“You can’t go to the game like this. We need to sober you up.” Cason grabs me by the arm, but I push him off. I don’t need to feel it all again. He just doesn’t understand.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s just go.” I walk through the door, leaving my bag and its ruined contents sitting in a wet heap on the floor.
I’m not going to make it through this.
My game is off. Who am I kidding? My entire fucking life is off. But my game is fucking trash tonight. Seems to be the theme lately.
Coach calls a time out, and I can’t blame him. His star player is about to heave vodka all over his court, but he doesn’t know that. All he knows right now is that I’m failing at basketball.
“Dude, can you keep it together through the rest of the game?” Cason hisses as he jogs up beside me. “We can’t let this wimpy-ass team beat us.”
“Callaway what is going—why the hell do you smell like a bar? Have you been drinking, son?” Coach asks when I jog up next to him in the huddle.
“I’m good Coach,” I say out of breath. Running, sweating, and vodka don’t mix.
“The hell you are. You’re greener than the broccoli my wife packed in my lunch!” he hollers.
“I’m good,” I say through gritted teeth. The fact that I can’t even get basketball right only makes the pain inside worse. I need to be able to do something right.
“Son, there is nothing good about the way you smell right now,” Coach says. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but bench it, Callaway.”
“Coach! No way,” Cason argues.
“Cap it, Cruise. I don’t need you two trying to tag team me. My decision is final,” Coach says.
“It’s cool,” I raise my hands and head to the bench with several complaints being heard from the crowd. I can’t be out there failing the team too. I grab a towel and a bottle of water as I wash off the stench of cheap vodka seeping out through my pores. I run the towel through my sweat-laden hair just as I catch some movement out of the corner of my eye. Mira passes through the gym doors. The hair stands up on my body.
Narni said Fallon was talking to Jordan and Mira. Holy fuck! Why didn’t I think about Mira before now?
I take off running and follow Mira through the double doors.
“Jesse?” I hear Cason call out my name right before the doors slam shut behind me.
I don’t stop. Something urges me to follow her, so I do. I look around, and I find her retreating down the hall, so I take-off in her direction until I’m jogging towards her.
“Mira!” I call out, “Mira, Wait.”
She freezes in the middle of the hall and slowly turns to face me as I catch up to her. There is fear in her eyes, and I haven’t even started. When her face pales I know right then I should’ve questioned her before now. I might’ve found Fallon if I had.
“You were there that night, weren’t you? At the party. You spoke to her,” I say as I step into her space slowly.
“What? I—I don’t know.” Mira stutters as she backs away from me. She’s nothing more than a scared child in this moment. The stench of fear practically wafts off her in waves. But what is there to be afraid of if she’s done nothing wrong?
“People saw you. They saw you talking to her. Do you know what happened to her? Tell me what you know,” I beg as I walk towards her, reaching out to grab her shoulders.
She has to know something. Anything. She has to help me find Fallon.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“Yes, you were. People saw you talking to her. You were her friend, Mira—how could you not help her?” I ask, the desperation, frustration and anger leaking out of me.
Why doesn’t she understand that I need to find her?
“Jordan talked to her. Jade was sick, but then I left. I drove Narni home because she was upset. I swear I don’t know anything else. You’re hurting me,” Mira cries out.
“Let her go, Jesse. She doesn’t know anything.” Cason grips both of my arms and I blink. I don’t know how it happened, but I’d backed Mira up against the lockers with both hands gripped around her upper arms. I jerk back and look at her. She looks terrified. I don’t blame her.
“Go, Mira. I’ll take care of him,” Cason says.
Mira slides across the lockers, slowly putting space between us. As soon as she’s out of arm’s reach, she turns and runs.
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Cason asks as he shoves me. “You can’t be attacking girls on school property.”
“Yeah,” I say. I begin walking away towards the nearest exit. I need to get out of here. I need to clear my mind.
“Where are you going?” Cason calls out as I keep walking. “Jesse?”
“I need a minute,” I yell before I begin jogging away. Away from it all.
I need air. Nah, I need vodka. Who the fuck am I kidding? I need her.
I lean back against Jesse’s shoulder after a satisfying . . . swim. We always end up on the side of the lake just watching the water, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I mostly think about the future; namely, what our future together looks like. I don’t reflect on the past because my present is, for once, happier.
Jesse’s hand caresses my thigh. If I had to guess, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Surprisingly, Jesse is a toucher. If I’m near him, he is touching me in some way or form. He doesn’t notice, but I do. I will always notice his touch—it’s electrifying for me. But it’s also reassuring. It tells me he isn’t leaving. It’s comforting to know he’s always there. And somehow, he subconsciously knows I
