Enlightened

by Charlotte Michelle

  And that is definitely not me. I promised my father and God that I would not have sex until I found the right man and I was one hundred percent sure I was going to spend the rest of my life with him. Preferably after I am married.

  So if Dallas does end up wanting to date me, his interest will be short-lived when he finds out he can’t gain what I can’t give.

  I gnaw on my bottom lip when Mr. Hass slides my test onto my desk. My stomach churns as I grab it and flip it over. I can’t help but feel the urge to throw up as I take in the large red C- on the paper. I look over at Anne, who frowns, shaking her head.

  It is surprising to both of us. I never do this bad on tests. Heck, I tutored Kyle mainly in mathematics and I just failed a test?

  I take a deep breath and remind myself that one bad test isn’t going drop my grade. I have a high A in the class, and if anything, it’ll drop to a low A.

  No big deal…

  “Are you sitting with Dallas and his friends today for lunch?” Anne asks, bringing me from my thoughts. I look at her again and nod.

  “Yes. And so are you.”

  Anne’s protest is cut off by Mr. Hass beginning the lesson.

  I have Anne’s slender wrist in a vise grip as I drag her toward Dallas’s table. He had invited me again during Psychology, and I told him I would if Anne was allowed as well.

  Dallas said he didn’t mind; there was plenty of room.

  Anne digs her heels into the tile of the cafeteria floor, causing me to turn, grasp her arm in both my hands, and pull her along until her Converses slide. “No. No. Noooo.” She shakes her head wildly, her eyes wide. I stifle a laugh as we near the table.

  “I still think Daryl would win,” I hear someone say. My ears perk at the sound of my favorite Walking Dead character. I release Anne and turn to see Tyler delivering an excellent argument.

  “You’re so daft. Aragorn would win! We’ve been through this!” Mikey growls at his friend.

  Dallas has his back to me right now, so I can’t see if he’s finding this argument amusing or annoying. Tyler is directly across from Dallas, and his expression is desperate and determined. Mikey is at Tyler’s left. He’s frustrated.

  “Fine. What about Ragnar against Aragorn? Who then?” Tyler counters, arching an eyebrow.

  I approach the table, coming up beside Dallas’s right so I’m across from Mikey. “Ragnar would win,” I answer, sinking beside Dallas. He looks over at me, his light blue eyes meeting my dark hazel ones. He smiles.

  “Agreed,” Dallas says.

  I look over at Mikey and Tyler hesitantly. Are they okay with me sitting here with them? Do they think it’s weird? I think it’s kind of weird.

  “Boom!” Tyler exclaims, slapping his hands to his chest once before he throws his arms open in victory. That was what he did every time he made a basket in basketball. I smirk when he looks over and sends me a wink. “The girl has spoken.”

  I can’t help but wonder if Tyler doesn’t know my name but shrug it off. It’s not a big deal if he doesn’t.

  “What does she know about Aragorn and Ragnar?” Mikey asks, leaning forward on the table in challenge.

  Ha. He thinks I just read romance novels, doesn’t he?

  “Aragorn is Dúnedain. He is the only heir to Isildur and the rightful king of Gondor. He’s selfless and strong enough to pass the Ring’s test. Ragnar is a Viking who rose from farmer to earl to king by his own determination. He invaded Paris and somehow returned home alive. Ragnar Lothbrok would most definitely win,” I say, throwing out small facts to prove that I do indeed watch my movies and TV shows.

  I’m not some measly little bookworm.

  “Ragnar is also the hottest man known to women.” I look over my shoulder at Anne, who walks over to sit beside me. I chuckle, a large smile on my face.

  Mikey’s eyes meet her instantly, and I see something flicker across his face. Interest? “Oh yeah? Clearly you haven’t gotten a good look at me,” Mikey says, leaning back to motion toward his body.

  I let out a snort and quickly place a hand over my mouth in an attempt to cover it up. Mikey flashes me a glare.

  “Just because Dallas has you dazed by his charm does not mean he’s the hottest man in this room. It’s just his talent, being able to fool every girl into falling in love with him,” Mikey comments. I arch an eyebrow.

  Even though they’re best friends, it’s obvious Mikey is envious of Dallas.

  Tyler lets out a low whistle, and I look over to see Dallas shooting daggers at Mikey. “You’re full of shit,” Dallas grinds out, running a hand through his hair. “I never trick girls into doing anything. They know what they sign up for. They come to me willingly. I don’t hypnotize them.”

  I am taken back by Dallas’s words. Yes, I always knew the routine with Dallas and his girls. They are typically on his arm for a good week before he takes a break and finds someone else. But to hear him talk about how they are basically an object to him is a major letdown. This is not the Dallas who was talking to me in Psychology the last two days.

  “No. You’re full of shit! When will you learn that this lifestyle will get you nowhere? That even though you’re banging the hottest chick in school, you’re still going to only be a student who is half as good as his father in basketball. You don’t have a chance at the NBA. Time to dream a little smaller, Dally.” Mikey is blowing me away, too. Aren’t they best friends?

  I feel sick to my stomach as I want to leave this situation pronto.

  “Yeah? Well, at least I’m guaranteed a future! You’re just a mediocre shooting guard with grades that rival an illiterate moron.” Mikey stands to his feet so fast it makes me gasp.

  “What are you doing with her? You hated her. And now you want to be friends? You listen here. She’s not another one of your girls. You leave Kayla the hell out of your messed-up life, understood?” Mikey snaps, his eyes brutal as he points a finger at me.

  What? Why is he protecting me?

  “Oh, you’d like to know what I’m doing with her, wouldn’t you?” Excuse me? I look over at Dallas in alarm and open my mouth to put a word in; however, he only glares at Mikey.

  Then, very slowly, a smile inches across Dallas’s face. I jerk my head back to Mikey to see him grinning like an idiot before he barks out in laughter.

  What is going on?

  “Explain,” I say, looking over at Dallas, who is chuckling as well. I snap my head to Anne, who shares the same mask of horror.

  “Welcome to the Idiot Table,” Tyler mumbles, causing my eyes to transfix on him.

  “That was some sort of initiation?” I proclaim, completely baffled. Dallas continues to laugh as Mikey takes his seat, his face turning red from lack of oxygen.

  “You should have seen your face!” Mikey gasps out, letting out a coughing laugh again. Even though their laughter is infectious and I want to join in, I’m still hung up on the fact that they just pulled a prank on us.

  Dallas reaches over to grab my hand and my attention. “You looked like you were about to run for the hills.” He breaks out into another fit of laughter, and I yank my hand away, glaring at Tyler, who is just smirking at the two idiots.

  “It wasn’t funny,” I mutter, crossing my arms as if I’m a toddler throwing a fit.

  When the laughter finally calms down, I grab a handful of grapes from my homemade lunch and toss them in my mouth, munching silently as everyone returns to their food. There is small talk between Tyler, Mikey, Dallas, and sometimes even Anne. I keep quiet, embarrassed that the two goons were able to pull that on me.

  I watch as Dallas interacts with his friends, and I’m glad his loss is finally lifting off his shoulders. He deserves to be happy. Kyle would want him to be happy.

  The thought of Kyle reminds me that I wanted to ask Dallas something. “Dallas,” I say quietly.

  He turns his attention away from the group and looks at me. “Hmm?”

  “Kyle thought I’m a great basketball player. And clearly, you’re not
too bad yourself. So I was wondering if you wanted to settle this Thursday night? You know, see who’s the best?” I ask, a smirk forming on my lips.

  Dallas’s eyes brighten with mischief before a melancholy expression adorns his features. What did I say?

  “What’s Thursday?” he asks.

  “October first. Why?” The table grows quiet, and I look over to see Tyler and Mikey frowning, a glum look on both their faces.

  One would think I just killed their goldfishes.

  “Kyle’s birthday,” Dallas mutters.

  Gah. I’m an idiot. How could I forget that?

  I gnaw on my bottom lip. “Dallas…” I begin to apologize, but he shakes his head, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

  “He’d want us to play,” he says. My heart flutters softly with hope. I know Kyle would want us to play, but the fact that Dallas is realizing this is huge. “Thursday at seven.”

  And it is set.

  Even though we, or should I say I, invited Tyler and Mikey to join us, they kindly refused. It was something that had to be done between the two of us.

  It will be the first time either of us has played on the courts since September twelfth. Perhaps it’s best we’re doing this together.

  I dressed up in green spandex shorts and a loose t-shirt, something easy to move around in. I’m wearing Nike basketball shoes as well with my hair sitting up in a high ponytail. Dallas arrives wearing black basketball shorts and a black t-shirt. He’s also wearing Nike basketball shoes.

  We’re the real deal. He tosses me a water bottle, and I gladly take a swig before setting it on the edge of the court. He tosses me a smirk, and I notice his hair is shorter.

  “Can’t focus if my hair is flapping around in my eyes,” he explains when I ask him about it. He cut it so we could play tonight. I try to contain my butterflies in my stomach.

  Once we are ready to play, we line up at center circle, where Dallas checks the ball to me. I check it back, and we begin playing.

  I always knew Dallas was a great player. I made him promise not to go easy on me, and he kept to his word. It’s a workout to keep up with him, but I hold my own pretty well.

  We are neck and neck the whole game.

  Dallas is great at three-pointers. He’s excellent at it, actually. It’s what gets me every time. I’m primarily talented at lay-ups and two-pointers. But those are easier to deflect.

  I don’t allow myself to get frustrated, even when Dallas grabs the ball in the air and throws it to the ground, interfering with my two-pointer. He lets out a grunt and pounds his chest as I glare harshly at him.

  He shoots me a wink, and I try to remember it’s all for fun. I don’t care if he beats me. I’m just happy to see him play again.

  “Not cool, bro. You need to let Kayla score every now and then,” I hear from behind me. I tense, my eyes finding Dallas as I desperately seek an explanation.

  But he doesn’t look at me; his eyes are transfixed behind me, wide with awe and disbelief. He stumbles back a step as he shakes his head, tears brimming his eyes.

  Oh my.

  I spin around and let out a sharp gasp as my eyes meet bright blue ones, staring up at me from five feet away. The smile plastered on his face is wide and all so recognizable. Chills run up my spine, and even though I’m all sweaty from playing basketball, I suddenly feel cold.

  I stagger to stand beside Dallas, grabbing his arm. He doesn’t seem to register me as he continues to stare at the boy.

  “What? Don’t let me interrupt. I’ve been waiting for this to happen for a long time,” the boy says. That voice. I close my eyes as I feel a tear roll down my left cheek.

  It couldn’t be possible that he’s standing here, wearing dark jeans and a red t-shirt. His light brown hair is gelled up, revealing his smooth forehead. His freckles are noticeable even in the dark. But when Dallas breathes one single word to prove that we are in fact seeing the same person, all rationality seems to leave my mind.

  “Kyle.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ghost

  *Dallas*

  October 1, 2015

  “What? Don’t let me interrupt. I’ve been waiting for this to happen for a long time.” My body is covered in goosebumps as I stare at the impossible.

  I can feel Kayla’s hand resting on my arm, holding tight as she slightly leans into me. She is in complete shock, just as I am.

  How is this even possible?

  I held him in my arms as he took his final breath. I saw the paramedics place his limp body on a gurney and wheel him away. Was he never dead? Was he alive this whole time, somewhere secret, and only now revealing he never died?

  The uncontrollable urge to run forward and hug him is tugging at my muscles. If it wasn’t for Kayla holding onto me, I would. But all I do is continue to stare.

  Then the boy who resembles Kyle to a tee arches an eyebrow. “Go on. Show her how the Perkins boys don’t lose to girls,” he says.

  My stomach flips at his words. Those are the words I said to Kayla in the cafeteria after I blamed her for Kyle’s…death. I gulp, finally tearing my eyes off Kyle to look at Kayla.

  She has a slight shake to her as her eyes focus on Kyle. Her grip is now tighter than before, and I realize she noticed the familiarity of the words spoken.

  “How?” Her soft voice finally questions what has been on my mind. I return my attention to Kyle, who crosses his arms over his chest.

  “What do you mean how? It’s my birthday. Dallas and I always come here on my birthday. I just didn’t expect to see you here.” He points at Kayla, and I arch an eyebrow.

  What does that even mean? He’s speaking as if he’s alive.

  Is he alive?

  No. I saw his body in that oak coffin. I saw him lowered to the ground where they piled dirt over him.

  Whatever is happening right now, it isn’t real.

  Then how is Kayla seeing the same thing you are?

  “But…but how are you here? How did you get here?” Kayla asks, bringing me back from my thoughts. I notice she’s no longer holding onto me. She has taken a step forward, her head tilted to the side.

  Kyle’s brows furrow, and his eyes are downcast to the ground. I can nearly see the cogs in his brain turning as he tries to produce an answer.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember,” he says.

  My heart is heavy, and my head is light. I feel as if I am about to faint.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” Kayla asks, her voice so soft and gentle, as if she is talking to a wounded animal, soothing it.

  “We were playing basketball. I beat you.” Kyle’s eyes are on me, and my breathing begins to pick up. “But that was the twelfth. Today is October first. How is that possible?” Kyle questions.

  I close my eyes, trying to calm myself as millions of questions swim around in my mind. Perhaps this is all a dream. I’m lying in my bed right now and dreaming. I will wake up, and everything will return to normal.

  Kyle will be dead.

  Because he is dead.

  “Dallas.” My eyes snap open, and I meet dark hazel. “What’s going on?” Kayla’s voice is shaky, and I wish I had the answer to her question.

  I only shake my head. “I don’t know,” I whisper, tilting my head to gaze at Kyle from over her shoulder. “Do you remember anything else?” I ask him.

  Kyle shrugs his shoulders as he kicks a rock. My eyes widen when it moves across the court.

  Dead people can’t kick rocks.

  “We were walking home. I was replaying the moves I pulled on you. You screamed my name and then…” Kyle lifts his head to look me straight in the eyes. My body stiffens as goosebumps cover my arms. “Cold. Everything went cold.”

  I bite my bottom lip as I watch Kyle’s expressions. I can practically see the scene running over and over again in his mind. He’s trying to make sense of everything that happened, and when the look of fear settles on his features, I know he understands. “I’m dead.”

&nbs
p; His words are a pang to my chest. I choke back a sob as I nod my head.

  There are no words to describe the pain I’m feeling, telling my kid brother that he’s dead. There are no words because this is unheard of. There is no talking to the dead. There is no having conversations with the deceased. One moment you’re playing basketball and the next everything is silent, and all the things you wish you could have said are weighing heavy on the heart.

  “I was shot,” Kyle says.

  “Yes,” Kayla whispers softly, taking another step toward him. Kyle quickly steps back and shakes his head, eyes wide and watery with tears.

  “I don’t understand. How am I here? How am I dead?” His voice trembles, and it takes everything in me to not break down crying in front of him.

  However, Kayla doesn’t fight her feelings. I hear a sob escape her lips as she shakes her head. “I don’t know, Kyle. Perhaps it’s to say goodbye.” Kayla looks over her shoulder at me. “Perhaps it’s our chance to say all the things we wish we could have said,” she whispers.

  My eyes return to Kyle, and he’s staring right back at me. “Dallas. I’m scared.” His voice is small. Kyle is never scared. He’s tough and brave. But right now, he’s frightened, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  Because he’s dead.

  He’s already dead.

  Kyle walks toward me, his arms slightly opening as he goes to embrace me in a hug. I shiver as his arms wrap around my shoulders, a ghostly presence that is both felt and absent. He clings to me, and as I wrap my arms around him, it’s almost as if I’m hugging air; however, I feel a soft resistance that signifies where he is.

  When he steps back, he looks over at Kayla again. “I knew you’d be friends,” he says, brushing away his tears. Kayla smiles softly at him.

  “I should have listened to you,” I whisper.

  “Yes. You should have.” It grows silent after that, and Kayla and I are both left staring at Kyle.

  He seems to drift from the present and into thought as he stares at the letters I carved into the asphalt. A ghost of a smile is on his lips as he reads it.