The End of Junior Year #2
Abby nodded at Kate and led her away from their giggling friends.
Kate tried to stop her from getting more drinks, pulled her back by the tie like she’d longed to for hours, but then released her and apologized before their faces came dangerously close.
And in the brief minutes apart, Kate ached for her to return, surviving off glimpses of her from the corner.
“I don’t know if I can drink any more,” Kate hiccupped when Abby returned.
“It’s club soda.” Abby winked.
Kate sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“To turning two.”
The lights cast her skin and gaze in a golden hue. She locked eyes with Kate as if up to bat, choosing the perfect pitch, driving that record-breaking swing.
“To turning two.” Kate clung to the pleasant weightlessness, surely the result of the booze and having Abby to herself. Something she hadn’t allowed herself since Isla’s. “And to next season.”
“Already on to next season?”
“Isn’t that half the allure of softball? Looking forward to the next chance?”
Abby chuckled. “Maybe. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.”
“Definitely a blessing,” Kate said.
Their eyes met again, and Abby cleared her throat, leaning closer to speak above the music. “Is this miserable for you? Slumming it at Sunny’s?”
“It’s fine.” She sipped her club soda, hopeful but unconvinced it would sober her. She braced herself on the table to not sway, and when she glanced at Mick, she frowned. “Are you really going to hit on Haley’s friend?” Her delivery landed more hostile than intended.
Abby smirked. “I don’t know. Would it bother you?”
Kate’s mouth fell. “No.”
Abby inched closer. “I know we didn’t talk about it, but I’m sorry about what happened after Isla’s.”
“It’s fine.” Kate glanced away, as if a single look might reveal that Abby’s affections that night resulted in her first climax.
“I know I made you uncomfortable.” Abby twirled the thin straw in her bourbon. Kate’s heart pounded as Abby brought her mouth to her ear, her words vibrating into her cheek. “I just feel something when I’m with you.”
Kate nearly dropped her drink. She didn’t fully know what Abby meant, but her gaze said the rest. The same as in the car. Sometimes I wish I could have more of you. “We can’t.”
Abby sighed. “Because of Blake.”
“And because I’m not—” Kate couldn’t finish the sentence. She wasn’t afraid to say it, but in light of recent events, she didn’t know if she meant it.
“Right.” Abby nodded, a faint frown pulling down her mouth.
Kate didn’t know if the booze or their closeness inspired her, but she blurted a confession as if she might drown beneath it. “I feel confused when I’m with you.”
“Good confused or bad confused?”
“It depends.” Kate paused. “It feels good, but it scares me. I’m not supposed to.”
“Not supposed to what?”
“Want you.” Kate shuddered. She felt lightheaded. Someone bumped into her, and she nearly toppled over before Abby braced her.
“What if I wanted you too?” she whispered with hands around her forearms.
Kate bit her lip. “It wouldn’t matter.”
Abby opened her mouth to speak when Blake interrupted. “ ‘Adios, Abby Cruz! It’s outta here! ’ ” He topped off his unwelcome arrival with her father’s catchphrase. “Get it? It’s like Audie but it’s Abby.”
She released Kate. “I’m not drunk enough for this,” she muttered.
Kate frowned. “Don’t get too drunk.”
“You seem a little tipsy yourself.” Blake wrapped an arm around Kate and kissed her. When their lips parted, she caught Abby as she scowled and tossed back the rest of her drink.
What had the potential to be a great night, a night with Abby’s undivided attention, transformed into an awful one. Kate wished to disappear, wished she hadn’t come at all. Especially as Mick joined them with Haley Stewart and her friend.
“Hey, guys!” Mick bounced on her toes, hands twitchy as she gestured. “You know Haley, right?”
“Good to see you again.” Kate smiled for Mick’s sake. Her friend stared at Haley like she’d pinned the moon in the sky. And Haley shone as if she had, eyes reluctantly breaking from Mick.
“Good to see you too.” Haley nodded at the group, rested a grin on Kate, Abby, and Blake. “Congrats on the season. And on the draft, Blake.”
“Thanks! They’re projecting eighteenth round now. Brewers are interested.” He grinned.
The blonde at Haley’s side cleared her throat and Mick scrambled to introduce her.
“This is Haley’s friend Zoey.” Mick hastily pointed out Kate and Blake, but nearly shoved her at Abby. “Zoey, this is Abby.”
Kate tensed as Abby shook her hand.
Zoey’s crimson lips curved with a smile. “Mick was saying you broke some school record?”
“Was she?” Abby smirked. “She’s my biggest fan.”
“The biggest.” Mick clapped her shoulder. “Maybe we should get some drinks?”
“Please.” Abby darted her eyes at Kate, the look reminiscent of the unknowable glares that had leveled her at the beginning of the year. Kate narrowed her brow back.
“You want to go?” Blake asked when they left.
Kate shook her head and stared at the group at the bar. Stared at Abby whispering in Zoey’s ear, much like she had hers. “No, let’s stay.”
She observed Zoey from a distance. Her chest was fuller, her dress more revealing, her legs thinner, golden curls bouncier, her giggle daintier.
Kate suddenly hated her own modest dress, her bulkier muscles, and the way everyone around her treated her like a square.
She hated that when she told Blake she couldn’t drink any more alcohol, he brought her a beer because that’s what he was drinking.
She hated that no matter how hard she tried not to, she never stopped looking for Abby.
“I think she’s got it in the bag!” Jill yelled with Dylan’s arm around her waist, drink sloshing to Kate’s feet. Mick and Haley swayed together on the dance floor. “Can you believe it?”
“No,” Kate said, but she stared at Abby, leading Zoey outside by the hand.
She kept watching as Abby lit a cigarette for her, smoked one of her own, laughed, trained eyes on her, leaned too close for comfort.
When Zoey kissed Abby’s cheek, Kate’s chest spasmed as if struck. She turned away before witnessing more.
“Can we leave?” she asked Blake, who was in the middle of telling a story.
“Yeah, hold on, babe.”
“I need to go.”
Kate started for the door without him, bumped haphazardly through the crowd, and chanced one last glance against her instincts, in time to see Abby’s mouth on Zoey’s. She rubbed away a tear, more aware than ever why she couldn’t finish her sentence that night.
Abby woke in the blue house living room to mark the end of junior year.
She stirred beneath a quilt, a beanbag chair sagging beneath her.
Her head pounded as she stood and flopped to the couch.
She had her first day of work that afternoon and already regretted subjecting herself to summer classes and a part-time job.
Just as she prepared to steal a few more hours of sleep, footsteps creaked on the stairs, and Kate rounded the corner.
She popped her head up from the cushions. “Hey.”
Kate froze. “I didn’t know you slept here.”
Abby almost replied, Me neither, but shrugged instead. “What are you doing up?”
“I was just going on my run.” She tightened her ponytail and kept her gaze on the floor.
She wore an Insley Athletics sweatshirt and running tights.
Abby thought her irresistible at the banquet, the simple black dress a magnet she couldn’t resist. But seeing her like this, without makeup, bleary with sleep, much like on their road games, never failed to melt her.
“Did you have a good rest of your night?” Abby asked.
The downstairs bathroom door squealed open, and Zoey slinked out.
“Oh hey,” Zoey said. She was a pale, mascara-smeared vision of unwell.
“Morning,” Abby said.
“I’m just leaving.” Zoey straightened out her dress. “Thanks for everything.”
“Yeah.” Abby didn’t move as the front door shut, awaiting Kate’s reaction.
“Nice,” she said, jaw clenched.
“Hey, nothing—” Abby paused.
Last night, after Kate’s rejection, she’d encouraged Zoey’s advances, as if jealousy might change her mind.
She wanted Kate to realize that wanting each other mattered, that every graze, every glance, the light touch of a forehead, mattered more than anything to Abby.
She wanted her to know that the next three months loomed torturously because she wouldn’t get to see her every day, hear her voice, or search her eyes to discern her mood.
Worse, however, than how much she wanted to scream and shake Kate until she understood, was Abby’s fear of breaking her.
She recognized Kate’s terror when she confessed to wanting her.
She knew it went against the faith she staked her character on.
It made it impossible to know which was crueler: professing her love or keeping it from her.
“Nothing happened. Mick and Haley came back here, so Zoey wanted to too. I slept on the beanbag.”
The sloppy make-out session was unsatisfying and short-lived. It didn’t take long for Zoey to start talking about her ex. Abby listened through a few drinks, patting her shoulder when she cried, certain but not sorry she wouldn’t see Zoey again after that morning.
“I saw you kiss.”
“It was nothing.” Abby hated the way Kate refused to look at her. Hated that she wanted to beg for forgiveness despite doing nothing wrong. “Kate. Come on. Are you mad?”
“No.”
Kate didn’t reverse her frown, but flicked her eyes up. She sat next to Abby and rested her head on her shoulder. Abby’s heart stilled. She survived off scraps, off hovering, grazes, a rare handhold, dipping her toe in and out, like a game of how much she might pilfer. But this beat all.
Abby wrapped her arm around her, rested her cheek to her chestnut locks, relished her aroma of soap and rain.
Kate released a heavy, trembling sigh. They didn’t speak for several minutes.
Abby ignored the drum in her chest, so accustomed to its rhythm now that she knew it was simply a song for Kate.
“When does your bus leave?” Abby asked.
“Two o’clock.”
Abby rubbed her arm and Kate leaned in deeper. “I’m going to miss you.” She forced a chuckle. “I don’t know how I’ll get through summer classes without you.”
“You’ll be fine,” Kate said.
“Are you sure it’s safe where you’re going?”
“I’ll be safe,” she said. “I’m more worried about the flight. I don’t know how I’m going to handle a day in the air without my turbulence buddy.”
“I guess you’ll have to find a new one,” Abby whispered into her hair. She dared to set her lips there for a beat, didn’t purse them, but settled for another scrap of close but not quite.
“I wish I didn’t have to.” Kate shifted and cupped her cheek, placing a thumb at the corner of Abby’s mouth with such beautiful regret that it warranted tears.
Her forehead came next, gently bumping against Abby’s for a rest. She held Kate’s shoulders and closed her eyes, wishing to stay there for longer than they’d ever allow themselves.
“Good thing it’s just a few months.” Abby reluctantly opened her eyes.
Kate nodded as she withdrew. “I’ll miss you.” This time they hugged, long and tight.
“Send me a postcard,” Abby said. “And a map. I’m not sure where Zambia is.”
Kate smiled. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try not to.” Abby stayed seated as she stood to leave. “Have a good summer, Kate.”
“You too, Abby.”
She waited until Kate left, and then she groaned, certain that the only thing worse than scraps would be summer.