The Collide

“Okay” was all he finally said, looking Jasper square in the eye. “But you miss a game or a practice from here on out, you screw up at all, you’re gone. You’re lucky as hell Samuels is out with a concussion. I got no choice but to take you on, despite the fact that you sound like you could be delusional. Consider yourself already out of strikes.”

Strikes. There it was finally. Like father, like son. The judge had said basically the same thing when he’d sentenced Jasper’s dad to fifteen years for aggravated assault. “I’m sorry, Mr. Salt, but you are out of strikes.”

And fair enough. Jasper’s dad had already been arrested more times than Jasper could count. And what he’d done that night was so much worse than anything that had come before. It wasn’t just evil. It was animal.

The guy in front of them was driving like a dumb-ass, weaving all over the place, slowing way down, then jerking to a stop. They could see that he was on his cell phone. Stupid, no doubt. But it wasn’t until Jasper’s dad had to jerk so hard to stop that he dropped his cigarette in his lap that he became a train cut loose on the tracks.

“No, Dad!” Jasper had called after him.

But he was already out of the car.

“Don’t,” Jasper had whispered inside the empty car as he watched his dad through the windshield, up ahead on the slick road, shouting through the window at the driver of the other car. But watch was all Jasper did. Because he was only twelve at the time. And there was only so much that twelve could do.

Jasper had actually been relieved when the other man got out and was much bigger than his dad. Big enough, he figured, to easily knock Jasper’s dad back in his place. But rage, Jasper learned that night, can make a man many times his natural size.

By the time Jasper was outside the car screaming, “Stop! Stop! Dad, stop it!” his dad’s fists were covered in blood, and the man was on the ground, motionless.

All these years later, Jasper tries not to picture the way the guy’s face had looked after—lumpy and wet and bright red. It’s his dad’s face that haunts him more late at night. The way it looks far too much like his own.

“IN A WAY, I am like him,” Jasper said during one of his many visits to Wylie at the detention facility.

It wouldn’t have been Jasper’s first pick for a date locale, but he was getting used to it. On the upside, they had no choice but to really get to know each other. And Jasper was cool sitting anywhere with Wylie. Had he felt that way about other girls? Maybe. Jasper fell hard and he fell often—his mom was right about that. But that didn’t mean this time with Wylie couldn’t be different. That it wasn’t special.

“You’re nothing like your dad,” Wylie said.

“Come on, that kid that I choked in that Level99 place, the kid I punched in school. I snap, like, a lot of the time,” Jasper said, staring at Wylie so hard his eyes had begun to burn. “I may not be the same as my dad, but I’m not sure I’m all that different.”

And it mattered to Jasper that she didn’t pretend otherwise. He wanted her to know the worst of him (the parts even he hated) and to care about him anyway.

“So, whatever. Even if that is true. You still get to decide what to make of who you are,” Wylie said finally. “Dr. Shepard said that to me, about being an Outlier and being anxious and everything. There’s a lot of gray in the world, Jasper. Wanting to hit someone isn’t the same thing as hitting them. And hitting someone once, or even twice, doesn’t mean you have to be someone who hits forever. Not everything is black and white.”

Jasper looked up at Wylie then. He wasn’t sure if she believed what she was saying. But he was sure that he was falling for her different than ever before. For real. In love. That maybe he was already all the way there.

INSTEAD OF WORKING out with Chance today, Jasper heads home. His mom has been asking him to come every day since he started at camp, and he’s been avoiding her. Partly to get back at her. Even though, to Wylie’s point, his mom is doing her best. And he should know better than anyone that your best isn’t always as good as you’d hoped it would be.

“Oh, you’re here!” his mom calls out as she swings open the door, like she was just sitting there, waiting for him. She’s so happy that she’s pumping up and down on her toes. Jasper feels like an ass. He should have come sooner.

“Yep,” he says, stepping inside. “Here I am.”

“Well, let me see what I have to feed you.” His mom hustles toward the kitchen like she didn’t just get home from a double shift at the hospital. Like she isn’t probably so beat she can barely stand. “I think there’s a lasagna. But that could take a while to heat up. Oh, I wish you’d told me you’d be coming today. I’d have made something special. How about grilled cheese?”

Jasper nods. “Sounds good.” He hates grilled cheese. It’s something his mom has always refused to know. It’s right that he should be forced to eat it now as punishment.

A FEW MINUTES later, Jasper sits staring down at the sandwich that he doesn’t want. But his mom is watching him, and the whole point of coming here is to make her feel better. The least Jasper can do is eat the damn sandwich. He takes a huge bite and chugs a bunch of water to wash it down.

“How was practice this morning?” his mom asks. She sounds nervous. Probably afraid of giving Jasper a reason not to come back. “The other boys on the team still okay?”

Jasper nods. And they are okay. Everything is okay. Sometimes he still has to remind himself. “Preseason is good, really good. You were right about it,” he says. “Chance, my roommate, is a nice guy. Coach is great. A hard-ass. But great.”

His mom nods and forces something of a smile. “That’s wonderful,” she says, but her voice catches.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

Suddenly, she grasps Jasper’s hand, making him startle back. Her fingers are icy, bony. So old, all of a sudden. “I just don’t want you getting distracted, that’s all. Especially not after all the work you’ve put in getting your life back on track.”

“Distracted by what?” he asks. “I was just telling you it was all good.”

“By whatever.” His mom’s eyes dart away. Jasper can’t read shit, but she is a terrible liar. “I’m just saying. You’re doing well. It’s a good thing. We should keep it that way.”

Jasper raises an eyebrow. “Mom, what is up?”

“Nothing’s ‘up’!” she shouts, twisting a napkin so tight it begins to tear. Then she jerks to her feet and starts clearing the dishes. “I just worry about you. That’s what a mother is supposed to do.”

This is her loving me. This is her loving me, he tells himself. But it’s just so hard to believe.

“Mom, I know you only want what’s best for me,” he says. “And you were definitely right about me needing to go to hockey camp and BC. I totally admit that. It’s been really good for me to be there. So thank you for encouraging me to go.”

She takes a loud breath, then smiles up at him. Her eyes are glassy. “I’m so glad.”

“And I’m being straight with you now. So you be straight with me. Why are you all wound up?” he asks. “What’s going on?”

His mom takes another deep breath, looks down at the table, and crosses her arms. “She’s out,” she says finally.

“Who’s out?” Jasper’s heart has begun to pound.

His mom looks up at him and shakes her head, eyes brimming with tears now. “That girl,” she says, the tears finally making their way onto her cheeks. “The girl.”

“Wylie?” Jasper almost shouts. “She’s out of jail?”

His mom nods. “She called here,” she says reluctantly.

“What? When?” Jasper snatches his phone and taps hard through the call log. “She didn’t call me.”

“Not long ago. Couple hours. She doesn’t have your new number.”

“You gave it to her, right?”

“I did not,” his mom says firmly.

“Why not?” Jasper shouts.

“To protect you,” she exclaims, like this should be the most obvious thing. “And I know it’s not going to be easy to stay away. But it’s already been weeks since you’ve seen her. You’re already out of the habit. A clean break. That’s all you need. Don’t get yourself tied into knots again. You got out, Jasper. Keep it that way.”

But Jasper is already on his feet. She’s out. She’s out. That’s all he can think. “I have to go.” He’s moving quickly toward the door.

“Jasper!” his mom shouts after him. “You have a real chance now. Don’t throw your life away for another girl.”

Jasper forces himself to stay calm as he turns back at the door. He can do this. He can say no but stay kind. Respectful.