Freeing Carter(11)
Author: Nyrae Dawn

So she’s scared I’m going to embarrass her like her old school? Yeah, I don’t even need to know that to still know we’re going to win.

***

Eighteen points, eight rebounds and eleven assists. The whole gym is chanting LANCERS! LANCERS! Mel and the cheerleaders are jumping up and down because of our sixteen point win. But me? I’m flying. My heart is hammering harder than it’s ever beat before. There’s nothing in the world like this feeling. It’s like being shocked by lightening, but in a good way. All lit up…electric and invincible.

"Carter! Carter!" Sara calls. I’m amazed that I hear her over all the noise, but I reach out and grab her hand before someone runs her over.

"Did you see that, Twig? I told you we’d win."

She wraps her tiny arms around me. "Did you score points for me? You said. I watched. How many?" She keeps starting different sentences, too excited to know which one to go with.

"Eighteen and they were all for you, kid." I set her down as Mom hugs me.

"Good game, you."

"Thanks, Ma." Just like every day since that one night, her eyes are crystal clear. Her scent untainted.

"We have to go. Bill’s expecting Sara. I suppose you’re going out?"

I nod my reply.

"Be good and be home by curfew." She gives me a quick kiss. "I’m proud of you."

Left and right people come up, congratulating me. Before the locker room. After.

Mel and Trina are bouncing up and down in the car, making me wonder why I thought it would be a good idea to ride with two girls to a party. After we get out of the car, I grab Mel’s hand and pull her to me. "We’ll be right there, Trin," I call to her.

I’m standing here, holding her around the waist and I realize I don’t remember the last time I kissed my girlfriend. "Are you going to tell me congratulations?" I ask and lean toward her. It’s nothing but a quick press of our lips before we both pull away.

"Congrats, Carter."

I step away, and then another step. Wow…I got nothing. What does this mean? Maybe the bigger question is what do I do now?

Mel doesn’t give me a chance to figure it out. "Oh! I love this song! Come on, Carter. Let’s go inside."

She whirls away and runs inside, not looking back. I don’t try to catch up.

Chapter Eight

I’ve been here almost two hours and I’ve only seen a ghost of Mel here and there. We talk for five seconds and then she’s gone again, which is okay, because I’ve been with Travis most of the night. He’s got a beer in his hand and me a soda. It’s not always easy to explain my no-drinking thing. Travis has never asked me about it, but I’m sure he wonders. Other people give me crap, but I make up BS excuses every time. I’ve seen enough of what that shit does to know not to put a drop of it in my system.

Grandpa was an alcoholic.

Mom was/is an alcoholic.

Yeah, totally not going there.

"This party is kind of lame," Travis yells, downing the rest of the beer in his bottle.

"For sure. Better than being home, though."

Travis has been quiet most of the night, drumming on his legs like he’s been doing a lot lately. If it wasn’t for ball, he’d be in a band. He has drums in his garage that he’s always screwing around with.

"What’s up? You’ve been weird."

Travis shrugs, without giving anything away. He twists his hat around so it’s facing frontward.

"You still think it was the right thing to break it off with, Trina?" I ask. Part of me wonders if that’s what’s bothering him, but the other part wants to know for myself. Will I regret it if I end it with Mel?

"Yep. I know it was. I’ve met like three different girls since then!"

He sounds like Travis when he’s speaking, but something is different. His face is sort of tight. Maybe it’s just that he hardly ever wears his hat like that.

"Oh, Orange. Twelve o’clock." He nods his head behind me. I turn and see the top of an orange head above the crowd. It’s faded a lot since yesterday. I’m assuming she spent like three hours in the shower trying to get that crap out. Now it’s more like an orangish-brown leaf instead of a carrot.

No matter what color it is, she’s not tall enough for her head to be over the crowd like that. "What’s she doing?" I ask, as if Travis knows more than I do.

"Don’t know. Let’s find out." He starts weaving his way through the crowd with me at his heels. The closer we get I realize she’s standing on a coffee table. Standing isn’t the right word, she’s dancing up there, like she’s in her own little world. It’s not really a fast song, but not a slow song either, but her body is swaying back and forth to the music. Her eyes are closed, so lost in what she’s doing that I wonder if she’s made herself think she’s alone. I could never do that—block everyone else out like that. Well, I guess I kind of do when I’m playing, but it’s different.

Kira turns, puts her arms above her head and shimmies. There’s a group of people standing around the table, watching her, but I know she’s not doing it for them. She’s doing it for herself.

She’s wearing a leather-looking skirt and a short shirt. A sliver of caramel skin on her stomach shows when she lifts her arms.

"Wow…" Travis says from beside me.

I can’t find the words to reply.

A guy jumps up behind her, wraps his arms around her waist to try and dance with her. My feet start to carry me forward, but I stop when she pushes him down, then gets right back to what she’s doing.

The song fades into something louder, harder. She jumps up and down to the beat a couple times and then leaps to the floor. All the people around her are talking to her, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. She smiles at them all, replies to a few, but starts walking our way.

Once she gets through her crowd of admirers her eyes scan the people before landing on us. Or me. Or us. I’m not sure.

"Fancy seeing you here." I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or Travis, but I’m hoping it’s me. She wipes her forehead and I swear, it’s never been so sexy to see a girl sweat before. Back up, Shaw. You still have a girl. Stop calling this girl sexy.

"It’s a party. Not like we’d miss it." Travis answers her. She turns to me.

"Are you a party animal, Carter? You don’t seem the type." Her voice is light, flirty.

I hold up my soda. "Nope. I’m benched."

She smiles, grabs the soda out of my hand and drains it. "Thanks, Sleepy. Though I’m not sure I can call you that anymore. I’ll have to think of a new name for you."

 I’m struck dumb. I can’t think of anything to say. My name is Carter? Why do you need to come up with a new name for me? All of it makes me sound like a loser so I nod, which I’m pretty sure has the same affect.

"Good game, guys. Congrats on your first win."

"Thanks."

Travis has suddenly started talking to someone else who walks up. It shouldn’t, but it makes me happy. I’m not sure why, but I want this girl all to myself right now. Which is all kinds of dumb. Might make me an a**hole too since my girlfriend is somewhere at this party, but it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.

"So does that mean you’re going to come to the games? Now that you know we won’t embarrass you?"

"Ugh! I guess. Thanks a lot. Normally I’m not really a sporty-kind-of-girl, but I actually enjoyed it a little. Now you’re giving me a personality complex."

I’m pretty sure she’s always had one. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her what kind of girl she is. She’s not a sporty girl, not a cheerleader. She dances on tables and would rather walk than get a ride. She doesn’t even dress in the same style two days in a row or keep the same hairstyle or color for long. Does she know who she is? I’m dying to find out.

"Everyone should love basketball. You should be happy I’m making you love it. It’s the only place in the world I can totally lose myself."

Holy crap. I can’t believe I just said that.

She puts her hand on her hip, looking thoughtful. "And why would you need to lose yourself, Carter Shaw?"

All sorts of lies start popping into my head. Covers for what I meant. Jokes to play it off, but I can’t make any of them come out. Instead I go back to my earlier method of making myself look like a loser by standing there and doing nothing.

"Let’s bail!" Travis grabs my arm, pulling my attention away from Kira. "A couple guys are going to start a game outside."

My limbs start feeling jumpy, ready to let loose on the court.

"You just got done playing. You guys are obsessed."

Nope. Not obsessed, but definitely needing to clear my head. This girl makes me feel like I’ve been drinking more than caffeine and sugar tonight. "You don’t get this good by not practicing." I wink at her, feeling a little more like myself, but also knowing it’s a good thing for me to get away from her. I might not know what’s going on with me and Mel, but I do know I do not need to let myself get wrapped up in someone when l have a girlfriend.

"Catch ya later, Kira."

"See ya, Carter."

***

It’s not a challenge to play ball with a bunch of drunken, or at least buzzed, people. But it’s definitely fun. My cheeks hurt from laughing so hard at all the times everyone except for me has landed on the ground, tossed the ball over the backboard when going in for a layup, or even bounced it off the rim, hitting themselves in the head.

These are the kinds of drunk people I can handle. Kids are supposed to screw up and drink, right? I mean, that’s what being young is about. Screwing up and learning from it. By the time you hit Mom’s age, you’re supposed to know better.

Speaking of… "I’m done!" I call out.

"What? Are you wussing out on us?" Travis replies.

"Nope. I’m going to find my girlfriend." Which I don’t really want to do, but I guess it’s time, right? Even though she’s ditched me all night, somehow it will be my fault so this way, at least I can say I tried. But that’s after I do what I really stopped to do.

Walking toward the side of the house, I pull out my cell phone, hit the number two and wait for it to call Mom. It’s eleven, but I know she’s up. She usually reads or watches TV in bed until I get home. Well, when she’s sober she does.

My heart rate picks up a little, jumping from the already accelerated beat from playing. Will she be sober? But then I remember she will. She told me it wouldn’t happen again and Mom wouldn’t lie to me.

"Hellllllooo."

Ice freezes across my body. That one word. That one hello changes everything because I know what kind of greeting it is. It’s not a tired hello. It’s a drunk hello. I hear it in the tone of her voice. The way she drags the syllables out. That’s all it takes.

"Mom?"

She pauses before saying, "Hey!" Her voice is a little clearer, but it’s too late. I already know.

I feel like there’s a basketball shoved in my throat. Like my heart has multiple personalities, switching between a rapid beat and wanting to stop all together. How could I have thought she’d quit? Or quit for me, I mean.

Somehow I find a way to exhale a breath around the basketball. As long as she meant it when Sara’s home, that’s all that matters. She never really promised to quit all the time. Just with Sara.

"Can I stay at Travis’s house?" The words come from nowhere but the tenseness in my muscles, the ache in the pit of my stomach tells me I can’t go home. Can’t see her because then I’ll be mad. I am mad, but this is my mom and I don’t want to hate her. Which is what I’m afraid will happen. If I keep seeing it, I’ll hate her.