Leah Hart

Pressure – n.
1.
The application of continuous force by one body on another that it is touching; compressing. i.e. The relief I feel when I apply ice to my shoulder after practice
2.
A compelling or constraining influence such as a moral force on the mind or will. i.e. The way my head aches, my heart pounds, and my palms sweat every time I think about the fact that I am replacing the best pitcher in the state
3.
An oppressive condition of physical, mental or social distress. i.e. the weight my parents put on me to do better in school, sports, life, everything.



I, Leah Hart, am screwed.
***

“Hey, Kota, I know it’s six in the morning but would you mind coming to the diamond? Catch for me, please? Call me back, k bye.” I say then hang up and go to get the bucket of balls out of the shed at the field. I start to carry the bucket over to the pitcher’s mound. Half way there I hear something hit the chain link fence, looking up to see Taylor Rydel, Torey’s younger brother. He’s pitching, throwing ball after ball, nowhere near the strike zone. He’s angry. I just stand there, watching him. He’s gorgeous. The way his body just seems to glide when he pitches. So muscular, so tan, he’s perfect. Ya know, other than the fact that he can’t pitch the ball through the strike zone.

“Dammit!” shouts Taylor as he spins chucking his glove towards the dugout.

“Oh so you can throw your glove straight but not the ball?” I shout as I start to walk over to the pitcher’s mound, leaving where I stopped to watch Taylor. “The scouts are just going to love that.” I say playfully when I get closer.

“Knock it off, Leah;” he says annoyed, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, I can see that,” I say. “Ya know, after the suspension, your sister started training me. She told me to never pitch angry.” Taylor just stands there, refusing to respond. “I mean, it makes perfect sense when you think about it. The angrier you are, the harder you throw, the harder you throw, the more difficult the ball is to control.”

“I said, not now,” Taylor growls through gritted teeth.

“Really?” I ask as I start to circle him “’Cause, I heard ‘Knock it off, Leah,’ and ‘I’m not in the mood. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but neither one of those were, ‘not now’” I say with a satisfied grin.

“Smart ass,” he mumbles.

“Ugh, relax, kid!” I say as I push his shoulder, “Just throw the ball. Take a deep breath, relax, and pitch.”

“Oh, and what makes you think I’m going to take your advice?” he asks in flirtatious tone, “You’ve pitched what? Around six inning?” he says as he starts to mock me by circling me once.

“Okay, one: how did you know that? And two: in those six innings I’ve stuck out more batters than you have in your entire high school career.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “Oh, great and wise pitcher of Silver, teach me our ways,” He says then drops to one knee, “I beg of you.”

I burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, just get up,” I say through a fit of giggles as I pull Taylor to his feet. “Alright,” I say as I hand him a baseball from the bucket her brought. “Now, from what I can see your form is like, totally perfect, so-“

“From what you can see?” Taylor asks cutting me off, “So you’ve been watching me?” he grins.

I blush before composing myself and reply, “This coming from the boy who knew the exact amount of inning I’ve pitched.” It’s his turn to blush. “As I was saying, you need to relax, clear your head. Don’t think about anything at all. Just clear your mind, and pitch.” Taylor nods. “Okay, now, I guess, I’ll catch for you,” I say as I start to head towards home plate.

“Yo, Rydel! Could you like not check out Harts ass every time you’re near her. I get it, she’s hot, but step up ask her out or give it up already, damn!” shouts some guy from the equipment shed. My mouth drops open when I comprehend what he just said. I turn to see Nathan Coy walking towards us, “Hi, Leah.” He sends me a grin while waving.

“Nate, man, you’re late.” Taylor says, obviously embarrassed.

Nate plays second base on the school’s baseball team. He’s actually really good. I used to hang out with Nate and Taylor a lot back when they were still close to Dakota. I’m not really sure what happened to that. I mean, it was like one day they were all hanging out, Taylor obviously a third wheel in the Nate – and – Kota – so – tragically – in – love – but – neither – of – us- want – to – admit – it show, the next Nate was dating some Eiden chick and Kota was banging every decent boy she could get her hands on. It’s quite terrible actually. I was really pulling for those two. “Leah,” speak of the devil, and she shall appear. I turn to see Kota running towards us as fast as she can, Her long sandy colored hair bouncing behind her in that I- just- rolled- out- of- bed- and- didn’t- have- time- to- do-anything- but- my-hair- is- still- in- perfect- beach- curls way that only Kota can pull off. That plus the make-up she put on yesterday but is still somehow flawless and the barely there daisy ducks she somehow makes look classy makes her the envy of every girl at Eiden Valley High, “I tried calling you, but you weren’t answering your phone. Sorry I missed you this morning.”

“No big deal,” I saw with a shrug.

“Jeez, Kota,” says Taylor, “Totally ignore us here.”

“Taylor!” she squeals then runs and jumps into his arms, he catches her and holds her up by her but while her legs are wrapped around his waist. I can only watch the exchange for a second before I have to look away, a sliver of pain and slight anger shooting through me. I look back up just in time to see Taylor gently let Kota go as she lets her legs slowly slide to the ground. Kota turns to Nate. It’s almost as if you could see the wall of awkward tension that built between them, “Nate,” Kota forces out with a smile as she uncomfortably shoves her hands into the tiny front pockets of her shorts.

“Kota,” Nate nods in reply then he turns to Taylor, “Ready?” he asks in a hurry to leave.

“Oh, um, sure. Just let me pick up my ba-“

“We’ll get them!” Kota insists, perhaps a little too excited, “I mean, we’ll have to pick up outs anyway.”

“Kota, they’re mine. If you haven’t noticed this is a softball field.” He tells her gently.

“Easy fix. Leah, give Taylor your key to the shed so he can get them out when he comes to practice in the morning. Then he can give it back when you come.” She says.

“But,” I start to protest but Kota shoots me an ice cold glare. Afraid for my life I take my keys from my pocket, pull off the one to the shed and hand it to Taylor.

“Great,” says Nate, “Who’s driving?”

“I will,” Taylor says before turning to me. “Well, I guess, I’ll see you in the morning.” He says with a smile as he starts to walk backwards.

“Yeah,” I say a grin tugging on the edges of my lips, “I guess you will.”
***

“Kota, what the hell was that?” I ask as we gather all the baseballs she so generously volunteered us to clean up.

“Um, pitching practice?” she says as she shoots me a questioning look.

“Not that,” I half shout, “I mean, whatever that awkward thing was with Nate! You two used to be so close, like attached at the hip close. What happened?”

“His girlfriend didn’t want him talking to the school slut.” She says with a sad shrug.

“As I recall, the reputation came after the best friend fall out,” I say gently. “Kota, seriously, spill.” I take a few steps toward her.

She lets out a defeated sigh, “she hated me. I don’t know why, but she did, does, and when she told him to stop talking to me, he listened.” She bends down to scoop up a couple of baseballs then lazily tossing them into the bucket without looking.

“That was over a year ago,” I say confused.

She nods, “Yeah, I know.” She picks up the last ball. “What you witnessed was one of the rare occasions when he feels as if he can’t ignore me.” I look at Kota’s face for the first time since we stopped practice. Her expression gives off nothing but hurt. Suddenly her grip on the baseball tightens, as her face twist into a gorgeous expression of anger. She looks over at Nate’s new Camaro, then down at the ball in her hand. Before I can say anything she chucks the ball as hard as she can toward the car. I watch in slow motion as the ball flies in a low arch toward the Chevy, until a loud crack wakes me out of my trance. I whip around to see Kota looking pale. She stands there staring at the shattered windshield a slow smile creeping onto her lips as one single tear slides down her cheek.








Rachel Lawson


“Okay, two things, both involving Dakota Anderson, both in at least some ways rather tragic. One you’re going to laugh at while the other you may just want to strangle her. Ready?” I ask as I sit down at Carter’s kitchen table for breakfast with her and her daughter Kylee.

“Set!” yells Kylee from the chair she is standing on. Kylee has recently decided that although she is still too small to see over the table sitting down, she is far too mature for a buster seat. Carter thought it best not to argue.

“Go,” sighs Carter lazily as she stands at the counter.

“Okay, so as I was coming over I drove past the diamond just to see if Leah is as insane as she seems and practicing every second of every day. She is, but anyway, as I drove by I saw Kota chuck a baseball at Nathan Coy’s new Camaro.”

“Did she hit it?” asks Carter mildly interested.

“What? Of course she hit it, right smack dab in the middle of the windshield.
This is Kota we’re talking about.”

“Good,” she says flatly, “The jerk deserves it.”

“Okay,” I say sending her a questioning look.”

“You didn’t know that Nate like totally broke Kota’s heart?” she asks as if this should be common knowledge. “I thought Eiden Valley’s own resident Gossip Girl knew all there is to know in the hook ups, break ups, and make ups department.”

“Spotted:” I say quoting possibly the best book series from our generation, “R needing to be informed about the relationship between N and D by C because she had no idea there even was one. Someone should be paying more attention.”

“You are such a dork,” Carter says as she flips a pancake.

“I know, but I thought that Nate and Kota were just friends.”

“They were best friend.” She says as she cracks an egg shell in half, moving the contents until all the white is in the pan, and the yoke is still safely contained in the shell. “Best friends that were about to turn into more than best friends, but Kota’s parents made her go on that stupid family vacation. You know that one like right before her mom left. Well, when they came back Nate was dating one of the Eiden,” She pauses to look at Ky, “S-L-U-T’s” she spells out.

“So?” I ask.

“So, from what I heard from Torey Rydel who was totally ease-dropping on Kota when she went to Taylor for advice. I guess the chick told Nate that he couldn’t speak to Kota anymore and he listened.” She says as she brings me a plate, then turns to do the dishes.

“Whoa,” I say, not being able to help feeling sorry for Kota, “Dick move.”

“Language!” Carter says sharply giving me a warning look. “She’s repeating everything these days,” she nods her head towards her daughter.

“Everything,” says Kylee in agreement.

“Sorry,” I mumble then take a bite of my egg whites. I look down at the plate to see two strips of bacon, two egg whites, and two pancakes, everything drenched in syrup, just the way I like it. I honestly don’t know what the point in taking out the yoke is when I add like half a bottle of syrup but hey, healthy is healthy. “Anyway, as for the other Kota news.” I take another bite, chew swallow, then continue, “Okay, so this may be a little hard for you to hear, and I would just like to point out that I do not know this for a fact but-“

“She’s sleeping with Zach,” Carter finishes for me, “I know.” She says calmly. Too calmly, she should be livid.

“You know?” I ask shocked,

“Yeah, that’s why I was so upset at practice yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask kind of hurt.

“You would have killed her!” Carter says half laughing.

“Uh, duh!” I say as if I have every right to tear that little sophomore skank limb from limb. “I mean, I don’t care how hot the guy is you just don’t sleep with your teammate’s baby daddy. That’s like girl code rule number one.” Carter turns to give me a skeptical look. “Okay, maybe not one but it’s definitely up there, somewhere.” I pause, “Whatever, but seriously, Carter why is she still breathing. I mean if this was three years ago.”

“Zach and I would still be together,” she says cutting me off. “It’s not, we’re not. So I have no say in what or who he does.” She pauses to turn around to face me. “Besides, you know Kota, Rachel. It’s just sex. That’s how she is lately. I mean, yeah, sure, it hurts, but she’s hurting too. If sex helps than, as long as she’s being safe, more power to her.”

“Even if it’s with Zach?” I ask

“If it’s with Zach than, so be it. He’s not mine anymore.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I mean this is the exact opposite reaction I was expecting. Carter seems totally fine with this, or at the very least she’s accepted it. It’s times like this when I am very proud to call this girl my best friend. “I love you, ya know that?” I say.

“Yeah,” she says with a smile. “Love you too, best friend.” She says while taking my fork from my hand and taking a huge bite of my pancake.
























Brooke Collins


“I mean, it was almost like she didn’t even care,” says Rachel. She’s been rambling on about how Carter doesn’t find it necessary to rip Kota apart for the better part of an hour, while I’ve been trying to watch television in my living room. I personally agree with Carter. Mostly because Rachel’s whole “it’s against girl code,” argument is lame.

I mean, all is fair in love and war, right? Of course, Zach and Kota aren’t in love. They’re having sex. Does that mean the rules change? Like does girl code apply to all kinds of relationships or just the I-like-him-he-likes-him-but-my-friend-saw-him-first-so-I-can’t-have-him kind?

Either way I don’t think Kota should have to explain herself. Zach and Carter have been over for a while. He’s aloud to do whatever or rather whoever he wants, right?

Ugh, this is so complicated. All Rachel’s rambling is melting my brain! I blame girl code.

“Um, Brooke?” says Rachel snapping me out of my thoughts, “Dude, are you even listening to me?”

“Honestly, no,” I reply, “I thought I would let you vent before I put my two cents in.”

“Okay, shoot.” She says with a raised eyebrow, “What do you think about this whole thing?”

“I think you should mind your own damn business,” I say casually, “I mean if Carter can accept that Zach and Kota are having meaningless sex why can’t you? He ain’t your baby daddy.”


“It’s wrong, Brooke,” she whines. “Carter and Zach belong together, and they owe it to Kylee to realize that.”

“Are you sure you’re not just letting your own mommy and daddy issues decide your opinion on this one?” I ask, “God, Rach, they’re teenagers. They have plenty of time to realize they’re perfect for each other. That is if they really are.”

“They are,” she says matter-of-factly. “We have to get them back together. Promise you’ll help me? She asks, her blue eyes shining with hope.

“Okay, whatever, just don’t do anything to Kota. She’s going thought enough.”

“Yay!” she squeals, “Oh, and of course Kota will remain totally fine and completely slutty.” She says with a smile, before turning back to the TV.

I have a really bad feeling about this.













Ashleigh Annabelle Adkins

Dakota, Dakota, where to begin. Ya know, I just don’t know what’s going on with her lately. Ever since her fall out with Nate she’s been, well, out of it. Like, she doesn’t care anymore. She’s put on this happy face and she’s trying to be just like she was before but the fire burning behind her eyes is gone, extinguished, all because of a boy.

God, I used to hold her so much higher than that. She’s such a gorgeous girl, by far the most beautiful at out high school, Eiden Valley High. Seriously, super models would even have a long way to go before they reached the level of effortless beauty that is Dakota Nichole Anderson, and this is even a broken hearted Kota, a depressed Kota, a Kota lacking her unique fire that made everybody fall in love with her the second she spoke, the fire hot enough to make any boy melt, the fire that is the epitome of every girls’ envies.

I honestly think that I could say that Kota is the most beautiful girl in the world and no one would argue, but this lesser version of her hurts me to watch. It’s like she has this crazy idea in her head that being the school slut is somehow better than just being hurt; like knowing a boy chose a girl lesser than you is worse than making yourself less than the girl he picked. I guess I understand. If she’s lesser then she can make sense out of it. If she’s lesser it’s good he chose someone else. If she’s lesser she deserved to lose him.

But that’s all bull s***. Kota was perfect! There’s no other way to say it. She’s kind. She’s smart. She’s talented, creative, and gorgeous. She’s everything. Well, she was everything. Without her fire nothing seems to shine through. She’s still kind. She’s still smart. She’s still talented, creative, and gorgeous; she just hides it behind this slutty mask of partying, getting drunk, and hooking up with random guys.

She hides it because she’s afraid of getting hurt again. Her fire was in her heart and with that broken she’s only half the girl she used to be.
***

“Hey, Kota,” I shout as I walk into her garage. Her music is blaring as always. Today it’s Love is Misery by Before Their Eyes. Great song. Upbeat, but if you listen to the lyrics it’s actually kind of depressing.

She pokes her head out from around one of her many classic cars, smiling with grease smudges on her face. She gives me a nod. I walk up to her and stare down at the motor of the car. She grabs the rag hanging off the side of the vehicle, then tries unsuccessfully to wipe the grease from her fingers, and then walks over to turn down the giant iPod dock that looks like an old school stereo. I turn and lean against the car, “So, what’s this one?” I ask mildly interested.

“This,” she says as she walks back over to put the hood down, “is a ’72 Gran Torino.”

“Dude!” I say suddenly excited, “Like the movie!”

Kota shakes her head and stifles a laugh. “Yes, Ashleigh. A Gran Torino was in the movie Gran Torino. Go figure!”

“It looks just like the Chevelle to me.” I say taking a closer look at the car.

“And the ’72 Charger, the 442, not the mention the Mustang, and Camaro from that year too.” She sighs, “I know, most of the older cars do look a lot alike.”

“Not the Comet,” I say motioning to the white car across the large shop, “Ya know, I could’ve sworn that car was black.”

“The Comet is black,” she says “The car you just pointed to is a Custom, and they’re like ten to fifteen years older than the others.”

“Oh, okay,” I say then step away from the car. “How many do you have now?”

“Counting the BMW and the F150?” she pauses to count in her head. “Twelve.”

“Whoa!” I almost shout. “You do realize you have more cars at Sixteen than most people have throughout their entire lives, right?”

“It’s not like I ask for them.” She snaps. “Okay, the Chevelle, yes, but nothing else. My dad just bought me those.”

“I know, Kota. I didn’t mean anything by it,” I say gently as I hold my hands up in surrender. “I was ju-“

“Whatever,” she cuts me off as she walks over to her Chevelle and lifts the hood, stares into if for a few seconds then without warning, slams the hood down, causing me to jump as she storms into the house.

After I collect myself I fallow her. The house is huge, by far the biggest on the lake. The Anderson’s are quite possibly the richest people in the state.

Suddenly the house is flooded with music coming from Kota’s bathroom. I run up the stairs and down the hall to the door, think about knocking then render it pointless being as she has her music blaring, and won’t be able to hear it.

I open the door to find her sitting on the edge of her bath tub trying to scrub off the grease stains she has form whipping her hands on her thighs. I walk over and turn down the music then go and sit down beside her. She’s scrubbing really hard.

“I can’t get it to come off,” she sniffles as she gives up and throws the wash cloth at the bottom of the tub, then runs her surprisingly grease free fingers through her sandy colored hair.

I pick the wash cloth up off the tub floor and turn her face towards mine to wipe off the grease she has no idea is there. “Talk to me, Kota,” I say softly, “What’s going on?”

“I broke Nate’s windshield today, Ash.” She says as she tries to stop her tears. “I don’t know why, I just got so mad. He makes me so bad, I,” her words get caught in her throat, “I just miss him, Ash. I miss him so much.” She finishes. She lets her head fall to my shoulder as she starts to cry harder.

“I know, Kota, but his windshield, really?” I say as gently as possible. “You couldn’t think of a better way to get your message across?”

Kota starts to mumble incoherently into my shoulder and I realize that I t would be completely pointless to talk to her until she’s calmed down. “Alright, come on. Let’s go to your room,” I say as I lightly slap her knee to get her moving. Reluctantly, she gets up and fallows me to her room where she immediately collapses on her bed, face down. “Kota, stop. You’re better than this,” I say as I try to get her to roll over and talk to me. I stand up straight, hands on my hips, trying to think of what to do. “Hey, um, Kota, if you’re just gonna lie there then I guess that means you wouldn’t mind if I took the Chevelle,” I say with a smile as I turn and take a few steps toward the door.

She shoots up, “Stay away from Ellie, you, you, you car-napper!”

“Car-napper?” I say with a raised eyebrow, “Whatever, like I could even make it out of the drive why with that thing. It would totally stall on me.”

“You just don’t know how to handle her.”

“That’s what he said,” I mumble.

“Hey, no jokes about Ellie, she’s special to me.”

“Kota, which one of you cars isn’t special to you?”

“Good point,” she says with a smile, “But Ellie’s my baby!”

I let out a sigh as I say “I’m aware.” Reluctant to say what I know I have to next. I can’t stand listening to her go on about hose stupid cars but for some reason they always seem to perk her up. I would gladly listen to her ramble as I pretend to listen if it means she’ll stop crying. “Okay, so could you just go through the list again, since I obviously have no idea which one to picture when you talk about them anymore?”

“Alright,” she says as he eyes light up, “Well, you know Ellie, so I’ll just skip her. Now there’s a car that look-“ she’s cut off by her phone ringing. I silently thank the caller for saving me form possibly the most torturous conversation of my life. “Hold on,” she says as she unplugs her cell from its charger on her bedside table, “Hello... Oh hey, Taylor… what? No I had no idea! Who would do such a thing... Tay, you know me better than that, why the hell would I damage such a beautiful car... Exactly, I wouldn’t…. Yeah, I’ll let you know if I hear anything… Yep… kbye.” She hangs up the phone and turn to me. “Don’t, Ashleigh.” She says, I must have been giving her a look. “Like I was really going to admit that I smashed his best friend’s windshield with a baseball. So not gonna happen.” She says, “Nate deserved it anyway.” She gets up off the bed and goes over to her huge walk in closet. “We’re going out tonight.” She shouts form somewhere in the back.

“It’s not even two yet!” I shout back.

“So,” she says, “Get your Debby Downer ass in here and pick out an outfit. We’re not going to have time for you to go home.”

“I roll my eyes, “Well, what about practice?” I ask.

“We’re skipping,” she says simply.

“And going where?” I ask as I walk into her closet to see her slipping on a pair of jeans.

She buttons them before she looks up at me, her mouth twisting into a mischievous grin, “Racing.”

Dakota Anderson


The faster I drive the less I feel. I’ve come to realize that over the last year. The faster I drive the less I think. The faster I drive the less I hurt, and my Chevelle, damn is she fast. I take curves going eight, speed down the highway at a hundred. This is all I need, some high speed therapy.

“Um, Kota, maybe you should slow down,” says Ashleigh as she clings to her seatbelt in horror. She’s right I should, not that I usually, but my driving is scaring my best friend. I slow down. "Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asks seeming rather annoyed. “I mean, we are missing practice for this.”

“I told you,” I say with a sigh, “We’re going racing.”

“And where is this racing taking place?”

“The blacktop,” I say flatly.

“The blacktop!” she shouts. “Kota, you do realize people die at the blacktop,” she asks, well states, putting a specific amount of pressure on the word die.

“Those people don’t know how to drive,” I say calmly.

“Okay, fine, what if you lose, huh?” she asks rather hysterically, “How are we going to get home.” She’s referring to the fact that if you lose the race you lose your car.

I let out a carefree laugh, “I won’t lose this car.”
***

The blacktop is a narrow road only used by those racing on it. The drivers use a dive bar parking lot for a mini car show. You pull in, lift up your hood, and wait for someone to challenge you.

“Kota, I don’t wanna be here. These people, they look.” She stops as a burly bold biker walks by with a skinny girl with a foot tall black and green Mohawk. Ashleigh gulps, “I just really don’t want to do this. Can we just leave, please?”

“No,” I say flatly as I turn off my car, pull the keys from the ignition, then slam the door as I get out. I look around to see tons of cars and even more people. I walk around to lift the hood.

“So, what,” says Ashleigh as she gets out of the car, “We just stand here ‘til one of these,” she pauses looking around, “People,” she finally spits out with distaste, “Asks you to race?”

I don’t answer, instead I look around, then I see it. It’s beautiful, and so is the boy standing next to it. “No,” I finally say. I can feel my mouth twisting into a grin as I turn to face Ashleigh, “I challenge him.” Her eyes grow wide with a look of panic. “Wait here.” I say as I start to walk toward the boy with a bright red Dodge Charger. I can already tell he’s a Paul Walker wannabe. Not that I’m complaining, he’s great to look at, but I have a feeling he’s going to have a too cocky attitude which is good for the race, but for me, later, it could be annoying

He sees me approaching and immediately changes his posture from hardcore bad ass, who’s going to steal someone’s car, too boy with a sweet smile who would just love to give me a ride.

“Hey,” he says with a smile as he takes my hand to shake it, “What can I do for you?”

I take my hand out of his. “Well, for starters, you could give me your car,” I say matching his sweet smile.

“Excuse me?” he half laughs.

“I pull my keys from my pocket and dangle them in mid-air, “Wanna race?” I ask with a kinked eyebrow.
***


“So what did he say?” asks Ashleigh as I walk back over to my car.

“We’re racing in five,” I say as I toss her the keys. “Start the car,” she does as I say as I stare down into the hood. “Alright, kill it.”

Ashleigh turns off the engine then walks around to stand by me. “So, question,” she says as she turns and leans against the front bumper.

“Shoot,” I say while reaching into tweak the engine.

“Was all this just to get the attention of a hot older guy who’s into cars and hooking up with random girls or is that just an added bonus?” she asks with a smile as she gently nudges my shoulder with her own.

“Added bonus,” I say looking up to smile back at her.

She shakes her head and lets out a little laugh. “Thought so,” she suddenly turns serious. “Are you sure you can beat him?”

“Positive, but on the off chance I don’t, you should probably text Brooke, or Leah to tell them where you are.”

“Okay,” she starts to pull out her cell phone. “Wait, you?” she asks confused, “Why not we?”

“I can’t lose this car.” I say casually as I close the hood.

“Kota!” she half whines in shock, “You wouldn’t.”

“Look, Ash, the way I see it, I was more than likely going to have sex with him anyway. At least this way it’s for a good reason.”

“A good reason?” she repeats. “Kota, it’s just a car!”

“Ashleigh,” I say as I turn to her, “I. Can’t. Lose. This. Car.”

“But, dude, he’s like twenty-five,” she whisper shouts as if that should really make a difference in the matter.

“Nah, I’d say twenty-three at most.” I smile trying to lighten the mood, and failing.

“Kota, come one, this is so wrong. Please don’t do this. It’s not worth it.” She says as she touches my shoulder.

I shrug her off and walk over to the driver’s side, “Fine,” I say as I open the door, “You remember how to drive stick right?”

“Yeah, but,”

“Good,” I say cutting her off. “Get in.”



\

















































Leah Hart


I’ve been at the diamond for almost an hour when Marlee and Whitney show up. They greet me with a nod, which I return, as Marlee grabs a ball, and then they head to play catch in the outfield. About ten minutes later Harlee pull in, a little bit after that Brooke and Rachel arrive together, and finally Carter. Having personally witnessed another classic Dakota Anderson melt down I assume this is all the girls that are showing up for practice today.

“Alright, ladies, bring it in!” shouts Brooke.

“Where’re Ash and Kota?” ask Carter once everyone meets at the pitcher’s mound, “I mean, they’re never late for practice.”

“They’re not coming,” says Brooke, voicing my thought. “Alright, I wan-“

“What do you mean they’re not coming?” interrupts Whitney.

“Ashleigh sent me a text saying that something came up, and they weren’t going to be able to make it,” she answers quickly, “Now as I was say-“

“Well that’s Ashleigh for ‘Kota got us into trouble, again. Tell everyone to look out for a text asking for a ridiculous favor, usually involving long drives, sketchy neighborhoods, crabby dive bars, and an all-night search for Miss Anderson and if the neighborhood isn’t too sketchy, her cloths.” says Marlee.

The second she’s finished Harlee adds “Sadly, the two tend never to be found in the same place”

“Hmm, yes, this is true, but it still doesn’t answer the remaining question,” says Marlee turning to face her sister, with a slight grin.

“You’re, right Mar, it doesn’t,” agrees Harlee matching her sisters expression. “The real question is,” Harlee continues

“What kind of trouble,” They say in unison heads snapping back to Brooke with matching grins. It always freaks me out when they do this, which, thankfully is not very often. Harlee and Marlee are like the real life versions of the devil and angle that sit on shoulders in bad comedies. Lucky for all of us, they usually are too busy hating each other to be civil long enough to hold a conversation like this.

“None of your business,” says Brooke, “Not that I want to ruin this very rare moment of non-hostility between you two but stop it, you’re creeping everybody out.”

Oh thank goodness, it’s not just me.

“What moment?” The twins say together. “We don’t have moments.” They speak again.

“Stop it!” They yell turning back to each other.

“Okay,” Brooke says rolling her eyes, “Can we please get back to-“

“The fact that Ashleigh and Dakota aren’t here wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Kota broke Nate Coy’s windshield this morning would it?” asks Rachel with a smirk.

That evil little b****, how the hell does she know everything?

“What?” asks Whitney.

I look towards Carter to see her uncomfortably run her hands through her long curly brown hair. She sighs as she throws her arms out from her sides, “Nothing,” she shoots Rachel a warning glare, which of courses Rachel will ignore.

“It was Kota?” ask Harlee and Marlee together, then turn to give each other a dirty look.

“Yeah,” Rachel says excitedly, “And she-“

“Didn’t mean to” I interject, “I was there, it was an accident.” Rachel just shoots me a glare, which I happily return.

“Okay, now that that’s settled can we please get back to practice?” asks Brooke, no one says anything, “Great, thanks. Alright, I want Harlee to move to second, Rachel to third, and Carter you’re at bat. Everyone okay with that?” she pauses for a millisecond. “Yes, Miss Captain, whatever you say,” she answers herself, “Awesome, let’s go.” She turns rolling her eyes as she walks to first before anyone can say anything else.









































Carter Grace


I pick Kylee up form day care and take her home to find Whitney sitting on my front steps. She stands as we approach. “Hi Aunt Winnie!” yells Kylee as she runs up to Whit.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Whitney picks Kylee up to give her a hug, “Hi, Carter.”

“Hey, Whit, what are you doing here?” I ask.

“Well, I was,” she pauses to take a breath. “I was just wondering if we could talk, you know, about,” she glances at Ky, “Everything.”

“Um, yeah,” I say, not knowing what else to do, “Sure, come in.”

Once in the house I leave Whitney in the kitchen to take Kylee to bed. When I come back down stairs I see Whitney looking around the living room, lingering on the pictures that hang on the walls and sit on the end tables. Her features grow darker as she moves form one smiling picture of Kylee to another.

I clear my throat before speaking, Whitney jumps, standing up straight and turning to face me. “So, whatcha need to talk about?” I ask, forcing cheeriness as best I can. I walk to the fridge and take out two bottled waters handing one to Whitney before we sit at my small kitchen table.

“My brother,” she states. Straight down to business I see, “And Kylee.”

I let out a sigh, “Look, Whit, if Zach wants to see Kylee then he can come and talk to me, otherwi-“

“Carter,” she speaks softly, as she reaches out to touch my hand. “First of all, though I told him I would try, I’m not here just to speak on my brother’s behalf. Mostly I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she looks around the small first floor of my home with a distasteful look on her face, I can help but to feel a little ashamed and embarrassed, “here.” She finally finishes.

“We manage,” I say flatly.

“What kind of manage?” she asks. “Manage as you’re sittin’ pretty, you just don’t want to brag, or manage as in you’re barely getting by, you just don’t want me to worry?”

I shrug.

Whitney tilts her head, “Carter?” she prompts.

I sigh and turn away from her, “Isn’t the answer rather obvious?”

“Carter!” she whines, “You know you don’t have to do this alone. Please come to us. My family and I are all here for you.” She says squeezing my hand.

“Whit, come on,” I say trying to reason with her, “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” she asks as she sits up straight, obviously offended.

“Your brother for one,” I say. “Zach said he didn’t want anything to do with us. He said I should’ve listened to my parents. He said I should’ve had an ab-“

“I know what he said, Carter.” She says, “But you didn’t see him the other night. You didn’t talk to him. God, Car he hates himself for what he said. For missing so much of Ky’s life already, and my parents can’t stand that they never see her. Carter, don’t you realize that besides Zach, I’m the only one she recognizes? I have three other brothers, Carter. Kylee has three uncles she doesn’t even know about, grandparents she won’t recognize, and father she hasn’t seen in how long?”

“And that’s my fault?” I ask angrily.

“No,” she says shaking her head, “God, no, not at all, it’s just that, you know Zach. He’d never ask you for another chance. No matter how bad he wants one. Especially when…” she trails off.

“When he’s sleeping with Kota,” I ask eyebrow raised.

“You know,” she slumps down in her chair and starts playing with her water bottle.

“Whitney, I don’t care who he sleeps with.” She gives me a skeptical look, “Okay, so that’s kind of a lie, but mostly I just want to know that I can trust him with my daughter.”

“You know you can.” She says, “Oh, and you shouldn’t be wasting your money on day care, my mother would love to have Kylee to herself all day,” she adds with a smile.

“I know, but.” I can’t bring myself to admit it.

“Zach,” Whitney finishes for me. I just nod. “I’ll pick her up in the morning, then drop her off after practice. You’ll never have to see him.”

“Fine,” I say as I let out a sigh, “I have to work tomorrow morning at 7:00, so you should probably be here to pick her up at 6:30.”

“Seriously?” Whitney searches my face, “I mean it couldn’t possibly be that easy.”

“Would you like me to change my mind?” I ask with a teasing smile.

“No, not at all, 6:30 it is.” She says as she gets up from the table and heads for the door.

“Whit,” I call just before she leaves, “This is his last chance.”

“You don’t have to worry, Carter” she says as she opens the door, “He’s not going to screw this up. I won’t let him.”





























Marlee Walker


“Harlee, come on, get out, please, I do have a date you know!” I shout as I pound on our bathroom door.

The door suddenly swings open, “Your point?” mumbles my twin sister with a mouth full of tooth paste, her toothbrush hanging out the side of her mouth.

“That I need to get ready,” I say as I cross my arms.

Harlee leans forward to spit into the sink, carefully holding her long freshly straightened dyed black hair back with her hands. I look her up and down. She’s wearing a perfectly cut up red and black EVH Football tee shirt with a short denim mini skirt, black legging, and tall black heeled boots. “Oh, do you now?” she says turning to me. Her make-up is done to “Harlee approved perfection,” as the Silver girls refer to it. The flawless sun kissed skin on her face is lightly covered in foundation that hides the freckles dotting her nose, eyes heavily covered in eyeliner and eye showed with smokey eye design, and eye lashes as long and thick as always. She looks stunning. I realize as my eyes settle on her lightly glossed lips that her mouth is twisted into an evil grin. Crap.

Harlee slams the door in my face. “Dammit, Harlee! Seriously, open the door.” I shout as I start pounding on it again.

“La la la, I can’t hear you!” she sing-songs form the other side.

“Ugh, you’re so immature!” I shout, “Please, open up. I’m going to be late.”

“Okay, okay. I won’t deny Joshy the wonderful blessing of your company.”

“Thank you.” I say as I take a step back.

I hear a click. She wouldn’t.

“Oopsie!” she says in an innocent voice, “I think I locked it.”

She would.

“Harlee!” I whine, “Please, this is ridiculous. You’re acting like a child.”

She opens the door, “I try,” she says as she walks out of the bathroom, slapping my but as she passes. “So what do you and Mr. Perfect Eiden Valley High quarterback Josh Wilkes have planned for tonight?” she asks turning to lean against the wall. “You actually gonna give it up? Swipe the V-card? Ride the hobby horse? Get slipped the hot beef inject-“

“Harlee!” I shout again.

“Yes?” she says with a sweet smile.

“Must you be so… vulgar?” I ask trying to control my temper as I start to do my make up

“Oo, big word.” She says narrowing her eyes at me. “I bet Josh just loves when you talk like that around him. Normally people, speak very slowly and use small words when with him. I bet you make him feel smart, even though I doubt he understands what you’re saying.”

“Josh is smart,” I argue, applying a thin line of eyeliner to my eyes, “He gets straight A’s”

“Which, of course, has nothing to do with the fact that he’s the star quarterback and has to keep at least a B average to start. The teachers totally curve his grades and you know it.”

“So, what do you care? You could pass any subject while sleeping. Why do his grades bother you?”

“They don’t,” she says, “It just makes me wonder.”

“Wonder what?” I ask unscrewing my mascara brush from the tube.

“Why you would waste your time on someone so pathetic.” She says while inspecting her nails. “I mean I’ve run through all the possibilities I can think of and –“

“Your point, please, Harlee” I say interrupting her again as I slowly drag the mascara brush over my lashes.

“I was getting there,” she says, I can hear the evil smirk in hear voice. If I wasn’t doing my make- up I’d roll my eyes. “Now, since he’s a douche I can only think of a couple reasons why you would be with him.” She starts continuing to inspect her nails. After a few seconds of silence I realize the b**** is actually going to make me ask.

“Well,” I prompt putting the mascara away.

“Sex, but you’re not putting out, so that’s not it.” I roll my eyes as I dig in a drawer for a hair brush. “Two is you’re just so insecure you need a guy like that to boost your confidence, but if that was true you would’ve gone down on him by now, so that leave only one explanation.”

“That I, oh I don’t know, actually care about him.” I say as I run the brush through my long blonde hair.

Harlee lets out an amused chuckle. “No, no, no, my dear sister.” She pauses for a second waiting for me to look at her, so I do, “Status,” she says simply.

“Status?” I repeat.

“Yes, he’s the quarterback so it’s obviously status.”

“I’m a cheerleader who’s in dance, Harlee. I don’t need status.”

“Do you seriously think I’m that naive, Mar?” she asks as she steps up behind me plugging in the straightener and turning it to the setting I like. “You’re a cheerleader for the same reason all the other Silvers are in school activities. I mean, do you honestly think that any of us would be in sports or clubs if it wasn’t for the fact that we had to make up for the fact that we’re ‘traitors.’ With the exception of Kota and soccer, and you and Whitney with dance, none of us really have something we care about as much as softball. You do it for the same reason you’re dating Josh, it makes your life at Eiden easier.”

“Really?” I ask suddenly angry, “Then why is he with me?” I say turning to face my sister, “If being a Silver is tarnishing my reputation so much then why the hell is he with me?”

“There are two possibilities,” she says forcing me to turn around before picking up a hair clip to pin up the top layers of my hair then picking up the straightener.

“And those are?” I ask as I watch her straighten my hair in the mirror.

“He doesn’t care what people think, either because you’re hot, or he genuinely cares about you, or” She pauses meeting my eyes in the mirror before saying “He just wants to bang you.”

“Excuse me?” I practically shout then instantly regretting it when the hot flat iron grazes the back of my neck.

“Calm down, Mar,” Harlee says as she sets down the straightener and moves my hair to inspect the burn, “You had to see that coming.” She pauses, “You’ll live by the way, it’s not even going to leave a mark.” She says before picking up the straightener and going back to work.

“Why is that a reason?” I ask not sure if I really want to know the answer.

“According to the Eiden Valley rumor mill you’re the only virgin left on Silver Lake.”

“What about Ashleigh?” I ask, “As far as that stick is shoved up her ass, she makes the rest of us look like skanks.”

“Slut by association?” Harlee says with a shrug as she lets down the next layer, “One of the major downfalls of being best friends with The Dakota Anderson.”

“Leah?”

“Will flirt with anything that moves.” She says as she tilts her head, she reaches up and takes out the clip holding my hair up. Once it falls she moves it around a little. “Leave it like that. I like it better.” I look at the two of us in the mirror; we look like we stepped out of one of those good-girl-gone-bad after school specials, Harlee with her bad girl straight black hair and heavy eye make-up, me looking like the good girl with my bouncy blonde locks and bubble gum pink lips, and suddenly I become angry with her. How dare she make fun of me for being a virgin? She’s one too.

I turn around. “What about you?” I ask, “Not like you’ve ever hooked up with a guy. So how can anyone possibly think you’ve had sex unless,” I pause, “Oh no, Harlee, did someone finally catch you in the band room with-“

“Shut up” she growls as she comes chest to chest with me.

“What hit a soft spot did I?”

“At least I’m not getting used.”

“Stop it,” I snap as I shove her away, “Josh love’s me whether I have sex with him or not. He’s a good guy, and he loves me.

“But do you love him?” Harlee says eyes suddenly sympathetic. “I’m not trying to fight, Mar. I just think you deserve better.” She says before turning to leave the bathroom.



















Dakota Anderson


“So, how do I get my car back?” asks the boy I just beat in the race. It was a blow out really. And they say teenagers can’t drive. Idiots.

We’re standing outside the car parked on some lonely back road that seems as if no one has driven on it in years.

“Oh,” I start to play with the caller of his shirt as he leans up against the car, “I’m sure we can work something out,” I bit my lip and look up at him through my eye lashes.

“I’m sure we can,” he whispers as he slides his hands to my hips, “So what’s your name, anyway, baby?”

“Why don’t we keep it anonymous?”

“If that’s what you want,” he says as he leans down to kiss me. I let him, after a while he moves to my neck. I don’t object. When he pulls away again he nods towards the back seat. I reach behind him and open the door in reply.

We continue to make out once we’re in the car. This is moving fat to slow. I have never been a face of foreplay. I tug at the bottom of his tee shirt. He doesn’t get the hint, so I take off mine, then tug at his again.

Two pairs of shoes, a couple pairs of jeans, a bra, thong, and pair of boxers, we’re naked in the back seat of a Dodge Charger.
***

“Kota, what the hell?” says Ashleigh as she gets up from my front steps and starts to walk towards me once I hop out of the car, and the boy drives off.

“What?” I ask. “I already have a Charger.” I say then start walking to my house.

“Yes, ‘cause the fact that you let the strange guy drive off with the car you won is exactly what I’m angry about,” she says sarcastically, “It has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been refusing to answer your phone, after leaving hours ago with a guy you just met at a sketchy bar.” She steps in front of me, arms crossed and eyes shooting daggers, demanding an explanation. I move to step around her.

“Whatever,” I mumble as I pass.

“That’s seriously all you’re going to say to me?” she asks

“Yes,” I say as I turn to face her, “I’m tired, hungry, and I feel like I’m in a serious need of a shower.”

“Ya think,” she says causing me to flinch

“Whatever, Ash, if you’re just going to b****, can you do it in the morning, I really don’t have time for this,” I say turning to go inside.

“God, you really don’t get it do you?” venom fills her words. I flinch again.

I sigh and continue to walk in the direction of my front deck.

“Kota!” she shouts, “Dammit! Could you at least tell me what the hell you were thinking?” I ignore her and climb my front steps, “Dakota Nichole Anderson, answer me!”

I spin around to find her at the bottom of the steps. I walk down them to stand in form of her, “You really wanna know what I was thinking, Ashleigh?” I yell as my eyes begin to well with tears, “Okay, I was thinking, what’s the point? I was thinking that whatever happened in that car tonight would be better. Whether it would be hooking up with a total stranger, which is what it was, or if I would end up dead on the side of the road, it would have to be better than this, feeling this way! I can’t take it! I feel nothing all the time! It’s like I’m stuck in a black hole and I hate it!” I pause my breath rattling as I wipe away my tears, “God, Ash, you think I don’t know I’m a slut?” I sniffle, my emotions effecting my voice, “You think I don’t know that that guy could’ve been come psychotic freak?” my voice breaking on the last word, “Well, I do. I do know these things, Ashleigh. I just don’t care.” I finish as my chest heaves and a wave of self-pity floods my body. I take a step back, “You know what, just leave. I don’t know you here.” I cross my arms over my chest trying to appear strong.

Ashleigh takes a step forward, “Kota, I-“

“Just go!” I shout, the immediately feel sorry, “Ash, please,” tears start to spill over my checks, “Leave.”

“No,” she says as she closes the space between us and wraps me in a hug, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dakota Anderson


We had our first game today. We won, twelve to three. Surprisingly, we we’re almost perfect. Leah shook in her cleats all the way through the first inning, but her nerves didn’t last long.

Tonight there is a party to celebrate our win. As usual, Torey and Taylor’s parents are out so the party is at the Rydel’s

“Hey, Kota, great game.” Someone shouts as I walk in. I hear those words about a million times before I reach the kitchen. The island in the middle is covered in alcohol and soda. I fix myself a drink, then go to lose myself in the crowd.

The house seems to be vibrating form the bass of the music, and before I know it my drink is gone. It doesn’t take long for a boy to offer to get me another one. He’s cute. I recognize him form school. I think his name is Tristan. Maybe I’ll go home with him.

He tries to talk to me but I grab his hand and pull him to where a bunch of people are dancing. We drink and dance, laugh and make out. And each time my drink is empty he goes to get me another one. I know what he’s doing. He’s good at it. Most girls wouldn’t have noticed. He’s getting me drunk. Not that he needs too. He’s cute. I’d sleep with him regardless.

“Kota!” shouts Brooke over the music, “Come with me.” She says as she puts her arm around my waste and leads me away. I’d protest but I’m a little too drunk. Bye-bye boy. I think as I look over my shoulder at him.

Brooke takes me to one of the Rydel’s many bathrooms. “You okay?” she asks sounding concerned.

I nod before swallowing the last little bit of my drink, and then frowning at the bottom of the empty cup. I wasn’t done yet.

“Alright, but hey, I’m not drinking tonight so, tell me when you want to leave and I’ll take you home. We can’t lose any more players, “Okay?”

I nod again. Brooke sighs and puts her hand on my shoulder while shaking her head; she then walks out of the bathroom. I fallow. When I get into the hall I see Nate. He’s being yelled at by his girlfriend. He’s ignoring her. His eyes find mine. He smiles. I smile back. His girlfriend fallows his gaze. Once her eyes land on me she shoves Nathan into the wall, yells at him a little more, then throws her drink in his face, before walking away.

That’s terrible, I think to myself as I go over to him, what a waste of alcohol. I grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom Brooke and I just left. Once we’re inside I shut the door and hand him a towel.

“Thanks,” he says with a smile before wiping off his face.

“No problem,” I mumble. We just stand there for a few second, not speaking. Not sure if we should.

“You’re probably wondering what that was about,” he says. I wasn’t. I don’t care to hear about his girlfriend troubles.

I shrug.

“Well, I couldn’t tell you. She just came up and started yelling at me,” he shakes his head and lets out a half-hearted laugh. He looks around the room until his eyes settle on the door opposite to the one we came in. It’s a bedroom. We both know that, but he opens the door to check anyway. “Mind if we talk?” he asks turning back to me.

“I’d like that.”

Nate smiles and holds the door open gesturing for me to get first. It’s a large room, dark, quiet, good for talking.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, and Nate sits beside me. We look at each other for a moment then he smiles causing me to blush and look away. Then he starts talking about his girlfriend, Miranda. She plays softball for the school team. She hates me.

He talks but I don’t listen. I just nod my head every once in a while, knowing my replies aren’t needed. He’s only venting. I don’t mind. This gives me time to take him in. his short but shaggy brown hair, his bright blue eyes, his perfect tan an muscular body, he’s beautiful. I become so lost in his presents I didn’t even realize he stopped talking until I hear him take in a deep breath. As he lets it out he says, “God, I’ve missed you, Kota.”

“Huh?” I say snapping out of my trance.

“I said, I miss you,” he leans closer, smiling as his hand raises to move my bangs out of my eyes. He cups my check in his palm. His gaze leaves mine and drops to my mouth, my lips. He’s going to kiss me. My stomach turns. My heart flips, but this is wrong. Even half wasted I know this is wrong.

“Nate, I” he cuts me off with a soft sweet kiss that sends my head spinning and causes me to lose my breath.

He starts to pull away but I take hold of his shirt and pull him back with me as I lay down on the bed. I feel him smile under the kiss and it makes me smile too. I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve never felt so much, so alive, with anyone else. I get more pleasure out of simply kissing Nathan than any other boy has given me by doing so much more.

Nate starts to slide his hand under my shirt and suddenly it hits me.

He just got in a fight with his girlfriend. A girlfriend whom he may or may not still be dating. I’m the rebound girl. The rebound girl who may or may not be helping him cheat on his girlfriend.

I push him away.

“What’s wrong?” his breath is heavy.

“I,” tears start pooling in my eyes, “I can’t do this. It’s just not right,” I get up and start heading for the door, “I’m sorry.”

‘Kota,” Nate says not leaving the bed, “Is this about my windshield? You don’t need to worry about it, I’m not mad, I understand. Just come back over he-“

“No, Nate,” I open the door, “I just can’t.” I whisper as I walk back into the party to try and find Brooke so she can take me home.

I look all over but I can’t find her anywhere. I walk outside, heading for my car. I feel sober or at least sober enough to drive home. Once I get to my street I feel slightly better, so instead of pulling into my drive I head to the lake’s playground.

Once there, I park my car and head straight for the jungle gym. I walk under it, jump up, and grab the highest set of bars, pulling myself up. Hooking my legs on one of the bars I let myself all back so I can hang upside down, my fingertips touching the little rocks coving the ground.

I close my eyes and suddenly I’m seven years old. I just bet Leah that I could hang upside down longer than anyone else at the park. So she’s timing me as I hang here. I look over to the right and notice a boy playing football with Taylor and his friends. As if he could sense me looking he turned to look at me. He saw that I was staring and smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back.

I suddenly become very dizzy, my stomach starts to flip, my head rushes, and the entire park is spinning. Before I can even register what’s happening I fall landing flat on my back. I close my eyes as the blood leaves my head.

“Are you okay?” someone asks after a few seconds. I open my eyes to see the boy leaning over me with a concerned frown.

I smile, but didn’t move to get up. I go to tell him I’m fine but no words come out. So I just nod.

“Good,” he says as she holds out his hand to help me up. I take it and let him pull me to my feet.

“Thanks,” I say finally finding my voice.

“No problem,” he says with a smile. I look in his face to see a blue I’ve seen many times but never is someone’s eyes.

“You’re eyes match my ring!” I say holding out my hand to show him the present my mom gave me for my seventh birthday. She said the ring had my birth stone in it. She called it sapphire.

“Cool,” he says excitedly, “My names Nate. What’s yours?”

“Kota?”

“Hm?” I say not really paying attention.

“What are you doing here?” asks Zach, he sounds like he’s getting closer.

“Thinking,” I say without opening my eyes, “You?”

“Same,” he says flatly.

Neither of us say anything. We just let the silence of the night settle in. I start to get light headed so I open my eyes, swing forward, and grab a bar to pull myself up, sliding my legs down at the same time in one motion. Zach watches saying nothing to break the silence. I’m glad for this. I like the quiet. There are no surprises in silence. Silence is safe.

Zach and I have never actually had a conversation. I don’t think we could. I mean, where would we begin? We’re two teenagers having sex because it helps us feel numb. We don’t have feelings for each other. We don’t even know each other. I think I want to change that. “Zach,” I say, “Why do you love Carter?”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Why do you you love Nate?” he challenges.

“Honestly?” I say as I turn to look down at Zach, as he stands a few feet below me, “I don’t really know. It’s hard to explain. There’s like a bunch of little things, like, I love how he used to know exactly what to say to make me smile. I love how when I would cry, he’d pull me close and wrap his entire body around mine, like a security blanket. I love how he would kiss me on the forehead when I looked like I was having a bad day. I love how he would make my plate when I ate at his house, and how he would take it when I was finished even though I repeatedly asked him not too. I love how when he touches me I feel like I’m on fire but it still gives me the chills. I love listening to him sing nod how he would look into my eyes like he was singing just for me. If I were to list it all, I’d go on for hours. I love it all, even the bad stuff but mostly, I love how he made me want to do better, to be better, and how he understood when I didn’t. How it seemed like he like me better when I was good yet paid more attention to me when I wasn’t. he would save me, keep me from making mistakes. He would swoop down like so sort of super hero to save me from myself. Then one day, everything was different. One day he didn’t swoop in and save the day. Maybe that’s why I keep getting into trouble. I’m just waiting for a super hero who’s gotten bored with saving me.”

“Kota,” Zach says with a slight chuckle. “as much trouble as you get yourself into, no one could ever get bored.”

“Nate did,” I say with a defiant nod as I stare up at the night sky.

Zach walks over to the jungle gym and pulls himself up beside me, “Did you ever consider that maybe Nate is just waiting for you to save yourself?” he ask, but before I can reply Zach leans forward to kiss me, but instead of kissing my lips like I suspect he kisses my forehead. “I know it’s not the same,” he whispers, “But it’s the best I can do.”

There it is, the perfect moment. One of those would be oh-maybe-I-do-actually-love-the-guy-I’ve-been-having-casual-sex-with moments. To bad I felt nothing more than gratitude. No spark. No shiver. No flame. No chill. No nothing. Just comforted.

“So, what about Carter?” I ask genially as I slide my hand down his thigh.

He sighs, putting his arm around me to pull me closer. “She’s the mother of my daughter, Kota. What else can I say? Just that fact alone make me see her as perfect, more than perfect. Even though I saw her as perfect before that. Seriously Kota, just watch her one day. Watch her play. Watch her with Ky. She just oozes perfection.”

“That’s not really fair, Zach,” I say with out thinking.

“What’s not fair?”

“You put her on a pedestal. Yeah, Carter’s probably the most amazing person I’ve ever met, but to say that she’s perfect is like asking her to disappoint you”

“That’s the thing. She didn’t disappoint me. I just couldn’t handle it. Being a father. It just go to be too much. But Carter, she never let it get to her, and that bugged me. It was like, I’m the man. I should be able to take car of her and Ky, not the other way around. Carter would never complain. She had to go through so much. The kids at school talking s***, school work it’s self, her parents disowning her, her job, me. Where as my reputation was fine. Kept up with school easily, and my parents were completely supportive. Yet I never stopped complaining. I would whine and mope about nothing. Seeing her stay so strong and put together just, I don’t know. I was jealous. I couldn’t take it and I left.”

“Okay,” I say, “So you left not because it was to much for you, but because you felt Carter’s strength made you seem like less of a man.” I say, “Wow.”

“Yeah,” says Zach. “Lame, I know.”

“Well,” I say not sure how exactly I’m going to say this, “Maybe if you just talked to her, told her everything you just told me, maybe you could get her back.”

“I don’t deserve her, or Kylee for that matter,” he says hanging his head. He runs his hand through his short blonde hair. “I’m not good enough.”

“Ya know when my mom.” I pause. I’ve never told anyone this, not the truth. My dad said it would be better if we just told everyone she left. Just moved out and left us. “When my mom killed herself last year she left a note. She said she did it because she didn’t feel good enough for us. For me and my father, but if she was here, if I could talk to her, I would say that ther’s no one better. That no one could take her place. That, at least to me, she was perfect.” I look up to the sky again and let out a sigh as I brush my hair out of my eyes. I try to hold back my tears, “Zach, maybe you’re not the best guy in the world, or even the best guy for Carter, but you are Kylee’s dad. That’s all she’ll ever want you to be. You owe it to her to be there and to Carter too.”

Zach just nods and pulls me closer again. He kisses the top of my head and whispers, “God, Kota, what are we doing?”

“Trying to dull the pain,” I shrug, we’re both crying. I turn to Zach and wipe away his tear, then my own.

He forces a laugh, “Well, that’s going well,” he says sarcastically.

“Amazing, right?” I laugh

We don’t say anything for awhile, Zach breaks the silence with, “Kota, I think that was our first actual conversation. Ever. We’ve been hooking up for what, three months and we never had a conversation, until now. That has to be some kind of record.”

“Sad, huh?”

“Very.”

“So,” I say, “Now what?”

“No idea,” he says as he jumps form the jungle gym to the ground, “How about we make a deal?” he says as he reaches out his hand to help me down.

“What kind of deal?” I ask as I take his hand and jump down.

“How about we talk instead of hook up from now on?” he suggest as he puts his arm around my shoulder and steers me towards my car.

I burst out laughing “Yeah, I’m sure that’s going to lat long,” I say as I playfully push him away.

He pulls me close again, “Okay, okay, how about we start over then?”

“Start over?”

“Yeah, like, let’s go on a date.”

“Alright,” I say before I can back out. “A date would be nice. Now I should really get home,” I say once we get to my car.

“Is that an invitation?” Zach asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Goodnight, Zach,” I say as I open my door then go to get in.

“Kota,” Zach says as he pulls me back to him. He kisses me, like really kisses me. Not our usual, hurried kiss, but a nice, sweet kiss. “Good night,” he whispers once we pull apart. He smiles turning to walk towards his truck.

I fall back against my car, trying to figure out what the hell I did to deserve a night as confusing as this.