Anger
*Kayla*
September 22, 2015
Yesterday was my first day back at school after the death of Kyle Perkins. I was actually quite surprised when I saw Dallas walk into our Psychology class. I’m sure his parents need him more than the school does. We could have survived another week without the presence of Dallas Perkins.
Well, everyone aside from Ashley Delta.
She was overjoyed to be reunited with her boyfriend. However, I could see the way he looked at her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she walks in today with puffy eyes and a red nose. It is almost a guarantee that her heart will be broken in due time.
I know Dallas tried to break my heart, break me, by everything he said to me yesterday at lunch. I was okay with him yelling at me. I was okay with him blaming me for his brother’s death. I was not okay that he could so easily dismiss the fact that his brother idolized him. That he thought so little of Kyle. I was also not okay with him thinking I intentionally sought the take Dallas’ place in Kyle’s life.
I couldn’t hold it against him, however. He was hurt, and he needed someone to blame. However, I can’t help but get the feeling that Kyle’s death hasn’t fully sunk in with him. Why was he so willing to go to school? And what did he mean by “next time you take Kyle to play basketball, I’m coming with”?
There wasn’t going to be a next time.
I went to the basketball courts last night, in some sort of way to reconnect with Kyle. I missed him not coming to our tutor session that Saturday before the incident. I never knew how much I relied on him. Without him coming every Saturday, it feels as if something is missing in my week. In my life.
I can’t imagine how it is for the Perkins family. They must be fighting every day just to get out of bed, knowing they will never make their son a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a package of string cheese and a bag of green grapes for lunch. Or wash his clothes, or make his bed. They will never take him to get a haircut again or…watch him play basketball as a Waubonsie Warrior.
A lone tear rolls down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away. I was always so excited to see Kyle exceed his brother’s skill in basketball. I was ready to have him become a Chicago Bulls player. However, it is never going to happen, and it’s a cold, hard reality to face.
Dallas was at the courts, sitting at center circle, his arms hooked around his legs and forehead pressed against his knees. The sight was gut wrenching, especially when I saw a sob rack through him. Not wanting to disturb him, I turned and headed back to my house. Dallas deserved to be with Kyle more than I did at the moment.
I promised myself that I would return.
Snapping back into the present, I open my book and return to reading, leaning back against the tree at the edge of the school courtyard.
Lunch is only halfway through, and I decided to spend the rest of it outside, enjoying the weather while it’s still warm. A few other students are with me, chattering quietly. Ignoring them, I finish the chapter and continue to the next.
Before I could get through the first line, I hear a collection of yelling and screaming. Lifting my head, my eyes connect with two men tackling and fighting.
“You think you can just shove me?!” I hear a thud, and I wince, knowing the poor man just got the end of Dallas’s fist. “Without apologizing?” Another thud.
I get to my feet, dropping my book where I sat, and lightly jog over to see Dallas straddling David Wood. He delivers another punch, and I see blood running down David’s face.
David lifts his hands to block the fists, and I feel as if I’m going to be sick. What is Dallas doing? All because of a shove?
Dallas grabs David by the collar of his shirt and pulls him up only to knock him down again with another punch. Deciding I have to do something, considering all the other bystanders aren’t interfering, I run over and grab Dallas by the shoulders, yanking him off David.
Dallas hits the ground, holding a look of surprise on his face until he sees it’s me and squints. He quickly stands to his feet and towers over me, hands balled into fists. “Move,” he growls.
“No.” I stand my ground, crossing my arms over my chest, blocking Dallas from getting to David, who is slowly rising to a sitting position. “If you want to get to him, you’ll have to get through me.”
Dallas arches a brow. “You think I won’t hit a girl? I will gladly knock your teeth in,” he snaps. By the look in his eyes, I have a feeling he’s right.
But I know Mrs. Perkins. I know she would never raise kids who would abuse women. I also don’t think she’d raise kids who fought innocent people, either. Perhaps I am mistaken and Dallas will knock my teeth in.
“Go ahead,” I say, surprised my voice is strong and not wavering. I’m shaking with fear on the inside.
Dallas stares at me for a long moment, his blue eyes darker than usual. They’re not sky blue like the typical Perkins eyes. They carry a desire for revenge, and it chills me to the bone.
Dallas grunts and runs a hand through his hair, leaving a thin trail of blood in his blond locks. “Bitch,” he mutters before turning and walking away, only to stop dead in his tracks. I look over my shoulder to see Mr. Gonzalez-Andrews, a math teacher, standing there with Mr. Hathaway, our principal. They are glaring sharply at Dallas, who lets out a groan.
“Let’s go. Principal’s office. Kayla, could you take David to the nurse, please?” I let out a sigh but nod my head, reaching a hand down to David. He gratefully takes it, and I help walk him to the nurse’s office, his arm slung around my shoulder.
“Thank you,” he moans, wincing in pain as he speaks. I only nod my head. He doesn’t have to mention it. I am happy to help him.
I swing my purple key chain around my pointer finger as I walk toward my silver Toyota Solara convertible. I unlock the car and throw my backpack in the trunk. As I open the driver’s door, it is harshly slammed shut, and I jump back, gasping. I look over my shoulder to see Dallas standing there, his face holding nothing but anger.
I gulp, leaning against my car and crossing my arms. “Nice day, isn’t it? I’m thinking of taking my car around, top down, feeling the nice breeze in my hair. How about you? You going to go on a cruise? I bet Jeeps are fun to drive in the summer. No doors, no roof. Perfect,” I babble, biting my bottom lip as I stare Dallas in the eyes.
I swear, on my father’s grave, that his tight mouth slightly quirked up in amusement. I call that a win.
“What you did was gravely stupid, Kayla. If you hadn’t been a girl, I would have knocked you senseless,” he grumbles.
“But I thought you were willing to hit girls?” I snip back at him. This time, Dallas does smile. But not a friendly ha-ha-I-think-you’re-funny smile. More like don’t-talk-back-to-me-or-I-will-murder-your-family smile.
“Don’t be smart with me. I severely hate you right now.”
“Why? I don’t understand what I ever did to make you hate me. The first time we spoke was when you picked Kyle up from my hou—” I let out a squeak, and Dallas roughly shoves me into my car, his arm pressed against my chest. He leans into me, glowering.
“Do not say his name. You don’t get to say his name. Not anymore.” My eyes are wide with fear, but all I do is nod and bite my bottom lip.
Dallas squints before he eases up.
“He liked me. He wanted us to meet,” I whisper. Dallas’s jaw ticks as he looks over my car, staring at nothing. I let out a sigh. “He loved you more than anyone. I didn’t steal him, Dallas. I was just trying to help you.”
“Me? You were trying to help me?” he snarls, his dark blue eyes meeting mine again.
I nod like an idiot, gulping. Students walk by us, only slowing down for a fraction of a second to watch us before scurrying off, not wanting to be a part of this.
“Yes. I knew how important it was to you. It’s your sport. However, you had other responsibilities. I was just trying to help, so you didn’t feel like you were letting him down by not being able to help him every Saturday. I’m so sorry, Dallas. I wasn’t thinking. I-I was just trying to help.” I hiccup a sob as I force the words to leave my lips, my eyes watering with tears.
Dallas looks down at me, his eyes softening slightly, and I can’t help but feel relieved. Perhaps I am getting through to him. I don’t want us to be enemies. Kyle meant too much to the both of us that we can’t soil his memory by fighting with one another. He wouldn’t want that.
“Have a good day, Kayla,” he says and then turns and walks away, not saying another word.
I sigh and hang my head as sudden exhaustion overtakes me. That took more out of me than I care to admit.
When I get home, my mom and Katie are sitting at the kitchen table, working on a puzzle. Dallas seemed to have held me up longer than I thought. Katie is in middle school; she never gets home before me, considering her school gets out a good thirty minutes after mine.
“Hey baby!” my mom calls. I drop my backpack by the stairs, kick off my flip-flops, and slowly walk over to sit beside my sister. I ruffle her hair gently and place a kiss to her cheek. She groans and wipes it off.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Tough day?” she asks.
“Exciting day. Exhausting day.” I reach over and grab a puzzle piece, placing it in its spot. I peek up at my mom, and she offers me a sad smile.
“How are you doing, sweetie?”
“I’m fine. Actually, I’m going to lie down. Wake me up when it’s Vikings time,” I say and head upstairs, picking up my backpack along the way.
Flopping on my bed, I let out a sigh as I look up at the ceiling, shaking my head. What a crazy day.
I will never be able to figure Dallas out…even though I have a feeling I will be seeing a lot more of him.