Chapter Thirteen: Seeing More

32.8K 1.1K 89
                                    

Chapter Thirteen

Seeing More

I know I should go over and comfort Colton, but my legs won’t seem to work. My mind, like a slipped disk, keeps going over the fact that Colton –popular, jock-star, all-around-nice-guy –has a jerk of a father. It just doesn’t add up. The typical cliché is that the guy with Daddy issues pushes people into lockers and smokes pot during class. He doesn’t have straight-As or join sports or have a good reputation.

There goes that theory down the drain.

I sigh and try to think of something to say that will comfort Colton. 

But what do you say when someone is embarrassed of their own father?

Thoughts of Colton’s dad, undoubtedly, lead to thoughts of Colton. His answer to his dad’s question of whether or not he wanted to join wrestling makes my lips twitch. I can’t believe he compared himself to twigs. But if his dad was so gung-ho about wrestling, I wonder how excited he was when his son decided to do baseball and football? Or was it Colton’s idea at all?

I voice this question aloud. Colton lowers his hands and looks at me for a minute before quirking a half-smile. “No, it wasn’t my idea to join football or baseball. Dad all the way.”

“But do you like it?” I press. Why is it so important to me that Colton is happy?

He shrugs and spreads out on the bed, his arms behind his head and his ankles crossed. “I don’t dislike it. It’s sorta fun. Plus it looks good on a college application. And, I mean, I’m good at it, so why stop?”

I tuck my feet under me. The desk chair spins slightly from side to side. I can’t help feeling like I’m the psychologist and Colton is the patient.

“Just because you’re good at something, doesn’t mean you need to do it.”

He sighs. “I know. But it gets Dad off my back about sports.” My expression must be one of skepticism because he looks at it and laughs. “Well, most of the time, anyway.”

“What do you want to do?” I ask.

“Anything with you by my side.” Colton smirks at me.

A laugh escapes me. “Be serious.” I try to stifle my grin.

The cocky glint has reappeared in Colton’s bright green eyes. “I dunno.” He shrugs. “I’ve thought about becoming a teacher. I like explaining things to people. But I’ll probably just decide in college.”

His answer should surprise me, but, then again, he is one of the most patient people I know. He’s been waiting for me for two years, for goodness’ sake.

I smile at the beautiful boy with the dark hair and brilliant eyes. “You’d be a great teacher.”

I swear that glint in his eyes gets brighter.

Forty-Seven Uses for a Paperclip (Completed)Where stories live. Discover now