Page 145 of Collided

Turning around he picks up a blue ball and hands it to me. I stare at it, clueless about which finger will go in which hole—okay that sounds dirty but it’s not. Books might’ve messed me up.

I put the wrong fingers in the holes and Heath shakes his head.

Without hesitating, he guides my fingers in the right holes but doesn’t let go of the ball as it's heavy.

Really. How do people make it roll like it doesn’t weigh a thousand tonnes?

“If you let go it’ll fall on my feet,” I warn him.

“You’ll get used to it.” With that, he lets go.

Surprisingly, my fingers manage to hold it. I shoot him a proud smile. “You were right.”

“I always am.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Now concentrate.” Placing a hand on my back he leads me to the lane and stands close to me. "Bend down and swing your arm back and forth. Once the ball comes forward, release it onto the lane with full force. Got it?" he asks with his lips dangerously close to my cheek. I nod. Although, I won’t lie. I didn’t listen to a single word of what he said as his hot breath was fanning over the side of my bare neck.

“I’m right here with you. Don’t think about winning or losing. Just focus on getting it fucking right.” He backs away from my face.

I’m able to take a breath that isn’t filled with the intoxicating cologne he wears all the time.

I let out a deep breath and focus on the pins and the long lane.

Focus.

I can do this.

Following his instructions, I did as he told me. The ball travels down the lane and I get quite excited, but it only hits one of the pins and disappears.

“I don't think I can do this.”

“We’ve just fucking started. This is your first time.”

Heath runs a hand through his dark brown strands that look effortlessly styled. Even messy they’re pointing in the right direction and only add to his appeal.

Taking my hand, he leads me to the ball rack where the ball I rolled appears.

“Try every one of them and tell me which one feels the lightest,” he commands.

I’m busy trying out the balls as he watches me intently. I make eye contact with him and the moment our eyes lock I quickly look away.

Heath has always watched me with such a deep look in his blue eyes. It almost feels like being submerged in the bluest waves of the water and suddenly drowning doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

One by one, I try different balls and weigh them until I find one that feels easier to hold.

Before I can tell him he’s by my side and his eyes are glued to me.

My heart starts racing.

I press the ball to my ribcage and wrap my arms around myself.

“You look tired.” He runs his gaze all over my face.

My lips part in surprise. I’ve been feeling weak lately. First I thought it was because I’ve been studying hard and writingassignments and completing homework, while also doing house chores, but I think it’s more than that. I’m getting weak mentally. At school, I’m overthinking about what will happen when I get home and once I’m home I face the man who brings me pain and misery. I tried talking to Mom and that turned out so well—she told me to move out if I had a problem.

All this time I’ve been keeping all my secrets, fears, and sadness inside of me. Maybe now it’s showing on my face and body. I can’t hide anymore.

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