Letters to Nowhere(53)

This was logical, mathematical reasoning and any other day, I’d probably appreciate it, but today it felt like Bentley had been hitting me from all sides, and when it came down to it, I was just a tired, emotional, probably on the verge of starting my second period ever, teenage girl.

“I won bars at Nationals last summer.” I felt my voice rising higher than acceptable, along with my temper.

“Yes, a national competition. How many international competitions have you won?”

None.

I could practically feel my nostrils flaring. “Fine. I’ll do another one.”

Bentley stood still for several long seconds, assessing me, and then shook his head. “No. I’m not letting you on the bars again tonight. Not until you’ve gotten your emotions under control. We don’t need a careless injury.”

I ripped off my grips and stuffed them into my bag, shaking my head the whole time. “I’m going to floor.”

Bentley sighed heavily and stood in front of me, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper. “I think you’re done for tonight, Karen.”

I stared up at him, disbelief filling my expression, I was sure. “What? I’ve still got two more events and stretching.”

He nodded toward the locker room. “Go get dressed.”

Coach Cordes used to love to kick kids out of the gym, but every time he threatened me, I’d always apologize and he’d let me go back to practice. He seemed to have a soft spot for me, but Stevie or Ellen, no way. Bentley, however, had never used this technique before.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut for a second. “I’m sorry. I’m calm and ready to go, I swear.”

“You’re done, Karen,” he said firmly.

I felt like knocking something over or kicking him in the shins. Seriously? What was his problem?

“Fine, whatever.” I stormed out into the lobby and dove into the locker room before anyone could try to talk to me. I knew Bentley and Stacey wouldn’t let any of my teammates come after me. And lucky for me, I’d just recently acquired a vehicle to drive myself out of here.

The second I was out of the gym parking lot and onto the main road, my phone buzzed three times in a row. I had a feeling it was Jordan texting me, or possibly Blair. Not only did I feel really pissed off, but also totally humiliated. I had no desire to hear from anyone at the moment. I shut my phone off and decided I needed to stall a bit before going back to Bentley’s place. It was time to check out the location Tony had so graciously revealed to me.


March 3

Coach Bentley,




There’s something to be said for allowing kids to make their own mistakes, but if you don’t think I’ll ever have these new routines ready for international judges then can you just freakin’ tell me that?! I know you like me as a person, but I want to know if I’m good enough. Why can’t you just tell me instead of playing these mind games?




—Karen




P.S. if my arms fall off in my sleep tonight, I’m totally blaming you.



***

I watched dozens and dozens of cars zoom by while I sat in a car dealership parking lot off a frontage road that ran beside the highway. The curve of the road must have been what got them. It was pretty sharp, but so many cars zipped by it without so much as a small waver. After I wrote down notes and stats, I watched for all the black cars and tried to picture them tumbling and shredding to pieces, leaving their victims mangled like Humpty Dumpty. Staring at the road, it was even harder to put a real image to this accident. It became even more of a fantasy in my mind than before.

By the time I got back to Bentley’s, it was after ten and both of them were sitting in the living room. Jordon shut his laptop right away and let out a breath. Bentley wasn’t able to hide his look of relief either.

He shut his eyes for a second and opened them again, staring straight at me. “I realize now that maybe I need to be more specific about curfews and other living procedures. From now on, if you’re going somewhere after evening practice, I would like for you to let me know and I would like you to be back by ten on a weeknight. Does that seem reasonable?”

I bit down on my thumbnail, and diverted my eyes to the steps. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” Bentley said, and that was it. The drama was over before it even got started, and I had nothing to do but head upstairs and jump in the shower.

The first floor was completely dark when I got done in the bathroom and headed down to grab something to eat. I tiptoed back up the steps with my PB&J in one hand and a glass of milk in the other hand. Jordan was still awake doing homework. I stepped inside his room and sat at the end of the bed, placing my cup on his nightstand.

“What are you working on?” I asked.

He spun around in his desk chair. “I thought you were giving me the silent treatment, too.”

I remembered the buzzing of my phone earlier and how I’d shut it off. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, just your dad. But I don’t want to talk about the gym or think about it anymore tonight.”

He deliberated for a moment before finally giving me a tiny smile. “I’m working on an essay for Modern Lit class.”

“I think you do more homework than I do, and you actually go to school all day. How is that?”