“I would,” Sam says, all of the anger rushing out of him, his shoulders dropping as a heavy weight settles down on them. A weight that I recognize. Then… he confirms it. “I loved her too. Really loved her. And I would never let her go.”
We stare at each other, his words knocking me speechless. But he isn’t done.
“You don’t deserve her, Kyle,” he says, his voice low. “You never did.”
He turns and stalks off the field, his broad shoulders fading farther and farther away into the distance. I watch Sam disappear completely from view, my head spinning.
Sam loved Kimberly?
I see it now, the pieces clicking into place. The way he would stand behind her protectively. The way he always deferred to her. How broken he was after she died.
How the hell did I miss it? How, in all these years, did I not notice that my best friend was in love with my girlfriend?
The other guys act like they weren’t watching the fight go down. No one comes over, and I don’t expect them to. I haven’t been close to any of these guys for a long time. I didn’t see it until now, but when I left the team, I left them behind too.
Everyone but Kim and Sam.
So how did I not notice he loved her?
Because I was selfish.
The words ring around my head, crystal clear. Painfully true.
All I did was see the world, my friends, my girlfriend, through my lens. I didn’t once bother seeing it through any of theirs.
* * *
Later that night, Mom finds me in my room, my eyes fixed on a small dot on the ceiling.
“You wore it, you help fold it,” she says, dropping the laundry basket on the floor by my door. I groan and roll out of bed to follow her upstairs, one hand clutching a bag of frozen peas to my bruised side, the other juggling the basket.
Mom keeps glancing at me as the two of us start folding together in her bedroom.
“I thought this was supposed to be a touch game.”
“It was for me. Sam, though…”
I didn’t plan on saying anything, but my mind hasn’t stopped going over it all. So I tell her everything. About the fight. And Marley.
“Sam’s right,” I say after a moment of silence, a worn Ambrose High football sweatshirt in my hand. “Maybe I never deserved Kim at all. Maybe she was too good for me.”
“What does Sam know?” she says, rolling up a pair of socks and tossing them at me. “You’re allowed to have other friends. Even other… more than friends.”
My stomach lurches, but I can’t go there right now. I can’t stop thinking about what Sam said. “He was in love with Kim,” I say finally, expecting her to look up. To be surprised. But instead she nods. She knew. This whole time, was I the only one oblivious to it?
Did Kim know?
It’s just another question I’ll never be able to ask her.
I watch as Mom folds a towel, her face becoming thoughtful. “So… what are you going to do?” she asks.
“About what?”
Mom rolls her eyes at my lack of response.
“You’re a hopeless romantic, honey. I’ve watched you with Kimberly since you were eight years old. Once you set your heart on her, no one else would do, even when you drove each other crazy,” she says finally. “But because of that, you never let yourself imagine your life without her. You always centered everything around her, and… that’s a lot of pressure in a relationship. A lot of pressure on a person who’s still figuring out who they are.”
“Mom—” I start to say.
“Just listen. Why did you get Kim that bracelet?”
“Because I loved her,” I say adamantly. “I wanted to show her how much I loved her.” She just stares and raises one of her eyebrows like she’s waiting for me to continue. I let out a long exhale, looking away as I slowly fold a pair of sweatpants. “And… because I could tell something was up. I thought the bracelet would remind her of everything we’d already made it through. Show her we could fix whatever was wrong.”
She nods. “You were always trying to fix things instead of thinking about why they were broken. It’s hard to build anything if the foundation has cracks.” She pauses to grab another shirt. “And that doesn’t mean that you two didn’t love each other. It just means that maybe you two were operating on two different wavelengths.”
Operating on different wavelengths. Sometimes when we’d fight, it really did feel like we weren’t having the same conversation. I think about that night. Our conversation in the car. Were we on the same page then?
How many times were we on different pages without even realizing it?
“Kim’s always going to be part of you, Kyle, but you have to live your own life. She doesn’t get a say anymore. You’ve got a lot of days ahead of you. They could all be like this one, folding laundry with your sweet, devoted mother.…” She folds a shirt while my hands remain frozen, clutching mismatched socks. “Or you could try to live your life without her, allow yourself to really live,” she says, looking up at me. “See where the wind takes you.”
I smile, but I’m silent for a moment, reaching out to take a pair of jeans. That’s what Kim said. Exactly what she said. Kim wanted to see who we were without each other too.
She’d realized it. Mom had realized it.
It was me who hadn’t.
This time, though, it makes sense. This time… I might actually understand.
And with that understanding comes the realization that Sam’s both right and wrong at the same time.
We do need to remember Kim. And… well, it would be impossible to forget her even if I tried. She’s tangled up in every part of who I’ve been. I wouldn’t be here without her.
But we can’t be stuck, immobilized without her. Immobilized by what she wanted.
We have to figure it out for ourselves now.
“I’ve been talking to Marley about what I might want to do. Since football is out now,” I say slowly, and Mom’s eyes light up instantly. “Do you think I’d be a good sportswriter? I thought I could take a class or maybe apply for an internship or something.”