Page 126 of Kickoff

Paige stepped away from me, drying her cheeks. “She loves you, Mase. That’s the thing. She’s been loving you for quite a long time. She was just too proud to admit it.”

“Well, maybe that’s not enough.”

I locked myself in my bedroom, and for the first time in my entire life, I cried myself to sleep. For what I had and what I lost. And for the girl next door who owned my heart but refused to hang on to it or trust me to help her fight her demons by her side.

32

I’ve always loved you

Jitters invaded me as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. “You can do this, man,” I told my reflection. “Today is the day. You’ve bid your time and are ready to see Melinda Shepard again. Am I right?” I nodded at my reflection. It’d been six weeks since I last talked to her, and the truth was that I missed her like crazy. My feelings for her hadn’t faded during the time we were apart. In fact, her absence had only solidified what I already knew. I was in love with her. The hole in my heart her absence had created had only deepened over the last few weeks. All I longed for was to be her sidekick again. To rejoice with her when she had a good day and celebrate her victories, no matter how small or inconsequential they might seem. To be her support system when she had a bad day and needed some cheering up and to be her shoulders when it became too much and she had to cry it out. I prayed a month and a half had been enough time for her anger and hurt to have waned and her common sense about us to have returned.

Every week since she’d been gone, her parents had updated me about her well-being. I had spent so much time over there in the last few weeks that I had breakfast at their house twice. I even helped Mr. Shepard when he hung a giant wreath up the cedar gable bracket of their house the week before Christmas. They also invited me to dinner once, but it felt weird to be at their place while their daughter was away, getting treated for an eating disorder. They missed her—how could they not? I did too—and had driven to see her for Christmas, but she had refused to talk to them. They warned me it was part of the process and that it was normal behavior for her to reject the people who cared about her the most at first. They said eventually she would get better and the anger would dissipate.

“I love you,” I told the mirror, pretending it was her. “I’ve always loved you. I’m done standing on the sideline. If you love me too and you think what we have is real and worth fighting for, then let’s figure this out together. I wanna be by your side while you fight this. I believe we can work out our shits better if we do it together as a team. If you’re not ready for more, there’s no rush. We can go back to the friendship thing we’ve got going on. I’m okay with that too. Take all the time you need to heal and feel better, but please don’t push me away again. I’m right here… I’ll be right here when you need me. If a part of you believes we can be much more and you’re ready to take a leap of faith, I’m asking you: Melinda Shepard, will you go out with me?”

My heart thundered in my chest, and my hands felt moist. I exhaled. I could do this.

Before they left to pick her up in Traverse City three days ago at her aunt and uncle’s, her parents reassured me that Melinda was doing much better. She still had a long way to go, but they were confident she could get through this. She even received the green light to start training with the swim team again as long as she kept up with therapy and her weekly meeting with a nutritionist, and her sessions and meals were monitored.

My heart beat wild in my chest. Seeing Melinda again after all this time apart felt like a big deal, and I didn’t wanna look desperate, yet a part of me yearned to see her with my own eyes to assess whether she really was recovering. Sometimes, I wondered if she missed me too. If she missed what we had…what we were…I never contacted her like she had requested, and I knew firsthand she never reached out to Paige either. When she came over for dinner two days ago, Paige confided she was as anxious as I was to have her best friend back in her life and attest to the status of their relationship.

At night, when I was alone, missing her, I wrote her letters. I found it helped with untangling my messy feelings and thoughts—and it made me feel closer to her in a way. There were a dozen of them stored in a shoebox under my bed. I still hadn’t decided if I would give them to her one day.

I gave my reflection a thumbs-up, fixed my tousled hair, and dressed in a pair of jeans and a vintage-looking white T-shirt that I had bought on one of our shopping sprees with her approval. We had spent an hour at the arcade that afternoon. I hoped she remembered the day as much as I did, and the sight of the shirt triggered her memories of what we used to be. Back then, I thought she was being cute when she suggested we skip dinner so we could catch a movie and cuddle in the dark. Even though Mom told me multiple times Melinda’s disorder wasn’t on me and I wasn’t responsible for her struggles, I still loathed myself for not realizing sooner that she was suffering in silence.

“Ready?” Craig asked as I passed him on the staircase on my way downstairs.

“As much as I’ll ever be.”

“Did she try to contact you after she made it home last night?”

“No. I swear it took all my inner power to stay away. I almost knocked on her door at nine because I was becoming restless. I didn’t want to look like a creep, so I didn’t spy next door like I craved to. Maybe it would have been smarter to ring their doorbell and not wait until we were at school to talk to her… What do you think?”

“I think you’re worrying too much. Her parents told you she was doing better. If I were her, I’d be anxious to come back to school after everything. She wouldn’t be back if it was bad, no? Paige had been pacing her own bedroom all day yesterday, hoping for a call that never came. I’m sure it’ll all be okay.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right. It still feels like a big deal, though.”

“I know. I’ll root for you, Mase. I’ll root for you two. I know she’s the one struggling right now, but I swear she’s good for you too. You’ve dropped the act since things started becoming serious between you guys. I feel like I’m getting my brother back—the real him.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me, man.”

“I’m not. I’ve just missed the guy, that’s all.”

I nodded. “Thanks.” We fist-bumped, and I reached the landing with a jump.

“Mason,” Mom warned. “There are stairs, use them. No need to start an earthquake this early in the morning.”

“Sorry, Mom,” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek while I grabbed the protein shake I made earlier from the table.

“You’re in a good mood this morning. I’m glad the gloomy attitude you wore during the entire break is gone. I’ve missed my happy son.” It seemed like my whole family had missed me while I’d been here the entire time. Go figure.

“It is, Mom. And don’t call me your happy son. It’s lame.” I winced. “And disturbing.”

“Your brother is the serious one, Mason. You’re usually the laid-back one. Chillax. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s one of your most endearing qualities.”

“Whatever. And don’t say chillax either. You’re too old to talk like that.”

She blinked. “To talk like what? Am I not cool enough for the likes of you?”