Before
*Kayla*
August 29, 2015
“Kayla, would you put that thing down?” my mother scolds as she walks past me, heading toward the kitchen counter to grab her purse and car keys.
I mumble incoherently, refusing to lift my eyes from the pages of the book. Just a few more lines and I’ll complete the chapter…just a few more…
The book is plucked from my grasp, and I let out a groan, looking up to see my mom holding it, her pointer finger wedged in between the pages to mark my spot. I bite my bottom lip, smiling sheepishly. She hates when I spend hours upon hours a day reading.
But hey, I always look at it like this: I could be spending my time like every other high school student…getting drunk at chaotic parties or doing brain-killing, life-threatening drugs.
She still doesn’t see it my way, however.
“I have to go pick up your sister from rehearsal. Then we’re going to the grocery store. Do you want anything?” my mom asks, quirking an eyebrow.
I stare at her for a moment. We share no resemblance…apart from our noses perhaps. Her hair is platinum blonde, and even though she dyes it, she was blonde from birth. Her eyes are a brilliant blue while mine are a dark hazel. She has paler skin that she goes to tanning salons to alter while my skin is naturally darker. She’s tall and thin, and I am short at five feet five inches and have a little more meat to my bones.
I take after my dad, who was French and very much deceased. While my mother does a wonderful job supporting two children, I miss my father more than anything. However, he left both Katie and me a great deal of money for our future, ensuring we have a good start in life.
“Oranges, please. And some more Captain Crunch cereal.” I flash my doting smile. My mother shakes her head but seems to make a mental note of it.
“All right. We’ll be back in about two hours.” I roll my eyes at how accurate she is. It takes a normal person an average of thirty minutes to shop. Meanwhile, it takes my mom a good two hours. “Hey!” she calls, and I lift from my thoughts, looking at my mom again. She points her Chevy Traverse key at me. “Don’t forget Kyle Perkins is coming over in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, Kayla.”
“Got it, Mom!” I salute her and hold out my hand for my book. She gives a little growl as she hands it back and leaves the house. Rolling my eyes, I open the book and proceed to the next chapter.
Kyle arrives at my house twenty-five minutes later, unusually tardy. I hold open the door as the teenager walks over the threshold and straight for the kitchen table. I lean against the doorframe and look at Mrs. Perkins, who offers me a soft smile.
“I’m sorry we’re late. He’s had a rough day.”
“It’s totally fine. No worries.” I wave it off, returning her smile.
“All right. I was just called in to the hospital, so my eldest son, Dallas, will be picking Kyle up. However, Dallas has to work today as well, at five. So the tutoring will have to be cut short by an hour. Is that okay?” Mrs. Perkins asks.
I nod my head. Does she know she’s asking a teenager? One who desperately wants to spend the rest of her Saturday finishing Francine Rivers’ Redeeming Love? I’m totally fine with it, although I do enjoy Kyle’s company.
Mrs. Perkins fishes through her purse and produces a fifty dollar bill. “I’ll still pay you in full.” She grins, a look of apology in her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“Bye, Kayla. Thank you again. Bye, Kyle! Behave!” she calls through the house.
“Bye, Mrs. Perkins. Go save some lives.” She huffs and then turns to walk back to her car. Closing the door, I clap my hands and join Kyle in the kitchen.
“You hungry, handsome?” I ask.
Kyle is thirteen and looks much like his mom. His big blue eyes look up at me as he rests his chin on his crossed arms. I can tell by the expression on his face that something has happened. He has a look of sorrow.
“Banana?” he asks. I nod my head and pluck a banana from the bunch. I also grab us each glasses of water before sitting across from Kyle.
“Why so glum, chum?” I tilt my head to the side. Kyle accepts the banana and peels it from the bottom. I scrunch my brows together.
Noticing my expression, he says, “When you peel from the bottom, you avoid those nasty strings.” I watch as he does so and am astounded to see he’s right. The banana is clean, with no dangling strings. He takes a bite and leans back in the chair, staring intently at the table.
I don’t say anything to him. He heard my question, and he’ll answer when he’s ready. So we sit for a good three minutes as he eats his banana and I sip my water.
“Dallas works tonight. Again.”
Dallas. Everyone at Waubonsie Valley High School knows that name, no matter what grade you’re in. He’s the all-star basketball player. He turned Waubonsie from a football school to a basketball school in a matter of three games his freshman year. We have won state twice with him as our captain, when he was a sophomore and junior. Now we’re aiming for our third this coming winter.
Dallas Perkins is confident and egotistical. He always has his arm slung around the shoulders of some girl; every week it seems to be a different one. His best friends, Tyler and Mikey, are always by his side, and the three of them seem to run the school in an oh-so-cliché way as well. With his exceptional grades and his exemplary skills at basketball, Dallas is looking at a full ride at his top school: University of Illinois.
“He’s bailing on me again.” I frown, listening to Kyle.
“He’s not able to play basketball again tonight?” I ask, even though I know the answer. Kyle nods his head, his mouth in a pout. I can tell he’s trying to control his emotions. “I know it’s hard to understand, Kyle, but your brother has responsibilities at his job. I’m sorry that it cuts into your time with him, however.” Kyle just simply shrugs.
I let out a sigh and watch as he begins to dig his nail into the wood of our kitchen table. I know I should stop him. This is an expensive piece of furniture that my mom adores, but I can’t bring myself to trouble the boy further.
“How about I play with you?” I ask suddenly.
Kyle lifts his head, arching an eyebrow. “You? Play basketball?” The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, and I know he’s judging me. He thinks I can’t play.
“I’ll have you know I’m a great basketball player.” I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back in my chair.
“I’ll crush you,” he challenges.
“Let’s find out.” Kyle’s eyes seem to brighten, and he nods his head quickly. “All right. Only if you finish your homework,” I bargain.
Moving quickly, Kyle unzips his backpack and pulls out his homework, slamming it on the kitchen table. Together, we attack his studies.
We finish his history homework just as the doorbell rings. I smile and ruffle Kyle’s hair as I hop to my feet and jog to the door, pulling it open. “He did great today, Mrs. Per—” I cut myself off when my eyes land on Dallas.
Stupid. And I knew he was coming too…
Dallas offers me a bored look as he takes in my appearance. I’m wearing black sweatpants and a gray Star Wars shirt. My hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, and I flush, understanding that I look mediocre next to him.
“Kyle! Let’s go!” Dallas shouts, his blond hair falling across his forehead. He flips it to the side and shoves his hands into the pockets of his black skinny jeans. I gulp, watching as the muscle cords in this arms flex as he does so. He is definitely a fit teenager.
“Are you done?” he snaps, bringing me from my thoughts. I lift my eyes to blush even redder. He caught me staring.
Lord, take me now.
“Dallas! Kayla is taking me to play basketball at seven tonight! Isn’t that awesome?” Kyle cheers as he shows up beside me, throwing a punch to my arm. I jolt, instinctively rubbing the spot he just hit.
Dallas snorts. “Should be fun.” He looks amused, and I’m sure he doubts my ability to play, just as his younger brother had a few hours ago. “Let’s go. I have to work.” Kyle’s smile drops.
“I know you do,” he grumbles, walking out of the house. “See you at seven!” Kyle yells over his shoulder as Dallas leads him toward his dark green Jeep Wrangler.
Dallas shoots me a look from across the yard as he gets into the car, almost threatening me.
Stay away from my kid brother.
That night, Kyle and I played to forty points. I beat him 40-38. Kyle is a really good player for his age. I even took the liberty of showing him some new moves that he could use on his brother. Sometimes being short is an advantage. And Kyle is quick.
I haven’t a doubt in my mind that the next time they play, Kyle could beat Dallas.
As I drive Kyle back to his house, I make a silent promise that whenever Dallas can’t play, I will fill his spot. Kyle has a love for the game, an undying passion. It should be fueled as much as possible, and if I am needed, I’ll help bring this boy up so that perhaps one day, he will be greater than Dallas.