I go to look for Whitney, and I hope that maybe, finally, we can put everything behind us. I look everywhere, but the crowd is huge, and I can't see anything beyond the pounding slaps of all the fans cheering our performance. Some of my teammates are coming up for hugs and high-fives, but it's Cory who really sees me. "What's wrong?"
"Where's Whitney?" I yell, looking around. "I can't find her!"
Cory nods, and slaps Pete Barkovitch. "Find Dani! She’ll know where Whitney is.”
Pete disappears, and Cory grins. "Chill, Golden Boy. You earned a bit of glorification. We'll find your girl."
Cory disappears, and I wait. The crowd lessens, and soon, there's only a few left, kids reenacting stuff they just saw, a few guys with their parents or their girlfriends, and me. I look around, desperate. "Whitney? WHITNEY!"
"Troy," a tearful voice says behind me, and I spin to see Danielle, her face streaked with tears as she stands there. "She . . . she's gone."
"What do you mean, gone?" I ask, not understanding. "Gone home? Why?"
Dani shakes her head and takes out an envelope. "I promised her I'd give this to you after the game. I . . . I'm sorry, Troy."
I open the envelope, not caring about the nearly identical sized one from Clement in my helmet, and unfold a single sheet of thick paper, no mere notebook paper like Whitney's note in my helmet liner, but high-quality stationary. The writing is the same, however, in Whitney's clear, fine script.
Dear Troy,
I've tried to write this four times so far, and each time, there's too many tears on the paper to make it readable, so I'm praying that I can get through it this time. It's about three in the afternoon, and right about now, you're leaving your last class to head over to the stadium to get ready for Northern.
Troy, I have to leave. I've always had a desire to study abroad, and a few weeks ago, an offer dropped into my lap that I can't refuse. I thought about it long and hard, which is why for the past few weeks, I've been so off.
You see, Troy, the problem is, when I started this year, I knew about the chance for the program, but I didn't worry about it. I only had Dani as a true friend, and I was willing to give that up for this program, have just a long distance friendship for a while. I never expected to date you, and then more importantly, to fall in love with you. And yes, I love you with all my heart.
Which is why I have to let you go. I can't do the program and be your girlfriend. The time difference is too much, and the miles are too many. I can't rob you of your future, and I know where that is. I wish there were another way. I wish I could dance with you at the prom, or kiss you on Valentine's Day, or yes, make love with you again. I wish we could do all those things, but we can't. It's not fair to me, but more importantly, it's not fair to you.
I'm leaving this note with Dani because I know she'll deliver it to you. Please, don't try to follow up, don't try to figure out where I went. Let's just chop it off clean here before I ruin your life. If fate should bring us together again . . . I don't know. I just know one thing.
I will always love you, Troy. Please believe that.
Whitney
I read the letter twice, not believing the words, and I drop to my knees, the paper tumbling from my numb fingers. "But . . . why?"
Dani shakes her head, and now both of us are crying, sobbing in a heap in the middle of the SLHS logo painted on the grass. "She handed it to me before the game, right after she talked to you," Dani sobs, holding my head to hers. "She gave me a copy, and told me that she was leaving right then. I tried to get her to stay, but she shook her head. 'I don't need to see the game,' she said. 'Troy's going to win, I know it.' And then she was gone."
"How long?" I ask, desperation in my heart. "How long?"
"Troy . . . it's been three hours," Dani says, sobbing again. "I kept hoping she'd come back, that it was all some joke or something, but . . . she's gone."
I stood there, in a stake of shock for a minute.
“NO!" I yell, pushing Dani away and getting to my feet. Leaving my helmet behind, I sprint to the locker room, ripping my shoulder pads off to get my wallet and keys. Fuck the pants and cleats. There has to be a chance. I drive like a madman, running a red light to get to Whitney's house. Screeching to a halt outside, I run up to the door and begin pounding on the door. "Whitney! Whitney! Open the door! Tell me it was a prank!"
The door opens, and Ms. Nelson stands there, ice cold and uninviting. "She left on the bus an hour ago, Troy. She's not coming back."
"Please, Ms. Nelson. I need to talk to her again—tell me where she went. Tell me how to get in contact with her."
Ms. Nelson shakes her head, still cold. "I promised her I wouldn't. Goodbye, Troy. Please leave before you cause any further hurt.”
She closes the door in my face, and I step back, dropping to my knees in the grass again and sobbing. I won my dream and lost my heart, all in the same night.
Chapter 11
Whitney
November 27
Dear Dani,