Grave
*Kayla*
December 18, 2015
The past five days have been beyond stressful. Anne has been over at my house every day after school, and we study until we fall asleep. Finals began Tuesday, and our futures are weighing heavily on our shoulders.
Even though I’m already accepted into the college I want to attend, it is still possible that they can withdraw my acceptance. I have to maintain my 3.8 grade average. It has been slipping the last few months, considering everything that’s going on.
Finals are always hit or miss. They can either save your grade or destroy it. I will do everything to ensure it is not the latter.
Ever since the “I love you” incident at the swimming pool, Anne hasn’t let up with questions. She was concerned as to why I didn’t say it back to him.
Why didn’t I?
Because it wasn’t directed to me, no matter what Tyler or Anne saw. Dallas and I both know it was meant for Kyle, that Dallas doesn’t, in fact, love me.
That is all right, though. We have only been officially dating three weeks; I don’t expect him to confess his undying love for me.
I am currently sitting in my Psychology class, my foot bouncing on its ball as I anxiously await the test. I bite the eraser of my pencil, staring at the clock. Just a few minutes until my final test will begin. Since we all have 5th period lunch and the finals today are 3rd and 5th period, we get to leave school early.
Only one final today. All my focus is on this one final test, and I’m completely exhausted and drained. No matter how much coffee I drink or brain-nurturing energy bars I eat, I am entirely spent.
Dallas slides into his seat beside me and places his customary kiss to the side of my head. My eyes instantly flicker around the room to make sure people aren’t staring. People are—for lack of better words—displeased with our coupling. I have been shot more death glares than one would typically get for being in a relationship.
Ashley Delta is the cause of it all. All her friends side with her, angry with Dallas for “breaking her heart,” and despise me for somehow “stealing him from her.”
Ashley approaches me one day, wagging a finger in my face as she rudely yells at me and accuses me of being a “boyfriend stealer.” She warns me to watch my back because she’s determined to gain Dallas back.
I laugh lightly at the memory, ashamed with her poor vocabulary and feeble insults.
“What’s funny?” Dallas asks, pulling out a pencil from his jacket pocket and chewing on the yellow wood, staring at me.
I smile, noticing that my own pencil eraser is still firmly between my front teeth. I place it on the table and shake my head. “Just thinking about Ashley’s threat,” I say. Dallas had laughed the moment I told him a few days ago. He thought it was funny as well, not at all worried about her.
Dallas smiles and twists the pencil between his teeth. He’s nervous. I have never seen him chew on a pencil before. I never chew on pencils unless I’m stressed or anxious. It’s the stupid test that is dawning on us and our futures.
“One more final and then it’s Christmas break,” Dallas says, taking the pencil from his mouth and setting it on the table out of reach so he doesn’t resume gnawing on it.
“I know. I can’t wait until you see what I got you,” I say, propping my elbow on the table and resting my chin in the palm of my hand. I meet Dallas’s eyes as he quirks an eyebrow in question. He reaches over and plays with the ends of my ponytail.
It reminds me of the day that he pulled my hair down and fanned it over my shoulders. He had said that he preferred it down. Is that still true?
I subconsciously run my hand over my ponytail, pulling it over my shoulder. “What did you get me?” Dallas asks, his voice low and in my ear. I giggle as his breath tickles my neck.
Kyle visited us a few days ago when Dallas and I were studying in my living room. Dallas was in the kitchen, grabbing us some snacks, though he was gone much longer than one would expect. Meanwhile, Kyle showed up, and I asked him what Dallas would like for Christmas. His answer was, “anything Bulls.”
I got Dallas a signed picture of Derrick Rose and Jimmy Butler standing mid-game, both smiling at whatever was said. It’s a great picture with two elegant signatures next to the players. I’m hoping he will like it, but I know I can’t go wrong with basketball or Chicago Bulls.
“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. And then the amazing gift would go to waste, and that doesn’t play out in anyone’s favor.” I shrug, casting Dallas a smile. He tuts, rolling his eyes.
“You she-devil.”
I managed to get all B’s on my finals except Psychology, where I got an A. My grade point average is safe, and I’m proud to say that Dallas did exceptionally well. His GPA even rose two decimal points. He’s clearly surprised; I can tell by the look on his face when we look at our grades online together.
It is Wednesday the 23rd. Dallas and I planned to celebrate our Christmas today since he works every other day of the week, aside from Christmas. We both agreed to spend Christmas with our families.
Dallas got a second job, working at XSport, where he occasionally plays basketball with his friends. Little League basketball is over, so to keep making money he had to get another job. He feels it’s his responsibility to help his mother with bills and groceries.
I always wanted to ask if his father helped with the house and the expenses, but it’s not my business.
Dallas and I are currently sitting on his living room couch, curled up against each other as we stare at the Christmas tree. It’s only 2:00, and apparently Dallas has the whole evening planned for us.
I had asked him what he planned, to know how to dress. I inwardly cringed when he said to dress fancy. I thought dressing up twice in a year would be enough, but I was secretly thrilled to wander into my closet in search of another dress. I decided on another sweater dress, this one a dark red with no shape. It doesn’t hug anywhere, except perhaps my chest. It’s long sleeved and stops mid-thigh. So to complete it, I am wearing brown leggings with brown thigh-high boots.
It’s a comfortable outfit, yet I am still dressed up for a Christmas dinner.
“I am so lucky,” Dallas whispers, his chin resting on the top of my head. I smile, my eyes zeroing on the presents under the tree. I can see my gift for Dallas, the white bag with a reindeer standing in the center. From across the room, I can see the glittery swirls on the bag that indicate snow. The reindeer’s antlers have snow sitting on the tips. It’s a beautiful bag, and I am secretly sad to be parted with it.
“No, I’m lucky.” Who would have ever thought that the star basketball player and womanizer of Waubonsie Valley High School would end up dating me? I still have to pinch myself to realize this isn’t a dream. “Do you want to open your gift?” I ask.
I don’t wait for Dallas to respond. I unwrap my arms from his waist and stand from the couch. I grab his present and the one he got for me and bring them over to our spot. I sit cross-legged on the couch, facing Dallas as I hand him his bag.
He smiles as he sets it on his lap, looking like a little kid again as he pulls out the tissue paper to reveal the picture frame inside. Pulling it out, his mouth drops open. “Holy—” He cuts short, looking over at me with wide eyes. “Kayla…” I bite my bottom lip and smile sweetly. Dallas leans over and places a heavy kiss to my lips, and I greedily return it. “This is amazing. Thank you.”
Dallas sets the frame down and hands me my present. It’s rectangular and light. It’s wrapped in red and white Christmas paper. I read the tag on the present.
To: Kay ❤ From: Dallas.
I smile at the heart by my name before I tear off the wrapping paper.
I quickly notice it’s a book, and my excitement grows as I hastily flip it over. My heart nearly stops as I read the bold font of “Francine Rivers” at the bottom of the book. Lifting my eyes to the title, I feel tears start to gather. I look over at Dallas, and his eyebrows dip with concern. “No, don’t cry,” he whispers, moving close to reach up and wipe a tear from under my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Kayla. Do you not like it? You’ve always talked about Francine Rivers and—”
Oh, this stupid, silly boy. How does he not see that he has just given me the best gift?
I cut Dallas off by giving him a quick kiss. “No, you idiot. I love it.” Not only do I love the fact that he bought me a book by my favorite author, but because he remembered from months ago that she is my favorite author. “How did you know this is the only one I need?” A Daughter’s Dream is the second book in a series, and even though I finished the first book years ago, I never bought the second.
My father always gifted me with Francine Rivers books, and when he passed away, it seemed wrong to get them without him. My father never read them, but he always listened when I would babble on about the characters or cry shamelessly when the book was over and the characters were no longer a part of my life. It was our secret, special bonding moment.
And now, with Dallas giving me this book, it’s as if I can feel my dad’s presence with us.
Dallas smiles sheepishly at me, and I can’t help but smile at his guilty expression. “Remember when I was over studying? When I was getting snacks, I secretly went about the house to find all your books.” Dallas went through all that trouble? Surely, he could have just asked my mother or Katie. They would have told him which one I needed.
The fact that he went through such lengths is touching. “Thank you so much, Dallas. It means the world to me.” I open the cover, and my eyes softly widen before another grin breaks across my face.
Merry Christmas. 2015.
Kayla, I am so grateful to have you in my life. It has been a bumpy couple of months, but I look forward to seeing our relationship grow with time. You have truly made me a better person, and for that, I am eternally indebted to you. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas with your friends and family.
Yours,
Dallas.
Closing the book, I look up at him. He’s scratching the back of his neck, and I can tell he’s slightly embarrassed. “I just want you to be able to remember this moment. When you open that book years from now and open the cover, you will remember today.” I can’t contain it anymore. I shift forward so I’m kneeling on the couch and wrap my arms around his neck.
My lips connect with his in a frenzy as I pour all my emotions and gratitude into this single kiss. Dallas grabs my waist and pulls me close so I’m practically sitting on his lap. My fingers tangle in his hair. He cut it again for Christmas, but it’s still long enough to be able to slide my fingers through the strands.
Dallas’s tongue skims my bottom lip, almost as an invitation. I accept, parting my lips to allow his tongue to press forward and touch my own. My stomach flutters with a thousand butterflies at this new and odd sensation. It leaves me breathless, causing me to pull back and look down at Dallas. His blue eyes are bright and shimmering with desire.
“We have to go,” he whispers, reaching up and pecking my nose. “We have reservations at three o’clock.”
It’s an early dinner, but Dallas says it’s because he still wants sunlight for the last part of my present. He really doesn’t need to get me anything else. The book was most definitely enough. It was perfect.
Dallas treated me to Houlihans. I found it clever and generous. It made me chuckle when he parked the car in the lot. It was the restaurant he told Ashley he was taking me to on our first date.
The food was amazing, and Dallas and I were able to talk endlessly. Millions of topics came up, such as our futures, our five-year goals, our favorite movies, and even our most embarrassing moments.
I didn’t really have an embarrassing moment, aside from when I was doing a Slip N’ Slide with Anne. I was running and decided to slide too early, ending up in the grass and getting a grass-burn on my stomach.
Dallas’s was hilarious. Apparently when he was playing basketball in middle school, he went for a lay-up, and in the jumble of bodies, his shorts were somehow pulled down to reveal a pair of Star Wars underwear. It was hard to contain my laughter as I rocked back and forth.
I smile at the memory, looking over at Dallas as he drives. He’s so handsome. His hair is perfectly combed and styled, short at the sides and long at the top with a wave. He’s wearing a gray button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The shirt is tucked into black dress pants. He’s not wearing a tie this time, unlike Thanksgiving. Black Aviator sunglasses sit on his face, making him look even older than he already does.
Dallas has his left hand mounted at the top of the steering wheel while his right hand is warmly interlocked with my own. Dallas subconsciously rubs his thumb over my knuckles as he focuses on the road. It’s a small, calming gesture that brings a blush to my cheeks.
I’m always blushing with him.
When Dallas slows the car to a stop and shifts it to park, I take it upon myself to see where we are. A cemetery. I whip my head back around to Dallas to see him give me one look before he slides out of the Jeep. He walks around and opens my door, offering me a hand.
I cautiously take it, letting him help me down. Dallas pulls me close and wraps an arm around my shoulders to keep me warm in the cool December breeze.
Is he wanting to see Kyle’s grave?
Dallas leads me, keeping me close. He doesn’t speak, and neither do I. It feels right to be in silence, in honor of the dead.
We walk for a few minutes until he stops us in front of a familiar headstone. Chills run down my spine as the hairs at the back of my neck stand. Tears shamelessly roll down my cheeks as I pull away from Dallas and step forward so I am directly in front of my father’s grave.
Jason Williams
Beloved husband and father
B. 4.11.1967 D. 9.9.2013
I fall to my knees, not caring that its uncomfortable because of my boots or that the ground is cold. I sit there, staring at the headstone, wishing that my father could be here to meet Dallas. I haven’t been here in nearly a year, and I’m now realizing how much I have needed him.
Dallas stays back, doesn’t make a move to comfort me. He allows me time to grieve and reconnect with my father. It’s exactly what I need, and I’m grateful that he’s giving it to me.
“Hi, Daddy. I have someone here with me. Someone I want you to meet. His name is Dallas. Kyle’s older brother. I’m sure you know who he is; you were always current on Waubonsie’s basketball season. He’s my boyfriend, and I want you to meet him.” I brush the back of my hand across my cheek, a feeble attempt to stop the tears. “I love him, Dad. And I wish you had the chance to know him.” I get to my feet and look over at Dallas.
His own eyes are watery as he looks at me, his lips parted at my confession. He tilts his head, and with a simple blink, I see a tear roll down his cheek. He doesn’t say anything.
I turn back to the grave and lean down to place my hand on the tombstone. “I miss you, Daddy. And I love you so much.” After a long moment of silence and stillness, I step back and walk over to wrap my arms around Dallas’s waist. He holds me tightly, pressing his cheek onto the top my head.
I am so blessed to have such a generous, selfless boyfriend. Dallas planned this whole day for me, buying me a book that means the world to me, taking me to a restaurant that connects to our first date, and now bringing me to my father.
He had asked me what I wanted for Christmas.
“I just want to be with my friends and family.”
Dallas gave me something I didn’t even know I wanted. I was honest when I told him I only wanted to be with the people I love. But I never knew just how much I wanted and needed to talk to my dad.
“Merry Christmas, Dallas,” I whisper into his chest.
Dallas places a kiss to the top of my head. “Merry Christmas, Kayla.”