It's Thursday again, which means it's time for English comp. I'm heading to class right now and very nervous.
I haven't heard from Kara since we ate lunch last week. We didn't exchange numbers because she left so quickly. So, I found her on MySpace and facebook and added her on both. But she never added me back.
I'm worried she's angrier than she let on for how I treated her. She was surprisingly forgiving. Maybe she thought about it more and decided she wants nothing to do with me.
I’ve even lost a little bit of sleep over everything. I feel so horrible for what I did to her. Seeing her again made me realize just how awful it was of me to disappear on her without a word.
I was only 9. And I was having a really hard time, but telling myself that doesn't make me feel any better.
So, if she decided she hates me, I guess I wouldn't blame her. Although that would mean she's changed a lot over the last 10 years, because she wasn't the type who would ever hate anyone. She was the sweetest little girl around. And I was the spiciest. We balanced each other out.
I'm standing outside the classroom now. I take a deep breath and open the door. My eyes are immediately drawn to the large blonde girl sitting in the back of the class.
Should I approach her? Or…maybe I should give her space? Yeah, I should give her space.
Just as I'm thinking about this, she sees me and gives me a big smile and wave and points to the seat next to her.
I feel all of my anxiety dissolve as I take my seat next to her and return her smile.
She says, “Hey, I forgot to get your number.” She hands me her flip phone, “Put it in there for me. I'll do the same with yours.”
I do as she asks with a big smile on my face.
She must be the type who has social media but never checks it. I could definitely see that. Kind of embarrassing that I was so stressed about everything now.
She doesn't need to know about that.
…
Now we're at lunch. Though a more abbreviated one this week because she has to get to another workout. And she wants to be on time this time.
She just finished explaining what her schedule is like for basketball right now.
“So…it’s like a part-time job?”
“Yeah, kind of. I have 15 hours of class and 20 hours of basketball each week. It’s kind of intense.”
I nod, “Sounds like it. But you like it, right?”
She smiles, “I love it. That’s why I won’t stop talking about it. Sorry.”
I laugh, “That’s okay. It’s a big part of your life. I like hearing about it. When did you get so into it?”
“Well, I always liked it. Remember, we used to play HORSE sometimes?”
“Oh yeahhh! There was a basketball goal on the same tree where we had our tree house, right?”
She laughs, “Yep. My dad put it there. Was hoping it would get me into it.”
“Well, mission accomplished, I guess?” Suddenly I recall something about our games of HORSE, “Hey wait…didn't I always win?”
She smiles, “Yep. You did. I was pretty bad back then.”
I chuckle, “Kind of funny now. When did you start playing competitively?”
I'm surprised when she frowns and starts fidgeting with her napkin, “I…spent a lot of time at that goal…after you left. I didn’t want to go all the way up into the treehouse without you. I thought…I’d wait to do that until you came back. And we'd play up there again together. But…playing basketball was okay ‘cause it was never our thing, and I could do it with my dad.”
I feel a sharp pang in my chest.
Once again – I’m a horrible person.
“...Oh. Shit. I'm sorry.”
“I-it's okay. You helped me find something I really love, in a way.” She sighs, “I should probably stop bringing that stuff up.”
I shake my head and put my hand on her shoulder, “I want to know how it made you feel. And it just came up naturally anyway. Don't censor yourself for my sake.”
She nods, “Okay.”
I poke her arm, “So hey…I'm finally back now. Is the treehouse still there?”
She chuckles, “Kind of. It's in ruins, though. We can't get in it without a trip to the hospital, I don't think...”
“Well…I still think we should go visit it when we get a chance.”
She smiles, “Sure. We can even play some HORSE.”
I have a feeling I won't be winning this time.
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“-ou okay?”
“Huh?”
I feeI Kara's hand on my shoulder, “I asked…are you okay?”
It's Saturday and I’m on the path that leads to Kara's parents’ front door. It's a familiar place.
Even more familiar is the house next door. The house my family used to live in. Somehow, I hadn't thought about seeing it again. Now I can't look away from it. Only once Kara said something did I realize I was stock still staring at it.
I need to push all of that out of my mind. Or I'm not going to make it through this.
I look at Kara, who looks concerned for me. I put on my best smile, “Y-yeah, I'm good.”
We continue along the path to her front door.
Kara gives me a smile and opens the door and I follow her in. It opens right into the living room. Her dad is sitting on the couch watching TV. He immediately gets up to greet us.
While his hairline has receded a bit since I last saw him, he largely looks how I remembered. He has short blonde hair and blue eyes like his daughter. His immediate smile tells me he's probably as nice as I remember too.
He greets his daughter with a warm hug and then extends his hand to me,“It’s nice to see you again, Emily.”
I shake his much larger hand, “You too, Mr. Olson. I-it's um…been too long.”
When I was a kid, everyone seemed tall. So I didn't really notice how exceptionally tall Mr. Olson was. He's several inches taller than Kara. He's probably the tallest person I've ever met. I probably shouldn't have been so surprised that Kara grew so much.
With a wink and a smile he replies, “It sure has. We were thrilled when Kara told us you were in her class.”
…
Dinner has been really nice. Kara's parents have been really welcoming despite how long it's been. In some ways, it feels like I never left.
Being around them reminds me that they are super sweet, polite people. The whole house feels like it's full of warmth and positive energy. I find myself feeling a little envious, since that's the exact opposite from what it's like around my parents.
Just as I'm thinking about this, Kara's mom asks, “How are your parents, Emily?”
Ugh. I really do not want to talk about them. Not right now. I need to answer this and get out of it at the same time.
As I'm formulating a plan, Kara says, “Actually mom, we wanted to check out the treehouse and stuff before it gets dark. Can we be excused?”
Mrs. Olson frowns, “Oh alright, but I would like to catch up with you some time, Emily. This won't be the last we see of you, I trust?”
“N-no ma'am it won't.”
She nods, “Then you can be excused.”
I nod and then Kara and I get up and head to their expansive backyard.
Kara smiles, “I got you out of there this time. But mom loves gossip. I don't know how long I can protect you.”
I grimace, “It was that obvious I didn't want to talk about my parents, huh?”
“Well…you told me the divorce was hard. And…you looked really sad when you saw your old house.”
Ugh. She can read me so well even when I'm trying to hide how I'm feeling.
I nod, “Y-you’re right. Thank you.”
She takes a few steps out into the yard and points toward the one oak tree, “There it is.”
I look where she's pointing and I see our dilapidated treehouse nestled between the branches. The roof is completely gone and most of the wood that still is there is in bad shape. It's also overgrown with vines and moss and all manner of other plant material. The ladder we used to climb to get up there has lost all but one of its rungs.
I feel myself starting to get emotional about the state of it, so I look away and change the subject. My eyes fall on the half-basketball court and basketball goal that weren't here when we were kids. It even has lines painted on it, like a real basketball court.
“That's new.”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Kara snorts, “New to you, I guess. Been here a few years now.”
“Should we play a game of HORSE?”
She laughs, “Sure. Let me go get a ball.”
As she fetches a ball from the shed, I refresh myself on the rules.
If I make a shot, she has to make it too or she gets a letter. And vice versa. And whoever spells out HORSE first loses.
Kara returns with the ball and takes a casual shot from like 30 feet away from the basket and it goes in. I catch the ball after it bounces towards me and grimace.
“I…don't think this is going to go well for me.”
Kara laughs, “I bet it will be closer than you think. Just shooting doesn't really let me take advantage of the height difference.”
I click my tongue, “Whatever. You just made that crazy shot! And I still only know how to shoot granny style!”
I get a few feet in front of the basket, take hold of the ball with both my hands and lower the ball between my legs before bending my knees and moving my arms upward before releasing the ball. It doesn't even get high enough to be remotely close. The ball bounces away.
Kara cracks up laughing. Eventually she doubles over and puts her hands on her thighs. I'm a little annoyed at first, but then I can't help but start laughing with her.
“It would seem that…while you've gotten big and strong the last 10 years, I've only gotten less athletic.”
This is going to be brutal. At least it will be over quickly.
…
I just lost horribly. Now we're sitting on some patio furniture in the yard, not far from the treehouse.
“Well…can't say I didn't see it coming.”
Kara laughs, “Hey! You gave me one letter!”
I roll my eyes at her, “I only made that one shot. And I'm 99 percent sure you missed that shot on purpose.”
She laughs without denying it, “Hey…Em, thanks for coming out here.”
I think I can probably look at the treehouse now without getting upset. I think it's hard for me to look at because it's so different in my memories. And it's another sign of how much I let her down.
Either way, I need to do this. For her, and for me.
“Of course. It's about time, right?” I look up at the dilapidated tree house and extend my hand to her. She takes it with a smile.
It's a lot harder to actually lead her by the hand now that she's so much bigger than me. But she's going along with it.
We stand up and I lead her to a spot where we can more closely admire it. We look up at it for a few seconds, and I find what I'm looking for. It's a now very dirty white board that we velcroed to the side of the treehouse. The once brightly colored refrigerator magnet letters spell out:
>
>
> LP A ET G RL
“Hey, the sign is still there! Amazing that most of those magnets held on for so long.”
Kara laughs and smiles at the treehouse, “Yep.” She furrows her brow and then looks at the ladder, “Actually…hang on a sec.”
She lets go of my hand and walks up to what's left of the ladder and gives the one remaining step, which is about three rungs up, a hard kick. When it doesn't give way, she grabs the sides of the ladder and pulls herself up on the step. It makes a loud crackling noise when she does.
“Hey…be careful!”
“I will. It'll just take a second.”
Kara looks up at the treehouse and stretches her left hand out as far as she can. She manages to just reach the whiteboard. Realizing what she's doing, I position myself underneath the treehouse.
She slips the tips of her fingers behind it and pulls. The velcro makes its characteristic sound, and the whiteboard falls into my outstretched arms.
As I celebrate my athletic feat by holding the whiteboard above my head and grinning, Kara nimbly leaps off of the ladder and claps her hands together to get the dust off of them.
After her far more impressive athleticism, she smiles at me, “Good thing you can catch better than you can shoot.”
I pout at her, “Hey! I was really proud of myself for not dropping it.”
She claps me on the shoulder, “I know. Good job.”
I smile and look down at the sign. She gets next to me so that she can look at it too.
She chuckles, “We were very proud of our silly club name. Our two person club.” She shakes her head, “Man, we were dorky.”
I giggle, “Yep. I think those two dorky little girls would be glad the Alphabet Girls are back together, though.”
Kara smiles, “They would be.” She points at herself, “This dorky college girl is happy about it too.”
I laugh and point at myself, “This one is too.”
----------------------------------------
Lately, I haven't been hating things in this town so much. I’ve tried a little bit harder. I’m not disassociating as much in class. Some of them are actually kind of interesting now that I'm giving them a chance.
History and Psychology have both surprised me. The professors here are so much more engaging and interesting to listen to than anyone in high school. That’s made it easier.
It's lame, but I think it’s because having Kara here has made it a lot easier to imagine myself staying here too. She was here when I was a kid and I liked it here. So maybe the same is true now?
But…I’m still not sure I want to stay here. I did decide it would be kind of a waste not to at least finish out the semester though. So I’m not about to leave, either.
----------------------------------------
Kara and I are hanging out in my dorm room. This has become the norm for the evening for the last couple weeks.
On days when she doesn't have evening basketball stuff, we eat dinner together in the dining hall and then come back here to hang out.
It's kind of like our new treehouse. I even hung the “ALPHABET GIRLS” sign on the wall behind my bed. Complete with new letters for the ones that were lost to time. Those brighter letters stick out next to the more faded ones.
We're both sitting cross-legged on my bed.
She just finished telling me about practice today. I didn't understand much of it, but the passion she has is amazing. So it's hard not to smile and enjoy her stories even when I don't understand what's going on.
I'm getting pretty excited about actually seeing her play later in the semester.
“What position do you play?”
She smirks at me, “Are you even going to know what it is if I tell you?”
Ah, so the fact I know nothing about basketball hasn't gotten past her. I thought I was doing a better job of faking it. Of course, my performance in HORSE didn't do me any favors.
I laugh, “Probably not. But you can explain. I want to understand.”
“I play Center. Do you know what that means?”
I shake my head before she even finishes her question, making her laugh.
“Basically…it means I'm the biggest, strongest girl on the team and stay near the basket. I take short range shots on offense, block short range shots on defense, and get lots of rebounds on both.”
I nod as I try to decipher her explanation.
She laughs at my silence, “Any part you didn't understand? I tried to avoid using slang and stuff.”
“Um…I think I get most of it. But…what’s a …rebound?”
She thinks for a moment, “Yeah…I guess if you've never watched basketball that isn't super obvious, huh? That's when someone misses a shot, and the ball is up for grabs. The person who gets it, gets the rebound.”
I nod, “Ah, so it rebounds off the basket. I can remember that. And you're good at it because you're tall and strong?”
She nods, “There's a little more to it than that, but that's good enough for now. You know, you really don’t have to know everything about basketball to be my friend.”
“I know. But…it’s a big part of your life. And you love it. I want to know the basics about what you do. That way I can cheer properly when the season starts.”
She smiles, “I will be able to teach you.” She winks at me, “Maybe I'll even show you how to shoot a basketball the normal way.”
I laugh, “I could definitely use some coaching. So…the center is the biggest girl on the court?”
I'm a little surprised to see her smile falter a little bit. Then she nods.
So she's tall even for a basketball player.
“How tall are you, anyway?”
Her smile is completely gone now, “6 foot 5.”
Holy SHIT. She's a foot and three inches taller than me. I knew she was really tall. But hearing the number somehow makes it more impressive.
I can't be stunned for too long though. Not when she's clearly a little upset.
“Sorry, sore subject?”
She picks up the pillow off my bed and hugs it to her chest, “Kinda. I get asked all the time. Including by strangers who don't even start with a ‘hello’. You wouldn't believe how often I get asked if I play basketball.”
I laugh, “Well…you do, right?”
She doesn't laugh, “That's not the point, Em. Point is some people treat me like I'm some sort of attraction. Not a person.”
I frown, “I always thought being tall was all upside. Guess not, huh?”
She shakes her head, “If I were like 5 foot 10 that would be one thing. But 6 foot 5 and 230 pounds is…kind of freakish territory for a girl.” She shrugs and looks a little sad, “I'm glad my size and strength make me good at basketball. But when I'm off the court?” She frowns and looks down at the bed and hugs the pillow a little tighter. Only now do I realize she's trying to hide her body behind it.
It breaks my heart a little bit.
“Honestly, I really don't like how I look. I hate my body. B-big but flat as a pancake is a weird combo.”
“You have a great body, though!”
She doesn't look convinced.
I guess I'll be more specific.
“You're in amazing shape. I'd kill for your toned legs or butt. And I'd love to be taller too!”
Kara blushes, which makes me blush too. She quietly asks, “Would you trade me a few inches of your chest for a few inches of my height?”
I giggle, “Do you know some weird plastic surgeon in this town?”
She laughs, “No. Just joking. Plus even if it was possible to trade, coach would probably kill me for giving up what she calls my ‘God-given gift.’ You should probably keep yours too.”
“Did you just call my boobs divine?”
“I…guess I sorta did, huh? Am I wrong? I bet people like ‘em.”
I blush a little myself now, “You're…not wrong. But believe it or not, it sounds like having big boobs isn't too different from being really tall, when it comes to how other people interact with you.”
“Yeah? People ask you your cup size without saying hello?”
I sigh and scratch the back of my head, “Let's just say…that has happened a nonzero number of times.”
Her eyebrows shoot up and her jaw drops, “Seriously?! I was just joking. I guess having big boobs isn't all upside either.”
“Yeah, most people have the decency not to ask about my measurements. But some people - usually creepy dudes - stare like I'm an object, not a person. So…I know a little of what you feel.”
Kara nods, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you. What you deal with is way worse.”
I shrug, “It sucks sometimes. I'm happy with my body, though. It…doesn't sound like you feel the same.”
She frowns, “Yeah. You're right.” She gives me a cute smile. “But…y-you telling me you like my um…butt…helped.”
I laugh, “Good. You know, we should go shopping sometime. I think we could find you some stuff that would help you see how cute you are.”
She looks down at her university t-shirt and athletic shorts, “Yeah, I suppose you've noticed I'm not much of a fashionista. I'm whatever the opposite is. I…kind of hate shopping because I don't look good in anything.”
I look at her for a moment and tap my chin while I think, “I can think of a few things you'd look great in. But yeah, it'd need to be a day trip to Sioux Falls to find a place that will have the right stuff in the right size.”
She still doesn't look convinced. In fact, she looks really anxious.
I put my hand on hers, “Hey…we don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable. I think you look great how you're dressed now, really. I just know that you don't feel that way. And if I can do anything to help you see it too, I want to.”
She looks at me and smiles bashfully.
It's adorable she has the same mannerisms she had as a little girl. Every time she does that I get this rush of nostalgia. It's like I see her as she was at 9 and how she is today at the same time.
“Thank you. That's really sweet. I-I’m just…really scared you won't find anything. And then I’ll feel even worse.”
“Kay - there is a 100% chance I find you something you’ll love.”
She smiles, “W-well…if you promise. Okay…can we do it on Sunday?”
“Yeah! That's a good idea.”
I hope I didn't oversell that. I AM working with what’s available in a pretty crappy mall.