The last Friday of the last summer break of my undergraduate degree and where was I? Backpacking through Europe? Hanging out with friends? Earning a little extra cash? No. I was running wind sprints in an almost empty recreation center. And why? Because my dad is an asshole, and I'm an idiot.
"Gabe! You should come visit this summer! We'll finally get to spend some time together." I should have known better. From the day he bailed on Mom when I was twelve, it's always been 'next summer,' and 'when things slow down at work,' and 'sorry, champ, I'll make it next time.' I thought that maybe, finally, now that the shine had worn off his new trophy wife and his second family, maybe he could actually make some time for me. That maybe, maybe, he really did want to make up for lost time.
Nope!
We wasted the first couple of weeks "catching up." This meant him awkwardly guessing which milestones I'd hit in my life and which I hadn't, then trying to give me "manly" advice. This from a "man" that had abandoned his wife and two kids and tried to screw us out of child support and alimony after Mom caught him fucking his secretary.
After our perfunctory "bonding" sessions, he tried to pawn me off on his vapid new wife and their spoiled kids while avoiding all of us at work; some things never change, I guess. But then came the indignity that finally drove me to tell him to go fuck himself and never call me again: the entire visit had been a pretense. He and Barbie were taking off to Europe for a month, and they wanted me to babysit my half-siblings. Not in Europe, which might have been acceptable. At their home, in a town I'd never visited, for no pay other than room and board. Mind you, I had spent all of maybe six hours around these kids before that summer. Yeah, no.
Hence my current situation: spending the summer at my mom's house, by myself. Mom and sis were off scoping out colleges for the following year. My high school friends all had their own things going on. My college friends had meticulously planned out their summers and were having all sorts of exciting adventures far, far away.
And me? I was trying to burn off anger at my useless sperm donor and at my own naive optimism through energetic cardio. Hoo-fucking-ray.
But sometimes things have a way of working themselves out.
My water bottle needed a refill, so I headed to the hall and the water fountain. Drenched with sweat, panting, and muttering to myself, I almost knocked down a young woman coming into the empty basketball court. Even in my pissed off state, I still managed to mutter, "Sorry."
"Just watch--" She peered at me, blonde ponytail bobbing behind as she did a double take. "Gabe?"
The girl was pretty, that was for sure. Deep brown eyes, button nose, and a girl next door face that looked so oddly familiar that I was sure I knew her. Then it hit me. "Jessica?" She nodded happily. "Jess!" I swept her up in my arms for a big hug without thinking, then stepped back and apologized. "God, I'm sorry. I'm so sweaty and--" She threw herself at me, enthusiastically returning the hug.
The last time I'd seen her, she'd been a scrawny, gawky fifteen year old with braces and a manner that had only started to turn away from the morose. I felt suddenly uncomfortable at the soft flesh pressing against me, making my own flesh not nearly as soft. Pulling away once more, I got a clear look at her for the first time, and while I might not have liked the way my little head reacted, I couldn't fault its logic.
Jessica's gawkiness had turned into athleticism. Her body had become lean and toned, muscular and soft in exactly the right measure. Hips, ass, and tits had grown to the perfect proportions. Jess's transformation since I'd trained her while a student coach three years previous had made her into the very definition of youthful femininity. I still saw the echo of the Jess I'd known when I was a senior leaving for college, though. The broad grin on her face was one I hadn't seen often back then.
"My god, Jess! It's been, what, three years?"
She nodded happily. "Yeah! Man, you're looking great! Still playing?"
I shook my head. "Not really. Been focusing on pre-med; not nearly enough time for anything more than a pickup game now and then. You?"
"Yeah! Got a scholarship to State!"
"That's great! I guess I'll be seeing you around campus."
Another nod, then sudden puzzlement. "Wait, I thought you were going to your dad's house this summer. I, uh, I mean, your sister told me you were- I wasn't..."
There was the Jess I remembered, the sweet, easily flustered girl with the crush. "I was. It..." I sighed and shook my head, an exasperated expression on my face. "It was a shitshow. So I'm spending the last few weeks here. Last weekend, now, I guess."
Jessica touched my shoulder and looked up into my eyes. She didn't need to look up nearly as much as she did before; she'd gotten tall, almost as tall as me. "I'm sorry. I had hoped maybe he'd changed."
"How about... did you ever hear from your dad?"
The look on her face told me everything, including the fact that I probably shouldn't have asked. "Nah. Trey is, was, and continues to be a deadbeat douche."
Jess and I had bonded over her father's abandonment of her family. Basketball drew us into each other's orbits, but my experience helped me help her through one of the most difficult experiences a kid can go through: finding out that Dad never loved you as much as he said. I spent a sizable chunk of my senior year over at her house. I worked with her mom, Sara, to get Jess through that trauma, both by sharing my experience and trying to present a model of a good man to her, albeit one scarcely older.
I chucked her chin, a gesture I'd often made back then, and she giggled, then turned a touch melancholy. "Thanks, Gabe. I never really got to... I know I was kind of a brat at the end there. I'm sorry."
"You were going through a lot. It's okay."
"It's not." Another beaming smile. "But of course you'd say that. That's who you are."
An uncomfortable silence fell over us for a moment, then she rallied. "So, it's been three years. Bet I can kick your ass now."
"I bet you can, too, Ms. College Athlete! You're not gonna snooker me."
"Come on! One friendly game. I'll bet you an ice cream."
