Chapter 32

446 45 136
                                    

I guess you could call it luck Ben and I had nearly finished our American Lit. project before the detrimental choir concert. Cambrie had even managed to draw a few pictures rendering it near completion. The only thing remaining was for Ben and me to scour through it once more and comb out any kinks it may have.

It started to become clear, though, this may never happen. We still had yet to smooth out our own kinks. Ben had taken to ignoring me every time our paths crossed. When we intersected in the hall, he turned his head and walked past me, and when we encountered each other on the track field, he made no attempt to make any sort of contact. Even in our American Lit. class Ben somehow disregarded my presence; it was like I wasn't there. I was the ghost I had always fathomed myself, except now I felt alive. 

Yet, I couldn't fault Ben for his actions.

While I did possess the courage to speak with him, I was worried if I said one thing, I would say everything. My thoughts still needed some serious organization, because I knew I would only get one chance at making it right.

Nearly a week pressed on, and I hadn't said a single word to Ben.

Morgan seemed to have finally gotten the not-so-subtle hint. He had left me alone since the night of the concert. Upon reflection, maybe I should have been more clear with Morgan, yet I still blamed him for having such narrow vision. 

And while it was easy to get caught up in what could have been, I only had the power to change what lay ahead. 

Still, I wanted to thrash Morgan. Or really, I wanted to thrash anything.

My feelings, though, were clearer than ever. Where confusion once clouded my feelings for Ben, the night of the concert had brought with it an absolving sky. Nothing in me felt torn. I knew how I felt. I just needed to work out how to express those feelings. Ben deserved the truth.

My father had been quiet in the week following the concert. He kept the conversation even lighter than normal, going so far as to omit speaking on choir at all. Every so often, I would catch him studying me, as if trying to find what lay beneath the surface, but he kept his thoughts to himself. I was thankful for this. I had needed the week to exist without the knowledge I was trying to be decrypted. While the foundation of my feelings was absolute, my thoughts shifted and revolved as if on a never-ending conveyor belt.

The one silver lining emerging out of everything had been the surfacing of my confidence. Ever since the concert, I knew how to access it , and this gave me the strength to embody myself each day. I continued running hard at track, maintained my classwork, and took on each day with both feet on the ground. 

It was with this courage I managed to slip a note onto the dining table before I left that morning, asking my father if he would come to my track meet .I had finally utilized Ben's advice and would soon see how it panned out.

The sun was blazing in the sky. The air was warm and laced with the scent of blooming flowers from the campus gardens. White and yellow daffodils were scattered around as far as the eye could see.

We had just finished warming up and the first running event, a relay, was in progress. I snuck off towards the sidelines, the sun a warm blanket over my skin, and chanced a glance at the bleachers, hoping to see my father somewhere mixed in. I came up short, but, remaining positive, turned back towards the track and focused on the event. Julia stood to my right, and chatted with me occasionally, a nice distraction from intrusive thought of my father.

Ben had entered onto the track, signaling his event was about to begin. I sucked in a breath and watched him eagerly. His speed and pacing had both improved, once again, as if I had expected anything less. He looked well suited on the track, as though it had become a part of him now. Pride swelled inside my chest as I kept my eyes glued to his form. No one, except for Rodriguez, had believed in him enough to run in an event. He had proven me wrong, along with everybody else, and I hoped Rodriguez had snidely made an "I told you so" comment to Nelson.

Starting PositionDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora