by Mia Kayla
“I can’t,” I protested.
“Look, Bliss”—he sighed—“whatever you’re going through, I’m sure it’s nothing a Mile High Sundae Pie can’t fix. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Ice cream to fix my heart?
I wished it were that simple. It reminded me of when I was younger and my father would cheer me up with Hershey’s Kisses or Hershey’s Hugs.
Maybe getting out wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe ice cream would make me feel a tad better. I wouldn’t know unless I tried, right?
“Okay,” I replied. “But I’ll meet you there.”
We ended up at Molly’s, the same dessert place Evan had taken me on our first date.
The steam from my coffee rose to the top of my mug, floating in the air in a string of white puffs. I sat across from Evan, now rubbing my full belly, while I eyed the brownie sitting on his plate. I’d eaten most of the brownie sundae that we were supposed to share, and it most certainly had not helped. Now, I felt sick to my stomach on top of this gut-wrenching despair.
He’d been mostly quiet while I ate.
He lifted an eyebrow, curious. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on? Or do I have to bribe it out of you somehow?”
I offered him a small smile and shook my head. I didn’t want to relive what I’d been going through the past few days. It would take too much out of me to explain.
“I’m sorry, Evan. I didn’t mean to be a total bummer. I shouldn’t be here.” I took a sip of my coffee, now regretting meeting him.
He put his hand on mine, and my eyes focused there.
“I like you, Bliss. You know this. But a big part of me thinks this is the end. Tell me I’m wrong.”
I had never been in this type of situation before, and it made me uneasy. I pulled at the collar of my shirt. “It’s not you. It’s me,” I said, trying to make light of the situation when it really was the truth.
He forced a small smile as he released my hand and rested his elbows on the table. “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind? If this is about Jimmy, I’ll talk to him again.”
I flinched at Jimmy’s name. It was an automatic reaction as if Jimmy were a bad word. It reminded me of what I was going through, pulling me out of the pretend and into my reality.
Evan caught my reaction. “This is about him, isn’t it?”
I glued my eyes to the white linen tablecloth and the brownie crumbs on the table. “Yes, but please…I don’t want to talk about it.” My voice quivered, all the pent-up emotions leaking out.
I peered up at him, and he smiled softly, sensing my sadness.
“You say the word, and I’ll tell my thugs to teach that guy a lesson.”
I gave a fake laugh. “No need. We’re no longer on speaking terms.” The words had just slipped out, and as soon as they had, I felt a heaviness in my heart from the truth of them. I was no longer speaking to my best friend, the one I had spoken to every single day for most of my existence.
Evan lowered his head, forcing me to look up at him. “Whatever’s going on or not going on between you two, you should know that it’s his loss, Bliss.”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
“And I’m not going to be a nosy asshole, but I kinda want to kick his ass just for seeing you like this right now. Chin up, beautiful girl. Move on.” He stuffed an overly large brownie chunk into his mouth.
I offered him a small smile, his words ringing in my head.
Move on…
Yeah, I need to work on that.
After he paid for the check and we exited the restaurant, he walked me to my car, his hands at his sides. I got the feeling he knew what was coming, that we wouldn’t be going out again.
Awkward silence filled the air.
I turned toward him. The light from an overhead lamp was casting a shadow on his face, revealing his disheartened expression.
His fingertips played lightly on my arms as he looked down on me. “Bliss, you can’t say I didn’t try.”
I exhaled a heavy sigh. “I know. It’s just…bad timing.” If I wasn’t heartbroken at the moment, maybe I could give this guy a chance. But because I couldn’t think straight, because my mind wasn’t clear, it wouldn’t be fair to use him to move on.
He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Well, you know where to find me. Call me when it’s a good time.” He was sincere.
I nodded once. “I’ll do that.”
He opened my door, and I slid into the driver’s seat. Shutting the door, I watched him leave through the dimness of the night.
Someday, I hoped that good time would come. Maybe Evan would find another girl by then.
I prayed that I would fully heal one day, and all this hurt, this emptiness, would disappear. I had a glimmer of hope that through the darkness, there would be light.
I touched where Evan had just kissed my cheek, and I couldn’t help my thoughts from flickering to the very first time I had been kissed, causing that familiar pang in my chest to resurface.
DURING THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, I tried to avoid everything that was football and Jimmy Brason, but whenever I flipped through the channels, I couldn’t help but stop on the sports channel to see Jimmy’s beautiful face.
My chest constricted as I watched him on the screen. When I wasn’t looking at him, I just felt numb. But now, just watching him on TV, I was bombarded all over again with that intense longing for the guy who, for a just a brief moment, had been mine.
The interviewer asked Jimmy about the start of the season. The New York Cougars had their first game in a week. Jimmy said he was excited. Those words came out of his mouth, but there was a direct disconnect from what he was saying and what was shown in the sorrow that trickled through his eyes. He wasn’t his usual self at all on camera. There was no sparkle and no enthusiasm in his voice. On the field and on camera were where Jimmy was usually amplified, where he shined, but now, he just seemed…glum.
A big part of me, the selfish part, hoped the disheartened look on his face was because of me.
After another painful minute, I shut off the TV. I didn’t want to think about the start of the season and how I wouldn’t be there for his first game.
Many, many years ago, I had promised a certain boy that I would be there for every first game. During college, I had been there for every first game of the season during all four years. For his first ever professional start, I had been there. But this year would be the only time that I wouldn’t be there.
It hurt to think about it, that this would be the first time I wouldn’t be there to cheer him on.
I still remembered the day when I had made that promise.
Past—Junior Year of High School
The roar of the high school crowd was deafening. I scanned the team of beefy men in yellow and blue, looking for Jimmy’s number. After a few minutes, the boys took the field, and spectators around me began chanting and cheering.
My eyes automatically flew to the center where he should have been. I furrowed my brows when I saw number fifty-five take the field before the team surrounded him in a huddle. Jimmy was twenty-nine. Where was he?
I reached for my phone.
Me: Where are you? And why is Evan on the field?
After a few seconds, he texted back.
Jimmy: At the lake.
The lake?
Something was wrong. Jimmy would never miss a game, not unless he was on his deathbed.
I grabbed my pink Puma backpack next to me and darted down the bleachers, taking the steps two at a time. I jolted through the parking lot and climbed into my Civic.
When I reached the lake, I parked and sprinted to the meadow, scanning the area. Jimmy was sitting on the sand, his feet touching the water.
“Jimmy!” I yelled.
He gave me a sad smile, and my chest constricted at the look on his face.
He dropped his head back down, peering at his phone in his hand.
“Are you okay?” I jogged to where he was sitting, Indian-style, on t
he sand. “Why aren’t you on the field?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
He shrugged and continued to mess with his phone. “I quit.”
I studied his creased forehead, his melancholy smile, and then I sat down next to him. “Why?” The cool air from the lake blew in my direction, giving me goose bumps.
“I just don’t want to do it anymore.”
I could see the peach fuzz starting to grow around his chin. I hated his facial hair, and he knew it, too. I wanted to tweeze his stubble away.
“Why not?” My gym shoes dipped into the sand, the tiny granules getting into my socks.
He continued to play with his phone. “I don’t know.” He shrugged again. “Maybe I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am.”
Was he joking? He knew he was talented.
I lifted an eyebrow and laughed out loud. “You’re so full of crap.”
He tried not to smile but failed, a dimple appearing on his cheek.
“Is this where you want me to build up your ego?” I sassed. Taking on a high-pitched voice, I teased, “Oh, Jimmy, you’re the best player in the whole wide world, and one day, you’re going to play for the NFL.”
When he didn’t laugh at my sarcasm, I knew something was wrong. I kicked off my shoes and scooted next to him, coming so close that our knees touched.
“What’s the matter, Jimmy?” I bumped his shoulder with mine, trying to get a different reaction out of him, trying to erase that desolate look on his face.
His shoulders slumped as he met my eyes. “I play for me. Yeah. But I always played for him, for my dad. Even though he wasn’t there during my games, I always wanted to be like him. I played hard, you know? That’s what he used to tell me—that we were both born for this, for playing the game.” He went silent for a few seconds, swallowing hard.
My heart hurt for my best friend. The way his dad had left was unforgivable.
How could a father abandon his own flesh and blood, just get up and leave? He’d only fessed up because he’d gotten caught by a photographer who disclosed his secrets.
I wanted to punch Jimmy’s dad into the next country for hurting him.
Jimmy grabbed a handful of sand, letting the tiny particles slip through his fingers. “And now…I can’t play anymore without thinking about him and how much he hurt me and Mom by leaving us.” His face fell, his voice full of pain no seventeen-year-old should ever know. “Boo, she’s different now. He’s ruined her.”
I felt a soreness in my lungs from the ache in my heart, sympathizing with my best friend. “What do you mean?”
He gave a sad shrug. “Just different. I don’t know. Depressed. She never smiles anymore. She locks herself in her room every night, and all I can hear is her sobbing. When I knock on her door, she says she’s okay, but when it’s quiet and I know she’s asleep, I check on her. Be—”
He paused and turned away but not before I saw the fear in his eyes.
“Because she drinks so much, and I just want to make sure she’s still breathing, still alive.” He started picking at the sand below his feet. “I go into her room and clean up her shit. Sometimes, I pick her up off the floor. She’s gotten so piss-ass drunk that she falls asleep in the bathroom. Then, I put her in bed and tuck her in.”
His chin trembled as he focused on the water, and I rested my head on his shoulder, my way of letting him know I was there.
“They were together since high school. He was her life. And I thought…” After his voice broke, he paused. “I thought we were his life. I’m never going to forgive him for leaving us, for breaking up our family.”
Glancing at his profile, I could see the pain in his eyes, so I did the only thing I knew to console him. I wrapped my arms around his middle to console him because that was what we always did.
He melted into my hold and released a heavy sigh. “Boo, I don’t wanna lose her. She’s all I got left.”
Every part of me just wanted to take away his pain. “It’s okay, Jimmy. I’m not going to let that happen.” I released him, tucked my knees under me and reached for his hand. “We are not going to let that happen.” I smiled at him, trying to make him see hope.
As he remained silent beside me, I started ticking off ideas, “Tomorrow, I’ll bake her some oatmeal chocolate cookies, her favorite. My mom and dad will drag her to your football games again. We’re going to come over for dinner and then force movie night on her. We’ll make her see the light in things, Jimmy. We’re going to help her heal faster, be happy again. You’ll see.” I shook his arm, trying to erase the melancholy look on his face.
I knew I had to be the hope for both of us right now because he couldn’t. I could do that. I’d do anything for him.
He peered down at me and gave me a sad smile. “What would I do without you, Boo?” He rested his head on top of mine.
I just held on to him, loving this closeness. I didn’t get this with anyone else.
Today wasn’t a huge surprise really. I’d sensed his withdrawal recently. I could see it every time he’d pick up a football. The betrayal of his dad leaving them had cut a wound so deep that I doubted it would ever heal.
When his father had left, I’d made a promise to myself that I would help Jimmy through it. However long it took, I’d be there for him.
“I’m your number one fan,” I told him, trying to lighten the mood. “You can play for me now. I’ll always be there. Even in college and when we’re far apart, I’ll always be there, Jimmy, for every first game of the season at least. I promise.”
Our eyes locked, and a moment later, he kissed the top of my head. I smiled and held out my pinkie to seal our promise. When he wrapped his pinky around mine, only then did I see the two dimples I loved so much appear.
A smile—this was progress. I knew we would be okay as long as we had each other.
Present Day—First Game of the Season
I bit my bottom lip, wondering how I’d ended up here.
I’d tried all I could to talk myself out of it, but still, I couldn’t break a promise I’d made so many years ago. I just couldn’t. So, last night, I’d found myself booking a very expensive flight to New York, so I could attend Jimmy’s first game of the season. Even though I shouldn’t have, I still had.
Like the night before the first day of school, I hadn’t been able to sleep. Last night, insomnia had hit hard, especially since I hadn’t seen Jimmy in what seemed like forever.
As soon as I stepped inside the stadium, I knew it’d been the right thing to do. But that didn’t stop my heart from pumping loudly in my chest. I took a deep breath and wrung my hands together, feeling the nervousness bubbling up inside of me. I was always nervous before the first game of the season, so technically, this was nothing new.
I watched the sea of blue and orange fill the eighty thousand seat stadium, and I closed my eyes, just listening to the already deafening buzz of the crowd around me. The exhilaration of the fans permeated the air.
I’d been here multiple times last season, more than just the first game. I’d been up in the VIP section. Sitting next to the wives, I’d bounced with pride while secretly pretending to be one of them. I’d act as though I were a part of the exclusive club they belonged to.
For today, I’d paid top dollar to sit in the front row. There wasn’t anywhere else I’d wanted to be even though Jimmy didn’t have a clue that I was here. It was the first game of the year, and I couldn’t have missed it, even now when we weren’t talking and we were supposedly no longer friends.
In the atmosphere, I could feel the energy, the excitement, the anticipation. It all gave me goose bumps. I’d come alive here many times before when I had watched Jimmy play. I wasn’t into crowds, but no one paid attention to this shy girl at these things.
Today, we were all part of the same team, cheering and hoping for that win.
I remembered when I’d first gone to these events in elementary school. I’d been with our parents on the sidelines, my fists fidgeting on my l
ap while secretly screaming Jimmy’s name. In high school, I’d still sat with our parents, but instead of sitting and quietly chanting, I’d stood and yelled along with the crowd. During our four years of college, I’d been there, sitting on the stands among the herd of people, cheering him on like everyone else.
Now, as I stood here today, I felt a nervous clench in my stomach. I hated this feeling, being separated from him and him not knowing I was here to cheer him on.
I glanced out at the mass of blue uniforms on the home side, scanning the players warming up on the field, and then I saw Jimmy. My heart constricted at the sight of him. I clenched my jaw, taking him all in. It felt like I hadn’t seen him in years even though it had only been three weeks—the longest three weeks of my life.
The sane part of my mind knew I shouldn’t have come. I should have stayed home. But I couldn’t miss today. It felt wrong, especially since his mom was still in rehab. Someone had to be here for him, and it was going to be me even if we would never speak to each other again.
His sandy-brown hair was disheveled, which always meant he was nervous. Before every game, he always ran his hand through his hair multiple times as though he wanted to pull it out by the roots.
I wrung my hands together as I watched him, wishing I could comfort him, touch him, and tell him I was here. I hated that he felt alone today.
Suddenly, I had to fight the impulse to leave, to run. Just being in the same vicinity as him had me longing to be next to him, but I was sure it wouldn’t have been any easier to watch him on TV.
Squashing the urge to run, I told myself I would watch him play for a little bit, and then I’d head back to my hotel room at halftime. At least this way, I had kept my promise.
The jumbotron overhead focused on him, and I watched as his eyebrows pulled together while he talked to his coach. His gaze flickered up to where the wives were sitting—where I should be, where his mom would have been if she wasn’t in rehab. It was just a quick look, and then his lips turned down, his attention returning to his coach.
He looked so alone, even while surrounded by all his teammates, and I felt a dead weight in the center of my chest and a heaviness in my heart, making it hard for me to breathe.
