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The Force of Gravity(8)

By:Kelly Stevenson


“So, you’re going to be angry with me now? Because I won’t let you in my pants?”

His eyes cut to mine. They appear dark in the dim room. “I’m not an asshole, Kaley.”

I say nothing.

“You need to figure out what you want,” he says, turning away from me.

“Oh, so it’s all or nothing, is that it?”

His face tightens. “Don’t give me that. You know me better than that, Kay. I love you. I just want to be with you. I want to move forward.”

I take a deep breath. “I’m just tired, okay? I’ll see you later.”

“Whatever.” He slumps down on the couch.

I grab his keys off the side table. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” I offer softly. He always has a way of making me feel guilty.

He ignores me and turns on the PlayStation.

“Nice,” I say as I storm out, slamming the door behind me.





CHAPTER FIVE



I AM EXHAUSTED ALL WEEK. If it isn’t my parents’ fighting keeping me up at night, it’s my own thoughts. No matter how hard I try to be logical about the whole situation, I find myself more and more unsatisfied in all areas of my life. And to my dismay, it’s showing. Perhaps my feelings—or whatever they are—are just an escape from what’s really bothering me.

When I think about no longer attending USC in the fall, it upsets me, sure, but I know it’s something deeper. I just can’t put my finger on it. Was it only a couple weeks ago that moving to Los Angeles sounded exciting? It just seemed so full of possibilities and adventure at the time—and I was thrilled to finally have a piece of my future planned out. But when I step back and think about it all, USC wouldn’t have been that different from my life now. Emily and Derek would still drag me to all the parties, only this time I’d be the tagalong friend and fighting off frat boys instead of Tommy. Same life, different city.

The truth is, I’ve been discontent with my life ever since Mr. Slate walked into it . . . but maybe it isn’t just him. Maybe he just struck a chord in me that’s been waiting to be plucked for a long time. Maybe I’ve been waiting to erupt like a volcano for years, and Mr. Slate is just the earthquake that set me off.

All I know is I want something more from my life. Something more than movies, dinners, and pointless parties with our foursome that always ends at the Larson’s house with Emily and Derek frolicking in his bedroom, while I’m left fending off Tommy’s invading hands in the den.

Tommy says I need to figure out what I want, but how can I? I have no idea what I want. I want to go to a study session. . . . The uninvited thought springs into my mind like a reflex. Why do I want to go? Why would I want to waste my time? I know I’m not the first student to find a teacher attractive—national news headlines have made that uncomfortably clear—but how many people would waste a Friday night studying precalculus just to be in the same vicinity as their teacher?

Maybe my attraction to Mr. Slate is just an escape for me—an escape from the reality that no longer quenches my thirst. And whether it’s out of pure boredom, or clandestine curiosity, I realize I need to go to a study session. Just once. Get it out of my system. For whatever reason, he’s shaken up my small, predictable world. It’s gotten to the point where my friends can feel it, too—and it’s creating tiny cracks in our solid friendship. When the next game-free Friday arrives, I decide to crack it a little more.



“OKAY,” I BEGIN my statement in front of the jury once again. “I didn’t do that great on the quiz last Friday, or my last test, and I still hung out with you guys. Let me go to the study session tonight.”

“Well, thank you for gracing us with your presence, Kay. We’re so happy you chose us over a study session for a class you have an A in,” says Emily, her words covered in frost.

“I won’t have an A for long,” I mumble, knowing my excuse is lame.

“Did you forget that Derek’s parents are in Sedona all weekend? We’re having a party,” she says as if it’s an obvious choice.

And maybe it should be.

“Yes, I know. I’ll swing by after. That’s no big deal, right?”

Tommy’s eyes are hard. “Whatever, Kay.”

“Seriously? You guys are going to be pissed if I come by later? I’ll probably be there by like eight or nine o’clock!”

“What’s the big deal?” mumbles Derek with a mouthful of sandwich. “She won’t be missing anything before nine o’clock, guys.”

Emily’s shoulders drop. “But we always hang out before the party. We always get ready together. You were supposed to come over right after school today, remember?” Great. She’s resorted to whining.

“Okay, well, it’s just one night,” I say.

Tommy snorts.

“What?” I snap at him.

He shakes his head and gets up from the table. “Nothing,” he mutters before stalking off.

I sigh. “What’s his deal?”

Emily raises an eyebrow and gives me a glassy stare. “You haven’t been that nice to him lately.”

“What are you talking about?” There’s no way she knows about me leaving him mid-make-out on the couch last Friday. He’s way too prideful to ever let that out.

“All week, Kay,” she starts. “You were a drag last Friday night, and you’ve been kind of distant all week. What’s going on?”

I have? I guess I haven’t really paid attention . . . maybe that’s the problem.

She’s still glaring at me with contempt, and I shrug.

“Nothing, Ems. I’ve just been tired.”

Her expression gives away that she isn’t buying it, and I don’t blame her. Despite it being true, it’s still a poor excuse. I’m thankful when the lunch bell rings, cutting our conversation short.



I WAIT ON the wooden bench after school, but Tommy never shows—I can’t believe he’s this upset. After Derek leaves, Emily sits down next to me.

“He’s never not shown,” I mumble in disbelief.

“I don’t think he’s upset because you’re coming to the party late. Something’s up and you’re using math as an excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse,” I say, my tone more defensive than I intend.

“You have an A, Kaley. Yet, you constantly obsess over your grade. You’re always saying you’re tired. And frankly, you’ve been pretty bitchy lately.”

I give up. “Ems, please. I really don’t feel like going to Derek’s party tonight. Like, at all.”

She shifts her body to face me. “Okay, tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Nothing, I’m just over it.”

“Over what?”

“I don’t know. The same old stuff. I’m just bored, I guess.”

“Bored with what? Tommy?”

“I don’t know. Just bored with life. Don’t you ever want more?”

She scrutinizes my face. “More what? We have our entire lives ahead of us.”

“Yeah, but are you happy with your life right now? Are you satisfied?”

“I mean, yeah.” She hesitates. “What’s wrong? Are you just freaking out over USC? Your parents will come around, I know they will.”

“No,” I say with a hard laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“They will,” she insists. “They probably just need some time to get used to the idea. And if they don’t, just take out student loans. No one can stop you, Kay.”

“Yes, they can. They’d have to cosign. And before you say it—no, I don’t qualify for any grants. I’m screwed. I don’t care anymore, anyway. I don’t want to talk about it.”

She sighs. “Okay. I get why you’re upset, but don’t take it out on all of us.”

I slump back on the bench. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.”

It’s probably for the best that she thinks I’m a mess because of college and the uncertainty of my future. And sure, I’m stressed about all those things . . . but I know there’s something deeper stirring inside me.

“Look, Kay. It’s fine—just go to your stupid study session, but make sure you make it up to Tommy tonight. Come to the party and show him how much you love him. I think he’s worried about you.” She nudges me on the arm and smirks. “Maybe wear his favorite dress and make him feel like a man.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not losing my virginity at a party.”

She laughs and gives me a quick hug. “I’ll see you tonight, math nerd. Say hi to Professor McHottie for me.”

My heart flutters against my will.

“If the blonde chick is there, rip her eyes out for me, will you?” she teases before trekking off to the parking lot.

The Blonde. I’m sure she’ll be meeting him tonight after the study session. Just like I should be meeting my boyfriend. I know it’s pathetic, but I’m looking forward to the study session more than the party. I know Emily and Tommy will be mad if I don’t show up tonight, but I just want some time with Mr. Slate before going home and crawling into bed.

And that’s what I plan to do.



WHEN I GET home, I almost drive over to Emily’s and forget the whole thing. I’m furious with myself for overthinking this. I try to distract myself with some homework, but my nerves are in overdrive. Why can’t I just be content to party with my friends like a normal teenager? Why do I have to make my life so complicated?