Fumbled Your Heart

By: Mya Kay

Our Second Chance at Love

Chapter 1


I woke up and realized I was still in his arms. My mom would kill me, but at least it was spring break. I’d be glad when we both moved to New York for our first year of college. Life would be different once we could get out of Philly and go live our dreams. I watched Trent stretch and kissed him on his chest, causing him to smile and kiss my forehead.

“Hey, you,” he said, winking.

My heart still did a flip flop whenever he did that. Just like when we first started dating sophomore year, when my dad finally gave me the okay. I can remember him winking as he walked away from my porch. Here we were, two years later, stronger than ever and still in love. He pulled one of my curls and as I watched it pop back into place, I pinched his nose.

“I love you, too,” I said, getting up. I was glad to see I still had on my jeans. I’d taken off my sweater, but my tank top was on. We’d come close several times, but besides letting my parents down, my relationship with God was extremely important to me. And so was Trent’s.

“Jezzy, I have to hurry and get you home,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “Your dad’s gonna kill me.”

I looked at my cell and saw the five missed calls and the text messages from my parents. It was honestly a mistake. We’d spent a full day together, ice skating, shopping and we’d even gone to a midday concert in Center City. By the time we got back at eight, his mother had cooked the perfect dinner and we headed to the basement where the family room was. It was one of those rooms with a huge space, big screen TV, pool table and other things that made it great for company. I know I probably should’ve had him take me straight home, but time honestly just got away from us.

“Mom, I know, I know…we fell asleep,” I said into the phone, rolling my eyes in the air. “Yes. I know it’s two in the morning. I’m coming now.”

Hanging up, we both looked at each other and laughed. It was our last year. Our parents needed to loosen up. Sure, it was irresponsible to at least not call. And I’m sure she’d already called his parents and knew I was safe, but they had left right after dinner. Some party on the main line of Philadelphia.

“Hey, Pop,” Trent said, answering his phone. “Yes. We were both sleep. We realized we missed a lot of calls. It won’t happen again.”

I finished putting on my boots and waited for him to hang up. “They pissed?”

“He said if your dad shoots me, he doesn’t blame him.”

I walked over to him and smiled, kissing his lips. He grabbed my waist and pushed my curly hair off my face.

“I love you, Jezzy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to know, my love,” I said, finishing it with our famous line.

As we headed back upstairs, I held onto his back jean pockets. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach as he held my wrists, guiding me effortlessly through his home.

Fifteen minutes later, I was walking in the door. My parents weren’t up waiting for me, but I knew I’d hear it in the morning. I didn’t want to turn on any lights, so I tried creeping through the living room and up the stairs without making a sound. Just as I made it up the third step, I heard a noise coming from downstairs in the basement. Was that a grunt?

Growing up in South Philly, we were immune to noises – everything from gunshots to children playing until one in the morning – and even though we lived in the East Falls section of Philadelphia, if someone was in my house, there would be a huge problem. My father taught me how to hold a gun at thirteen. My mother had a fit, but he always said that he wouldn’t always be around and we both needed to know how to protect ourselves. He was already upset that I wouldn’t be able to get a gun in New York, since I wouldn’t be twenty-one until four years from now. Chuckling at the thought, I turned on the light in the basement and saw the light on in the guest bedroom. We have company, I guess. I walked slowly toward the door, but before I could get there, it opened. Uncle Paris.

“Hey, niece,” he said, sounding like he’d been drinking.

“Hey. How are you?” I said, frozen in place. I swallowed.

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