Freeing Carter(13)
Author: Nyrae Dawn

My eyes fall closed and I shake my head, knowing she got me. "Fine, but just so you know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone. And if I step on something and get hurt, I’m totally suing."

"Deal." She takes my Nikes and pulls them on. They’re obviously big on her. I doubt she’ll even be able to run without tripping. "And at least you have socks. That’s some protection."

"Socks? Protection my ass." This time, it’s me who mumbles, "girls" the same way she did boys.

"Okay, so what’s first, coach?" She holds out her hand, answering my question about whether we’re really playing basketball class or not. I toss her the ball.

"Let me see how you shoot." I grab her arm and pull her forward a little, about where the free throw line is.

With her feet apart, she pulls her hands in the air and I stop her. "Nope. Not right at all. Here." I step up behind her. Patting one of her legs, I say, "Move this leg a little. Yep, like that. Raise the ball up, with two hands, but put one on the side a little." She does it, but wrong. Reaching my arms around her I touch her wrist. "Over a little. Yeah, like that. Then the other hand at the back of the ball."

I’m behind her, arms on each side of her, my hands on hers. It’s not until I smell girl that I realize how close I am to her. I don’t even know what the scent is—some kind of sweet perfume that goes straight to my head. Her back’s against my chest. My arms are around her. I suck in another breath because, man, girls smell good. When you’re this close to one, it’s impossible not to suck it all in and drown in it. "Is…Is this…okay?"

She chuckles. I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking or not, but I think it sounds a little more raspy than usual.

"Sure thing, Coach. It’s the only way to learn, right?"

Oh, yeah. This is about basketball. It’s the first time in my life I haven’t fully appreciated the sport because while it did get me this close to her, it’s not the reason a guy wants to be close to a girl. "Absolutely."

Trying to make myself concentrate on what I’m doing rather than how soft she is… What is that smell? Strawberries? Okay, I’m going the wrong way here.

"You’re going to bend your right wrist a little so the ball tilts backward. Smoothly flick your wrist forward a little, letting the ball kind of roll out of your hand, off your fingers. One fluid movement, ‘kay?" Basketball, basketball, basketball.

I step away from her. She shoots it hard, bouncing the ball roughly off the front of the rim. "Oops."

Running around her, I grab the ball and give it back to her. "Totally my fault. Hold the ball like you did last time." She gets into position and I get behind her. Teasingly, I push my knees into the back of hers, trying not to focus on wondering what her legs feel like. Trying not to regret wearing pants so I would know firsthand. "Bend your legs a little. Not too much, but enough to give yourself a little leeway. There you go. Like that. Arm up a little more. Perfect."

It’s dumb. All kinds of dumb, actually. I mean, I got dumped by Mel tonight. I’m all screwed up over Mom, but I need to feel her. Need to forget everything else, so I slide my hands down her arms instead of pulling them away before stepping around her.

"Okay, watch me." Did my voice just shake? I hope she doesn’t notice.

I bend my legs, put my hand up like there is a ball in them. "You’re going to push off the ground a little. You can jump, but you don’t have to. Just give yourself a little push. At the same time, shoot the ball. Nice and smooth, remember." I demonstrate a jump shot. "Your turn."

Kira stands there a few seconds, focusing on the basket, then does exactly what I said. Her form is almost perfect. The ball flies out of her hand. The arch is a little high, but that’s okay. Nothing wrong with a rainbow shot as long as it goes in. Which is does. Missing the rim completely and sliding straight though the net.

"There you go! Nothing but the bottom of the—umpf!" She flies at me like Sara does, crashing into me, but it feels different. Way different than my little sister launching herself at me.

"I did it!" The hug is too short for my liking. "I’m good, huh? See how fast of a learner I am? Come on, let’s do it again."

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. Ruining my white socks, I run for the ball and bring it back to her. She shoots a couple more jump shots. I try and teach her to dribble through her legs which probably isn’t the smartest move since she’s wearing a skirt, but it’s kind of fun. The layups don’t go as smoothly as jump shots, especially with the oversized shoes. It takes her throwing the ball over the back, bouncing off the bottom of the rim, and every other screw up you can think of before she makes one, but eventually she does. I swear her face brightens up enough to lighten the park if the lamps went out.

It’s not until she falls against the wall, sitting on the ground, that I realize I could probably do the same. I’m smiling so big, I probably look like an idiot, but I don’t care. I practically feel the light coming off me. I’m not thinking about Mel, worried about Mom or Sara. I’m not even plotting out how to win, how to get better because teaching her, this was just for fun.

I can’t ever remember having so much of it.

***

"Can I ask you something?" I turn to look at her, while we’re both sitting on the side of the court. Her legs are out in front of her, long and lean and I can’t even explain how hard it is not to stare at them. But the funny thing is, as much as I want to look, I also want to talk to her too. There’s a part of me that wonders if she’s insane…but a good insane. One that makes me wish I could be a little more crazy.

"Sure thing. Oh!" she turns to me. "We can have like, a bonding session, where we bare our souls to each other and become cosmically connected by our experiences!"

I can’t help but wonder if my eyes are as big as they feel. I know my mouth is hanging open because this chick really is nuts. Not sure this part is the good kind or not, but she’s definitely one player short of a team.

"Breathe, Coach. I’m kidding. I know a little bit about boys. The whole baring the soul thing isn’t something you guys excel at, right? Plus, while I like you pretty well, and I’m pretty much an open book, not sure I’m that open."

The shock still hasn’t worn off yet as she starts biting her fingernail like what she just said is completely normal. "Has anyone ever told you you’re crazy?"

"Umm, I’m pretty sure you did. I can’t remember. It’s getting kind of late though… what’s your question?"

Taking my eyes off her, I lean my head against the wall. "Well, this might be a little too bare-your-soul or whatever, but I was just curious… About your mom. Or your guardian. Just…" I shrug, realizing that I may have thought so before, but now I know that I am, indeed an idiot. What possessed me to ask her this?

"It’s okay, Carter. I don’t mind. You look like you’re about to take off running." She crosses her legs and looks up at the stars, quiet. I can’t help but look up too, wanting to see what she sees. A few minutes pass before she speaks.

"Lana used to work at a shelter in LA. She did the night shift. One night she heard a knock, and instead of a bum at the door, it was me." She laughs, but I’m not really sure what’s funny. "I know that sounds totally made up, but it’s true. Little baby all wrapped in a blanket on the porch. The only thing missing was a basket and I didn’t have a lightning bolt scar on my forehead. Or wizard parents, but everything else is similar."

All sorts of thoughts pound down on me at once. First, I realize why I wanted to ask her this, besides just wanting to know more about her, but I think I wanted her to have screwed up parents, too. Yeah, totally makes me an ass, but I need that connection with someone else. That piece of our lives that set us apart from others. Makes us feel…alone?

At the same time, I can’t stop thinking about what she said. Her mom…or maybe it wasn’t her mom. Does she even know? But someone abandoned her. Left her.

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 f**king 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.