The Resolution of Callie & Kayden(5)
I feel like I’m stuck in the past, and I want to move forward. My therapist tells me I need to all the time. But it’s more complicated than it seems and depressing to take in sometimes – the lack of family I have and the fact that I’ll never truly have a group of people there for me.
There is one person who always gets me through my despair, though.
Callie Lawrence.
She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My ray of sunshine through the rain, the clouds, the storm that’s hovered over my head. She can make me smile when I’m down, laugh when I’m unhappy. She’s the one person who has ever loved me, and who I completely and wholly love back in a way I can barely understand sometimes.
I honestly thought I could never love anyone the way I love her. That I’d never know how to love since I never really learned how to. However, Callie showed me how to open my heart – at least, when it comes to loving her. She makes it so easy and sometimes it confuses me because why couldn’t my family just do it – love each other instead of being so full of ugly hatred?
‘Kayden, get your head in the practice!’ my coach hollers as he waves at me to get my ass on the field. I’ve been standing on the sidelines, staring at the end field for who knows how long, lost in my thoughts.
Getting my head back into practice mode, I jog into the center of the field, hooking the chin strap as I join my other teammates in the huddle. We’re in our practice uniforms, the field icy from last night’s intense temperature drop, and it’s still fucking cold. But it’s good to be outdoors, distracting myself from the thoughts that haunt me whenever I’m in my room alone. Playing clears my head more than anything else, except for maybe talking to Callie, who I get to see when practice is over.
Still, even when I’m playing, I can hear his faint voice telling me what to do. It’s always there whenever I’m doing anything athletic and sometimes when I’m asleep. I hate that I hear it, but after years of it being drilled in my mind, I can’t get rid of the sound.
Run.
Do better.
Go faster.
Play harder.
Keep going until you break.
It’s only when I’m dripping with sweat and completely in the game that I can barely hear my father’s voice in my head, my heart thudding too loud to hear anything but the overworked beat of it. It makes me love/hate football – love it for me, but hate it because of him.
Still, I focus on what I need to do for practice, putting my heart into playing well, running the drills, throwing, catching, playing as good as I always do. By the time we’re finished and I’m heading to the locker room, the sweat has soaked through my uniform and my brain is too exhausted to think so I’m feeling pretty good. Coach pulls me aside before I go inside and tells me how good I’m doing, but then gives me some things to work on. He usually does this, but he’s been on my case a lot this year since we’ve been playing so well. There’s been a lot of talk about my future in football, even though I’m still a sophomore and still have a ways to go before the draft comes into my sights. I’m grateful for the time, too, because I’m not even sure what I want to do anyway.
My whole life my dad threw me into sports and I always excelled at them, so it just seemed like that was the path I’d follow. And I love playing, but sometimes I wonder if there’s more to life than this. If maybe there’s something out there for me that’s not connected to my father’s dream for me and the sound of his voice constantly haunting me with every run and throw I make.
After I go to the locker room, I take a quick shower and change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Then I slip my jacket on and head out to my car in the parking lot. It’s not the best-looking car in the world, but it’s better than my motorcycle and gets me to places. Plus, the great part is I bought it myself, from the part-time job I have at the local gym. It’s all mine; my own little pride and joy. Not my father’s.
I climb inside and rev up the engine, tossing my bag into the backseat. It’s getting late; the sun has gone behind the mountains, so I turn on the headlights and push the car into drive. I’m about to pull out of the lot when I get a text message, my phone buzzing in my pocket
Pressing on the brake, I stop the car near the exit to take my phone out of my pocket, smiling because I know who the text is from before I even check it.
Callie: Hey! Where r u? I thought we were supposed to meet at your dorm at seven, but you’re not here …
Me: Sorry, I’m running a little late. Coach wanted to talk about stuff.
I frown at the intentional avoidance of the subject. I haven’t talked to Callie about the uncertainty of my future in football – or the uncertainty in my future period. She’s always so positive and knows exactly what she wants out of life; it makes it difficult to talk to someone who knows what they want.