Read Online Like Jazz by Heather Blackmore - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Blackmore
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intelligence, pushing hard but not too hard. Having been her doubles partner in a tight match, I found her to be nurturing, self-confident, tenacious, and gritty. She was all of this and more off court, whether a resourceful and analytical study partner who followed through and demanded excellence, or a fun, kind, giving, and loyal friend to those she cared about. And of course, on or off court, I couldn’t help but be struck by her physical beauty.
Slow on the uptake, I realized that afternoon for the first time what a beautiful person she was on the inside. She’d held me when I needed to be held and backed off when I needed space. How she knew when to do one instead of the other was a mystery. But I felt grateful for it, for her. More than grateful, I felt somehow expanded, like I was a fuller version of myself when I was with her. Through the very simple act of sharing herself with me, she made me feel like I was a better person than I was—richer in spirit, more complete. What’s more, instead of feeling undeserving of her, I was buoyed by her. She lifted me up to a place that made me sense we were both special, worthy, and deserving of happiness.
After practice, I went to the library for an hour before heading back to the parking lot to wait for my mother. Mom was notorious for telling me “five minutes” when she really meant twenty, but if I wasn’t where I was supposed to be on the rare times she actually did come in five minutes, I’d catch hell.
As I made my way to my usual perch on the short wall, Kip was straddling his bicycle, speaking to another boy who was sitting in a car in the senior lot, talking to Kip through the rolled-down window. I decided to walk over. I stopped about twenty yards from where they conversed, and after another minute or so, the driver and Kip exchanged a fancy dude handshake and the driver sped off.
“Kip!” I called. He turned to me and his face lit up with a bright smile. He hopped off his bike as we approached each other.
“Hey, you,” he said. “I was hoping I’d run into you today, but I figured you’d be long home by now. You waiting for a ride?”
“Yeah.”
“You should get some wheels.”
Not wanting to get into the gory details of my family’s moving history and why a car was not in my immediate future, I went with a simple reply. “Yeah, I should. Hey, I wanted to talk to you about this Homecoming thing.”
“Great.” His earnest response wasn’t helping.
“I really don’t think I’m up for it. I know you mean well and you think it’ll be fun, but it’s hard for me to get excited about it.”
His smile evaporated.
“Trust me, I’m not one of those girls who says no because she’s hoping for a better offer. I think your offer is great, and if I were going, I’d love to go with you.”
He searched my eyes for the truth. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
“But it’s not because of me?”
“Definitely not.”
He smiled slightly. “Then let’s bail on the dance and go out instead. You and me. On a date.”
I gasped in disbelief. “Kip! No! It’s your Homecoming! This is your fourth year at Claiborne and it’s your time to celebrate. I practically just got here. I don’t have that kind of history with this place or with any of you guys. You’re super-awesome and a ton of girls want to go with you. You need to go to Homecoming.”
“Forget about Homecoming. Say yes and go out with me.”
I sighed heavily and practically whined his name. “Ki-ip.”
“Ca-azz,” he teased me, sing-songing my name as I’d done with his. “Well?” He grinned.
“God, you’re a royal pain in the ass.” I shook my head with a smile, finding him annoyingly endearing. “Fine. You win. I’ll go to Homecoming with you.”
*
Practice ran long for Kristin and me on Wednesday, since Coach had us playing a doubles match against our best singles players, Joanie and Sandra, to work on their volleying. Kristin and I were on fire,
Slow on the uptake, I realized that afternoon for the first time what a beautiful person she was on the inside. She’d held me when I needed to be held and backed off when I needed space. How she knew when to do one instead of the other was a mystery. But I felt grateful for it, for her. More than grateful, I felt somehow expanded, like I was a fuller version of myself when I was with her. Through the very simple act of sharing herself with me, she made me feel like I was a better person than I was—richer in spirit, more complete. What’s more, instead of feeling undeserving of her, I was buoyed by her. She lifted me up to a place that made me sense we were both special, worthy, and deserving of happiness.
After practice, I went to the library for an hour before heading back to the parking lot to wait for my mother. Mom was notorious for telling me “five minutes” when she really meant twenty, but if I wasn’t where I was supposed to be on the rare times she actually did come in five minutes, I’d catch hell.
As I made my way to my usual perch on the short wall, Kip was straddling his bicycle, speaking to another boy who was sitting in a car in the senior lot, talking to Kip through the rolled-down window. I decided to walk over. I stopped about twenty yards from where they conversed, and after another minute or so, the driver and Kip exchanged a fancy dude handshake and the driver sped off.
“Kip!” I called. He turned to me and his face lit up with a bright smile. He hopped off his bike as we approached each other.
“Hey, you,” he said. “I was hoping I’d run into you today, but I figured you’d be long home by now. You waiting for a ride?”
“Yeah.”
“You should get some wheels.”
Not wanting to get into the gory details of my family’s moving history and why a car was not in my immediate future, I went with a simple reply. “Yeah, I should. Hey, I wanted to talk to you about this Homecoming thing.”
“Great.” His earnest response wasn’t helping.
“I really don’t think I’m up for it. I know you mean well and you think it’ll be fun, but it’s hard for me to get excited about it.”
His smile evaporated.
“Trust me, I’m not one of those girls who says no because she’s hoping for a better offer. I think your offer is great, and if I were going, I’d love to go with you.”
He searched my eyes for the truth. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
“But it’s not because of me?”
“Definitely not.”
He smiled slightly. “Then let’s bail on the dance and go out instead. You and me. On a date.”
I gasped in disbelief. “Kip! No! It’s your Homecoming! This is your fourth year at Claiborne and it’s your time to celebrate. I practically just got here. I don’t have that kind of history with this place or with any of you guys. You’re super-awesome and a ton of girls want to go with you. You need to go to Homecoming.”
“Forget about Homecoming. Say yes and go out with me.”
I sighed heavily and practically whined his name. “Ki-ip.”
“Ca-azz,” he teased me, sing-songing my name as I’d done with his. “Well?” He grinned.
“God, you’re a royal pain in the ass.” I shook my head with a smile, finding him annoyingly endearing. “Fine. You win. I’ll go to Homecoming with you.”
*
Practice ran long for Kristin and me on Wednesday, since Coach had us playing a doubles match against our best singles players, Joanie and Sandra, to work on their volleying. Kristin and I were on fire,
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