Chapter 19

“Good evening, ladies. Nice surprise seeing you here.”

I twirled about to face our guest, presenting Gavin with my best smile. “Hey, you! What are you doing here tonight?” My heart skipped a beat, not expecting to hear his inviting voice. Dabbing a napkin at my nose, I prayed the redness on my face had disappeared.

“Just stoppin’ by to see some of the guys play ball,” he answered. “Didn’t expect to run into you at this event. When did you become a sports fan?” He flashed a flirtatious grin, nudging me in the arm to make physical contact.

I playfully nudged back, acknowledging his good sense of humor. “What? You mean I can’t enjoy watching the guys, too?”

Gavin turned several shades of pink, nodding his defeat. “Good one. Ya got me there.” Noticing Val, he cleared his throat and added, “Ms. Hardwood.”

“Gavin. Nice seeing you, Sir,” she returned his greeting. “What have you been up to since school’s been out? Any big plans for the summer?”

“Not really. Just hangin’ out with some friends, playin’ it by ear.” Scanning the field, Gavin waved at a couple of classmates near the dugout. “A few of my buddies are playing in the game tonight. Figured I’d come out and show some love.”

“That’s mighty nice of you,” Val bolstered his ego.

Out of nowhere, a tall, slender, blonde, eighth-grade girl walked up beside Gavin, looping her arm around his elbow, and lacing her fingers with his. Resting her other hand on his bicep, she pressed her body against his arm, looking like a model straight off the pages of a trendy teen magazine, peach-perfect complexion and dazzling blue eyes. “Oh, Gavvie, you’re here! I was just beginning to wonder if you were going to make it.” She exaggerated her emotions while a waft of Exclamation perfume accosted our senses. “They’re already in the third inning. I thought you were going to miss the whole thing.”

I raised my eyebrows and smothered a smirk, placing a hand across my mouth to keep it shut. There are still at least six innings left in the game. I think he arrived in plenty of time. I exhaled slowly. Such a drama queen!

Jill batted her long lashes and turned her attention to me, barely tolerating my presence. “Oh, hi, Hope! I didn’t see you there.” She fabricated a smile.

Sure you didn’t. I kept silent. You’ve only spent the entire school year snubbing me, whispering behind my back, and pretending I don’t exist. You must really hate that Gavin and I are friends.

I squared my shoulders and forced myself to remain polite. “Hi, Jill. I like your outfit. You look very pretty this evening.” Eyeing her skintight designer jean shorts and sheer fuchsia blouse, I performed the expected niceties with all the grace I could muster. The kindness in my voice surprised even me.

“Oh, this ol’ thing?” She giggled. “Just a little something I had in my closet. I suppose it’ll work for tonight.” She flung her long locks over her right shoulder then ran her finger the length of Gavin’s left arm. “We should really be going now, Gav. We don’t want to keep our peeps waiting.”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes, underwhelmed by her fakeness. I will never understand why guys fall for this sort of thing, I mused. She’s been here a whole two seconds, and her syrupy sentiments are already enough to make my teeth rot.

Gavin offered an apology with his puppy dog eyes, briefly studying my face. “I’ll catch up with you later?”

I glanced down at Jill’s hand on Gavin’s arm and watched as he gently stroked her fingers. “Guess so.” There’s no chance of having a bonafide conversation with Jill around, anyway, I thought.

Headed down the sloping embankment, Gavin politely called over his shoulder, “Good night, ladies. Enjoy the rest of the game.”

“Night,” I answered, trying to ignore the knot forming in my stomach.

Val waited for Gavin to be out of earshot then offered her condolences. “I bet that was hard to do.”

Lost in the previous moment, I brought myself back to the present. “Huh? What’s that?”

“Watching him walk away like that with another girl.”

“Who, Gavin? Oh, no. We’re just friends,” I insisted, sitting back down on the bench. “Just good friends.”

Val sat down beside me, unconvinced. “I don’t think he knows that,” she replied.

“And why would you say that?” I watched as a young boy near home plate drug an abandoned bat through red clay and back to the dugout. Jill stood nearby, hanging all over Gavin, emphasizing every movement. “I’m not his type.”

“And what type would that be?” I could hear the smile in Val’s voice, even though I didn’t turn to look at her.

“I don’t know. Prim and proper? Stylish? Perfect hair? One that hangs out with the popular crowd?” I shrugged. “I’m just the girl next door. Nothing special to see here.”

Val chuckled, acknowledging my struggle, yet seeming to know something I didn’t. “I have a feeling Gavin would disagree. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say he thinks you’re special–actually, I believe he thinks you’re very special.”

I let out a long sigh, my gaze lingering on the group socializing with Gavin and Jill. “Coulda fooled me.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

As I stood to leave the ballfield, Val reached out her hand and slipped a piece of paper into my palm, closing my fingers around it. “I know I may not be your homeroom teacher any more, but if you ever need a listening ear, I’ve got two of them.” She tapped the edge of her ear for emphasis. Motioning to my hand, she added, “Use that number if you ever need to get ahold of me. I’m pretty good at answering my phone, and I always return my messages.”

I nodded my understanding. “Thank you. You’re a great listener. I appreciate you allowing me time to vent this evening.”

Val smiled. “You’re welcome. Right time. Right place. Glad I could be here. I know how overwhelming it can get, but I also know talking can be very therapeutic.” Her eyes held a tenderness I hadn’t seen elsewhere.

“I admit, getting it all out in the open relieved a very real weight tonight.” As my lungs deflated, I observed a genuine fatigue wash over my body. A kind of sadness followed. “Dealing with all this emotional stuff feels very heavy. I’m truly tired.”

“Understandable.” She welcomed my candor. “Our bodies weren’t built to live in long-term fight or flight mode. Sadly, you’ve been inundated with insane amounts of stress the past several months. I’m sure your system is exhausted.”

“Well, I’m willing to allow someone else to have a turn now,” I laughed, releasing some of my anxiety. “I’ve had enough of whatever this is to last a lifetime. I’m more than happy to share.”

“I’m sure you are.” As she looked me in the eye, an impenetrable mystique suddenly shrouded her expression, her words solemn and sincere. “Hope, I need you to promise me something.”

The seriousness in her voice made me leery. “OK…? What is it?”

Taking a moment, she studied my face, concern hedging her words. “Please promise me that you’ll never do anything stupid.” She held my gaze, waiting for me to mentally process her plea.

I swatted at a fly near my right ear and nervously laughed. “What do you mean by ‘something stupid’?” I scrunched my nose, a bit perplexed by her request. “I might get stressed at times and fed up with my situation, but I’m not suicidal,” I assured her.

“That’s good to know,” she smiled back, “but I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about then.” She watched a moment as I pondered the futuristic timeframe. “When life becomes overwhelming and more than you can handle—you know, that place where you just want to throw in the towel? Don’t. Make a decision right now to ask for help. Don’t act on impulse or allow your feelings to rule the moment. Reach out. Speak up. Let somebody know you’re at your wits end—no matter when that moment arrives. OK? Just don’t do anything stupid.”

I nodded, weighing the reality.

“You have my number now. Use it,” she instructed. “Any time. Day or night. And, if not me, find somebody else you trust; but, whatever you do, don’t make a decision in that moment that you can’t take back.”

I nodded again, overcome by her concern. “I promise, but what makes you think I might—do something stupid, that is?” I glanced around, suddenly realizing the vulnerable topic on display.

Val shrugged. “Guess I know life, and I also know the devil is real. Trials and heartaches are a big part of his arsenal. He will attempt to destroy anyone and everyone who gets in his way or puts their faith in God, and he will spare no expense.” Softening her voice, her posture followed.

“Hope, everyone has a breaking point; so, I guess what I’m saying is, when you find yourself at yours, don’t do anything you’ll regret. Have a backup plan. Don’t try to get through it alone. Surround yourself with positive people; and, remember, you’re more capable than you think. But, by that same token, know your limits, and be strong enough to lean on someone else if you need to. That’s why God gave us friends.” She allowed me a moment to digest her words. “I’d be happy to be that person for you, if you need me to be, but no matter what you do, make sure you have somebody, OK?”

I nodded again.

Between deep fears and anxious thoughts cloaked in thick darkness, I had contemplated life and death more than once. But how did she know that? I wondered. I don’t want to die. I just don’t have the strength to keep on living like this. There’s a difference in that, right? I waited for the catch; but, strangely, there didn’t seem to be one. “You’d do that for me?” I finally spoke.

She solidified her commitment by saying, “I would, and I will.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I whispered the sincerest words I could find. “Thank you.”