I HOLD THEfootball in my hands as the dawn peeks out from the behind the horizon.
It’s Monday morning. Laney and I spent the entire weekend together making up for lost time. I don’t think seven days a week, twenty-four seven would be enough time to spend with Laney. The girl has me hooked, and there’s no place I’d rather be. Except maybe on a football field. Preferably with Laney. Naked.
I roll the ball between my palms and inhale the smell of early morning. Everything is peaceful. Everything is quiet. I stare at the tire swing as pink light casts its luminescent glow.
Maybe you’re overthinking it.Maybe she’s right.
I close my eyes. What do I have to lose? Placing my fingers between the laces, I just let go; tossing the ball at the tire. I send every dream, every hope, and every expectation spiraling through the air. I open my eyes just in time to see the football pass through the hole. Something inside me lifts, then cracks. I pick up another football and throw again, sending it straight through the hole. Tears actually prick my eyes. I throw pass after pass, the way I once had. Almost every attempt hitting the target. I wipe my eyes after the bin is empty. “Yes!” I scream as loud as I can. The heaviness I’ve been carrying around the past few months now seems like nothing more than a weightless cloud. It feels like I just won a war.
I walk back into my house like I’m on air. My mother is standing at the kitchen counter. Her eyes are bright and brimming with tears, she must have been watching. She hugs me. “Kam, I want you to know, whether you play football or not, I love you. I never thought to tell you that because I thought you already knew. But now I’m making it perfectly clear. I’m proud of you for who you are, not for what you can do.”
I hug her tighter. “Thanks, Mom.” I adore this woman. I don’t know what I would do without her. Oh, right, laundry, according to Laney.
My mom lets go and holds my face in her hands. “I love you.” She reaffirms.
“I love you, too,” I respond, and she releases me. “I gotta get to school.”
“Picking up Laney?” my mom asks slyly as she opens the refrigerator.
“Yup,” I smirk, and walk out of the room.
Laney and I drive to school quietly while Justin Timberlake sings about it not being a bad thing to fall in love. At the moment, I’m inclined to agree. I squeeze her hand and glance over at the city girl whose presence, when we first met, felt like sudden impact. And still does in a way.
I pull into the packed parking lot where everyone is hanging out, not sweating first period. It’s the last week of school and the vibe is laid back. Finals are done, sports are over, and summer break is about to begin. You can feel the excitement in the air.
“Ready for your last week as a high school student?” Laney smiles at me.
I look at the brick building I’ve spent the last four years in. Lots of memories, lots of fun, some regrets.
“Yeah, I think I am,” I smile back.
Laney opens the door, but I snatch her hand. “One thing, though.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
I reach into the back seat. “I want you to wear this.” I hold up the shirt. Laney looks down at my practice jersey and then back up at me. “I know it, and you know it, now I want everyone else to know exactly whom you belong to.”
She beams as she pulls on the jersey. It goes perfect with her little cut-off shorts and Converse sneakers. I wonder if one of these days I can persuade her to wear a pair of cowboy boots. Preferably naked.
“I think it’s only fair if I wear something of yours, you should wear something of mine.”
I look at her funny.
“Relax. It’s not my underwear or anything.” She giggles, as she removes a thick, black, braided bracelet from her wrist. I would have never even noticed it; she’s wearing like twenty of them. “I made it for you.”
“You did?” I slip it on. It feels right.
“Mmmm-hmmm. I wanted you to have something to remember me by.”
My face falls. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Maybe. I still haven’t decided where to go to college.”
“What are your options?” I swallow the lump in my throat. I know Laney has never been thrilled to live here, even if she did say the country was growing on her.
“New York, New Jersey, Maryland, and Alabama.”
“Alabama?” My interest is piqued.
