She’s always had this fire, this magnetism that pulls people into her orbit. At school, I usually have to wade through a crowd of people just to get to her, so I keep my eyes peeled for the largest group and a flash of that particular shade of blond that manages to hold whatever light is in the room.
It’s been like that for as long as I can remember, the color the same as it was when we fought over the last swing on the playground in third grade.
I push into the crowd, and people part to let me through, smiles and high fives coming from every direction.
“Gonna miss those articles in the sports section next year, Lafferty,” Mr. Butler, my journalism teacher, says, giving me a pat on the back as I pass by him. Another reminder of all that time sitting on the bench, writing about the games instead of actually playing in them.
Where is she?
The disco ball overhead sends out glimmers of sparkling light, making it hard to see much of anything. I’m about to pull out my phone and fire off a text when…
There.
Her blond hair peeks past Sam’s broad shoulders as she shifts her weight ever so slightly to her left hip, her silk dress hugging her sides. She looks incredible tonight, long hair flowing around her shoulders, blue eyes bright and open, lips shiny with gloss.
But as I get closer, I see her face is serious, the familiar wrinkle in her forehead forming as she talks, like it always does when something is up. It’s a look I saw a week ago at prom and this afternoon when we were taking graduation pictures, but whenever I ask, it all gets smoothed away with a wave of her hand.
I look from her to Sam, watching as he nervously runs his fingers through his dark hair.
And that’s when I realize they must be talking about UCLA. The tension melts from my shoulders.
Kim and I have already committed, but Sam was wait-listed. Sam and I always dreamed of playing football together at UCLA, but after homecoming that was all over, thanks to me and my injury. I let the both of us down. After I was sidelined, Sam dropped so many passes and missed so many blocks, he was riding the bench almost as much as I was. When all of his football prospects dried up, his grades took a sharp dip right alongside his football career. So Kim’s been helping him send in some essays and updated supplements that’ll hopefully tip the scale in his favor.
Judging by the last few weeks, we’ll definitely need him there. Not only is he the friend that’s stuck with me through the mess of this last year, but he’s the glue that holds our trio together. He’s the voice of reason in all things, especially when Kim and I fight. He’s the one who pulls us back together when things get rough.
If he gets in, we could still all go to UCLA together. Even if we aren’t on the field anymore.
But from the look on Kim’s face, it seems like that might not be happening.
I walk over, wrap an arm around Kimberly’s waist, and lean in for a kiss. She returns it absentmindedly, her lips distracted.
“What’s up? What’s wrong?” I ask, looking from her to Sam and back again.
She leans in for another kiss, and her lips firmly meet mine this time, reassuring me, but she doesn’t answer.
I’m about to ask again, but I just shake off the weirdness instead. Everyone’s shaking off the old shit tonight, so we can too. Leave whatever this is behind for now. I came to celebrate with them, after all. I look both ways before unbuttoning my suit jacket to reveal the flask I smuggled in. “What do you say we go to the pond and—”
The words don’t even leave my mouth before lightning flashes on the other side of the window, illuminating the entire sky with electricity. The glass shakes ever so slightly with the long roll of thunder, and my reflection wobbles in it, staring back at me, but Sam’s and Kimberly’s are staring at each other.
“Nah, man,” he says, pointing to the sky. “I’m not looking to get fried alive tonight.”
“Oh, come on,” I say as fat drops of rain begin to loudly splatter against the window. “What’d you do with Sam? A little bad weather never stopped you before.” I knock the back of my hand against his shoulder. “Remember the blizzard after we won state two years ago? I think you were the one insisting we go. I’m pretty sure I still have frostbite.”
They don’t say anything. The silence makes my skin prickle with an uneasy feeling.
“What?” I ask, trying to meet Kimberly’s eyes. But she looks away at the streamers just over my shoulder instead. I’m beginning to think this isn’t about Sam’s application.
My hand slips from her waist as I pull away. “What aren’t you guys telling me?”
“I…,” she starts to say, her voice trailing off. Sam looks away.
The rain on the other side of the glass comes down even harder now.
“Tell me,” I say again as I slip my hand into hers, just like I have so many times. I look at her wrist and think of the bracelet in my jacket pocket, the pages of that small silver diary spelling out “I U.”
But then I see her start to do that fidgety thing she does just before she tells me something I’m not going to like. I brace myself as she finally straightens and looks me dead in the eyes. The downpour of rain washes out every voice in the room but hers as the truth finally comes out.
* * *
“Kyle!” I hear Kim’s voice call out from behind me as the drops loudly beat onto the metal roof of the front portico.
How could she?
It keeps repeating in my head as I make my way down the steps. I’m already handing my ticket to the valet when Kimberly comes running out after me. I ignore her.
“Wait, Kyle, please,” she says, reaching for my arm.
The instant her fingers touch me, my instinct is to lean into her, but I pull away and grab my keys from the valet as I step out into the rain. “Don’t bother. I got it.”
She follows me, trying to give me an explanation that I don’t want to fucking hear. If she really wanted to explain, she should have done it long before now instead of blindsiding me the day of our graduation.
“I should have told you, but I didn’t want to hurt you—”