“What in God’s blue blazes,” Jolene says. “You been holding out on me, girl!”
“It’s not what you think.”
“What I think is that Royal Dolce wants to rage fuck you six ways from Sunday, and so bad he’s throwing away his future for it, too, I might add.”
“I never asked him to do that,” I mutter.
“Good grief,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You don’t know anything about boys, do you? Let’s go smoke under the bleachers. Got any money? I could use a Coke, too.”
I follow her to the concession stand, thinking of those college scouts seeing my tasteless signs. I hope they have a sense of humor. But what did Royal expect? He knows I can’t simply roll over and obey. He should have known I’d pull something. Why would he even invite me to a game, let alone a big game where he needs to impress someone?
Unless…
I want to laugh at myself just for thinking it. Of course he didn’t want me there for moral support, to be cheering for him and give him confidence when he needs it most. He’s got so much confidence he might explode at any minute, like a balloon you keep blowing up until it pops. And he’s got a whole gaggle of cheerleaders to cheer for him, not to mention the section of Dolce girls wearing his jersey number, the announcers yelling his plays over the intercom like he’s a fucking rock star, and a whole stadium who shriek like fangirls at a Just 5 Guys concert when he jogs back onto the field.
Fuck. I rub the bridge of my nose, feeling like the royal asshole that I am. That’s a shit-ton of pressure for anyone, and Royal’s not exactly the calm and collected type. He’s volatile under the best circumstances. Maybe he really did want me here for support. For whatever reason, we have a crazy, intense, soul deep connection with each other, one he’s been perfectly clear he feels, too. In fact, he’s been far more honest about it than I have, laying it all out there for me.
When he needs someone, someone who understands him on a level that has nothing to do with the logical, he reaches for me. And I can’t help but respond, even if it destroys me a little each time. Even if our connection manifests in us trying to murder each other, I get him. So maybe tonight, when he was too scared or overwhelmed or stressed, or just simply couldn’t articulate what he really needed, he hoped I’d come through for him. And because more often than not, he’s showing his ugliest side when he calls to me, I’ve built up my own defenses against him, and instead of showing up for him, I humiliated him.
And so goes our vicious cycle. His darkness calls to me, but it won’t accept me when I arrive, won’t let me in. My darkness answers, but it comes with barbs, ready to defend itself. Instead of letting our darkness merge, we battle each other, hurting each other in ways both subtle and blunt, and we push each other further away. In his darkest moments, he takes out his pain and rage on me, and in return, I become more hardened and more lost to him each time.
That’s why we’re impossible. Not because I’m poor and he’s rich, or even because he thinks I’m trash. We can never be because we understand each other too well, and both of us are too scared to get closer, to let someone in to that extent, and most of all, to lose control.
After all, isn’t that why I push his buttons, even knowing how dangerous he is? Because I want to see him snap, to lose that iron hold he has on himself. I want to break down that dam inside him, even though a part of me knows that when his darkness floods out, it will swallow me whole and drown me completely. Maybe, most of all, I want to believe it’ll be worth it.
*
Charades
The scouts are here tonight
They say
So make sure you’re on your best
Game
The scouts are here tonight
I hear
They’re going to be looking for the next
Big Star.
The scouts are here tonight
You say
Let’s show them what it means to carry
The Dolce name.
I’ll show them what it means
I’ll play your games
I’ll be their star
Pretend you’ll let me leave
With your secrets clutched between my fingers
To play for them one day
But we all know the truth, Dad
If you carry the Dolce name
You won’t go far.