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ALLIE
Sometime during the football game, the drizzle had turned to full-on sleet. Almost everyone but those in the student section left before the end of the game. I stayed and sat in the bleachers with my hood on, watching Jace make hit after hit.
When he and I had dated, I’d always loved coming to his games. Now, I went because I wanted to, not for him. It was something to do in this town that didn’t involve drugs or alcohol, just sweaty, muscular boys who had to get their aggression out on someone.
After we won, I decided not to wait for Jace to get out of the shower. He would probably be off to another party to celebrate his win against Redwood’s rivals. And he wouldn’t want to drive me to the cemetery anyway.
Today was the anniversary of Dad’s death. The last four years without him had been some of the hardest years of my entire life. I hated not seeing his crooked grin when he came home from deployment or not smelling the blueberry pancakes he made for me as often as he could.
I walked to three stores within half a mile of the cemetery to try to find some marigolds—Dad’s favorite flowers—to bring to his grave. When nobody in walking distance had any marigolds, I settled on a bunch of pink roses for him. I bought an umbrella too, not that it would do much in the diagonal-falling sleet.
After waiting in CVS for five minutes, hoping the weather would clear, I hurried out into the storm and started my short walk toward the cemetery. It was freezing outside, and my waterproof rain jacket definitely wasn’t waterproof, as I could feel the water sticking to my arms.
When I made it to the cemetery, my heart ached. I didn’t come here as much as I should have. I tried to avoid it because I hated the feeling of helplessness, knowing that I didn’t have anyone to hold me as I broke down in tears in front of his grave. Mom didn’t come with me anymore, only on their anniversary. I didn’t want Imani here. And Jamal … that’d just be weird.
I sat on the wet grass and rested my head against Dad’s gravestone, my fingers brushing against the dog tags that I always kept in my backpack, in my purse, almost everywhere I went. Mom didn’t want them anymore. She’d told me that she didn’t want Harlan to get angry or jealous over them.
“I’m sorry that I’m here alone,” I said to him, wanting a response back but knowing that I’d never get to hear him say, “It’s okay, kiddo,” again.
I let the sleet pound against my thin jacket and drench me. Tears welled up in my eyes, some spilling down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry that Mom’s not here. I asked her to come, but she’s out with Harlan.”
I sat there for an hour, maybe two, twisting and turning his dog tags between my fingers. My phone had died during the game, so I couldn’t tell exactly how long the rain and sleet had been pouring down on me.
“I wish you were still here,” I whispered. “I miss you so much. I try to make you proud every day, but lately … lately, I don’t know what I’m doing down here without you.” I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and let a couple more tears fall down my cheeks. “I hope I’m making you proud.”
When I heard the purr of an engine, I opened my eyes to see someone parking on the side of the road near Dad’s grave. The headlights pierced through the dark fog sitting overhead. Crying in a cemetery in the middle of the night probably wasn’t my best choice.
I gazed over at the car, my heart racing when it turned off and the darkness consumed the cemetery again. And in the midst of the rain and the sleet, I saw Jace Harbor get out and walk over to me with a bunch of marigolds in his hands.
