So Much It Hurts (8 page)

That night, my dreams were plagued by those deep, haunting eyes again. I woke up more exhausted than I had been before I had gone to bed. The dark circles that encompassed my eyes were proof of my restless night. I stood at the bathroom mirror longer than usual trying to hide my fatigue with my liquid makeup concealer.

“Kaitlyn!” my mom yelled up the stairs. “You’re going to be late for school!”

“Coming, Mom!” I put on the finishing touches of my makeup and flew down the stairs; I didn’t want to be late for school. Not only would Trevor get angry and question my whereabouts, but I also didn’t want to miss an opportunity to catch a glimpse of the face that infiltrated my mind, keeping me up all night.

That afternoon in Theatre Arts was much the same as the day before. Ms. Carducci lectured us about the history of the Globe Theater while I tried my best not to stare at Chris. My anxious heart refused to stop pounding, causing red blotches on my chest and cheeks. About midway through class, I caught Chris looking down at his desk. He was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. Lost in thought, I knew he wasn’t paying any attention to me stealing occasional glances at him. Relief flooded me and the pounding in my chest subsided. I reveled in the pleasure of watching him as his eyes gazed down at the paper. Clearly, he was in deep concentration. His fingers made their way to his temples and pressed as if they were trying to squeeze out a thought. His eyes narrowed as he studied the writing on his paper. Leaning ever so slightly toward him, I tried to peek at the paper in front of him. Just when I thought I saw what looked like musical notes, he quickly began scribbling again. I stared at him, memorizing every detail of him.

He was dangerously handsome. His dark eyes were set deep beneath jutting eyebrows, and his black hair was tousled on his head in total disarray. His shoulders were broad, and his muscular arms peeked out beneath the sleeves of his taut T-shirt that only showcased them even more. The scent of his masculine cologne wafted toward me, and I inhaled a deep, staggering breath. At that moment, he glanced up at me, and his gaze caught mine.
Crap!
I could feel the blood surging adrenaline throughout my body again. My stomach quivered at the sight of his delectable, chocolate brown eyes settling on me. One corner of his mouth tilted upward in a half smile as he gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. As if in a trance, I smiled back at him unable to tear myself away from his stare. As quickly as he looked up, he returned his attention back to the paper and continued scribbling.

I literally felt breathless.
How could a guy I barely knew have that kind of effect on me?
I spent the rest of the class period trying to concentrate on the teacher’s lecture. When the bell finally rang to end our time in class, I noticed that my notebook paper was filled with pictures of dark irises and question marks. Shamefully, I ripped the paper up and tossed the shreds into the nearby trashcan on my way out the door to meet Trevor.

“So,” Allison asked at cheerleading practice that day, “do you know anything about the new guy?”

“Not really,” I said, trying hard to remain casual.

“Well, I heard that he escaped from juvie in another state and transferred to our school under a new name,” Rachel piped up.

Eva nodded. “Yeah, I heard he ran a drug ring in his old school, and when one of the kids from a rival gang showed up dead in a nearby lake, they pinned it on him.”

“Guys,” I said, exasperated, “come on. Do you really think all of that is true?”

“Well, that’s what I heard.” Eva’s eyes were wide with worry.

“I seriously doubt it,” I said defensively.

They didn’t sit next to him in class. They didn’t rush to school each morning to see if they could find him in the crowd of students. They didn’t watch him while he poured his heart onto his paper during class. Their dreams weren’t saturated with his enchanting eyes.

Every day felt like the same old scenario. Trevor and I continually argued, and our heated disputes became more and more frequent. I tried everything I could to avoid Trevor’s fiery rage. The harder I tried to squelch his anger, the less happy I became. I realized I was becoming a doormat. Trevor stomped all over me and left me feeling dirty and used. My bruised ego and suffering self-esteem drifted aimlessly down the hallways of the school as I somehow managed to get through each day while trying to keep a smile on my face. After all, a cheerleader was always expected to be happy…and peppy. I miraculously faked them both.

The only time I felt in control of my life was on Friday nights at the football games. I was in my own world as I yelled at the top of my lungs in front of the crowd. The onlookers roared along with us in support of our football team’s first big game that year. Our team, the East Jenkins Bulldogs, was playing our arch rivals, North Wingate Patriots. It was the biggest game of the season. Everyone was expected to come out and root the Bulldogs to a victory. The cheerleaders anxiously stood by the field house to cheer on the team as they trotted out onto the field. Excitement coursed through my veins. I knew this was a big game for Trevor. He would never admit it, but he was nervous. Several scouts from colleges had come to check him out that night.

Being captain, Trevor led the team out onto the field. He looked like a champion already in his football uniform. Resembling a warrior, he headed into battle with black stripes painted below his eyes. His head held high, he proudly trotted across the field holding his helmet above his head while the other football players bellowed their battle cries. The crowd roared to life as the players rallied around Trevor on the sideline. I knew it was Trevor’s night to shine, and although I would never admit it, I felt incredibly proud that I could call myself his girlfriend that night.

The game was in the third quarter, and the score was 20-14, with our team in the lead. Trevor had scored two of the three touchdowns for the night. Eric, our kicker, did not seem to be on top of his game. He had already missed one extra point. Except for a few minor injuries, the game had been fairly uneventful. The humdrum of the game didn’t prevent the crowd from continuously thundering with excitement. The frenzy never subsided.

We were in the middle of a cheer when I caught
him
out of the corner of my eye. At the top of the bleachers, Chris was sitting amidst a group of guys, but his eyes weren’t on the game. They were on me. I almost lost my train of thought as I struggled to keep my mind in focus. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to be too obvious. Involuntarily, my smile widened at the thought of him watching me.

After the game, I waited by the field house with Allison. Trevor’s third touchdown of the night had won the game for our Bulldogs, 33-28. Eric had missed another extra point, but that didn’t seem to matter to anyone except him. The cool night air buzzed with excitement. I always loved when our team won because Trevor was in a great mood the rest of the night.

He jogged out of the field house in faded jeans and his lucky Bulldogs T-shirt. “Hey, babe!” He greeted me with a huge smile. Hugging me, he lifted me off the ground and swung me around full circle.

“Trevor, you were awesome tonight!”

“Man, that was the game of my life! We almost didn’t make it, though. I couldn’t believe they almost had us down by one point!”

“I know!” I cried. “But, you did it! Those scouts are sure to love you!”

“Man, that game rocked!” Putting his arm around me, he walked me to his truck. “Wanna meet some people at Spud’s?” he asked as he opened the door of his truck for me.

“Sure!”

Spud’s was a local diner where a lot of kids hung out on Friday and Saturday nights. The owner, a former Bulldog, always gave free food to the football players after home games.

When we got to Spud’s, we found Allison and her boyfriend already seated. The greasy scent of fried food filled the air. Flashing signs in the windows beckoned customers with
‘Eat Here’
and
‘Open Late’
in bright neon colors. The black and white checkered floor, the laminate table tops, and the retro lights hanging above each table made me feel like I’d stepped out of the twenty-first century back into a 1950s diner. Several other football players and their girlfriends were hanging out in the booths nearby, while others hovered around the vintage juke box in the corner choosing songs from its meager selection.

“Trevor!!!” several guys yelled in unison as we walked through the door. The hero had arrived. I hung back as Trevor received some high fives, a few punches to the shoulder, and a couple of tackling bear hugs.

Spud, a nickname the owner went by, came out of the kitchen with a tray full of burgers and fries. “Good game tonight, boys!” he bellowed as he placed the tray in the middle of the hungry football players.

“Thanks, Spud!” several guys said, and the feeding frenzy began.

Trevor was lost in conversation, recounting the plays of the game with his teammates when I slipped away from the table and headed toward the bathroom. While I was as happy as I could be at that moment, I just needed a minute to myself.