by LJ Evans
♫ ♫ ♫
I didn’t see you again until you came home for spring break. But this time, you came with baggage. You came with Kate. You said that the two of you were just friends, and that her parents traveled a lot working for the government, I read into that that they were CIA spies. And I hated her. More ferociously than I’d ever hated Kayla or Brittney. Kate was dangerous. Because she was smart, beautiful, connected, and miles more mature than I was. The only good thing about her was that she wasn’t scared away by your diabetes like Amber had been. She was often the one asking you if you knew what your levels were. She wanted to be a doctor, so I guess it was understandable, but I knew better.
Truth was, you may have just been friends with her, but I knew she had her claws dug in deep. And I knew you’d told her about me by the way she watched me. Especially when I was around you. But we’d gone back to our easy, kidding around selves the best we could. You weren’t holding me by the waist and kissing my neck.
This, of course, made our parents happy. I think they were secretly hoping that we’d gotten whatever had been there between us out of our system. So, I’d smile and tease and be my old Jake sidekick. But inside, I felt like all the old stab wounds to my heart had been kicked open and were slowly bleeding.
It was awful. And I think it was then that I realized that when you hadn’t come home at Thanksgiving or my birthday, it had been as much for me as it was for you. It was almost easier to have you gone than to have you there. Just like I was almost glad when you left. Almost.
♫ ♫ ♫
When school ended, I was deep into dive season. And I was doing really well. You didn’t come home. That seemed to be the new status quo. You took on a summer resident advisor (RA) job in the dorms in preparation for being an RA in the fall. How they chose you to be an RA when you’d be on the football field most of the time, I don’t know. But you were always a smooth talker. So, you probably had smooth-talked some woman interviewer into it.
In June, I competed at regionals and made it to zones. I was happy, for the time I was in the air and in the water at least. In those moments, all I had to worry about was the feel of the air around me as I twisted and flipped and landed in the coolness of the water. The dolphin at work. And that’s what I did my best to focus on — the moves, the air, the water.
We had to travel to zones. My parents allowed me to bring Wynn. It was fun to have someone in the stands to cheer me on like you used to. You still cheered me on. But a text and voicemail weren’t the same thing.
I felt like our worlds really were far apart these days.
Dear John
“Wonderin’ which version of you,
I might get on the phone, tonight.”
- Taylor Swift
To everyone and anyone, I swore I was fine. I tried not to have my life revolve around thoughts of you. I did. I swear to God, I did. I remember when my mom said that I was too young for all the emotions that came with sleeping with someone. And yet, I felt just as tied to you as if we had gone that far. And sometimes. Sometimes I did feel too young to love you like I did. Do. Sometimes… sometimes I wished it would go away. I can’t believe I can even say that now. But they were just brief moments. Seconds. Nanoseconds really.
A happy, or unhappy, coincidence came when the Junior National Dive Championships were announced. They were to be held in Knoxville. How the gods decided to grant me that one, I’ll never know, but my parents booked a hotel for the five days. And for the first time in a very long time, you were in and out of my meets. You had to twist it around your own schedule, but you were there when I made it to the final round.
The sad thing was that you usually brought Kate with you. You did it to be safe. To put a barrier between us. Afraid the cotton wall would disappear. Kate was always confident and happy about being there. About being included. She’d put her hand through your arm and cling to you like a puppy to a rawhide bone. I felt like I’d been through all this before. Seemed like we’d gone back three years instead of forward.
Because you hadn’t seen my dives all year, I was determined not to let Kate being there ruin it for me. I wanted to show off for you. I wanted you to see me dive as you’d never seen me dive before. I was on the young end of my new age group of 16 to 18-year-olds. But it didn’t matter. I’d been doing this a long time. I wanted to be your beautiful dolphin.
When I came out of the water after my last dive, you were there on the side of the pool, and you hugged me so tight. You didn’t care that I was dripping wet, and that I was ruining whatever clothes you had on. You whispered, “I’m so proud of you,” in my ear and it sent shivers of delight through my body. It was all I cared about.
I didn’t make it to the top six. I was one spot away from the alternates. But the girls who made it were older than me. More experienced at zones and nationals. I was thrilled that I’d made it that far. Probably helped that even though I usually didn’t care about competitions that way, lately, all I’d wanted to do was dive because it helped me forget for a few hours.
My parents took us out to dinner that night. Our last night in Knoxville, and Kate couldn’t come. Darn. She had to go do some sorority thing. I couldn’t believe you were dating a sorority girl. And I razzed you about it when my parents had gone back to the room, and we were sitting poolside in the Tennessee humidity.
“Dating?” You look truly puzzled.
“Puh-lease!” I said with disgust.
“Really. She’s just a good friend.”
“With benefits?”
You at least had the decency to look a little chagrinned.
“She thinks she’s your girlfriend.”
“No,” you said with vehemence.
“You really are still an idiot when it comes to girls.”
And that’s when you pushed me into the pool. But I was quick, and caught your t-shirt as I went over, and you ended up coming in as well.
We came up spluttering and laughing.
“Idiot!” I called and took off for the other end of the pool as fast as I could with my summer dress tugging at me and my sandals weighing me down. You caught up to me faster than I thought you would. I hadn’t been able to race you in over a year, and you’d been working out tons with the football team.
You pulled at my dress and caught me back to you, and when I turned around laughing, you kissed me. It was the first kiss we’d shared in over a year. But it felt just like it always had. Hot and zingy. Just like I’d come home.
I reached up and wrapped my hands behind your neck and tugged at the hair at the nape of your neck. It was long. Longer than you usually wore it. I moved myself tight against your body. All my nerve endings came painfully awake as if they’d been hibernating, waiting for you to reclaim them.
When we came up for air, you looked angry and disgusted.
“I am an idiot,” you said. And I laughed.
You lifted me up onto the side of the pool effortlessly, and then pulled yourself up beside me but a little bit away, and you stretched out on the cement in the heavy night air instead of continuing where we’d left off in the water. You didn’t look at me. You looked up into the sky. I drank you in and eventually came to the realization that you weren’t going to continue kissing me, so I just lay down next to you.
“I’m sorry I kissed you, Cam.”
“Don’t be. It reminds me what kissing is supposed to be like.”
You laughed. “Not dog slobbers?”
“Definitely not dog slobbers.”
We lay out in the warm air for a long time till the Tennessee summer night air dried us off, and I could head back to my room with some respect. At the hotel room door, you looked at me for a long time.
“You’re amazing, Cam. Don’t ever forget that.” And you flicked my nose with your finger and strolled away.
I didn’t know whether I should be crying, screaming, or laughing. I felt like I was on a roller coaster ride.
♫
♫ ♫
I went back to school my junior year more confused than ever. I knew that you wanted me. I knew that you still had feelings for me, but were purposely denying both of us happiness because of some stupid thing about our age and where we were at in life. Stupid.
Your coach had you playing about half the time. The senior QB wasn’t very happy about this because he was looking to get drafted, and you were inching in on his stats. This made football tough for the first time in your life. The team was divided between the two of you. He was the team leader who’d earned his spot and put in his time, and you were the new talent who almost always led the team to a win. Not always an easy win because your offensive line still stunk, but they were wins.
And on top of the team tension, your glucose levels were still all over the board these days. You were having a harder time managing and controlling it. Some days you told me that you even had tingling and loss of feeling in your left hand. At least it wasn’t your throwing hand.
Your doctor wanted you to go on an insulin pump. But that would mean the end of your football career. You can’t go careening around a football field with a pump and a needle in you. Even Kate had mixed feelings about this. I think it was because as a wannabe doctor, she knew you needed the pump to stabilize your levels, but she’d started dating you as a freshman because of the status of dating a superstar QB.
All of this made you super moody. If I talked with you on the phone, I never knew what mood you were going to be in. Sometimes you were normal, happy, teasing Jake. Other times you were this person I felt like I’d never met. This dark, thoughtful Jake who I still loved but pulled at my heart in a completely different way.
You were struggling. Drowning. And all I wanted to do was to help you. I wanted to be the dolphin bringing you to the surface. To make sure you were safe. And I couldn’t. Not only because we were two hours apart in miles, not only because we were three years apart in age, but also because you wouldn’t let me.
On the outside, I was still doing what you’d asked. I was living the high school life. I’d been selected to the Homecoming court. And Mia was selected to Homecoming court as a freshman too. Even though she wasn’t an athlete, Mia had your easy way of smooth talking everyone, and your smile. And your wink. It was fun having her at school with me.
Anyway, I got all dressed up and did the homecoming thing. My daddy used the ’58 Corvette that was the icon of our car dealership to drive Mia and me in the parade. She was good for me. It was like I had a little piece of you with me when Mia was there. She could keep me sane like you used to be able to do.
I went to the dance with a guy named Keith who was the Junior Homecoming Prince. He was nice. Polite. But honestly, I thought he was gay. He’d never had a girlfriend that anyone could remember, dressed nice, and had the best taste in everything. That might be a stereotype, but it seemed to fit for him. Of course, as part of the football team, living in Tennessee, he’d never admit to being gay in high school. Regardless, he was a lot of fun.
Before the big day, the Homecoming court and leadership teams had been working hard on the floats and stuff. Keith and I were having a great time leading the group in laughter and adventures. We started water fights, food fights, and wrestling matches that made me think of you with longing. Keith was just a good guy. Maybe he felt as safe with me as I did with him. Neither of us wanted anything to come of the relationship. Mia took lots of pictures and pasted them all over Instagram the morning before the big game and dance.
You called me that morning right after she posted the pictures. You were crabby as hell. I asked what was wrong, and you said nothing, life was just peachy.
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
“Well, guess what, Cam, you’re not always right.”
“I’m never right when it comes to you these days.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why are you angry with me?”
You sighed. “I’m not.”
“You are. Did you call because you need someone to fight with? Or have you not checked your levels lately?”
“God. Not all of my moods have to do with my goddamn glucose levels.” And I knew you were in a rotten mood because you hardly ever swore around me anymore. Not since middle school when I’d picked up your bad language. You hated it when I swore.
“I’m hanging up,” I said.
“Fine. Go have a good time with Keith.” And you were so sarcastic, I could tell you were jealous. I wanted to laugh because Keith was so obviously gay, and I could easily tell you that, but the stubborn side of me was tweaked by the whole conversation and glad that you were jealous. So instead, I egged you on.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted me to go get a high school boyfriend and do all the things a high school girl is supposed to do.”
You didn’t say anything. I could tell reality was hitting you. I could imagine you sitting there cursing yourself and wanting to apologize because I was throwing back at you every last thing you’d been saying to me for a year.
“I gotta go,” I said.
“Cami.”
I froze. And you knew I was still there. That I would never hang up on you when you called me that.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“I know.”
“Have a good time tonight.”
And I did. Sort of. Because Keith was fun. And not threatening. But at the back of my head I was thinking about you and worried about your moods and what the hell was going on with you.
You didn’t come home for Thanksgiving again. I guess I had expected it this time. But when you came home for Christmas before the bowl games started again, you were not yourself. You were shaky at the drop of a hat, and you’d drop things from your left hand. You’d growl at Mia or me over the stupidest things.
The night before you left to go home, I confronted you again. We were in the tree house. Hanging out, looking at the stars. My star wasn’t out tonight, the best time to see it was really in September. When we were never together.
“Jake,” I breathed out as we snuggled under a blanket together.
“Yeah?”
“I’m worried about you.”
You didn’t answer right away. But finally, it came out soft and emotional, “Me too.”
I turned in the blanket so I could look at your face. You wouldn’t look at me. Eventually, I took your chin in my hand and forced you to look at me. Like you had done to me all those years ago when I’d admitted that you were breaking my heart.
“What are you going to do about it?”
You looked into my eyes with that intense look that still made my heart skip beats. Today I could see more than just desire in those eyes. I saw pain. Fear. I wasn’t used to you being afraid. It rarely came out. Only around the stupid diabetes because you couldn’t control it.
And instead of replying, you kissed me again. Strong and hard and full of so much more than just the teenage longing that we’d shared so many times. It was like you were trying to draw strength from me. I was usually the one relying on you for strength. It freaked me out at the same time it made me feel important. Needed.
You were the one to push away. You always were the one to push me away. It was so ridiculous. The stupid, dramatic ups and downs were killing me. I felt like we were in an ABC Family drama that we’d always made fun of before now. I stood up and threw the blanket at you.
“What the hell? I’m so tired of being a ping-pong ball. You want me. You don’t want me. You want me, but you feel like you shouldn’t want me. Make a goddamn choice and stick with it.”
I stormed out.
I felt guilty as hell. You were hurting. You needed me, or rather, you needed something. And I had not only walked out on you, but I didn’t even talk to you through the whole bowl week. But a girl can only take so much. And I was irritated. And stubborn. And you know when I get like that there isn’t much that can bring me around. Usually it was you
. But as I was mad at you, there was nothing to stop me from being the Cam that both our mamas had wanted to lock in a closet.
When I think about all of that now…I hate myself. What a waste of time. We wasted so much time. Both of us. God! We were both idiots, weren’t we?
UTK did pretty well at the bowl games, but you weren’t quarterbacking most of the games. Your coach was finally trying to help that senior QB to the draft too. When I saw you on the sidelines, you looked pale. It twisted a knife inside me. Maybe I was partly keeping away because if you told me again that you were scared, I’d be running to Knoxville to try to save you, and I knew that you’d be as happy about that as you were the time I punched Brian in the face.
I called you on your birthday. You were pretty short with me. You called me on my birthday, but it was brief and to the point. We’d put up yet another, thicker wall. It felt like, even though you’d been gone for a year and a half, that this was the first time I really felt without you. Like you were truly leaving me. I had forced you to leave, and you’d taken me seriously. It made me easy prey for everything that followed.
I Knew You Were Trouble
“Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago
I was in your sights, you got me alone.”
- Swift, Martin, Shellback
Where does that deep frustration lead a person? To mistakes. Mistakes with boys who are there and who can make you feel good for a while. And the truth was, in the end, it was only going to end up bad. For me. For everyone. So… I guess I knew it was trouble from the moment it started. But I wanted it. Needed the trouble to lead me astray from you. It was self-defense, but ended up with me on the ground in a whole new way.