by LJ Evans
All that male testosterone on display. Gag. But I went. I didn’t hold up a sign like he did at my meets. And Matt never complained about it or said anything negative. It was like he was just happy to be along for the ride. And I realized that’s what Wynn must have felt about Zack.
She said it wasn’t. She said she loved Zack and as soon as she could, she was going to find a way to move to New Orleans and be with him, but I knew that she’d move on. Maybe that’s what everyone thought had happened with me and my feelings for you, because my mama and your mama didn’t seem to watch us so closely anymore.
They were relieved my crush had gone away.
But it hadn’t. Every time I kissed Matt, I wanted it to be you. I wanted to open my eyes and not see his gentle green ones but the intense kaleidoscope of yours. I’m sure Matt sensed it. I tried hard not to let him realize he was second fiddle, but Matt wasn’t stupid. A goofball sometimes, but definitely not stupid.
I tried not to stare at you when you were head to head with Amber, talking all hush-hush about plans for the weekend. But sometimes when I’d look up from staring at you, I’d see Matt staring at me, and I’d wonder how long it would last. How long he would put up with it.
And sometimes, I wondered if it bothered you at all. To see me engaged in my own little bit of tonsil hockey with Matt. Once in a great while, when Matt would kiss me goodbye and you were there and I turned to you, you’d have an odd look on your face, but it was never the deep, lake-green angry look in your eyes. It was a wary, thoughtful look.
♫ ♫ ♫
Matt and I did have fun. It wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy being with him. I got to go with a date to school dances, and I actually laughed my ass off through the whole thing because Matt was such a goofball and could make me laugh by doing the silliest things, like the Robot or the old-fashioned Mashed Potato. Always done poorly, but with much enthusiasm.
And we always went to funny movies. Never girly dramas or stupid shoot-'em-up action movies that were your favorite. So, I got to laugh a lot. And that was good. Laughter fills your soul, right?
But as the school year went on, after football was over, and the scouts had all been on your doorstep. After you’d made an informal pledge to the University of Tennessee, I started to panic. I literally started having panic attacks. I’d be perfectly fine one moment, and then the next, I was shaking so hard that I couldn’t breathe. And the lack of breath would cause my vision to go spotty and my head to spin.
The day you got your official letter from UTK, I actually passed out. I know you never knew that. It would have been extremely embarrassing for me to have told you. I’d left your house to go home for dinner. Matt was walking with me. He was having dinner at my house, like he did a lot. My parents liked him. Who wouldn’t? He was a parent’s dream. Polite. Good to me. Never pushy.
Anyway, I was still reeling from your acceptance as I walked and, all of a sudden my eyes went all spotty, and just like that, I passed out. Matt caught me before I could go headfirst down the steps. When I came back around after the split second of darkness, he’d sat me down on the steps and pushed my head between my legs so that I’d get some air back into me. We sat there for a few moments before he spoke.
“You knew he was leaving,” Matt said to me gently.
All I could do was nod from my bent over position, gasping for air.
“You’ll be okay without him, you know.” My head bounced up quicker than a horse flicks a fly with its tail, and looked into Matt’s face, and I saw the writing on the wall.
“You’re Super Girl,” he said with a gentle smile and pushed back a strand of hair from my face.
“I’m sorry,” I said to him.
“Me too,” he said quietly.
“Why are you sorry?” I said in bewilderment.
“Because I knew that first day of school when you kissed me exactly why you did it.”
I think my mouth probably hit the ground. I couldn’t help it. I had just assumed he’d been oblivious to the whole thing that day. Sure, he’d realized some things over our six months together, but I didn’t think he’d known that day.
Matt laughed, like he always did. At himself. At others. At life. “But it was one hell of a kiss.”
I grinned like crazy at him.
“It was my first ever.”
“Really?” His turn to be shocked. “Anyway, kissing you like that, for any reason, was sure worth it.”
I nudged him in embarrassment.
“So, this is it, I guess?” I asked quietly.
“Probably. The horse is out of the barn, so to speak.”
And just like that, I didn’t have a boyfriend anymore.
Change
“And I’ll do anything to see it through
Because these things will change.”
- Taylor Swift
So Matt was gone. And I was back to same old, same old. Me tagging along with you and a girlfriend. I was a little sick of it. But somewhere inside of me, I just knew these things had to change. That there would come a time when those itty-bitty three years separating us would disappear and fall away just like Coach had predicted.
Wynn thought I was insane for giving up Matt. And in truth, I was. But as I’ve said before, I already knew I was insane. From the very first time when I was little, sitting on your porch and drawing your hand into my sticky one so that you’d take your eyes off the boys playing football, to the time I’d pulled Matt into that kiss just to see your reaction. I’d been crazy my entire life over a boy who still wouldn’t even register the fact that I was anything more than the next-door neighbor kid that tagged along with him no matter what.
I told Wynn she should go after Matt herself, but she was too loyal for that. I think she thought about it. Her obsession with Zack had faded, and she was looking around campus at the other cute boys, and Matt was definitely one of the cutest. But somehow, that Southern honor got the better of her. Later, after she had her own trauma, I’d wished she’d taken my advice and picked Matt. But I’ll stayed focus on this story for now.
After Matt and I broke up, my parents, you, and Amber were all worried that I’d go off the edge into a great depression or something. It was kind of ridiculous because when had I ever gone over the edge crying about a boy? Well… other than you. But it was kind of sweet, and I loved that you became especially worried when I wouldn’t tell you why we broke up. You threatened to beat the crap out of him if he’d been forcing himself on me, and I just laughed like hell because wasn’t it really the other way around? We’d started it all by me forcing myself on him.
But you were all watching me like you thought I was going to suddenly fall off the edge. And the truth was, I did feel like I was falling off a cliff, but it wasn’t because of Matt. It was because of you. I had started counting down days. Days until you left. Days left with you. I was trying every day just to breathe. Trying not to get lost in the terror that was the thought of not seeing you at the end of almost every single day.
But somewhere near spring break, a new fear entered me. You were having a lot more of your “incidents” again. You liked to brush them aside just like you had before your eighth-grade year, before I’d gotten you to go to the doctor by agreeing to dive with Coach. I started carrying stuff with me again. I even raided your needles and insulin to keep a spare in my bag. I could have gotten in a lot of trouble at school if I was caught with them, but when had I ever cared about a little trouble? Especially when it was related to you.
♫ ♫ ♫
One day, that weird connection between us, the one that had brought you running the day I nearly fell off the ladder by the tree house, made you look at me on the cliff, and made me run down the bleachers before you’d been knocked out, came back into play. I always walked a certain way to my fifth period class. It was a way that avoided both you and Matt, killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. Not that Matt had been anything but nice, but I felt awkward around
him at the moment.
So, Wynn couldn’t understand it when I insisted that we go the way that would guarantee I’d hit both of you in one fell swoop. But something inside me was just begging me to take that hallway. So, we did.
That’s when we saw the crowd. A crowd in high school usually means a fight, right? But this time, I saw Mr. Reed, the moron, standing nearby wringing his hands. My heart fell. I just knew it was you. How? How, you ask? I can’t answer it. The same way you knew that I needed you that day on the ladder.
I ran forward, elbowing my way to the front of the crowd, and there you were. On the floor, shaking, babbling. Everyone was looking a little aghast at the football god having a seizure or something. Thank God I had my supplies. I grabbed one of the sugar tabs from my backpack and placed it under your tongue and then cracked open a Gatorade, getting it ready. I had your head in my lap, and even though I was shaking a little, I was crooning at you to drink it. I forced the drink into your mouth, and you gagged, but swallowed.
Mr. Reed stepped forward as if I was trying to kill you. I looked up at him with hate in my eyes. “Call 911, stupid, he’s having a diabetic seizure.”
“The office has already called,” he said, ignoring my name calling.
I returned my focus to you. “Jake, Jake, come on. Drink a little more for me,” I soothed, trying so hard not to panic. You’d never been this bad. Never. Dizzy, blurry, a little stumbly, but you’d never passed out shaking with eyes rolling back.
I heard the siren. Heard Mr. Leonard clearing the crowd as he came from the office, but I still wouldn’t let you go. Eventually, the paramedics made their way to us. They took one look at me with the drink and you with dribbles down your chin and quickly determined what had happened.
“Diabetic. How long?” they asked me.
“Four years,” I said.
They were pulling out an IV and finding a place to stick the line while talking with me.
“Ever had a seizure before?”
“No. Some lows. More lately,” I told them honestly, not caring if you got mad at me later, only caring about having these two men save you.
“Okay, miss. You can let him go. We’re going to put him on the gurney now.”
I wouldn’t let you go. I still had the Gatorade at ready, your head in my lap. They were trying to take it all away. They were forcing my hands from around you.
“Miss. I promise you, we’re going to take care of him.”
I let them take you from me, but as soon as they had you on the stretcher, I had your hand again. No one even prevented me. Not the paramedics. Not Mr. Leonard, or even Mr. Reed whom I’d insulted.
As we were rushing through the corridor with them pushing you and me jogging alongside, I saw Amber, her eyes wide, frozen in the doorway of the classroom near where we had been, and somewhere it registered in my mind that she must have been there for a while and not known what to do. I was disgusted, but I didn’t let it sidestep me from tagging along with you.
No one stopped me from getting into the ambulance with you. I wonder about that now. Most of the time, they only let family go. Sometimes not even that. A lot of times, they make the family trail the ambulance. Maybe it was because we were both so young or maybe they assumed I was your sister because there was still such a gap in our ages. I don’t know, but I am grateful they let me go because if I’d had to stay back at the school, I think I would have had to have an ambulance come back for me. But being there with you, having to be strong for you, made me stronger.
When we got to the hospital, I had to let you go for real. The doctors and nurses weren’t as nice as the paramedics had been. They simply forced me to stay outside the swinging doors of the ER. I stood there like I was in one of those hospital dramas, staring at the doors.
Your parents and my parents came through the automatic doors a few minutes later. The school must have called them. My mama had me in her arms, and Marina and Scott were asking me what had happened.
I don’t even remember what I said. I must have said enough that they knew the gist of it and went off to find a doctor or nurse. My mama had me sit down. My daddy paced in front of me. It seemed like hours went by. I’m sure it wasn’t anywhere near that long. Eventually your parents came back, and they had a look of relief on their faces that told me everything I needed to know.
“He’s fine. Awake. Angry as hell. Already trying to pull the IVs out. Come on. They say we can see him.”
They led us to the room they’d placed you in. And as soon as I saw you, I ran over and hugged you. My head on your chest the best way I could get to you in the hospital bed. You put a hand on my hair.
“Cami, I’m okay.” Your voice sounded tired. But I knew you were telling the truth. Like we always knew that about each other. Except later, when you wouldn’t tell me anything at all so that I wouldn’t know you were lying. But that’s later again.
At that point, I didn’t move, not right away. I hugged you for a good ten or fifteen minutes before the side of the hospital bed pushing into me caused me enough pain to register in my thick skull, and I let you go reluctantly.
Marina was on the other side of you, and as I lifted my head, she smiled at me.
“Okay, now will someone please get me the hell out of here?” you grumbled.
“Not so quick, young man,” your daddy said. “Doc Wilson is on his way. He wants to evaluate you and maybe keep you overnight to run some more tests.”
“No,” you said fiercely. “I have that meeting tomorrow with UTK.”
But Marina and Scott could be as stubborn as you, and they said they’d simply reschedule it. This set off an argument about you not wanting to worry the coaches at Tennessee that you couldn’t deliver what you’d signed up to deliver, and them saying it was part of life and that if Tennessee gave you up because of this, then it was their loss.
In the end, you won. Sort of. But then, you and I had always had a way of getting what we wanted with our parents. Especially if we worked together. We’d break them like glue that had been iced. I dove in and sided with you, and they couldn’t fight both of us. You agreed to see Doc Wilson and stay for the eval as long as you were released by ten the next morning, in plenty of time to meet with UTK.
After, when you were smiling again, relief washed over me because I knew you were back to yourself. You were being stubborn and were getting your way with your smooth talking. With the relief came fatigue. I was suddenly so, so tired. Probably because I hadn’t been breathing very well for several hours and lack of oxygen can be very exhausting.
My mama saw me drooping. “I think we’ll just take Camdyn home now.” And as much as I wanted to refuse, I knew that it was okay. You were safe. You were in good hands, and I needed to get myself together.
“I’ll walk you out,” Marina said.
We walked in silence to my parents’ car. Marina hugged me. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“I…I thought I was too late,” I told her honestly, tears springing from my eyes.
“You weren’t. You were there. Like you always are,” she said and squeezed me again before letting me go and watching me get into my parents’ car.
But honestly, I was terrified. Because, in a little over two months, you were going away, and who would be there then?
♫ ♫ ♫
When you came home, not much was said about the doctor and your sugar levels. But you were watching them a lot more, and so I was watching you a lot more. I was almost afraid to let you out of my sight, even during class. Any thought I had of recruiting Amber to help went out the door because when you came back to school, Amber broke up with you. She said that it was too hard to be with someone that she had to worry about constantly, and that you would have had to break up anyway with her going to Brown and you going to the University of Tennessee.
Even though I’d liked Amber, I suddenly didn’t. How could she say that to you? How could she walk out on you just like that? But
you said it was an amicable break up. You were still going to senior prom together. Still going to be friends, but it was time for you both to move on.
You didn’t seem upset. That was strange to me. Strange that you just took it in stride like you’d taken Kayla and Brittney, even though you’d dated Amber the longest. Even though I knew for sure you’d slept with her. But maybe it was because you’d already let her go in your mind, too, just like you’d let the others go. You’d already seen the writing on the wall. Or maybe it was because, like me, you hadn’t been able to get overly attached to anyone. That gave me hope. Hope that also scared me because I hadn’t hoped in quite a while.
♫ ♫ ♫
We fell back into an old, long forgotten habit of coming home from school together, just the two of us. Sometimes we’d pick Mia up at the middle school. But a lot of the time, it was just the two of us.
We’d ride in silence, listening to our private mixed-up playlist of country, alternative rock, blues, and classic rock. It was always a comfortable silence. But one that seemed bittersweet too, like we both knew it was the last of the days.
One day, we were lying on your bed studying for finals, and you’d just taken a sugar reading and placed it back on the nightstand when you stopped me dead with a confession. You weren’t big on confessions. Or weakness.
“I’m scared, Cam.”
I rolled over onto my side, propped my head on my hand, and waited, watching you. You wouldn’t look at me right away.
“I’m scared that I won’t be able to control this anymore. That it’ll ruin my football scholarship.”
“There’s more to life than football,” I said, speaking the deadliest sin a Southern girl could ever say. Saying the words that Blake had said to me not many years ago. You raised your eyes to me enough to roll them in my direction, saying “stupid girl” without words.
“And your parents would pay for you to go to school,” I continued.
You nodded. You knew I was right, but I also knew that you were feeling out of control. A feeling you hardly ever encountered. A feeling you would never like. The football god, who could will everything to go his way, wasn’t sure what to do with something that didn’t bend to that will.