Most Likely (Most Likely #1) - Sarah Watson Page 0,38
turned and the action on the court shifted into silence. CJ could feel everyone staring. “Dakota…”
Wyatt caught CJ’s eye. She gave him a look as if to say that everything was under control. Even though she was fairly certain that it wasn’t. CJ leaned over to Dakota. She touched her arm lightly and whispered, “Why don’t we go outside? We can talk while we take a walk.”
The words that were supposed to keep Dakota from going over the ledge pushed her straight off it. “Don’t you get it? I can’t take a walk! Just leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!”
The pain in Dakota’s voice was almost primal. It stunned CJ into silence. She sat there frozen while Dakota unlocked the wheels of her chair and fled for the exit. It was only when Dakota exploded out of the gym doors that CJ registered what was happening. Dakota was racing into the parking lot.
Wyatt was already on the move.
“Dakota!” he shouted as he went after her. “Dakota!”
CJ could feel all the boys staring at her. This was her fault. This was her fault and she needed to fix it. “Carter,” she said to the oldest boy on the court. “Have everyone practice their serves. I’ll be…” She didn’t even finish the sentence.
Outside, CJ saw that Dakota still had a lead on Wyatt. There were so many cars in the parking lot. So many drivers not paying attention. A minivan came around the corner. CJ saw it before Dakota did. The van slammed on the brakes and honked the horn. The driver opened his mouth to yell. As soon as he saw that it was a child in a wheelchair, he waved instead. “Sorry.”
The near collision must have jarred Dakota, because she stopped. Wyatt caught up to her and Dakota spun around. She was breathing hard, and CJ got close enough that she could see tears in her eyes. “I… I… I’m sorry,” Dakota said.
CJ decided to hang back and let Wyatt talk to her. She was so scared of saying the wrong thing again.
Wyatt looked at Dakota with deep sympathy. “What are you sorry for?”
“For screaming like that.”
“It sounds to me like you needed it.”
She nodded.
“You want to scream some more?”
She shook her head. “Everyone will stare.”
“Who gives a shit?”
She looked at him, confused but intrigued that he’d just sworn in front of her.
“Yeah. I said ‘shit.’ You are having a shitty day and you are allowed to scream about it. I think you need to scream about it. So scream.”
CJ shifted her weight. She felt so useless.
“Try it,” he said. “Yell whatever you want. Yell whatever is inside of you that needs to come out.”
Dakota was still trying to catch her breath. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“What wasn’t? But tell me louder.”
“I was supposed to have surgery and everything was going to be fine. My mom said I’d be fine. She promised. But I’m not fine and my friend is scared of me and it’s not fair. IT’S NOT FAIR!”
“No,” Wyatt said. “It’s not. LOUDER.”
“IT’S NOT FAIR! IT’S NOT FAIR!”
There were at least a half dozen people walking through the parking lot. Not one of them said anything. A couple of them even looked over and smiled politely. The wheelchairs made everyone so weird and awkward. CJ looked down at her feet. She was weird and awkward too.
Now that the floodgates were open, Dakota screamed. Wyatt raised his voice and screamed with her. It gave Dakota the permission she needed to be even louder. She screamed her truth with everything she had. She screamed until tears streamed down her face. She screamed until the shouting was mingled with laughter. Wyatt pumped his fists into the air and howled like a wolf. Dakota screamed until there were no words left, and then she howled like a wolf too. Their voices blended and carried, and the sound ebbed and flowed between anger and joy, sadness and relief.
It was one of the most beautiful things CJ had ever seen in her life. And the most useless she’d ever felt.
CJ didn’t talk to Wyatt about what happened that afternoon. She wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. She helped him pick up cones, and she put the tennis rackets back in the office. Then she said good night. Wyatt tried to say something to her, but she told him she had to be somewhere. She raced to her car, and when she got there, she gripped the steering wheel tightly. She’d failed again. This