“You can’t be ser— you know what? Believe what you want to believe,” he mutters, looking away.
I turn, throwing my sandals into the top of my case. This isn’t neat packing, but I don’t have enough time for that right now. By this point, all I can gather is that he doesn’t love me and won’t choose me over swimming. And that hurts more than enough.
“Nothing you say makes sense to me,” I tell him. “Except for the fact that you don’t want me, and you don’t wantus.Thatis crystal clear.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” His voice is quiet.
‘Sorry’ doesn’t feel like enough right now.
I avoid his gaze so he can’t tell that I’m crying. “I need to catch my flight.” I angrily try to pull on the case zip. It keeps getting stuck. Does literally everything hate me today?
“Kath, let me do it,” he says, trying to reach around, but I bat his hand away.
“Just don’t. I don’t need your help. And you know what?I don’t need you to get me to the airport, I can do that on my own. Just like everything else. In fact, I don’t needyouat all. Not anymore.”
“Please, Kath. Don’t be like this. We can still be friends. Best friends,” he begs me, as I finally manage to shut my case and walk to the door.
I pause. My heart is still pounding, and I can’t even start untangling the emotions I'm feeling. Friends don’t say they resent you. Friends don’t throw declarations of love back in your face.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I need to think about myself now.”Instead of always you, I tack on silently to myself.
As I exit the room, I can’t help one last glance at my best friend and worst heartbreak.
Not my problem. Not anymore.
I walk out of the room.
I have a flight to catch, a degree to finish, and a life that’s been getting on without him for months now. It can keep going.
Ican keep going.
It takes everything in me not to cry on the metro on the way to the airport. Why am I letting a boy who won’t even love me back break my heart?
All the films on the plane remind me of Sam. When I arrive home, I turn on the TV, and his face appears on some stupid Olympics recap. His Speedo advert is at my local pool.
And I know I’ll never be able to escape him.
Chapter 34
Twenty years old
Sam
Today is the anniversary of my mum’s death.
Three years.
Three years since I was able to laugh at one of her jokes. Three years since I got to hold her hand or give her a hug. Three years of wishing I could talk to her and remembering all over again that I can’t.
Sometimes I dream that she’s still alive, and I wake up excited to go down to breakfast. Then I look at the ceiling and realise it’s the white ceiling of my room here in Florida, not the cream of my childhood bedroom. And that even if I was at home, I still wouldn’t be able to talk to Mum over my porridge because she’s gone.
Dad called me early this morning, and while it was comforting to hear his voice I wasn’t really in the mood for a conversation. So now I’m sitting at a desk doing schoolwork, and I just feel incredibly alone.
Looking at my essay I massage my temples. I promised myself I’d get this done before practice but my brain doesn’t feel like it’s in the right gear. Everything’s slow, and everything’s distracting me. I check my phone compulsively, a habit born of many Kath-less months. There’s never a messagefrom her but that doesn’t stop my heart from aching at the sight of the blank screen.
It’s been two months since Rio. Two months of berating myself over the loss of my best friend, and knowing that it was all my fault. Pushing her away felt—no, feels—like the right thing to do, but hurts like I’ve sawn off my own arm and called it first-aid.
I keep replaying the fight in my head—not the shouting, but the look on her face when I said I’d resent her.Why couldn’t I figure out the right way to say it before I opened my mouth?Maybe because there isn’t a right way to say it. It’s all a jumble. The pressure I feel, to perform, to make my mum proud, to give Kath all she deserves. And the resentment at knowing I can’t have it all, and knowing that if we were together she’d realise I was holding her back, and that she’s entitled to more than always coming second to something else.
