It's a Match! (20 page)

“Excellent. Then let’s go, pretty lady.”

Sutton nervously took her sweatshirt and pants off. “Let’s.”

COLE AWOKE TO
the sound of Hunter’s classical music. He often listened to it while studying. It didn’t bother Cole. It was actually sort of soothing, especially in his drugged-up state.

“Good morning,” Hunter said, over his shoulder. “Sorry, is the music too loud?”

“No, not at all. Where did Claire go?”

“She went back to her dorm after you fell asleep yesterday. She wanted to make sure you got rest, but she said she’d be back today. You certainly have one dedicated girlfriend.”

“I do. It’s nice,” Cole replied, smiling.
 

“She’s easy on the eyes as well,” Hunter replied.
 

“You’ve got
that
right.”

Hunter turned back to his laptop and Cole stared at the ceiling. His mind was racing. What was he going to do with himself without football? Sure, he would have practice, but again he would be planted on the bench, wishing he could jump onto that field once more. Football made him feel alive. It made him think more clearly. Now his mind was all muddled, and he felt lost.

He wished his somewhat former best friend were there. Surely she’d be able to distract him and make him laugh.

Claire was funny enough. He and Claire had a tradition of going to the movies and making fun of the audience the whole time. For some reason, they found it endlessly entertaining. There was the time during a particularly dramatic scene when a girl from the audience headed to the bathroom. All of a sudden, they heard a man’s loud voice filling the theater: “It’s okay. It’s just popcorn.” Apparently the girl had knocked his bag of popcorn over and was apologizing profusely. But the man was so sweet about it. Cole and Claire couldn’t stop laughing. One would stop, then the other would stifle a laugh and they would start cracking up once more.

Those were precious moments and he did cherish them, but his time with Sutton was unlike anything else.
 

Cole heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”

In walked Claire, looking as beautiful as ever. She had her hair pulled into a loose braid, with a pink bow holding it together. She was looking truly angelic in a white dress, tightly fitted in all the right places. “How are you feeling today?”

“Still groggy, but the pain level is more manageable than yesterday.”

“Oh, good. I’ve got class but I just wanted to stop by and check in.” Claire walked over to Cole’s bed and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I’ll come by after.”

“Sounds good.”

“And don’t you dare think of getting out of that bed.”

“But what if I have to go to the bathroom?”

“I’ll get you some diapers,” Hunter chimed in, laughing heartily.

“Make sure you get those extra breathable ones,” Cole replied, slurring a bit.

“Okay, guys … have fun. Are you going to be around, Hunter?”

“I’m always around. Don’t you worry,” Hunter replied, returning to his typing.
 

“I can’t help but worry,” Claire replied, sounding concerned. “I will try my best though,” she added.
 

“That’s all we can ask,” Cole responded, his head hitting the pillow once more, as his eyelids began to close.

“I’ll see you soon,” Claire said softly, then exited the room after flashing one last sympathetic smile.
 

After the door closed, Hunter turned around to look at a nearly-sleeping Cole. “You’ve got a keeper there, you know that?”

“I do.”

“Lucky bastard.”

SUTTON FORCED HERSELF
out of bed after Ava left for Algebra. Sutton didn’t have classes on Tuesdays, so she figured she could finally catch up on some homework. Jesse had back-to-back classes all day, so she wouldn’t be distracted, as she had seemed to be a lot lately.

Sutton had always been an honor roll student and she didn’t want to let it slip now, especially since she planned on applying to grad school after she graduated. She needed to maintain her stellar grade point average if she wanted to have a chance. She wanted to get her Masters of Fine Arts in creative writing at her dream school, UC Berkeley, but they only took an average of seven students a year for the program.
 

No pressure.

Sutton took a seat at her desk and opened her laptop. She had an essay for her Intro to Screen Writing class and a short story to write for her Creative Writing class. Not only was she distracted by her personal life, but she wanted nothing more than to work on her book. She figured she could work on it for an hour, seeing as she had a pivotal scene to finish writing.
 

Sutton had realized the protagonist might have been coming off a bit unlikeable. She needed a scene to explain why she was the way she was. She had left off with the main character in the park where she and her best friend often met when important things were happening in their lives.
 

Sutton began to type.
 

“A cold breeze sweeps across the grass and I pull my sleeves down to cover my quickly numbing hands. I swing slowly as I look around at our sanctuary, our special place. What would I do without him? I don’t even want to think about it. He seems to be the only person who truly ‘gets’ me, whatever that means. I think he sees a side of me that no one else can see, as if he has some special decoder glasses he got in a cereal box, which enable him to cut through the bullshit that is me. I mean, I guess it’s not entirely bullshit. It’s seemingly uncontrollable. It’s my protection from the scary world around me. If people misunderstand me, maybe I’ll know a different kind of peace. A lonely peace, but a peace that makes me a stronger and more interesting person. Although, what’s the use of being interesting and strong when you stand alone?”
     

Sutton’s decision to write in a first-person, present-tense narrative was not an intentional one. It was just the way the story made sense to her. She identified with the main character a lot. Obviously, it was easiest for Sutton to write what she knew. And she knew of her insecurities more than anything. Sure, Cole understood her better than most, but there were sides to her that she kept hidden from all those around her, parts of herself she was ashamed to admit, even to herself.
 

“I look up at the blank sky, watching the gray clouds drift by slowly. I wonder what it would be like to float along with them, to gaze upon the world below, to be an impartial viewer. None of us can truly be impartial viewers, no matter how hard we try. We’re all wrapped up in judgement, whether or not we intend to be. We see the world through the lenses we’ve had made specially, just for us. Our own personal, colored contact lenses of observation, enabling endless hours of contemplative wonder over how another human being exists, how their hard drive must be configured. And we’ll never know. We’ll never know the contents of another’s soul. I guess the best we can do is try to understand the contents of our own. I don’t think I do. I don’t think I understand my contents. I want to put them in a cardboard box and label them ‘Return to Sender’, in hopes that they will send me some sort of manual. And hopefully not a manual similar to what you’d receive with furniture from Ikea. I need one that resembles an instruction manual for an ‘Age two-and-up’ board game. I want large shapes with corresponding colors. Large shapes that fit into their clearly labeled counterparts. Where do I find it? Where do I find the manual?”
 

Sutton tapped her nails on the desk as she drew a blank. She had many questions she didn’t yet know the answers to, but she longed to. She figured she would find the answers sooner or later. In writing about the main character’s struggles, she was sure to understand her own eventually. At least she certainly hoped she would….

Sutton decided to begin her short story and work on the book later. She had become blocked again and thought that working on writing something else might get the creative juices flowing once more. She wasn’t really sure what to write that story about either. The only guideline she had was that it was supposed to be a story about fear. She had plenty of that. It only needed to be 10,000 words, so it probably wouldn’t take her more than a few days, if she could remain focused. Luckily she had a week to finish it.
 

Sutton grabbed her phone and began a text.

I just wanted to see how you’re doing. Are you feeling better? I’ve been thinking a lot about our friendship. And I miss it.

Sutton shook her head and deleted the text without sending it. Things weren’t the same between her and Cole anymore. She needed to accept that and move on. People grew apart. Things changed. Life went on … even without your best friend.
 

Sutton placed the phone on her bed and closed her laptop. She was in no mood to be writing. She needed a break. Perhaps she would take a walk around campus to clear her head.
 

Sutton stood up and threw on some acceptable outside-world clothes. She grabbed her purse and headed out. Time to find some inspiration.

COLE AWOKE TO
Claire sitting on the edge of the bed holding his hand. All he had been doing the last couple of days was sleeping. He had come in and out of his daze to see that Claire had brought him his homework and some of his favorite snacks. He knew he was incredibly lucky, but why did it feel like something was missing?

“Hey, sleepy head. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Thank you.”

“Good. I’ve been worried,” Claire replied. And it was clear she was, with the giant bags forming under her eyes.
 

“No need.”

“Can’t help it.”

And it appeared Claire
couldn’t
help it. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
 

“What day is it?”

“Aw, honey … it’s Thursday. I thought maybe we could go walk around a bit today … maybe get you used to those crutches.”

It was probably a good idea. Cole hadn’t left the dorm since he’d been released from the hospital. He was beginning to develop a serious cabin fever situation. “Okay, I think I can manage that.”

Claire looked relieved. “I don’t have class for another couple of hours, so we have some time. Maybe we can go to the dining hall? Get you some food?”

Food didn’t sound particularly appetizing to Cole, but Claire was being so sweet. He didn’t want to disappoint her. She appeared to love playing nurse, and she was good at it. So, he let her help him sit up and hand him his crutches.
 

Cole struggled, but finally got them situated below his arms. His knee ached, but he wanted to appear strong, so he ignored the throbbing pain. Claire helped him out of the room and down to the quad. He was glad to be outside. He’d almost forgotten what sunshine was like. It was brighter than he remembered.
 

As they hobbled to the dining hall, Claire brought them to a stop. “Do you need to rest?”

Cole was beginning to feel mildly smothered. He loved having Claire around. He loved that she was being so supportive, but something about it felt off to him.