“His friends don’t understand his loss.”
“No. No. Tyler and Mikey were close to Kyle. They feel the burden of the loss on their hearts as well. I can assure you that,” I respond.
Katie opens her mouth but is cut off by my ringtone. I grab my phone from the table and furrow my brows.
“It’s Mrs. Perkins. I’m sorry, Katie. It’ll just take a moment.” I stand, answering the phone, and hold it to my ear. “Hello, Mrs. Perkins.”
“Kayla. Oh, thank goodness. Is Dallas with you?” I’m shocked by her question. Why would Dallas be with me?
“No. He’s not.”
“It’s just that I know you guys are getting closer, and I figured you might know where he is. He walked out of the house early this morning and hasn’t returned.”
I look over at Katie, who seems to sense the tension. Her spine is straight as she arches an eyebrow. I offer her a small smile to reassure her. However, I am nervous. Dallas is missing, two weeks after Kyle’s death. He’s broken and alone. He could do something stupid. He probably is doing something stupid.
“Do you know where he could be?” she asks, bringing me back to the present.
“Yes. I have an idea. I’ll drive over there now,” I tell her. Mrs. Perkins really doesn’t need to have any more stress or worries on her shoulders.
“Thank you so much, sweetie!”
We hang up, and when I look back at Katie, she’s already on her feet, drink and plates in hand. “Let’s go.” She nods to the door. I smile slightly, glad that she’s understanding as I grab my drink, and together we rush out of the shop, dropping off the plates on our way.
We hop into the car and quickly speed away. I don’t even bother to put music on as we drive toward the only place I can think Dallas would be at today.
The park only holds a young couple and a man walking a dog. The basketball courts are empty aside from a man sitting at center circle, back curved and facing us. I know it’s Dallas. I park the car and tell Katie to wait here.
Jogging over to Dallas, I stop a few feet away when I see a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a switchblade in the other. My eyes widen, and I feel chills prick my spine.
“Dallas?” I whisper softly. What is he doing? It’s broad daylight. Is he wanting to get arrested?
I look around the park and see it has cleared out. The young couple is no longer in sight. I let out a sigh and crouch down beside him.
“Dallas? Can you talk to me?” He doesn’t respond. He only looks down at the blade in his hand, twirling it around his fingers. His blond hair falls across his forehead, slightly in his eyes, but he doesn’t make a move to fix it. I notice tear stains on his cheeks, as to be expected. “Okay. Can you at least put the knife down?” I ask. He still doesn’t respond.
I bite my bottom lip and look back over at my car to see Katie is now out and standing beside it, her arms crossed.
“Can I have the bottle of whiskey?” I ask.
“Do you want some?” he mumbles, his words slurred. Dallas still doesn’t lift his head.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Is that okay? Can we share?” He nods his head and slowly passes the bottle over to me. I grab it carefully and place it behind me so it’s out of sight.
Perhaps he’s like a child. Out of sight, out of mind.
“It’s good, right?” he whispers.
“Hmm. Very good,” I say, my eyes zeroing in on the knife. What is he planning on doing with that? To use it on someone else? Or himself? “What’s going through your mind, Dallas?” I bite my bottom lip.
He doesn’t say anything, only stares down at the knife as he places a pointer finger on the tip. He twists it slightly. I see a red dollop of blood, and I reach over to grab his hand. “Dallas,” I scold, quickly applying pressure to the puncture. “Your mom is worried.”
“She’s always worried,” he says. I frown. She has every right to be worried. She just lost a son. A part of her.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
Dallas uses his knife to point at something on the court. I squint over to see a bunch of scribbles made from the knife. Standing up, I walk over to loom over the scribbles to see “KYLE” scratched into the asphalt. I bite my bottom lip again and look back at Dallas.
At least the knife wasn’t for any murderous tendencies.
“It’s beautiful,” I say. And it is. Spray paint would have washed away eventually. But carving it into the pavement will ensure it will last an eternity. Just as Kyle carving his sign into my kitchen table will last an eternity.
I turn and walk over to sit in front of him, no longer worried about the knife.
“Why are you here, Kayla?” he asks.
“Your mom called. I’m just making sure you’re okay.”
Dallas scoffs and reaches over to grab the bottle, taking a swig before I snatch it out of his grasp. “Mommy sent you to check up on me. Sorry to ruin your day.” I sigh and run a hand through my hair, looking up at Katie again, remembering what she told me.
“I’m here because I want to be. I don’t want you to be alone in this.” Dallas finally lifts his head, and his watery, sky blue eyes meet my hazel ones. I almost cry at the amount of pain swimming around in his eyes.
“I’ll always be alone. And it’s my fault. I should have protected him.” I shake my head, reaching over to place a hand on his jean-clad knee.
“You can’t live in the ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs.’ All you can do is live in honor of Kyle’s memory. You are not alone, Dallas. You have your parents, Tyler, Mikey…” My eyes flicker over to Katie. She’s in the same position. “And me. I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Dallas lets out a sigh and nods his head. “I just miss him.”
“I know. I do too.” I give his knee a squeeze, and Dallas’s lips twitch slightly, almost forming a smile.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” I shrug. “And for pushing you against a car.” I roll my eyes. “And for saying Kyle’s death was your fault.” I tsk my tongue.
“Yeah. You did some horrendous acts. Going to take a whole lot more than ‘I’m sorry’ to gain my forgiveness,” I say, a teasing smile on my face as I try to lighten the mood.
Dallas seems to take in the mood, for he arches an eyebrow and continues with the conversation. “What do I have to do?”
“Well, for one, let me take you home so you can get cleaned up…and…perhaps a movie and fancy dinner. Or you could take me on a hot air balloon ride. Or jet skiing. Or flying on my first airplane flight.” I shrug my shoulders, lightly chuckling. I wasn’t actually expecting any of this to happen, apart from the first condition. He really needs to get home before someone walks by and sees us with a bottle of whiskey.
Dallas gets to his feet, stumbles a bit before he pockets his knife, and reaches down to me. I grab the bottle and then his hand, smiling as he hoists me up. “Let’s go home then,” he says. I lead him to the car, gently trying to let go of his hand; however, he holds tight, and I notice he can barely walk without my little support. I shake my head.
“He okay?” Katie whispers, hopping in the back. I nod my head and let Dallas get in the passenger seat.
I drive him to his house, where I help him out again and up to the front door. He puts a hand on the knob, and when I say goodbye, he grabs my arm. “Next Friday. After school. Pick a movie and I’ll pick a restaurant. See you Monday,” he mumbles, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to my forehead before he opens the door and stumbles inside.
My eyes are wide as I watch him disappear.
As I drive Katie and me home, part of me wishes Dallas would wake up and forget about everything that happened. However, a larger part of me wishes he remembers.
Chapter Six
Acceptance
*Dallas*
September 28, 2015
After Kayla dropped me off at my house on Saturday at three, I took a shower, ate a hearty lunch, and then slept until the next morning. Waking up on Sunday, I felt as if my stoma
ch was heavy, and my head was pounding. I remember vividly the conversation I had with Kayla.
She showed up in the moment I needed someone the most. She was there, talking me away from the bottle of whiskey and reminding me that from now on, I am to be living in honor of Kyle. Not in pain or hatred or anger.
I do have to apologize to her in some extravagant way. I should never have said the things I did to her. It was all out of blind anger, and I regret it completely. Kayla is everything my mother and brother said she is.
Kayla Williams is kind. She is selfless and charismatic. She is a bookworm; however, she doesn’t seem to miss anything that’s going on around her. Her smile lights up the room, and her laugh sends goosebumps up my arms. She’s smart, and…perhaps she is good at basketball. That is still something I’ll have to see for myself.
So Friday night, I will take her out for a movie and dinner. I will apologize for everything, and hopefully from there, we can start a new relationship.
I want Kayla to see me as the man Kyle looked up to. The man my mother was proud of.
I have decided that I need to focus on my schoolwork these next few weeks. Only on school and my friendships. When basketball tryouts come into play, I will hopefully know if I am stable enough to be on the team one last year.
Today is Monday, and while I liked being off school and sleeping in, I have to go back. I’ve already missed too much schoolwork. Tyler and Mikey have been great with providing the homework to me. However, it’s time I went back for good.
When my mom sees me in the kitchen this morning, she isn’t as upset that I’m going back. Instead, she’s making me toast. She is dressed this morning in faded jeans and a simple t-shirt. Her hair is blown dry, and I find myself smiling.
“I hope you have a great day back, sweetie,” she whispers in my ear when she gives me a hug goodbye. I gently squeeze her before I grab my bag and jog outside to my Jeep. It’s a good thing I checked the weather and threw the soft top over my car yesterday, or it would be drenched.
The drive to school is short, and when I pull in, I smile at the students walking in. Again, many girls are carrying Starbucks cups or even Dunkin Donuts.
I jog into the school, shaking my damp hair as I quickly walk to my locker. Tyler and Mikey are waiting there, talking and shoving each other.
“Dallas. Who would win in a fight? Aragorn or Daryl?” I smile at Mikey. Mikey obviously favors Aragorn. The Lord of the Rings trilogy is his favorite movies.
Tyler favors Daryl. His favorite show is The Walking Dead. I personally think both are equally awesome; however, there is no question as to who would be the winner.
“Aragorn. Obviously,” I say, opening my locker.
“Ha! I told you!” Mikey shouts, and Tyler gives Mikey’s shoulder a shove, turning silent. All three of us are competitive, and we don’t like to lose. Even if it’s to a stupid question.
“Aragorn is a Dúnedain. He has elongated life. His best friend is Legolas, an elf. He has explicit training on both bow and sword,” I explain, not caring that I sound like a nerd. All three of us enjoy those movies, and we’re not ashamed. “Oh. And he’s also a king. Now. If you asked Ragnar verses Aragorn…that would have been different.”
Tyler slaps a hand to his forehead, groaning. “Damn! That is such a better opponent!” I laugh. Vikings is another show we like to watch.
“We are idiots,” I mumble, turning and walking toward our Government class. We say goodbye to Mikey before we head in and sit in the back.
When Psychology comes around, I’m a little nervous to see Kayla again. What does she think of me? That I’m some unstable drunk? That’s just not true. Sure, I was unstable and I was drunk; but I don’t drink regularly. In fact, I hardly drink because of basketball.
Kayla is sitting in the back, her head bowed as she quietly reads. I notice the seat next to her is empty, so I walk over to sit beside her. She doesn’t take her eyes off the book, absorbing everything written on the pages.
Only when she’s finished with the chapter does she close the book and sigh, a small smile on her lips. Must have been a good chapter. Her eyes shift over to me, and they slightly widen.
“D-Dallas. Hi,” Kayla stutters slightly. Her hazel eyes drift downward to my hand on the table before they dart to my face. She has a blush on her cheeks.
“Hi, Kayla. How was your weekend?” I ask, picking up my pencil and twirling it around my fingers.
“Oh, it was fine. I had to deal with some drunk teenager Saturday afternoon.” She shrugs, a small smile on her lips. “Apparently he’s taking me to a movie now.” I can’t help but laugh gently.
Kayla has a talent at being able to carry any conversation and make it light and easy. Even when I was crying on the courts, she was still able to lighten the mood a little.
“Well, I think that guy has a lot of making up to do if he made you deal with his drunk self. Couldn’t have been fun,” I respond, playing along with her third person conversation.
Kayla shrugs again. “It wasn’t too bad. In a way, I think a small spark of friendship was formed. But that could have just been me.” I smile.
She feels the same way. That the stupid drunken haze actually formed a friendship. One I am determined to keep.
“I think you’re right.”
“Yeah?” she asks. A full smile breaks her lips, and I notice her spine straighten in hope. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t want to be her friend.
Yes, I understand that I was always hard and cruel to her, but I always saw her as a threat to my relationship with Kyle. I was wrong. She would have been the glue.
Kayla is the answer, the person I need to talk with to cast light on what Kyle’s life looked like outside of basketball. I need her to help me grow closer to his memory.
I need Kayla because I somehow feel Kyle’s presence when I’m with her.
I need Kayla because she is the person who talked me back from the darkness.
I need Kayla because everyone was right. And already I don’t want to think about having her out of my life.
All of these reasons…I’ll make sure I never push her away, never harm her or let harm come to her.
Yes, Kayla. A friendship for you has formed within me. However, I look to you as so much more. In the little time I have known you, you have saved me in more ways than you will ever know.
Chapter Seven
Birthday
*Kayla*
September 29, 2015
“You’re actually going to see a movie with Dallas Perkins on Friday night?” Anne asks, walking beside me as we head into the school, hot cups of coffee in our hands. I pick Anne up at her house every morning, and we drive to Starbucks to pick up two Grande Caramel Macchiatos.
Anne typically gets a ride home after school from her boyfriend, Drew. Drew is a nice guy. He has short brown hair and green eyes. He’s bulky and is a defensive lineman for our football team. I think Anne is too good for him, but all in all, he’s not a bad guy. He makes her happy, and that’s all I care about.
“Yes. We’re actually going to see The Martian. Then he’s treating me to dinner afterward,” I say, a small smile forming on my lips. I’m actually excited for Friday, even though I practically suggested the date myself. Whatever is going on with Dallas and me right now, I’m enjoying it.
Dallas surprised me yet again yesterday when he invited me to sit with him at lunch. However, I had to make up a Trigonometry test from when I missed class for Kyle’s funeral. Mr. Hass gave me a week to study for the material, and I had to make it up by yesterday. So I spent my whole lunch hour taking the test.
Otherwise, I would have accepted his invitation. Even if I would have been nervous to sit with Tyler and Mikey. I’m positive that they don’t like me. Tyler always casts me glances, as if he thinks I’m weird. But I sometimes see the way he looks at me.
Mikey altogether ignores my existence. He could run into me in the halls and keep walking as if nothing happened.
&
nbsp; If I am going to sit with them, Anne will be dragged by her hair to join me. There’s no way I am going to sit with the basketball stars of Waubonsie without the support of my best friend.
“Are you nervous?” Anne asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. I stop at my locker and dial it open to grab a few books and notebooks. I hold them in the crook of my arm as I clutch my coffee, kicking the locker shut.
We head to Anne’s locker next, and as she goes through it, I lean against the row of lockers and sip my coffee.
“I’m not nervous,” I finally answer. “We’re just going as friends.”
Anne snorts, standing straight with a variety of books in her arms. She nudges her locker shut before she looks me in the eye. Anne is a rare kind of beautiful. She has flame red hair and bright hazel eyes. An assortment of freckles sprinkles her cheeks and nose. She’s taller than me, around five feet ten inches. She is slim and athletic. She’s actually on the girls’ basketball team.
Anne has tried over the last three years to get me to join; however, I prefer to play for myself. I don’t enjoy having an audience watching and judging the way I play.
“I doubt Dallas feels the same.” I furrow my brows, confused with what she means. “He looks at you as if you’re some sort of angel.”
It’s my turn to snort. I shake my head. There is no way Dallas would ever look at me that way. Just a week ago, he shoved me against my car and blamed me for Kyle’s death. I know he apologized for it, but a person can’t go from hating me with a passion to looking at me as if I am an “angel.”
“No way.”
Anne and I walk to our Trigonometry class, arguing about who’s right and wrong. No matter what Anne says or thinks, I know I’m right.
Dallas Perkins likes girls like Ashley Delta. He likes girls who have this obvious beauty with blonde hair and tan skin. He likes girls who will give him what he wants.
Enlightened Page 4
