Just Hold On: A love letter to a lost soul

By Morgan Cacic

Kali Anderson is smart, brave, independent . . . and excruciatingly lonely. She longs to be loved and has her eye on Troy Nelson - athlete, cool guy, ridiculously handsome, but she knows she'll never have a chance. Why would anyone ever fall for her? Battling a mood disorder, generalized anxiety, and OCD, everyday is a challenge for Kali.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AK Brewer Publishing
• Release date: Mar 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798986105369

Book preview

Just Hold On

a  love letter to a lost soul

to all the lonely girls,

I love you.

Prologue

CUT MY LIFE INTO PIECES, THIS IS MY LAST RESORT.

SUFFOCATION.

NO BREATHING.

The ringtone jolts me awake. It’s on full blast, and it won’t stop. I open my eyes to see where I am. I’m on my stomach – green, orange, and brown flecked carpet stretching out in every direction. I see him lying next to me. My boss. My mouth tastes like vomit. As quietly as possible, I roll off the crunchy carpet and sneak out of the house. I call Nicole, and I start walking.

As it turns out, the guy with the extremely outdated ringtone just so happens to be my boss from the excuse of a job I had last summer. He’s not that much older than me – nineteen – and despite the ringtone, he’s actually a pretty good time.

I don’t like him though – and that’s what sucks. He’s just one more guy in a random string of hookups since I broke up with my boyfriend sixteen months ago. To understand why I don’t like this guy, but repeatedly find myself waking up on his bedroom floor, you have to know what happened with Troy.

Chapter 1

Envision a tall, disheveled, dark haired guy, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. Now picture a small girl standing next to him, a bow in her straight–as–rain red hair and one tied around the waist of her sundress. Overall, she looks pretty happy. But the way she’s holding onto him is a bit too desperate, as if she fears she might disappear if she accidentally let go. Her eyes are a little too strained around the corners, and it doesn’t look like it would be exactly easy to detach her from his side. You might wonder why this albeit desperate, but sweet girl is interested in this utterly uninteresting guy. 

The thing is, she’s not. She was, however, two years ago, when the stars and fates and planets . . . 

. . . all revolved around him.

***

I’m in my high school gym class at 8 am on Monday morning. This might not sound like the best start to the day, but if I’m in gym class it means I get to see Troy Nelson in a shirt so tight I can see each individual abdominal muscle flexing underneath. It also means I get to stare at his dark green eyes and his tousled brown hair, and listen to his ridiculously obnoxious and incredibly adorable laugh. He possesses something I’ve always wanted, but never thought I had – classic good looks. If you knew that was waiting for you every morning at 8 am, getting up and going to school wouldn’t seem like such a bad prospect.

I hurry to change in the locker room to be out on time for class, but this is usually a challenge considering I have to wait in line to change in the bathroom instead of out in the common area with everyone else. 

I am extremely uncomfortable with my body. This stems from a long childhood of stinging remarks of classmates and friends, endured for the greater part of my life, and not helped at all by the light brown freckles covering every. single. inch. of. my. body. I’ve learned not to let my insecurities show on the outside, but they burn in the pit of my stomach on the inside. 

I make it out just in time, in my long black sweatpants and loose fitting T–shirt – appearing calm – but fervently searching for Troy’s location all the while.

Hey, what’s with the pants? It’s roasting in here! my friend Nicole says.

Oh! I say somewhat startled, I, um, forgot my shorts at home. I manage to get out. Even she doesn’t know how I feel about myself, and we've been friends since we were five. I long to be close to people, but my insecurities make me unable to trust them and reluctant to let them know who I really am. Who am I, anyway?

I contemplate this as we start walking our laps around the gym, and I ask her what she thinks of Troy.

He’s cute! she says, smiling brightly.

Well, that’s good to know. I’m glad to have her approval, but I don’t know why I bother to think this anyway, it’s not like he would ever be interested in me. There’s no way anyone that good looking or in that good of shape would even think twice about someone like me. 

These are the typical thoughts that plague my existence as soon as I consider the thought of liking someone. I reject the notion of being liked back almost immediately, as if the thought is somehow repulsive to me, when the truth is I long for it desperately.

Yeah, but he’ll never talk to me, I reply pitifully.

Oh stop that Kali! You always say that! Nicole snaps back, half exasperated. 

Easy for you to say! I want to scream back. I don’t feel like having that argument again, though, so I remain quiet.

  I might not think much of myself, but I don’t actually think I am ugly. [Editor’s Note: She’s not. No one is. You can only be ugly if you’re mean.] And in spite of my insecurities, I still can’t understand why no one wants to date me. I hope it’s just some ridiculous teenage phase I’ll grow out of someday.

I have a sensitive soul and experience emotions intensely. When it gets really bad, I rock back and forth, uncontrollably, sitting on my bedroom floor, arms wrapped around legs pulled tight to my heaving chest, gasping for air. But this usually only happens at night.

When I’ve had a bad day.

And I’m alone.

I’m normal for the most part besides that.

Chapter 2

I fervently search for Troy each day when the bell rings at the start of class and make sure I am constantly aware of where he is in the gym at all times. Sometimes I wonder if he catches me staring at him, but if he does, I sure wouldn’t know it because I haven’t seen him even acknowledge my existence. Why would he though? He doesn’t even know me! All I can think about, every morning, is him noticing me. But by the end of the semester I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t even know my name. 

Like all good things (or obsessions, rather) the semester ends, and the chances of me seeing or having a class with Troy are slim. 

It’s a new quarter, though, and I’m excited about all the folders and binders I got for my new classes. I love school and I always have. I love to learn, I love to read, and I love to write. But at my school, those aren’t the kind of students who are popular. I watch the popular kids from afar, carefree and not much interested in academics, and wonder what their lives are like, but never really desire to be one of them. I’m perfectly content hiding behind my books and my grades, the only place I can really feel good about myself. 

***

I walk into art class and Troy is sitting there. My heart hammers in my chest, blood rising in my face. I look down and go right to my seat.

Hey Kali, I talked to your sister the other day.

Who’s Kali? And why is he talking to her? Oh my god, that’s me! No, it can’t be me, there has to be another Kali. But there are no other Kalis in this school! I am instantly mortified. I cannot believe he’s talking to me. Or that he knows my name for that matter. Just act cool! Act normal. Act normal. Act normal. I say it over and over and over again, until it’s been an inappropriately long time without an answer.

Oh, yeah? I ask nonchalantly, continuing to look down at my books and play with the corner of a tattered textbook page.

Yeah.

Silence.

Was that it?

Wait a minute, he just talked to me! He literally said words to me. He obviously has noticed who I am at least. Oh god, I cannot believe he just talked to me! Ryan knows him? That means I might be able to talk to her about him and ask her some questions.

My brain starts to work again and after a minute or two I am convinced he has a girlfriend. Of course he does – he’s gorgeous! He’s popular, has tons of friends . . . of course he has a girlfriend. 

  And what is the answer to number ten, Ms. Anderson?

Definitely has a girlfriend, I mumble, shuffling dejectedly through my papers.

  Excuse me? Mr. White asks.

It’s definitely the third one! I nearly shout as I continue frantically searching through my papers looking for the assignment. Good thing I proofread the assignment three times last night and know all the answers by heart.

That is correct, he replies, a slightly befuddled look on his face. 

My face is beet red by this point, and I can feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of my head. I refuse to acknowledge them, however, continuing to shuffle through my papers as if nothing out of the ordinary has just occurred. 

Good save, my friend Mave whispers next to me. 

I give her a really confused look like I have no idea what she’s talking about, straighten up, and actually start to pay attention to class.

An hour later, I bolt out of the classroom. I look out of the corner of my eye and see Troy a little bit behind me, trying to catch up. Or am I just imagining he’s trying to catch up? I make a bee–line straight to my locker as I speed up and try to forget that he ever said a word to me.

Now that class is over I realize I actually have no idea what we talked about or were supposed to have learned. I was obviously thinking about Troy the entire time, worried about not saying anything stupid in front of him. I turn around, paranoid that he’s still behind me. Just as I’m thinking this, I see him walk past with a group of friends. I chance a look out of the corner of my eye to see if he’ll look at me or try to talk to me again. He doesn’t.

Hey there, buddy!

I quickly turn back towards my locker at the loud greeting and smack my face right against the hard metal door.

What the heck Andrew! You scared the crap out of me! I yell as I shove him out of my way, so I can get the rest of my books, rubbing my face.

Sorry! All I did was say hello, he trails off uncertainly.

Andrew is my workout buddy, and every night after school we spend time in the gym. We don’t really talk that much, but I also try not to get too personal because I have a suspicion he may like me as more than a friend. Andrew is nice and all, but he’s too good looking, even more so than Troy. Too good looking is too much for me. I would never feel good enough.

Spending time with Andy every night has meant something a little more to him, whether he’s too good looking or not, however, and this has somehow led him to believe that he is entitled to at least some part in my life. Because of this, I ease up a bit.

Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I was just really concentrating on something and wasn’t expecting anyone.

Yeah, right, I saw you, he says. You were staring at Troy like you always do.

What are you talking about? Troy Nelson? Get real.

I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, Kali. Everyone knows about it. You make it so obvious. Cue dramatic eye–roll.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, I reiterate while shaking my head and turning back into my locker, so he won’t see how red my face has gotten. Andy, being the people pleaser that he is, immediately changes tack when he notices the conversation has gone sour.

Oh come on Kals, he says playfully, lightly punching me in the shoulder. You know I was just kidding. I gotta get to class. See you after school?

Sure thing! I yell after him halfheartedly, confused and irritated. 

He really is nice, and I know he didn’t mean anything. It almost makes me wish I could see myself with him, but there’s some pull towards Troy that I just can’t seem to ignore.

Chapter 3

It’s been four weeks since Andy made it clear to me that my attentions on Troy weren’t going as unnoticed as I had hoped, and yet my daily routines in the hallway are now completely dictated by him. He hasn’t talked to me at all since that first day of the new semester, but I continue to walk by his usual haunts between every passing period, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I try to be discreet, hiding myself in the throng of people crowding the hallways as I search for him through the cracks, hoping that maybe one day the jostling of bodies will push me right out and onto his lap.

Sometimes my stalking pays off, and I see him chatting with friends, grabbing things from his locker. But he never looks at me or pays me any attention. This is hopeless! But for some reason I can’t not think about him. I can’t shake it, and I wish I could. He will never pick me.

No one will.

It’s a bit sad, really, that I’m even entertaining the idea of him one day possibly noticing me and doing something about it. What would I even do? I’ve started getting to school at the same time as him in the morning, so I can walk in behind him and walk past his locker while he puts his things away. Once, I drove all the way back to school one evening to grab a calculator I ‘forgot’ just to see if I’d run into him coming out of wrestling practice.

Lately, however, he’s been getting to school really late, and I’ve had to start coming a little earlier, you know, because I certainly can’t be late to class.

I love coming to school. I love feeling smart, it’s the only security I have. The only thing I’m good at. I certainly won’t be risking my one security blanket for a chance at love, no matter who it is.

Even with my continuous stalking, Troy has somehow managed to become less of an obsession over the past few days, mostly due to the fact that Andy has gradually stopped making sly references as to who I might be interested in, and I have started to feel more comfortable around him. I am grateful for this because it takes my mind off things, and it’s nice to have somebody to keep me company while I wallow in my loneliness.

I still refuse to talk about Troy with him, though. It’s not that I wouldn’t talk to him about it. I know he would take the secret to his grave, and I really could vent about all the built–up tension about this whole thing . . . it’s just that we’ve been spending quite a lot of time together, and it would crush him if I flat out told him the truth. He’s too good of a friend for me to do that, and I simply couldn’t take the added stress of having one of my closest friends be mad at me on top of everything else.

These are the thoughts that trail behind me down the hall as I walk to study hall three weeks later, ruminating on how pretty soon I’ll no longer have class with Troy and wondering whether this is a blessing or a curse. Nothing has developed in class – he hasn’t talked to me since the first day and still apparently hasn’t noticed I’ve been stalking him. Is it really stalking? I decide that it’s probably more of a blessing when my thoughts are rudely interrupted by a whisper from Nicole across the table. When did she get here?

Hey, we need to talk! Follow me over to the computers, she whispers while grabbing me around the wrist and dragging me over to the computers in the back of the room, where it’s less likely we’ll get in trouble for talking.

What do you think you’re doing, I have to study! I hiss at her.

Study, schmuddy – this is more important! she replies as she ungracefully plops herself in a chair and shoves me into another.

She looks all too excited – her dark brown eyes sparkling – and maybe even a little irritated about something, but I can’t for the life of me guess what it could be.

Well, I say, clearly annoyed, You gonna say something or not? I don’t have all day!

"Am I going to tell you? she scream–whispers, feigning offense. Don’t you mean are you going to tell me? Kali, you’ve been hanging out with Andrew Clemmons, Andrew freaking Clemmons, and haven’t even mentioned it to me?!" Great, now the whole school is going to think by tomorrow that I’m going out with Andy.     

It’s not like that! I hiss back, trying to keep my voice under control. "We hang out in the