Free Capture the World by R. K. Ryals

“What—”
     
    “Would you let it go? I don’t know you. Not really. Not enough.”
     
    “Okay.” He leans back. “So, let’s get to know each other, huh?”
     
    “Matthew, I’m not trying to be difficult, I swear I’m not, but you just popped into my life at a very weird time for me. Things with my mom …” I can’t go there. “I don’t even know why you talk to me.” I throw him a look. “And don’t do the whole ‘you’re beautiful’ thing. Because that’s just weird. Not that you wouldn’t want to talk to a girl because you think she’s beautiful. I mean …” I shut my mouth, grimace, and add, “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
     
    Babbling is a problem for me.
     
    “You are beautiful,” he insists, “but there’s more to it than that. I’ve been there. Bullied until all you want to do is hide. Having people feel sorry for you. I like that you’ve never treated me like a disability.”
     
    A short laugh escapes me. “Because I’ve been just as mean to you as to everyone else? Or because I generally ignore you? That makes me feel so much better.”
     
    “Hey, you don’t play favorites.”
     
    He’s trying to turn this into a joke.
     
    I reach for the door handle.
     
    He stops me, his hand capturing mine. “The guy on the football team really did a number on you, didn’t he?” He squeezes my hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
     
    “Good.” I push open the door.
     
    He steps out with me. People stare.
     
    “I was totally okay being anonymous,” I say when he joins me.
     
    “I want to play professional basketball, so I have to disagree with you. Anonymity sucks.”
     
    “Not funny.”
     
    He takes my hand.
     
    Eyes widening, I try pulling away, but he doesn’t let go.
     
    “What the hell are you doing?” I hiss.
     
    “Proving that not all guys are assholes.”
     
    “I never said—”
     
    “I saw it in your face.” Walking toward the building, he draws me along, keeping step next to me.
     
    “This isn’t proving anything,” I reply, tugging at my hand.
     
    He releases me. “I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you.”
     
    “Is that what you think happened?”  
     
    He glances down at me. “Isn’t it?”
     
    A lump forms in my throat because he’s right. It was my sophomore year. Bradley Cochran was a senior, handsome, and completely devoted to making out with me. In secret. I’d been a lot more open then, toward people and situations. Guys talked to me.
     
    Oh, they still worried. Everyone had heard about my mother, but I was friendly and so normal. At least that’s what Bradley told me. Truth was, I was still reserved, held back by responsibilities at home, but I had been willing to try. It had all been a joke, an excuse to find out exactly how crazy my mother really was—like a haunted house that everyone wants to break into to see, and then runs away from when they finally get the chance to experience it.
     
    Bradley had seemed perfect.  
     
    Until I introduced him to my mother.
     
    Afterwards, the rumors at school grew, becoming so ridiculous, they became legendary. And then, suddenly, I was as crazy as my mother.
     
    “My junior year. Bailey Henderson. She was a senior, and at the time, the older woman thing was pretty awesome,” Matthew says suddenly.
     
    “Huh?” I peer up at him. “Bailey?”
     
    Bailey Henderson is an athlete like Matthew, a tall redhead who played on the girls’ basketball team. She graduated a year ago.
     
    Matthew’s gaze meets mine. “We were a hot item that year. Would have lasted, too, I think. If she hadn’t realized how hard it is being in a relationship with a deaf man. That summer, I took the hearing aids out. I try not to wear them when I know I’ll be in the water a lot. Always having to look at me or getting me to look at her frustrated her. She also hated to drive when we spent anytime near the water. It was just all too much work for her.” He shrugs.