Page 71
Story: Catch and Cradle
My backs of my eyelids are streaked with gold. Everything is gold when I’m kissing her. She makes the whole world melt down into nothing but precious metals.
When we finally break apart, we’re both panting. Her neck is flushed the prettiest pink, and her eyes are shining with need.
“Hope,” she says, her voice heavy with intention, “I promise I’m going to fix things so I can kiss you whenever I want. I need that so bad.”
I can’t stop looking at her lips. “Me too.”
She slides her hand off my neck and runs her fingers through my hair before dropping her arm back to her side. “Is there anything else I can help with?”
“Uh...” I can think of quite a few things, but they really aren’t appropriate for a sports field. “I guess, um...”
The more she looks at me like that, the harder it is to believe she’d try to hurt me. I know my head is still clouded with the kiss, but I don’t want to launch an accusation at her, not after a moment like this.
“I just...If there was something you needed to tell me, you’d tell me, right?”
She tilts her head to the side, and I realize that wasn’t exactly the clearest question ever.
“Like, you wouldn’t keep stuff from me just because you think I can’t handle it?” I ask. “I’m really worried about people doing that. Ethan did that. He just stopped telling me things because he thought it would be too much. He didn’t even ask me what too much was. He just decided for me, and it made me feel stupid.”
“You’re one of the smartest people I know.” She pauses for a second, holding my gaze. “I’m not going to decide what you get to know and what you don’t. I’m not going to decide what you can handle.”
“Okay, good.”
I take a deep breath and let that sink in. If I want this with her, I’m going to have to trust her. I won’t let the past stop me from having a future.
“So...” Becca rocks back on her heels and glances around us. “Do you want to grab some balls with me?”
I burst out laughing, and she joins in. By the time we’ve got all the scattered gear gathered up, our teammates have arrived. I catch Becca’s eye as I welcome them, and she flashes me a thumbs up.
The world is still coated in gold.
17
Becca
“Focus, Moore!”
Coach Jamal’s shout carries over the triumphant roar of the crowd in the stands and the groaning of my teammates. I just lost possession of the ball for what feels like the millionth time this game.
It’s probably more like the third time, but that doesn’t make the situation much better. We’re down by two in our Montreal match with less than half the game left.
I watch our defenders spring into action as the McGill players make their way up the field. A few good blocks slow them down, but a surprise pass sends the ball arcing through the air and straight into the basket of an opposition attacker who’s in a perfect position to score.
I hold my breath along with what feels like every other player on the field. Our goalie dives like there’s no tomorrow, but it’s not enough to stop the perfect angle of the ball as it whips past her stick and slams into the back of the net.
The stands erupt before the point is even officially called. McGill is a massive school compared to UNS, and even on a cloudy October day like this, their bleachers are full enough to make an ear-splitting amount of noise as they cheer for our demise.
Focus, Moore.
I repeat Coach’s words to myself as the ref sets up for the face-off, even though I’m pissed enough I want to snap and tell him he’s not being helpful.
I’m not really mad at him. I’m mad at myself. I’ve been off the whole game, and it’s starting to affect my teammates as they all begin to wonder what’s wrong with me and whether or not I can be trusted to catch a pass. We’re no longer a single, many-armed machine. We’ve split off into mismatched fragments with wires that don’t connect.
This is exactly how it felt after things started going bad with me and Lisa.
I shouldn’t be thinking about that. I shouldn’t be thinking about any of it. I’m creating a self-fulfilling prophecy with my constant stress, and it’s costing us the game. I realized my whole ‘wait until after the game to tell Hope everything’ plan was possibly not the best idea ever when I spent the whole twelve hour bus ride here as wide awake and jittery as someone who’d just downed two pots of coffee.
We got into the rented McGill dorms we’re staying in late last night, and everyone crashed right away to be prepared for our game at noon today. I’m not sure if I even slept. I spent most of the night listening to Bailey snoring in the bed across the room and replaying every conversation I’ve had with Hope this week.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71 (Reading here)
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100