An End To The Distance Page 4

  “Thanks professor. And don’t worry I will.”

  Peyton waved to Jasmine as she drove off and then jogged to her dorm. The next stranger she ran into may not be so friendly.

  “AND where were you?”

  Tegan pressed pause in watching her teaching session as Peyton jumped on her bed and swung her feet back and forth.

  “I could ask the same thing. I was here earlier and you were gone for a while.”

  “Yeah, I was. But I asked first so go ahead.”

  “I went for a jog but then I ran into Professor Dennings at the track and—“

  Tegan shut her laptop, giving her friend her undivided attention and threw her hands in the air.

  "Damn, why am I never near all the good action!"

  “Haha, it’s no biggie or anything Teegs. She was running on the track, asked if she could join and we ran together.”

  “Peyt, that sounds like a huge biggie to me! God, why couldn’t I have gone running today…what did she talk about?”

  Peyton took off her sliders and sweaty clothes, wrapping a towel around her body.

  “Can we talk about this after I get this dirt and sweat off of me?”

  “Fine, but hurry up.”

  “I will, chill.”

  Peyton ended up taking a thirty-five minute shower and Tegan was anything but pleased.

  “Okay, so what did she talk about?”

  Peyton chuckled as she began to comb her hair.

  “Damn, you would think a girl could put on her underwear before being interrogated.”

  Peyton explained to Tegan that Professor Jasmine told her how much she loved her poem that she had written and how meaningful it was.

  “You mean that figurative language poem? Yeah, not my best work. I just wrote about squirrels. What was so amazing about yours that Professor loved so much?”

  “I don't know. I couldn’t come up with anything so I just wrote about Kat.”

  “Can I read it?”

  “Dude, no way!”

  “Oh come on Peyt. I am your best friend. No judging.”

  “Yeah, but still—it’s personal.”

  “Yet you gave it to your professor as an assignment.”

  “Okay, that’s different.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  Peyton laughed and whipped Tegan with her damp towel.

  “No, that’s a no.”

  SEVEN

  PEYTON’S eyes flickered open and she immediately met contact with the ceiling. She was dazed and unaware of her surroundings. For that moment, she was fine. Then she realized what today was and suddenly she wasn’t okay anymore. She squinted her eyes shut, praying that she could just fall back into yesterday but unfortunately they haven’t taught her how to do that in her physics class. She rolled over and looked at Tegan sleeping with a content expression on her face. Why couldn’t her life be simple like hers? Why couldn’t the only problem in her world be charming her English teacher? Why did it have to be so complex with her? Peyton never recalled doing anything ungodly in her life to deserve this. So what was the issue?

  God gives his hardest battles to his strongest people.

  Peyton grunted. She sure didn’t feel strong. She felt weak and helpless. Peyton tiptoed out of bed regardless of her current thoughts. She threw on some dingy sweatpants and grabbed a ball and walked to the field to cross over to the courts. There was still morning dew on the grass but the sun had been up for quite some time now. Peyton shifted her weight from one foot to the other and juggled the ball around in her hands for a while, that keeping her mind busy. She did several tricks, always an entertainer for her and she didn’t realize that a smile had formed on her face. She loved handball. The things that she could do with the ball was fun for Peyton, she loved everything about it. That moment came back again. The moment where she didn’t have a care in the world and it didn’t seem to exist. She was in a utopia state and it felt liberating. She trotted up and down the court, shooting, juggling, playing with her ball and giggled when she didn’t do a trick correctly and fell right on her back. She left the court and returned to the semi-wet grass of the field and looked up at the sky. It was that beautiful shade of light blue and not a cloud in sight. Peyton sighed in content. What a view. God could produce some of the most beautiful sights. It was mind-blowing. Maybe today will not be such a bad day. Peyton commended herself for having her first positive thought in months and stood back up on her feet and juggled her ball to the school’s cafeteria. She had four pieces of bacon, eggs, and her favorite blueberry oatmeal with cool blue flavored Gatorade. It was game day and she was absolutely ready. No matter what the circumstances and who would be there, she was ready. She sat in the large cafeteria and people watched as the world went on around her.

  “Game day today huh?”

  Peyton spun around in her seat to meet eyes with her English professor. Peyton nodded as Jasmine took a seat across from Peyton, placing her plate of French toast down before her.

  “I actually plan on coming.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I use to play handball myself. Ages ago.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. I was a goalkeeper for Stanford. I was pretty good and loved it but my love for teaching was too much.”

  “Well that’s good. You’re like, the best in the English department here.”

  “Why thank you Peyton. So, you think you are going to win today?”

  “Think? I know. They are ok, but we definitely are better.”

  “You’re right. When I was there, we were unstoppable.”

  “So if you went to Stanford, why come here to teach?”

  “I wanted a change of scenery. Don’t get me wrong, it was a great experience for me as a student, but I don’t think I would’ve liked it as a professor.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I get what you’re saying.”

  “Are you gonna eat that last piece of bacon?”

  Peyton grinned.

  “All yours.”

  Jasmine happily reached for the bacon and put it in her mouth. Peyton and Jasmine's friendship only grew after freshman year when they discovered they shared a lot of interest in the same authors and books. Peyton would stay after hours only to have heated discussions about whether Melville or Hawthorne had the darkest soul and why. It was very therapeutic for the two as it acted as their escape from their complicated lives. After several minutes of casual talking, Jasmine looked down at her watch.

  “Shoot, I have class. I’ll see you tonight. Good luck.”

  Peyton raised her bottle of Gatorade to Jasmine to say thanks; her mouth too full to speak as Jasmine exited the cafeteria. Peyton later threw away her food and juggled back to her dormitory.

  TEGAN wore her yellow college t-shirt and a pair of navy sweats and flip-flops to class with her hair in an I-tried-to-look-casual-sexy-but-ended-up-looking-like-a-homless-hippy bun and a pair of reading glasses. It was her ritual on home games. She had to show her school spirit. She was proud to play for her college’s women’s handball team. It was an honor. Of course she got a couple of stares from the non-regular faces in the coffee shop like maybe they wanted to give her a dollar or a nickel or something but she ignored them. She was feeling too good. It was fucking game day. She happily walked in her Professor’s class with two cups in her hand. One with a sugared down latte and the other one of chamomile tea. Tegan had ordered a sample cup of chamomile tea just to see why Jasmine liked it so much but immediately spit it back into the plastic cup. Professor Dennings may be perfect but her taste buds sure weren’t. That was disgusting.

  “Good morning!”

  It was so nice to see Jasmine. Tegan thought she had gotten prettier since the last time she saw her. Maybe it was the white blouse that was hugging Jasmine’s body in all the right places. Or the black pencil skirt that hugged her tight ass. Or the stilettos that Jasmine was wearing that just added to her bitchiness. What in the hell—was today look like a fucking goddess day? Tegan sat the tea
on her professor’s desk and smiled at Jasmine who remained typing furiously on her computer. Maybe she didn’t hear her.

  “I got you your favorite.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jasmine mumbled. She never made eye contact with the younger girl. What was the matter?

  “Well aren’t you gonna drink it? It’s getting cold.”

  “Not now Tegan. I’ll—”

  Jasmine looked up at Tegan for the first time. Tegan had on reading glasses. It brought out the oh so many loveable freckles in her face and her high messy bun just made her look like an innocent teenager.

  Teenager being the operative word.

  “I’ll drink it when I’ll drink it.”

  Jasmine’s tone was so bitter; Tegan’s body erupted in goosebumps.

  “Okay.”

  Tegan whispered before turning her foot and walking to her seat. She was embarrassed. She didn’t know what she did wrong to put Professor Dennings in such a somber mood but she was and Tegan felt bad again. Like the only thing she was capable of was annoying people. Tegan stared at Professor Dennings the entire class period trying to detect what was wrong. She didn’t really get anything. Reading people wasn’t her forte. Well, reading Professor Dennings wasn’t. When Jasmine read to the class, she sounded happy. She wasn’t acting different to any of the other students, so why just her? Tegan thought they were on good terms now. What had happened? Tegan then remembered what had occurred last week with her meeting her father. Maybe Mr. Dennings told Jasmine that she had visited and Jasmine was angry with her for that. Oh no. She didn’t want to upset Jasmine. She just wanted to meet Jasmine’s father because he was sick and she just thought that—she just wanted to see what it would be like to be a part of Jasmine’s family. And yes that was stupid and naive of Tegan but she couldn’t help it. She felt this warm vibe when she met Professor Dennings’s father. They instantly clicked and it warmed Tegan’s heart to know that apart of Jasmine’s family liked her. It made her feel like…her and Jasmine were meant to be because she had already gotten along with her family. Tegan shook her head. She knew that none of that made sense but at the time it did. She had accidentally listened to her heart that time and so all rational was thrown out the window. When Jasmine let everyone go, Tegan made sure to get out of the classroom quick. She felt sick to her stomach. Why was her professor such a cruel and evil person and why was Tegan in love with someone like that? So much for game day spirit. Tegan rolled her eyes. Her morning had not started off the way she wanted it to. Where was the bright side of her day?

  APPARENTLY, Peyton stole Tegan’s bright side because she was still having a good day. She took a nice, long shower after getting sweaty and decided to straighten her hair. She knew she shouldn’t but she couldn’t help it. Her reasons for looking nice was because someone was going to see her in a couple of hours. She wanted to look better than decent. She already knew that Kat was going to. So yes, Peyton did straighten her hair for her game and painted her nails navy blue the way her and Kat use to do together on game days and bought some yellow and navy polka dotted pre-wrap to support her school colors. She was excited. It brought back very special memories.

  “This is bullshit Peyton! I’m doing terrible.”

  Kat ran up to her best friend who had been subbed on the bench the entire first half. It was halftime now and Kat needed to vent.

  “Kat, you’re doing fine. It’s our first game as high-schoolers. You’re just nervous. You have an entire second half left to prove just how good you are.”

  Kat listened to Peyton’s always-helpful advice and thanked whoever was mightier than her for sending her this amazing girl.

  “Peyton, what’s that on your foot?”

  Peyton stared down at her left foot.

  “Oh, this?"

  Peyton pulled the pink prewrap off of her ankle.

  “It’s just something I wear for good luck. My grandmother had breast cancer and so I always wear this pink prewrap around my ankle for good luck and in support of my grandma. She’s a survivor.”

  Peyton smiled to herself.

  “Do you have more?”

  “Yeah.”

  Peyton reached in her handball bag and handed her a huge roll of Mueller’s Pink Prewrap and handed it to Kat.

  “You can keep it, I have more at home.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kat put the prewrap and tied it around her thigh before tying it in a knot and putting in on her head.

  “You’re gonna wear it? It doesn't even match.”

  “From now on, every handball game I have, I will always wear pink prewrap in support of your grandma and other breast cancer survivors. No matter if it matches my uniform or not.”

  Peyton let out a small laugh.

  “Thanks Kat. It means a lot that you did that.”

  “Of course Peyt. We’re best friends. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Kat.”

  “LADIES, let’s go out here and give it our all!”

  The girls all cheerfully yelled, letting their voices echo throughout the locker room. Peyton sat on the bench in front of the lockers next to her teammates while her coach had a pregame pep talk. She held her thighs together to keep them from shaking. They currently had minds of their own. An eruption of goose bumps broke out, creeping up her spine, all the way to her neck. She was sweating and she hadn’t moved an inch. Her teammates shouted positive chants but it was like they were muffled to Peyton’s ears. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. This is the exact feeling people get when they are about to faint or worse. Peyton’s felt herself tipping sideways.

  Whoa there.

  She grabbed tightly on the edge of her seat. Tegan gave her a face as if she were asking, you okay? Peyton nodded and smiled thinly to assure her that everything was fine when it really wasn’t. The entire school’s cheerleading team was doing somersaults in her tummy and her palms were getting sweaty after she had continuously wiped them on her jersey. She wobbled when she stood up, and jumped after the piercing screams of her teammates came rushing back to her eardrum. The team walked inside to the courts and lined up in their positions. Peyton discreetly looked around, searching for a familiar face, her heart speeding up every time she thought she saw her but she never did.

  Don’t worry about her. Focus.

  Peyton shook her hands and wiggled her feet, jumping high into the air to get in one last stretch before the ref blew her whistle. When she did, Peyton tried to focus on the game. The game started off slow. The ball found Peyton’s hand and she aimed for her teammate. Instead she passed it to a Stanford player. What in the actual hell? Peyton never gave away balls that easily. Ever. Peyton rolled her eyes and sprinted after the player trying to win the ball back but the girl passed it already. Peyton huffed and shook it off.

  It was just one mistake. Everyone makes a mistake. Don’t beat yourself up. The game just started.

  PEYTON sat in her same spot in the locker room staring down at her boots. No one makes thirteen mistakes in a game. What was she possibly thinking? Peyton had given the game away, gotten herself a yellow card, tripped over the ball and fallen flat on her face and a lot more. It was pathetic and embarrassing. What in the hell was wrong?

  She’s getting to me. Dammit!

  Peyton clenched her fist and stared angrily at her shoestrings. This was the far worse Peyton had ever played and she was pretty sure everyone knew it. Of course coach subbed her out second half and she ended up sitting the rest of the game. She was playing like shit. They won, of course, but Peyton didn’t feel like she was a part of the win. Her teammates cheered and giggled loudly, squirting Gatorade in each other’s faces while Peyton ignored the happy atmosphere, and sat on the bench in the locker room staring down at nothing.

  “Alright girls, gather around.”

  Peyton let the images of her performance run through her head over and over again and cringed every time she thought about that fall. Dear God, was that the most embarrassing thing e
ver. The coach congratulated her team on the win. She was awful today. She was worse than awful. Peyton hunched her back over, sinking lower on the bench as the coach reviewed the highlights of the game and gave the members of her team recognition for being such a good contribution to tonight's win. Peyton winced whenever the coach said something good. He clearly had nothing good to say about Peyton and it was obvious when he skipped over her when congratulating everyone. After his post-pep talk, the locker room cleared and Peyton waited impatiently for her coach to speak. He stood in front of her, arms folded across his chest and legs planted wide as he let the silence take over for dramatic effect.

  "I expect better from you, Kennedy. Do not ever pull any shit like that again or you will be wishing you had never touched a ball."

  "Yes sir."

  "Hit the shower and come to practice next week with a better mindset. Leave whoever was wearing number seventeen today on the court just that...on the court."

  "Yes sir."

  The head coach exited and Peyton waited until she heard the door to the locker room close before picking up her water bottle and throwing it across the room to hit a locker. She turned around and pressed her hands against the locker and breathed heavily through her nose. Kat picked up the water bottle that was thrown and hesitantly walked up to Peyton.

  "You um, dropped this."

  Peyton looked back at Kat who was clutching her green Gatorade bottle like her life depended on it.

  "You can leave it on the bench."

  Kat quietly placed the bottle down on the seat and dragged her teeth across her bottom lip, choosing her next choice of words carefully.

  "You played great today."

  Peyton dropped her hands down from the locker and snatched her gym bag form the bench. She had so much anger coursing through her veins, she became lightheaded.