Special Episode: The Ache
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
I twist a strand of my red hair between my fingers, wondering if the field at school has ever looked quite like this before. If it ever had a crowd like this before. This many people crammed into the bleachers, this swept up in the excitement, so loud and enthusiastic, with this level of energy.
I’d guess the answer is probably no. I came to a game once before I was in high school, when Angie’s big brother was playing. I remember the bleachers mostly populated by the families of the players. There was also a loose cluster of students who had nothing better to do, only half paying attention. Our team didn’t win, but nobody really seemed to care that much either way. It was a pretty quiet afternoon.
I let my gaze travel over the field as it looks now. The night sky is pitch black above us, the moon and stars blotted out by thick clouds that release droplets of rain in drizzling flutters. The raindrops are briefly illuminated in the glow of the lights around the field, which make the field very bright but leave the bleachers untouched.
It’s not dark up here, though. All around me people are wearing the glow sticks in school colors that the student government handed out for the night game. With everyone laughing, talking, reaching for each other, working their way to their friends - all those little lights are moving.
Those aren’t the only signs of our school colors, either. T-shirts, jackets, hats, everyone is on theme. There are even some girls who did glittery eyeshadow and put bows in their hair to show off their newfound school spirit. The scoreboard is brilliantly lit and shiny, too, glittering in the rain. The school found the money to repaint it this year, apparently.
This game is bigger and more well-attended than any optional school-sponsored event I’ve ever been to, by a long shot. It’s a good thing we didn’t go home after school so we could get here early, because the bleachers are dealing with some overflow. People are moving off to either side to sit on the grass at the edge of the field instead. Not just on the Ketterbridge side, on the Greenrock side, too.
The combined noise of the crowd is a chaotic, constant roar. It’s to the point that I can’t hear what Kasey and Angie are talking about, and they’re right next to me.
I’m not really listening, anyways. I had to be dragged here, and I only wore school colors because I felt like at this point it would make me weirdly stand out if I didn’t. I’m probably standing out anyways, though. I’m the only one here who’s not feeling the spirit, and it definitely shows on my face, school colors or no.
Normally I’d be stoked to see so much collective enthusiasm for anything out of our high school, but a number of things are ruining it for me.
For one thing, we ended up seated across from a big, glowing, illuminated screen that’s been brought out just for the game. As a result I’m staring at a picture of the Ketterbridge High soccer team, with Aiden Callahan standing tall at the front of the phalanx of players, his muscled arms folded over his chest, his blue eyes glaring at me like they always do.
I’m trying not to look at the picture, but my eyes keep going back to it. Over and over again.
“Since when does our school take sleek, serious-ass, professionally shot promo pictures for the soccer team?” I complain, leaning over to Kasey. “They turned down our funding request when the nature club wanted to take a bus to the beach, but the soccer team gets-?”
“What?” Kasey shouts, cupping a hand around her ear. “Sorry, it’s loud as hell! Jesus, can you remember it ever being this noisy here?”
“I said - nevermind.” I flash her my best attempt at a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Kasey catches my cheek in her hand, then draws my head to hers until the sides of our faces are pressed together. “Speak to me, babe.”
“Really, it’s nothing.” I gently disentangle myself, turning my face away so she can’t see my expression. “I’m not trying to bring down the energy. It’s - it’s really nice to see everyone so excited.”
“Aw, Jamie…” Kasey’s dark eyes fill with sympathy. She reaches out to curl her cold fingers around my wrist, her breath puffing on the autumn air. “You look so… okay, listen, I know it sucks that this is basically all about him. But it’s also kind of fun, everyone all hype like this, isn’t it? I just didn’t want you to miss out, that’s why I made you come. But if you really want to go home, then whatever, let’s ditch this bitch! Angie’s got some vodka hidden in her closet. We should probably drink that before her mom finds it, anyways.”
I look at Kasey with grateful eyes, then shake my head.
“No, it’s okay. We should stay. I’m fine.” I let out a frustrated exhale, fidgeting with the zipper of my jacket. “I just think it sucks that he’s the most popular boy in school even though he’s also the worst. He's so mean, but everyone’s all ready to forgive him completely for that, just because he’s good at soccer.”
“I don’t think it’s just because he’s good at soccer,” Kasey says candidly, looking at the glowing picture on the screen. “Might not even be primarily because of that.”
She looks at me again, her fond eyes reflecting all the lights as she tucks an inky strand of hair out of her face.
“Aw. I know you’re bummed out, Jamie, but you look super cute. I’m glad you wore the colors. And let me paint them on your cheek.”
I fold my arms over my chest, trying not to hug myself forlornly. “Are all these people really here to see him play?”
“No, I think… all these people are here because the games are fun, all of a sudden.”
Yeah, she’s not wrong. That’s why she said before that this whole thing is basically about Aiden. Because he’s the one who caused that to happen.
I don’t think our soccer team was ever particularly great or terrible in the past. Nobody cared about it that much. Having a player as good as Aiden on the roster changed that dramatically. It got the rest of the boys on the team all fired up. They’ve all been practicing twice as hard and way more often. Even if they hadn’t, Aiden’s skills alone probably would have been enough to pull them up through the ranks.
More students started going to the games after our team suddenly started laying down huge thrashings. The school started posting more pictures from the games when that happened, so more Ketterbridge High students started turning up. Everyone was curious about whether or not our team’s sudden dominance was a fluke. We were waiting to lose our unprecedented winning streak, which made every game feel like a tight and tense one that nobody wanted to miss. The students really started turning out, and locals started coming, too, because small towns love a thing to rally around.
Maybe that’s why the other soccer teams started showing up with bigger crowds of their own. I guess people in Port Sitka and Mill Pond and Greenrock didn’t like the sound of their players getting sent here to take a brutal beating all alone. They started filling up the bleachers, too, until the games got big enough that food trucks started coming and the local news bothered to come out and cover them and it was starting to turn into an event every time. Small towns love an event, too. Any reason for everyone to get together and have a good time. And the games have become an undeniably good time.
I mean, I’d definitely be having fun if Aiden Callahan wasn’t involved. There’s an air of festivity to this game that’s usually reserved for New Year’s Eve. Looking out at the lights, listening to the noise and laughter, seeing the puffing of collective breath above the crowd on the chilly night air, feeling the palpable excitement all around us… I can totally see why Kasey didn’t want me to miss this.
It all makes me really wish I was having a good time. Or at least a neutral time, that would still be better.
“Just try to have fun,” Kasey says encouragingly, squeezing my wrist. “You should get to ride the wave of insane school spirit everyone’s on! Those have got to be unbelievably rare, right? Like, once in every two hundred generations of Ketterbridge High students?”
“True,” I laugh hoarsely.
“Yeah, so don’t let stupid Aiden Callahan take that away from you! Forget about him.”
“I’m trying, it’s just a little difficult when-”
Right as I gesture to the glowing screen, the picture swirls away, replaced with huge, shaking letters that spell out MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!!!!!!!!!
Normally such a request would get an outrageously sarcastic response from our student body. I don’t think there’s a single member of the faculty who would dare say that out loud to us. The heckling would be merciless.
Tonight it gets an answering roar as our soccer team bursts out onto the field.
Aiden Callahan leads everyone out, with Noah Raunier at his shoulder. Streaking onto the field with the wind fluttering through his chestnut hair, his jersey pulled slightly taut across his chest by his powerful shoulders.
Even right now, his cold blue eyes are glittering with a dark, stormy frown.
Nobody seems to care about that, though. The crowd is on their feet with excitement as Aiden leads the team out onto the field. The Greenrock side bursts to life with similar enthusiasm when their team comes trotting out to join ours.
Both teams look a little nervous, given the noise and the amount of people here. Aiden is the only one still all confidence, looking perfectly at ease.
Across the field, I spot a flash of blonde and locate Ralph Lanham in the crowd. He’s boldly smoking a cigarette a little ways off from the bleachers, as if there isn’t faculty all over the place who could catch him. Doing some business, too, it looks like. He quietly slips some folded cash into his jacket pocket while Grant keeps a lookout, but they both stop to watch as Aiden races past and the team fans out.
Even I can’t deny that there’s something mesmerizing about watching Aiden run. He’s got this unreal, effortless gracefulness, as if he knows he won’t fall no matter how fast he’s moving. And he moves fast. Everyone is already watching him.
Well, not me, I decide abruptly. I’m not watching him. Kasey’s right, I shouldn’t let him ruin the game for me. I’ll watch someone else. Ethan is super cute, and he’s playing tonight. I’ll just keep my eyes on him -
That line of thought is cut off as there’s a collective gasp from the crowd. My eyes dart over the field to find the ball soaring through the air off of an awkward kick from Noah, headed directly for a bunch of Greenrock players.
There’s a flash of movement, and suddenly Aiden has the ball. He brought it down to himself so fast I didn’t even see how.
It takes the crowd a second to catch up. Everyone only realizes what happened when Aiden is already racing across the field with the ball. There’s an immediate burst of excited noise, which Aiden doesn’t even seem to notice as he zig-zags through players in Greenrock jerseys.
The goalie comes rushing forward to meet him. Aiden starts in one direction, then does a swift, light-footed turn, twisting around and streaking off the other way. The goalie pulls up short, but too late. With a graceful, sweeping kick, Aiden sends the ball sailing through the illuminated rain, into an empty net.
“Holy shit!” Kasey sputters.
The crowd roars as the Greenrock goalie apologetically spreads his hands at his team. Noah comes sprinting over and says something to Aiden, grinning in relief, pink-cheeked from his mistake. Aiden, trotting backwards, slaps his arm without answering.
Panting a little, he tosses his rain-damp hair out of his face and looks up at the crowd, scanning it with his blue eyes. Probably looking for Melanie.
I hastily glance away, irritated at myself for failing so quickly. Come on, Jamie. Just watch Ethan instead. This isn’t hard.
It is kind of hard, though. Ethan is definitely nice to look at, but it’s impossible to follow the game without watching Aiden, the obvious driving force of our team. It quickly becomes clear that with him playing this is going to be another beatdown. Before the game is halfway over the Greenrock team looks exhausted, while the Ketterbridge team - and crowd - is picking up momentum and excitement.
All eyes are on Aiden. His body is trickling with sweat, his rain-wet hair falling in front of his eyes, his jersey streaked with bright green grass stains, but he hasn’t lost any calm or confidence or speed. His blue eyes are full of their usual blazing glare the whole time.
Time ticks down on the game clock as Aiden tears off towards the Greenrock goal again. Noah is sprinting up the field across from him. Aiden slows down a little, hanging back, then suddenly sends the ball flying to him.
Noah clearly wasn’t expecting him to do that. He seems genuinely surprised to find himself racing for the goal with the ball, and several Greenrock players racing after him. He speeds up, panting hard. Aiden sprints up alongside him, distracting the two on Noah’s left, who clearly expect Noah to pass it to him. That’s exactly what Noah starts to do, but Aiden shakes his head and shouts something.
Noah changes the direction of the kick at the last second. The exhausted goalie dives for the ball, and misses. It goes sailing right into the net.
The Ketterbridge crowd leaps to their feet in delight as Noah flings his hands up over his head. He sprints in a wide arc towards Aiden, who -
Finally cracks a smile. A giant grin, actually. He and Noah run to each other and leap up into the air, bouncing off of each other’s backs. The rest of the team rushes up to join them, shouting happily as Aiden hops up onto the scoreboard, pulling Noah up with him.
The crowd is loving every second of this, and the school photographer is grinning down at her camera like she knows she got the perfect shot. Kasey and Angie are giggling with excitement beside me, standing on tiptoes to try and see over the crowd.
I stand there biting my lip, then quietly grab my backpack and begin working my way out of the bleachers. Kasey notices me leaving and shouts something I can’t hear over the uproar. I shake my head and wave goodbye, giving her what I hope was a reassuring smile.
It takes me a while to get out of the crowd. Once I do, I realize that I don’t know where I’m going. I aimlessly slip off into the darkness on the far side of the bleachers, then set out across the crisp autumn landscape of our campus.
The crowd noise falls off as I wander into the cluster of trees just off of the gym. I sit down on the crunchy golden-brown leaves and lean back against one of the trees, a tall, graceful maple. I close my eyes, taking long, deep breaths.
I shouldn’t have come tonight. I appreciate what Kasey was trying to do, but this was a mistake. The boy who stole my poem and lied to his girlfriend about it, who’s always so mean to me and anyone else who bothers him… now I’m thinking about him, which is something I try not to do.
It’s just that I actually saw him smile. It’s not like I keep track of how often I’ve seen him do that, but based on how startled I was when I saw it, it’s a very rare thing.
I can’t think what he has to be so unhappy about, of all people. Aiden? Seriously, what does he want that he doesn’t already have? A gorgeous girlfriend, a bunch of best friends, sports skills that fill the bleachers, the unwavering admiration of everyone at this school no matter how bad his behavior… but frowning Aiden Callahan is infinitely more familiar than smiling Aiden Callahan.
I don’t get him. I really don’t.
After some time I realize that I’ve been sitting here lost in thought, staring off into the distance, for way longer than I meant to be. People are streaming away from the field and back towards the parking lot. I’ve been watching them without noticing, for so long that the crowd has dwindled down to a handful. The lights at the field have been switched off.
I give myself a shake, then get back to my feet. I’m sure that Angie and Kasey are going to join the post-game celebration, wherever that ends up happening. They’re probably already there - unless they made a stop to get the vodka from Angie’s closet - but I’m not going to go meet up with them. I’ve had enough of being anywhere near Aiden for one night. I don’t feel like going somewhere to watch him be the most popular guy at the party.
I double-check that I got my homework from my locker, then curse softly. My P.E. clothes aren’t in my backpack. I must have left them in the gym. Well, at least I’m right here.
I walk around the side and try the door of the gym, then blink in surprise when I find it unlocked. I didn’t really expect it to be, but I guess there is a light on inside.
I cross the basketball court and let myself into the boy’s locker room, then freeze to the spot and catch the door before it can slam. There’s light coming into the dark locker room from somewhere, and I can hear voices talking.
Uh oh. Am I breaking any rules by being here this late? One of those voices definitely belongs to our P.E. coach Mr. Karison, so I’m in trouble, if so.
I peek around the side of one of the lockers and take a look. The other door into the locker room, the one in the far wall, has been left propped open. I can see through it into the weight room.
My startled eyes fall on Aiden, who’s seated on a weight bench. His cheeks are faintly crimson from all that exercise, his hair a tangled mess, his bronze skin is shimmering with a light sheen of sweat. But he’s changed out of his soccer clothes into gym clothes, loose-fitting athletic shorts and an ice-blue shirt without sleeves. There are some weights on the bench beside him, like he was working out.
The smile I saw on his face at the end of the game is gone. He’s frowning up at his coach, obviously frustrated.
“-a big deal, Aiden,” Mr. Karison is saying, in an earnest, imploring tone of voice. “Who knows how far you could go? It starts with college football, the NFL could be next-”
“No,” Aiden says flatly.
Mr. Karison makes an agonized sound, grabbing a handful of his own hair.
“This could mean a scholarship for college, a free ride, Aiden! Is it that you’re worried about getting injured in the big leagues? Because if so I’m surprised at you. That’s never made you shy on the field before. Besides, they want you for a kicker, anyone touches you it’s probably a penalty-”
“It’s not that.”
“Then - okay, I think I know what this is about.” Mr. Karison adopts a patient, gentle tone of voice. “Look, I’m sure that Melanie is a very nice girl. But to stay here in Ketterbridge, to give up an opportunity like this for - wait, oh, god - she’s not pregnant, is she?”
Aiden looks up at him sharply, his eyes wide and startled. “What? Fuck, no!”
“Dollar in the swear jar, young man, and let’s not pretend I haven’t caught you two sneaking off together-”
“Jesus, Coach, it’s not about her. I’m just saying no, okay? I don’t want to do it.”
“Is it because you don’t want to play football? Did you want to wait to hear from the soccer scouts? Because I got a very encouraging email from-”
“No, I just - I already have other plans,” Aiden breaks in, with a very firm, final tone in his voice. “For when I graduate. So I’m not doing any of that, alright?”
Mr. Karison lets out an agonized breath, then drops to sit beside Aiden on the weight bench.
“Aiden, you could go so far! You’ve got the talent and the physicality. You’ve got the drive, that’s for sure. Look at you, you’re back in the weight room while all the other boys went off to the party. You’re missing your own party! That’s the kind of commitment and dedication-”
“Has nothing to do with commitment or dedication, I just wanted some peace and quiet,” Aiden’s deep voice cuts in, with a growling undercurrent of exasperation. “It was so loud out there. My head is killing me.”
“Aiden, listen to what the scout wrote after I sent him your footage. It’s clear to us that he’s an exceptionally creative player, with distinctive style to go along with all that technical skill. His tape did the rounds at our office, and everyone who saw it agreed we should pay him a visit.”
Aiden’s frown melts away. For the second time tonight, he smiles brilliantly.
“Really? They said that?”
“Yes!” Mr. Karison says eagerly, encouraged by the smile. “It’s like I said, Aiden, this is big! Depending on which college wants you, you could be playing on national TV, on a ranked team, in front of millions of people-”
“I don’t want that,” Aiden says, immediately frowning again.
“But - but - alright, look, nobody can make you do anything you don’t want to do, but if-”
He breaks off as Aiden lets out a snort of dry, humorless laughter. He waits uncertainly, like he expects Aiden to say something, but Aiden doesn’t.
“Won’t you at least think about it?” Mr. Karison asks desperately, looking at him with imploring eyes. “Just tell me you’ll think about it.”
“I already made up my mind, Coach. Sorry to let you down.”
“No, you’re not - it’s - it’s okay,” Mr. Karison answers, failing to avoid sounding a little heartbroken. “There’s still a lot of time to think this through, though. Plenty of time. Maybe we can talk about it some more later?”
“Yeah, whatever, fine,” Aiden sighs, rubbing his temple.
Mr. Karison gets up and sets something down on the weight bench. The folder he was reading from when he told Aiden what the scout said.
“By the way,” Aiden adds, with obvious exasperation in his voice, “You didn’t tell me that stupid picture was gonna be up on a big screen for the crowd before the game. Is that why you made us take it? I wouldn’t have agreed to that.”
“It was for the scouts, Aiden,” Mr. Karison sighs. “And they loved it. They loved you. So just be really sure that whatever you have planned is worth it. Remember what you’re giving up for it. Make sure it’s really, really what you want.”
Aiden, who was reaching for the weights, stops and looks up at Mr. Karison as he lets himself out through the side door.
Once it swings shut after him, Aiden silently reaches for the folder, opens it, and flips through the pages inside. I think I catch a split-second glimpse of sadness in his eyes, but I can’t be sure. He keeps his head bowed over the folder as he looks, and his hair is falling over his face.
After a moment he suddenly, aggressively snaps the folder shut and tosses it aside, hard enough that some of the papers fly out and scatter on the floor. He turns away to pick up his weights, then pauses as the far door opens again. Someone comes inside, shaking off a few droplets of rain.
“Hey.” Ralph gives his head a vague toss in the direction of the papers scattered on the floor as he comes over to Aiden. “What’s that about?”
Aiden gets up to stuff the papers back into the folder, sighing deeply. “Coach giving me the talk about everything I’m throwing away. Again.”
Ralph scowls darkly, leaning back against one of the weight machines. “Well, fuck him. You’re not leaving Ketterbridge.”
Aiden turns his back to Ralph, hanging his head, then tosses the folder back onto the bench. “Whatever, man. I don’t care. I’m used to letting everybody down.”
“What d’you mean? You won the game.”
Aiden falls silent for a second, then shakes his head, like forget it. “How’d it go with the girl you were talking to? The cute one with-?”
“Didn’t work out,” Ralph cuts in, with a serrated edge to his cold voice. “I don’t care, though. Didn’t even like that stuck-up bitch, anyways.”
Aiden stops reaching for the weights and looks at Ralph over his shoulder, frowning darkly. “Well, shit, I hope you didn’t come at her with that attitude. And what are you saying, she turned you down? Seemed like she was interested when Grant introduced you. What happened, what’d you say to her?”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Ralph snaps, his dark green eyes glittering angrily. “How would you know? You and Noah have been busy every day this week-”
“Practicing for the game, dude,” Aiden sighs, sitting down on the weight bench. “Coach had us all doing-”
“Yeah, whatever.” Ralph straightens up and strides swiftly for the door. “Fucking forget it.”
Aiden finally lifts his head, his blue eyes blazing with irritation. “Could you-?”
He breaks off, because Ralph has already slammed the door.
And me? Why am I still standing here? Why am I trembling?
In fear, I guess? I’m pretty sure that I’m now alone with Aiden Callahan. My worst nightmare. It’s not like he’s ever actually beaten me up, but he obviously hates me, and he’s never been alone in a dark room with me before. Who knows what he would do with that opportunity?
No, for some reason I don’t think it’s that, but whatever it is, I definitely am trembling all over. A complicated tangle of confused emotion is knotting up my chest, making my cheeks burn.
I peek around the lockers at Aiden again. He’s sitting motionless on the weight bench, his elbows resting on his knees. I watch as he pushes his warm, dark copper hair back with heavy, tired slowness, then falls still again. Motionless in the half-darkness, he stares off into the distance with a strange, faraway expression.
I’m startled by what a lonely figure he cuts, all of a sudden. He’s normally pretty silent and remote, but - I don’t know. I don’t know what to make of it, of any of this.
It’s like how he looked that time I caught him at the beach. So alone, so far away.
Maybe… should I try to talk to him? He looks like he could use some friendly company, warm words from someone. The feeling that I should go in there swells up powerfully within me. I’ve already taken a step forward before I catch myself.
No, Jamie, no, what happens every time you do this? Every time! You can’t, especially not here, not when you’re alone with him. Remember what happened at the beach? And all those other times? It’s your own fault when you walk right into it knowing exactly what’s going to happen, so just don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Just get your stuff and go.
I stand there trembling anxiously, not sure what to do. Slowly and silently, I begin to edge further into the locker room. My gym locker is by the weight room door, which means I have to get closer to Aiden, but if I stick to the shadows I don’t think he’ll see me.
Almost halfway to my locker, I stop and freeze to the spot. My eyes flit back to Aiden as he suddenly moves a little.
In the silence and stillness of the weight room, he tilts his head slightly back, lets his eyes flutter closed. He swallows softly; I can’t hear it from here, but I see the movement of his Adam’s apple beneath his sweat-glazed skin. He lets out a slow rush of breath through his nose, some of the tension in his muscled shoulders relaxing. Based on the way he angles his head, slightly to the side, so that his hair tumbles over his brow - I think he’s listening to something.
I stop and listen, too, but I don’t hear anything.
Maybe he has a headphone in one ear that I can’t see from this angle. That’s good, probably enough cover for me to get my things. I open up my locker as silently as I can, then curse softly when I remember why I forgot my P.E. clothes. I’d planned to get them at the end of the school day, because I also had to get the injured plant that Angie brought for me to take a look at. It’s a peace lily that her mom knocked off of the windowsill by accident. I promised I’d see if there was anything I could do.
Shit. Can I leave it here for one night? No, I need to repot it properly as soon as possible. Fighting back a soft stream of curses, I stuff my P.E. clothes into my backpack and take the injured potted plant out into my arms. I nudge my locker closed as quietly as I can, then peek cautiously into the weight room.
Aiden is… still just sitting there, like he’s listening to something. I can’t see his expression from here. He’s holding so very still, still as if he’s in a trance, but as I watch he unconsciously lifts one hand and runs it slowly over the back of his neck.
For some reason I feel it, the warmth and pressure. Like the contact was against my own skin, my own neck. I give a little start, tightening my grasp on the pot in my hands, then back up behind my locker.
Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Learn from the past, for once. It’s already been forever of this, don’t put yourself right in the path of more…
But maybe - maybe I’ll just go in there for a second and tell him congratulations about the game? I can say that really quickly and then just get out, like a - niceness driveby. Leave him no time to start saying cruel, awful things to me. Is that the worst idea? One more try? Really fast?
I take a deep breath, then go around my gym locker and take a step towards the weight room.
I walk right into Aiden, who just came wandering out.
I gasp and take a startled step back, hugging the peace lily to my chest. My heartbeat flutters wildly, which I guess makes sense, I didn’t hear him coming, and he’s extremely physically imposing. Clearly he’s just as startled as I am, though, based on how his blue eyes widen. His hand begins to dart out to catch me, then drops just as quickly when he sees that it’s me.
“Oh - Aiden!” I stammer, shifting the plant into one hand and pressing the other one over my heart. “Sorry, I-”
Apologizing to him, somehow, already.
“I didn’t realize you were right there,” I finish nervously, running my trembling fingers through my hair.
Aiden’s eyes flit up to follow my fingers, then drop to my cheek and linger there for a few seconds, long enough to make me wonder what he’s looking at. I steal a very quick glance at the mirror behind him. It gives me back myself, windblown, pink-cheeked beneath my freckles from being out in the cold at the game. My red hair is in ruffled disorder, one of my hoodie strings blown up over the shoulder of my jacket.
My eyes look - different. Overbright, overheated, very large with nervousness, my pupils huge and nearly overtaking the amber of my irises.
Not sure what’s going on there. At least that’s not what Aiden was looking at.
Goddamnit. I forgot that Kasey painted the school colors in little stripes on my cheek. I’m wearing colors, too. One of the rare times I’m without my flannel, and it’s for this, and I regret it. I don’t want him to think I’m part of the Aiden Callahan fan club, especially because I’m basically the only non-member.
Too late for him to unsee any of this, though. I can feel his eyes on me, his gaze against my cheek.
I put my chin up determinedly, then try to meet his eyes with mine. Aiden does meet them, to my surprise. He stares into them for a moment, blinking hard, like something in them caught his attention. I remember with a jolt that they looked strange even to me in the mirror a second ago, and hastily drop my gaze to the lily in my arms.
I seldom find myself anywhere close to alone with Aiden. This whole thing is playing havoc with my nerves. I swallow shakily, then look up at him again, reminding myself what I stayed for.
“I was just getting my stuff,” I explain, smiling timidly. I nod to the peace lily, and Aiden silently lets his gaze fall to it. “But I saw you in there, so I thought I’d stop in and say congratulations on winning the game.”
Aiden’s blue eyes slowly lift to meet mine again.
“You’ve really got a fire in you for this, don’t you?” I add, in all sincerity. “I can tell it’s affected the whole team.”
The whole school, I nearly add, but decide against it.
Aiden still hasn’t said anything, so I lapse into silence, looking up at him with earnest, tentative eyes. Hoping it doesn’t show how nervous I am.
Maybe I don’t need to worry about that, though. Aiden’s gaze is suddenly roaming restlessly all over the locker room. He glances at me, and I try to catch that glance in my eyes, but he’s already looking away again.
“It’s nice how much it’s brought everyone together,” I add. “This is the most united I’ve ever seen our student body, at least since that time they tried to take the french fries out of the cafeteria. It’s nice that you guys made this happen.”
Without raising his face, Aiden turns his head away. A short silence falls.
Without even looking down at me, he pushes right past me into the locker room. The expression on his face really makes it seem like just having to be around me is painful.
He goes to his locker, opens it, and wrenches his gym bag out.
“Fuck off, Keane,” comes the deep, dangerous voice from the shadowy locker room. “Day’s been enough of a pain without you being part of it.”
I stare at him, then blink slowly a few times as I lower my gaze to the floor in tear-inducing frustration.
“Jesus, why do you have to be like that, man?” I manage hoarsely, hugging the peace lily to my chest. “All I said was congratulations, you don’t have to - seriously, did I ever do something to you, or-? Can you at least tell me what it was? Because I don’t-”
Aiden lets out an enormous sigh, blowing right past me as he settles the strap of his gym bag over his chest. “Just leave me the fuck alone, alright?”
He pushes the door of the locker room open, then stops when he realizes someone is right on the other side. He steps back to let the new arrival through.
It’s Ethan, of all people. The cute boy I was trying to watch during the soccer game instead of Aiden. He starts to say something to Aiden about the game, then breaks off when he spots me standing there.
“Oh, Jamie Keane, no way!” he says, breaking into a surprised grin. “Perfect, I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Aiden, who just put his hand on the door again, stops and looks sharply at Ethan, his blue eyes narrowing.
“Hey,” Ethan murmurs, turning to Aiden. “Is, um - is Coach still here?”
“No,” Aiden answers, through gritted teeth.
Ethan casts a quick glance at the showers. “Anyone else still around?”
I’m vaguely aware of Aiden answering him, but I haven’t really been listening. I just realized -
“Aiden, wait!” I dart into the weight room and grab the folder, then rush across the half-dark locker room and hand it to him. “You forgot this.”
“Great, thanks so much,” he snaps, wrenching it out of my hand. “And hey, Keane? Next time you feel the urge to talk to me, stay way the fuck back instead, and then get lost. Because I can’t think of anything I’d like less.”
He tosses the folder into the trash can, then storms out of the locker room, letting the door slam shut after him. The sharp noise rattles my whole body.
Ethan raises his eyebrows, then turns back to me.
“Damn. You’d think he’d be happier, given we qualified for the League Championships.” Ethan shrugs his shoulders, then drifts over a little closer to me. “D’you watch the game? I thought I saw you in the crowd.”
“Yeah,” I answer distractedly, still staring after Aiden. “You guys were great. Congrats on the win.”
“Hey, thanks.” Ethan smiles down at me, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Gotta say, it feels pretty good.”
“I bet,” I answer politely, not really listening, focused on struggling to pull myself together.
“We should celebrate,” Ethan says, with a hint of a purr to his voice. “You and me.”
My eyes finally blink up to his face. My heart stumbles in flattered surprise, despite the situation. To my eyes Ethan is one of the cutest boys in school, and there’s a certain something in his voice and his eyes right now that he’s not bothering to hide as he smiles down at me.
I’m startled as hell to hear my own answer.
“Aw, I’d love to, but I - I really have to get this plant home. It’s hurt, it pretty urgently needs to be repotted.”
Ethan adopts a wounded pout. “Are you turning me down for a tree?”
Another chance to change my mind, and yet -
“It’s a lily, and I just can’t tonight, I’m so sorry. Some other time?”
“Aw. Okay.” Ethan nods at the plant, flashing me a playful smile. “Takes some serious commitment keeping those alive, right? No one can say you’re afraid of that.”
“Oh,” I answer, a faint blush spreading across my cheeks. “I-”
“Here, let me give you my number.” He slips a pen out of the pocket of his jeans, then scribbles down some digits on the back of my hand. He gives my fingers a very subtle squeeze before he drops them again. “Text me when you’re free? Or you could just text me tonight if you’re bored.”
“I - maybe, yeah.”
He gives me a sly little smile, watching me from beneath his lashes, then waves goodbye before he slips out through the door.
I stay where I am for a few minutes, standing alone in the dark, trying to get a hold of myself.
Oh, my god. Why did I just do that? Why the fuck did I just turn Ethan down? I’m single, and I’ve always thought he was cute, especially in his soccer uniform, there’s something about that I like… so why?
Goddamnit, I hate high school. You just do things impulsively and you don’t even know why and then it’s already happened, it’s too late to do anything else. When I was a child making mud pies in the garden for hours on end I probably had clearer purposes in mind than I do now.
God, what am I doing? What’s wrong with me?
I drag my sleeve over my eyes, then set off for the door. The door that Aiden went out through, since I don’t want to run into Ethan or anybody else at the front of the gym. I know how upset and distracted I must look.
But when I push open the back door and step out into the rainy autumn air, there’s someone leaning against the wall.
Aiden. He’s still here, even though it’s cold and he’s only in his gym clothes. Maybe he’s waiting for a break in the rain. His head is hanging down, his hair falling over his eyes, his hand holding very tightly to the strap of his gym bag.
He looks up when he hears the door open. Purely by accident, his intensely blue eyes meet mine through the rain, burning and inquisitive in some way I haven’t seen from him before.
I immediately turn away, hugging the peace lily to myself. I know better than to do anything else.
I set off alone across the campus, making for my car with my head bowed against the rain. Speeding up, like walking faster will somehow stop me from crying. I don’t know what Aiden is still doing here, and I don’t care. I’m not giving him one more second of my thoughts tonight.
He’s not worth it.
~~~~
He didn’t even put his weights away before he left the weight room, I think angrily to myself. That’s just like him, the thoughtless jerk… fuck. Thinking about him again.
I roll over in bed, then sit up and put my head in my hands, breathing out a ragged exhale.
I can’t sleep. I’ve been laying awake all night. No matter how long I lay still and breathe deeply, my heart won’t stop pounding, pounding. It’s starting to make my chest hurt.
For some inexplicable reason I keep catching myself trying to listen intently, like I saw Aiden listening to the silence in the weight room.
Nugget, who felt me sit up, wakes up just enough to put his head on my foot. I absent-mindedly play with his ear as I gaze out through my bedroom window, down on my mom’s garden and the treeline past it.
It’s really late, and it’s a dark night. The trees melt into the sky, making it look like the stars are floating above nothing but a bunch of mysterious, shifting shadows.
The wind is howling, literally, sending up a high-pitched wailing sound as it whips through the trees. Rattling my window panes with the harder gusts, sending dry autumn leaves skittering against them.
It does it again as I sit there listening. The wail of the wind is the kind of cold sound that makes me feel cold, even safely in my bed. It fills me with a powerful, deep sense of loneliness, so sudden and strong that my eyes start to well up with how badly I wish someone else was here with me. It makes no sense, but it makes me want to cry.
I wrap my arms tightly around my knees, hugging them to myself as I stare out through the window.
Nugget lifts his head and pricks up his floppy ears, his tail wagging. I look down at him, then over at the doorway as a soft voice breaks the silence of my room.
“Jamie?”
The door opens a little, to reveal a silhouetted figure in scrubs peeking through my bedroom door, her hospital badge still clipped to her clothes.
“What are you still doing up, honey?” she whispers, leaning further into my room. “I’m the one of us with the graveyard shift tonight. Although you’re not supposed to call it that at the hospital.”
I let out my best attempt at a quiet laugh, then shake my head.
“Just can’t sleep,” I answer, carefully keeping my eyes on my Broken Social Scene poster instead of her.
“Oh, no!” My mom takes a step into my room, concerned. “Did you forget to say your prayers before you got into bed? Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night when I forget. Once I’ve done it I can sleep again, just like that.”
I actually haven’t prayed in a really long time, but that conversation definitely doesn’t need to happen right now. “It’s - it’s not that. I don’t know what it is.”
My mom tilts her head to the side sympathetically. “Being a teenager is hard.”
I let out a ragged laugh of agreement instead of answering. I’m trying not to let too much show in my voice, but maybe for me just being quiet is a giveaway, too.
My mom pushes her windswept red braid over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes to try to see me better through the darkness of my room. “Hey, the game must have been fun, though, right? Ketterbridge won! Again! I don’t think we’ve ever had a streak like this before.”
“What - how did you already hear about that?”
“They played it on the TVs at the hospital. Even the patients were excited. I’ve never seen the geriatrics wing so lively. How was it in person?”
“It was - lively, yeah.”
This is a short enough answer to concern my mom, as it turns out. She comes further into my room, until she’s close enough to smooth a hand over my hair. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry you had such a bad day. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“James.” A gentle scold comes into her voice. “Don’t act like you can’t tell me anything, you know-”
“I mean it, I - I just don’t want to talk about it. Honestly.”
“Okay…” She draws back reluctantly. “Well, you know I’m right around the corner. End of the hallway.”
I let out a ragged, affectionate laugh. “Yeah, mom, I know where your room is.”
“And you know to come find me if you need me. Or your father, if it’s a boy thing.” She kisses the top of my head, then crosses back to the door. “Try to get some sleep, honey.”
She says I love you and goodnight. I murmur back the same, already distractedly staring out of my window again. I sort of don’t realize she left until I hear the soft click of the door closing.
And why did you do that? I ask myself blankly. Weren’t you just feeling so lonely that you wanted to cry? But someone showed up, and you sent them away. Now you feel that lonely again, and it’s your own fault, just like it was your own fault when you went to talk to Aiden tonight…
I guess it’s not like I could have talked to my mom about this. I’m no snitch, and Aiden’s aunt has been a family friend of ours for as long as I can remember, having joined the church when I was still a baby. Anything I say to my mom might reach Ms. Callahan’s ears, and then she’ll probably tell Aiden’s parents, or tell off Aiden herself, or something. I don’t know.
Besides, how to explain? When I can’t even explain any of this to myself? Already my cheeks are burning again, my breathing is uneven again, my heart is pounding restlessly again. The distraction provided by my mom only briefly put that on hold, and now it’s all back with a vengeance.
What kills me is that I’ve always wanted to grow up to be just like my mom. The kind of person who tries to do everything out of warm-hearted love, from a place of warm-hearted love. That’s who I want to be, too. A person who puts love first, feels love the most out of everything. And yet…
This, the way Aiden makes me feel, it’s the thing I feel most vividly, most deeply. He stirs such wild feelings in me that I can barely hold it all in, even when I’m the most in control of myself. It’s not even anger, it’s - a strange pain, soft but deep, one that makes my heart feel overfull and heavy with something to the point of brimming over.
This confusion and sadness - no, the ache - this is the thing I always feel the most powerfully. This is what hits me the hardest, affects me the deepest, wraps up my thoughts the most, gives me actual, physical symptoms that last for hours, sometimes days. And it has nothing to do with love. It’s the opposite, if anything. It has to do with the burning hatred Aiden has for me, and how much I hate him back.
That’s not what I want at all, so why is this - the painful uproar in my heart and body that he always makes me feel - my dominating emotion? Why do I keep going back for more? I don’t even want to breathe for fear of fanning the flames in my chest, but still, I sit there breathing deeply. So deeply.
I put my forehead on my knees and let my shoulders fall, feeling helpless. I understand that being kind won’t make everyone like you, and it’s not like I’ve never been bullied before. For some reason it only drives me crazy when he does it. It only affects me like this when it’s from him.
I mean, I should be happy right now, right? I shouldn’t be letting my two-minute brush with some boy I barely know ruin my whole night. It should have been a good night overall, especially since Ethan surprised me with his number… wait a second. Oh, shit.
I completely forgot about Ethan.
I give a start and look at the back of my hand, then let out a whispered curse. I was in the shower for a long time, lost in my thoughts about Aiden, wondering what he wants badly enough to pass on all the invitations in that folder. I must have been in there for even longer than I realized, because Ethan’s number washed right out of my skin.
Well… I guess it’s okay, I tell myself half-heartedly. I can just get it at school, if I want it.
Now why’d I lose all my enthusiasm about that, all of a sudden? What the hell?
I run my hand under my nose, sniffling a little. Nothing makes any sense to me. I’m so confused, so lost.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and do a double-take. In the darkness I stare into my eyes, big and dark with pain, and realize that I’m sitting with my head tilted slightly to the side, with an air of waiting for something to happen, or waiting for someone to arrive. Even the way I’m angled towards the window, like somebody might start walking up the dark garden path…
My thoughts trail off as the wind wails against the windows again. The loneliness stabs at me, and suddenly it’s too much to bear. I can’t take another second of this.
I throw myself flat on the bed, shivering as I drag my blanket up over myself. I imagine crumpling everything that happened tonight up into a tight ball, then shoving it deep down within myself. Someplace where I can try to forget about it. This time I mean it, I’m not thinking about this anymore. It’s painful, and it’s pointless.
I’ll never understand anything about Aiden Callahan, and there’s no reason I need to.
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