. “You wouldn’t get it.” Her tone drops from fierce and loud to quiet and insecure. A sheep in the body of a wolf.
“So, explain yourself.” I croak, desperate for an explanation. “When have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?” I stress, “When, Hailey? Enlighten me…please?”
