Page 8 of Tell Me Softly

Chapter Four

Thiago

That week had been hell. No matter where I turned, she was there.

Not only did I keep running into her at school, I could also see her through her bedroom window every time I looked outside.

When I was ten and she was eight, we’d come up with a kind of Morse code.

It was the one thing she and I shared that my brother hadn’t been a part of because his window looked out the other side of the house.

I was always a little envious of their relationship.

It made sense. They were the same age, they understood each other better, but looking at each other out the window and sharing that code had made us close in ways Taylor couldn’t imagine.

When I turned twelve, my feelings changed, and I began to see her differently.

I was starting to check out girls, and as for Kam, well, I always had this urge to find a way to be closer to her.

She may have been the first girl I ever kissed––admittedly, it was a quick kiss and a clumsy one––but those years between ten and twelve are crucial ones, and it made me feel more mature to tease her, even if I knew it was an expression of how much I liked her.

Now, though, that difference meant less.

She was basically an adult, and my affection for her was turning into attraction.

But still, there was so much rage inside me.

I couldn’t help but hate her. I still blamed her for what had happened, even while I also wondered what it would feel like to kiss her now.

To kiss her for real. To savor her lips and feel her body pressed against mine.

I had observed her from a distance. She was the school’s queen bee.

Everyone talked about her, and everyone revolved around her like she was the sun and they were planets.

Her life was perfect. Everyone said that; they all envied her, and that only made me hate her family worse.

Why should her life be like that when mine had fallen apart?

Still, not everything I’d heard about her was good.

There were lots of people that hated her.

And people talked about her like an object.

I’d heard them call her ice princess , and I knew that was a reference to her mother, the ice queen .

In Anne Hamilton’s case, the nickname made sense, and I still couldn’t figure out why my father had chosen her when he decided to cheat on my mother.

Sure, she was pretty, but she was a lifeless body, an emotional void. Was Kami like that deep down too?

What really got to me, more than I cared to admit, were the players’ remarks in the locker room.

In the last week, I’d heard all of them, from how hot she was to all the things they’d like to do with her.

The dirty talk died down when Danny Walker, the team captain, walked in.

Kami’s so-called boyfriend was stuck-up, stiff.

The mayor’s son. Was he a good player? Sure.

But he was also a dickhead and someone to keep my eye on.

I’d given him the benefit of the doubt at first because at least he hadn’t said anything about Kam. And if anyone got out of line with their remarks, he’d scowl at them and shut them up. And they’d be quiet—at least until he left again.

But something in the past few hours had changed him, and what I heard him say before the game hit me in a way I could never have predicted. The thought of that dumbass actually having sex with her…

Victor Viani had pissed me off when he was talking to Kam, but I couldn’t just fight him in front of the whole school.

I tried to focus on the game, but in the second quarter, the cheerleaders started their routine, and it was hard to take my eyes off her.

Kam was incredible. She was the star of the squad, and every time they tossed her in the air, I held my breath.

I couldn’t forget my resentment against her and her family, though.

Maybe she had been close to me when I was a kid, maybe she was the first girl I fell in love with…

but none of that mattered because, at the end of the day, the Hamiltons had destroyed my childhood and my mother’s life, and I’d never be able to forgive them.

Especially that witch Kam had for a mother.

When the game was over, I was able to stop thinking about it and celebrate with my brother and his new teammates.

I was happy for Taylor. He fit right back into our old life.

He’d always been able to see the good side of things.

In that sense, he was very different from me.

His new friends not only respected me, they treated me like one of them.

They were seventeen, some of them eighteen, and it was ridiculous for them to try to pretend I was another teacher in their thirties or forties.

And I was glad they didn’t try. I wasn’t exactly flush with friends in this town, and the warmth the basketball team showed me meant a lot.

Klebb seemed to get this too, and he didn’t try to pester me about fraternizing with the other guys.

As I was wiping down, Taylor came over with Harry Lionel, our center who stood at nearly six foot seven, and invited me to a party later at Aaron Martin’s house, the best power forward the team had.

I grabbed my water bottle and laughed.

“Guys, I can’t do little kids’ parties,” I said to piss them off. My brother rolled his eyes, but Harry ribbed me, trying to persuade me.

“Come on, dude. Everybody wants you to come, Coach. Even if you are an old man.” He grabbed my water bottle and dumped it over his head.

“I’ll see if I can make it,” I said. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. Besides, my mother was working the night shift, so I wouldn’t have to worry about her being home alone.

My brother walked off to the locker room with his new friend while I put away the balls and picked up the water bottles and trash the players and fans had left behind.

That was the worst part of the job, but I wasn’t about to complain.

I needed the money, and I needed steady employment as a condition of my probation.

Absorbed in what I was doing, I barely realized the bleachers were empty.

A door opened and closed behind me. When I heard dribbling, I turned just as the ball swished through the net, struck the wall, and bounced back in the direction it had come from.

Looking over, I saw a pair of girl’s hands. It was her: Kam.

She had changed into a skirt, a white halter top, and combat boots that made her look taller than she was. She was almost too much for my mental health to stand.

She looked up, startled, and said, “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was still in here.” Her body was tense. I could tell I was having some kind of effect on her, but I didn’t know what it was.

“Can I get the ball?” I said, trying to ignore the feelings that flooded through me each time I saw her.

She looked at me coldly and threw the ball straight into my chest. When I caught it, I turned and shot, making the basket and peering at her from the corner of my eye. She walked over to the benches where the cheerleaders had left their purses and water bottles during the game.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cell phone I’d found under a bench and was planning to leave with the secretary on Monday morning. It was locked, and I hadn’t been able to figure out whose it was.

“Looking for this?” I asked. There was relief in Kam’s beautiful brown eyes.

“I thought I’d lost it,” she said, walking hesitantly toward me.

Amused, I stuck it back in my pocket. She stopped short as she observed me.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I grabbed the ball and sank another basket. I knew she was watching me, and I was happy that I’d made a tough shot, a three-pointer from the far end of the court.

“You know, I think I’ll keep it,” I said, collecting the ball and walking over until I was face to face with her.

Her expression was like that of a person hearing a foreign language. I didn’t know if she didn’t understand or didn’t want to.

“Give it back,” she said with that stern tone she seemed so used to using.

“Or what, princess?” I asked, coming even closer.

I didn’t know what I was doing; I just had the urge to piss her off.

It was like when we were little and I used to pull her braids.

I wanted a reaction out of her, but I also wanted to smell her perfume.

And when I did, I could feel every one of my five senses go on alert.

She stepped back to try to keep some distance between us.

She did that a lot—not just with me, with everyone.

At least in public. And that pose of hers, distant, untouchable, made me want to disrupt it.

I noticed the little dark freckles around her nose––those were new, she didn’t have them when she was a kid.

And her lips, thicker than they used to be.

Her long, curled eyelashes casting shadows on her reddening cheeks…

“I don’t know what your deal is, but give me back my phone, Thiago.” It turned me on, hearing my name come from her mouth. I was about to do something crazy––one of the craziest things I’d ever done––when the gym door opened again.

“Kami, you coming or what?” said the curly-haired girl who was always glued to her. I didn’t know her name. She stared at us for a second, not expecting to see me there, let alone so close to her friend. Kam turned with a smile so fake, I couldn’t believe the other girl didn’t notice.

“I’ll be right out, give me a sec. I’ll catch up with you,” she said. She turned back to me as the latch clicked. “Give it,” she ordered me, reaching toward my pocket.

I grabbed her hand and trapped it, pulling her in and whispering in her ear, my lips almost touching her skin.

“I’ll give it to you when I feel like it, Kamila.”

Then I walked past her and out of the gym. I’d crossed a line I swore I wouldn’t cross, but I didn’t care. Because I was going to have to give her back her phone, and to do that, I’d have to see her again…and I was looking forward to it.