Grabbing his chest feigning pain, “You wound me. You want to exercise some demons with sex, you find me, Tennie Girl.”
A pain slices through my heart, “That’s what my Mom used to call me,” I say sadly.
“I’m sorry, I won’t say it again.”
“No, I think I like when you say it,” I insist, faking a smile. I do like that he uses the nickname but the moment is surreal with memories of my mom saying the same thing.
“So, tell me about teenage Kohl Black,” I ask trying to take the focus off me.
“Teenage Kohl was a big ass dork.”
Faking shock, “You mean you weren’t always this handsome man sitting next to me?”
I can’t believe he wasn’t always a lady killer. Perhaps he understands my inner turmoil more than I give him credit for.
“Fuck no. I was all arms and legs. My body grew so fast I didn’t have any coordination for years. I was all knees and elbows, unable to control any of it. I had acne and no matter how much I ate, I couldn’t bulk up.”
“God, I wish I had that problem,” I mumble under my breath. He’s so lucky, that would be one of my wishes if I was granted three by a magic genie. To be able to eat whatever I want and still have a kick ass body without having to exercise serious fat girl nirvana. I was struggling to picture a lanky, unattractive version of Kohl, I think even with skinny arms and zits I would have still melted and hidden behind a book when he was around.
“So, what changed? If you were this huge weirdo, how did you become the slightly less weirdo standing before me.”
“You’re not impressed by my stellar weirdness? I mean, come on, I make all this look good,” he boasts, his blue eyes lighting in delight waggling his dark eyebrows.
“Hmmm . . . I guess it’s a good look on you. I mean you’re not Sloth from the Goonies hot but not everyone can be that magnificent,” I shrug, shyly smiling loving his shocked expression.
“Sloth? Oh man, you’re right, no one is that easy on the eyes,” he jokes.
“Now continue your story. You were the ugly duckling, how did you become the swan?”
“I made Varsity my freshman year of high school, which is rare. The other guys on the team were great, they pushed me to use the weight room, taught me what foods to eat and supplements to take to help my body gain muscle. The acne faded while the muscle developed. By my senior year, I had girls throwing themselves at me. After being gangly for so many years, I took what they were offering. I sunk myself between every pair of legs that were willing to open for me. I was either practicing or fucking. It was all I wanted to do.”
“No serious girlfriend?”
“I didn’t want the distraction of a relationship. I knew I needed to get a scholarship to be able to go to college. My parents couldn’t afford to send me to a good school. My grades weren’t going to get me anywhere. Studying was never my strong suit. I used the girls for that too,” he confesses. “Flirting my way in with the smart girls, playing them to get them to do my work for me. I was a complete dick, but they gazed at me like I was a God because I could score 100 points in a game.”
“You used girls like me? Making them think you liked them so they would do your homework?” I ask feeling queasiness build in my stomach. “You made them feel special so that, when you were done, they had a broken heart and worse self-esteem issues? You left them wondering what was wrong with them? Is that what you’re doing now, Kohl? Is that why you are being nice to me?” I probe feeling my blood boil as memories of helping cute guys in high school take over my mind. The hope of acceptance and being liked that built within me only to be destroyed when they no longer needed my help and made me the butt of their jokes.
“No,” he roars running his hands through his hair, gripping tightly with both fists.
“I didn’t like that guy; I didn’t like what I was doing. I would have stayed friends with them but they wanted more than I was willing to give. I did what I had to do to get by. We lived in a Habitat for Humanity house. Both my parents worked their asses off to provide a life for us. When they noticed I had talent in basketball, my dad took on two jobs to be able to pay out the money to send me to the right camps and get the right training. Living paycheck to paycheck, wondering how they were going to buy food and keep the bills paid. I couldn’t throw away all their work and our nights of only having hot dogs to eat by failing my classes and ruining my chances for a scholarship. I never made those girls believe I was going to be any more than what I was. They offered, I took,” he says with a matter of fact tone.
“I’m not him anymore, Ten. I’m not just being nice to you to get something from you. I like you. I like hanging out with you, talking to you. I don’t need to be him anymore. I’ve learned some good study habits and I’m getting by. Yes, I need some help in some of my classes but I would never use you to get that help. The team offers tutors if you don’t want to help me that’s fine. I’ll just find other ways to spend time with you,” he says with a sly grin.
I believe him. I hate that he was that kind of person but there’s something in
