1
Cadence
It’s Saturday and arguably the hottest day of summer, even though it’s coming to an end and senior year starts in literally two days. And while today should feel like any other Saturday, I can’t help but feel different. Different in the way that today, I can't really focus on much else other than the nervousness that's been bothering me since I woke up this morning; anxious about seeing a certain someone again. Someone I shouldn’t actually feel so nervous to see because, really, I pretty much see him all the time and, to be honest, he probably could care less about seeing me.
But then I close my eyes and think back to three Saturdays ago, the day before he left for football camp. I've been desperately hanging onto that moment, recalling the way he actually looked at me. It felt different that day, like he was finally noticing me. Maybe that’s why today feels different too. Waiting for him, knowing that we’re going to see each other again and I wonder if he’s thought about me as much as I have about him.
It's kind of an embarrassing thing for me to admit, that I'm overthinking seeing him again, but this feeling isn’t something new for me. I’ve known him for nearly my whole life and my crush for him started almost immediately after that. What’s worse is that he’s been in and out of my house more times than I can count over the years, so it's not like he’s never around. Summers, school days, holidays and football games, you name it. He’s truly someone I’ve grown up with and my parents love him like a second son; almost like he’s a part of our own family. So, imagine how hard it's been, trying to conceal the fact that when I look at him, I feel things. Maybe that’s another reason why this is so difficult and different. I mean, as the years went by I did my best to suppress my feelings for him, damn near denying them myself. I don't want to risk embarrassment due to his reaction, or anyone else’s reaction, if they were to ever find out that I have this intense crush on him.
A confession that only my best friend and I know . . . I am in love with the one person I probably shouldn't be in love with and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Except now, I might actually be able to do something about it.
Maybe after today, things will shift between us and I’ll become someone more than just a girl who watches him from the sidelines. Maybe he’ll become more than someone I probably shouldn’t be in love with.
“You’re obsessing again,” Ryen sing-songs from the blue floaty she’s laid up on in the pool. I scoff, hating how she can read right through me.
“Me?” I holler at her before I pretend to nonchalantly sip lemonade from my bendy straw. “Obsessed with a boy?” My question comes out very sarcastic, purposefully might I add. We both know that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, but these last three weeks have been the worst.
My best friend chuckles sardonically before lowering her shades to glare at me.
I point my eyes at her, peering over the book I’ve got propped up in front of me. But only for a second before I cover my face back up, removing her from my view as I think about just how utterly obsessed I actually am over the one person I probably shouldn’t be obsessed with.
"Not just any boy," she adds and she's right. Because to me, Zachariah Loft isn't justany boy.
He's Harper High’s top wide receiver of the Timber Wolves' football team; number twenty-nine. Dark, soft, brown eyes—almost as dark as his flawlessly messy hair—tan, strong arms, and dimples that adorn his insanely handsome smile. It’s easy to get caught up in his looks, but there’s more to Zach than what meets the eye. Sure, he plays the part of the coveted football player with the bad boy smirk and mysterious charm, but I’m convinced that it’s only a facade for the girls who don’t notice more than his looks, anyway.
He’s usually got a harem of girls who fawn over him, so the shortage of female attention is not something he ever has to worry about, even though he doesn't usually buy into it. I'm not sure they've ever truly paid attention to the layers of Zach. If they've ever heard his laugh the way I hear it; like a deep echo against the dark midnight sky. If they've seen his smile the way I do; a soft embrace painted perfectly and carrying a gentleness toit, even when he himself looks a little rough. Or if they've looked into his eyes the way I do; the pain carefully hidden behind the deep honey pools, something he chooses to keep locked away, but I see it. I see the things he tries to hide behind his stoic stares and I hear the way his casual words want to say more. If they understood that his nonchalant act was really his desire to be seen as more than just a hot boy, someone who is more than the talent he displays on the football field, and if they really tried to actually understand him in general rather than just use him as a means to gain popularity, then maybe they’d have a better chance at getting his full attention.
Or maybe I’ve got it all wrong because here I am, practically begging for his attention the same way all the other girls do, and yet, I await with nerves caressing my belly wondering if he even sees me the same way I see him. Wondering if the glances he gave me before he left meant more.
So yeah, I guess I’m kind of obsessed.
But Zach isn't just any boy.
He also happens to be my brother’s best friend.
He’s all I’ve been able to think about this summer. Hell, every summer and every season that comes before and after and well, let’s just say I can’t get him out of my head. In fact, the very first thought I had when I woke up this morning was him. And even more so now as I sneak glances at the back door every couple of minutes, knowing that soon, I’ll get to see him again.
When I found out that he and my brother were coming back from camp today, I immediately recruited Ryen. I needed someone to be a buffer, or else I just knew I’d make a fool out of myself if I didn't just keep myself locked in my room. But if I thought I was going to make myself look stupid without her help, then I don’t know what I can say about what I’m doing right now.
Picture this. I’m currently laid up in a folding chair by the pool in my back yard—book in hand to make it seem like I’mdistracted with my sunglasses over my eyes so that no one can see where I’m looking—anticipating the moment he walks through the back door of my house, hopeful that his eyes will gaze over me and he’ll suddenly fall head over heels in love.
Pathetic, right? And I know it’s not going to be that easy and I know that’s a ridiculous hope to have. But I told Ry that I wanted to make my move, that I wanted to test the waters and for some reason, this was the best plan we could think of—sit out in the burning heat of the sun and wait for the boys to get home.
It’s been about an hour now and I’m sure that if I didn’t use the full bottle of sunscreen already, I’d be red as a lobster. He could show up any moment now, or it could be a few more hours for all I know. But any amount of waiting feels like too much waiting, especially when I’ve been stuck with just the image of him for a little over three weeks now.
I close my eyes once again and bring up the last memory I have of him, the day before he and my brother left for camp.
Mom and Dad invited Zach and his parents over for a little gathering before the boys were to head off to conditioning camp. It’s something we do quite often over summers actually, both of our families getting together to grill and hang out. Zach and Bray tossed the football around between our dads while running the grill. Our moms spent time gossiping over vodka-lemonades on the porch while Ryen and I—since she’s my plus one to literally everything—simply just hung out by the pool, chatting as usual.
Everything was as perfect and normal as it could be. The sun was beaming and the smell of barbeque permeated. But then, as I usually do, I inadvertently found myself sneaking a glance in Zach’s direction. I’m usually careful not to get caught. There are times where I’m sure he’s about to catch me, but I look away just in time. But this time, I had no chance. Becausehewas already looking atme. And I don’t know, maybe he didn’t mean to look my way, but for some reason he didn't look away.
Maybe it truly meant nothing. Maybe he wanted me to know that he sees me. I even tried to play it off and look away. But when I looked back, he was still staring. And call me crazy, but it felt like something sparked between us, or maybe I made that up because I wanted something to spark between us. But it was like he was looking at me as if there was something actually worth looking at, like he was just as drawn to me as I’d always been to him.
It caught me off guard and again, it felt different. Not like any of the other times he’d looked at me before. But just as quickly as that feeling came, it left; he broke the eye contact after we stared at each other a little too long. And while I silently mourned the loss of his eyes on mine, it wasn’t the last time.
Later that evening, after the food was finished and we all sat around the table for dinner, I felt the familiar warmth radiate over my body and I knew. I glanced up from my plate, my mom and his dad talking about something I wasn’t focusing on. And when I found the source of the heat, my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were on mine again. But this time, I didn’t look away. I couldn’t. I waited until he decided he couldn’t look at me anymore and after that, it was the last time.
