All This Time(3)

“Absolutely.” She gently pats my face. Reassured, I give her the phone back. Total mistake.

She grabs it and quickly snaps two more pictures, still with a flash that is now popping behind my eyes. I attempt a glare, but the crow’s-feet around her eyes wrinkle as she grins innocently at me, and my frown cracks right down the middle. Nothing will bother me tonight, not even my mom’s incessant documentation of my life.

So I cheese it up, posing for one last photo, and once she’s satisfied, I’m off to finally find Kim. I chuck the wadded-up cocktail napkin into a trash can as I make my way toward the terrace, where the sky is dark and ominous on the other side of the glass.

It usually doesn’t take me long to find her.

She’s always had this fire, this magnetism that pulls people into her orbit. At school, I usually have to wade through a crowd of people just to get to her, so I keep my eyes peeled for the largest group and a flash of that particular shade of blond that manages to hold whatever light is in the room.

It’s been like that for as long as I can remember, the color the same as it was when we fought over the last swing on the playground in third grade.

I push into the crowd, and people part to let me through, smiles and high fives coming from every direction.

“Gonna miss those articles in the sports section next year, Lafferty,” Mr. Butler, my journalism teacher, says, giving me a pat on the back as I pass by him. Another reminder of all that time sitting on the bench, writing about the games instead of actually playing in them.

Where is she?

The disco ball overhead sends out glimmers of sparkling light, making it hard to see much of anything. I’m about to pull out my phone and fire off a text when…

There.

Her blond hair peeks past Sam’s broad shoulders as she shifts her weight ever so slightly to her left hip, her silk dress hugging her sides. She looks incredible tonight, long hair flowing around her shoulders, blue eyes bright and open, lips shiny with gloss.

But as I get closer, I see her face is serious, the familiar wrinkle in her forehead forming as she talks, like it always does when something is up. It’s a look I saw a week ago at prom and this afternoon when we were taking graduation pictures, but whenever I ask, it all gets smoothed away with a wave of her hand.

I look from her to Sam, watching as he nervously runs his fingers through his dark hair.

And that’s when I realize they must be talking about UCLA. The tension melts from my shoulders.

Kim and I have already committed, but Sam was wait-listed. Sam and I always dreamed of playing football together at UCLA, but after homecoming that was all over, thanks to me and my injury. I let the both of us down. After I was sidelined, Sam dropped so many passes and missed so many blocks, he was riding the bench almost as much as I was. When all of his football prospects dried up, his grades took a sharp dip right alongside his football career. So Kim’s been helping him send in some essays and updated supplements that’ll hopefully tip the scale in his favor.

Judging by the last few weeks, we’ll definitely need him there. Not only is he the friend that’s stuck with me through the mess of this last year, but he’s the glue that holds our trio together. He’s the voice of reason in all things, especially when Kim and I fight. He’s the one who pulls us back together when things get rough.

If he gets in, we could still all go to UCLA together. Even if we aren’t on the field anymore.

But from the look on Kim’s face, it seems like that might not be happening.

I walk over, wrap an arm around Kimberly’s waist, and lean in for a kiss. She returns it absentmindedly, her lips distracted.

“What’s up? What’s wrong?” I ask, looking from her to Sam and back again.

She leans in for another kiss, and her lips firmly meet mine this time, reassuring me, but she doesn’t answer.

I’m about to ask again, but I just shake off the weirdness instead. Everyone’s shaking off the old shit tonight, so we can too. Leave whatever this is behind for now. I came to celebrate with them, after all. I look both ways before unbuttoning my suit jacket to reveal the flask I smuggled in. “What do you say we go to the pond and—”

The words don’t even leave my mouth before lightning flashes on the other side of the window, illuminating the entire sky with electricity. The glass shakes ever so slightly with the long roll of thunder, and my reflection wobbles in it, staring back at me, but Sam’s and Kimberly’s are staring at each other.

“Nah, man,” he says, pointing to the sky. “I’m not looking to get fried alive tonight.”

“Oh, come on,” I say as fat drops of rain begin to loudly splatter against the window. “What’d you do with Sam? A little bad weather never stopped you before.” I knock the back of my hand against his shoulder. “Remember the blizzard after we won state two years ago? I think you were the one insisting we go. I’m pretty sure I still have frostbite.”

They don’t say anything. The silence makes my skin prickle with an uneasy feeling.

“What?” I ask, trying to meet Kimberly’s eyes. But she looks away at the streamers just over my shoulder instead. I’m beginning to think this isn’t about Sam’s application.

My hand slips from her waist as I pull away. “What aren’t you guys telling me?”

“I…,” she starts to say, her voice trailing off. Sam looks away.