Mom drinks. She falls down and hurts herself and doesn't remember how. She loses whole nights sometimes. She slurs when she talks to me and hides bottles in her closest, but she's here. She's never left.
"Damn..." I'm not sure what else to say to her.
"Yeah..."
Then, she drops her head on my shoulder. I freeze, not sure what to do, and then relax. There's nothing to do.
"They think I was a few weeks old. Maybe a month. That's why I said I didn't know exactly how old I am. Not many people can say that. My kids will get a kick out of it one day."
"There's always that." Even though I try, I'm not sure my voice is as light as hers. How does she do it? How does it not bother her? My mom had a few too many drinks tonight and I almost lost it.
"Lana's great though. We have fun together. She's a softie, always bringing home stray kittens and stuff. Guess I should be thankful because it's what made her bring me home too."
This time, I can't find it in myself to say anything, so I don't. I just let her lean on me, looking out at the court, up at the stars, anything to distract myself. A few minutes later, she speaks again. "You have skeletons, too, Carter Shaw. Don't think I don't know it. I think...I think people with secrets, or with a past, I guess I should say, I think we're kindred spirits. Like maybe we see something in each other that no one else takes the time to see."
I want her to be right, want her to see me, something in me that no one else does because it sucks—the hiding. With Kira, I might not have to hide. Could I tell her? Let her know that I'm scared of what could happen? That I lie all the time? That I'm worried my lies could cause someone to get hurt? Cause Sara to get hurt, but at the same time, saying anything would be stabbing Mom in the back.
My arm itches to reach up and wrap around her. To pull her closer, but can we get closer? Right now she might be closer to me than anyone's ever been.
"Melanie? She didn't seem like your type." Her voice sounds from beside me.
"No? I think I wanted her to be. I...she made me feel normal. I needed that from her because I couldn't get it anywhere else, I guess? That sounds fucking stupid, doesn't it?"
Kira's head is suddenly off my shoulder and she's looking at me. Close...so close.
To distract myself, I talk again. "That's why I didn't want to lose her, ya know? She's just..."
I can't keep going because I'm not thinking about Mel. I can't. All I can focus on is Kira's eyes. The organish-brown hair and how the street light kind of reflects off it. She's gorgeous and suddenly there's no one in the world except the two of us. I might regret it—well, not that I would, but I'm risking a slap to the face. I'm risking the moment and whatever it is we've been doing, but I can't keep away from her. I need to know the way she feels because she's right. I see something in her and even though it might not be the same things we're seeing, I know she sees something different in me, too.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't keep my lips off hers.
Our mouths touch gently at first. I tease her lips with mine: one kiss, another, and another. When no smacks come, I let my tongue slip out to trace her lips. Heat sizzles my skin, boils the blood in my veins because she opens her mouth, tasting me.
I thread my hand through her hair, pulling her closer, trying to get as close to her as I can. Need taking me over, sucking me in like a vortex. She tastes so good. Even better than she smells and I want it all.
Closer, I lean closer again and then her mouth rips away from mine. She's only a few inches away from me which must mean she wants to kiss me again, so I lean forward, ready to pick up where we left off.
Her hand on my chest stops me.
"I have to say...you're a good kisser, Coach, but next time you kiss me, do it because you want to. Not because you're missing the ex who just dumped you."
"I...what?" I don't know what to say. I wasn't thinking of Mel. Hell, I can't even remember what Mel looks like right now. I can't make the words come out.
Kira doesn't give me enough time anyway. She pushes to her feet, and walks back to the court, taking my basketball with her.
"Hey!" I scramble to my feet and go after her. "I wasn't. I didn't. I want." Why won't any words come out?
Kira stops moving and puts her hand to my lips. "Shh. Don't. Things said in the heat of the moment never count. You might regret it. I'll think you only said it because you're a guy and guys always want to kiss. Just don't."
Dumbly, I nod.
"Come on, Coach. It's about time you took me home."
We ride to her house in silence, the only time either of us speak is to give or get directions. It doesn't take long to get to her place.
"You heading home?" Her hand is on the handle.
"Shit. I don't know. I forgot I told Mom I'm staying at Travis's."
Kira sighs. "Lana's a nurse now. Works graveyard at the hospital. You have until 7:45 tomorrow morning before you have to be out."
I can't help it, I smile.
"No reason to smile. You're benched. It's the couch for you, Coach."
Chapter Ten
Kira doesn't answer her bedroom door when I knock softly at about 6:30 in the morning. I think about writing her a quick note to say thanks but two things stop me. First, I have no paper, which means I'd have to look around her house which feels a little stalkerish. The second reason, is I don't want to risk being caught by her mom—do I even call Lana her mom? It's what she is, but Kira doesn't call her that.
Not that it's important as I'm standing in her hall, debating life's little mysteries when I should be getting out of here before Lana gets home. And it also wouldn't be smart to leave a note that Lana could find, so before I can stall any longer, I slip out of her house and climb into my truck.
Okay. 6:35. Where should I go? Not a whole lot of options this early in the morning, so ignoring the cramping in my gut, I head home. Inside, the house is silent, which makes sense. Sara is with Bill and Mom must be passed out. No, asleep I mean. I don't want to think of any other option.
When my stomach growls I grab a bowl of cereal and start to eat. Kira was a pretty quick learner last night. I wonder if she'll want to play again—let me teach her again or if it was a one time, I-feel-sorry-for-Carter-because-he-got-dumped-and-his-girl-was-probably-cheating-on-him thing. She's so wild. I can't help but picture her running around the court with my big shoes on her feet and her faded orange hair.
Does anything ever bother her? She seems so...free. Like she can do anything. Be anyone. I'm embarrassed to admit, I envy her that.
Like any sane guy would, my head goes straight to what it felt like to press my lips against hers. How she tasted and smelled so sweet, even though she'd been sweating on the court. It's crazy how girls always smell so good. How soft she is. All girls are soft, but she's somehow softer.
Mel never felt that soft.
"Urgh!" I run a hand over my face. Daydreaming about girls who aren't mine is not a Carter Shaw thing to do. Dumping the rest of my cereal in the garbage disposal, I jog up the stairs. I don't mean to do it, but my feet stop outside of Mom's door. Pressing my ear against it, I listen. Of course I don't hear anything. Not even sure why I did it, but I thought maybe I'd hear her shower. Know that she is up which means she couldn't have gotten too wasted last night.