Amelia

Lying beneath the thick blanket of stars, I force myself to relax and breathe in the warm summer air, while enjoying the flickering of lightning bugs across the darkening sky and Cal’s arms wrapped tightly around me.

For days and days, my stomach has been in knots, worrying to no end like something tragic was about to happen and I was just a lonely bystander waiting for the last shoe to drop, but no more. I refuse to let my wild imagination and years of silly Jamaican superstitions ruin any more of my days with false ideas of doom.

“I love you,” Cal whispers into my thick mess of hair. I tried to straighten it again today, but the humidity in the hot June air refused to let it stay that way. My natural dark curls were now flaming around my head like Medusa’s wig of live venomous snakes. I turn my face up toward his, kissing along the scrappy stubble of hair he leaves along his chin just for me, knowing how much I love him with a five o’clock shadow.

“I love you more,” I tease back.

“Not possible,” he says, turning to me and extending his arm beneath my head so that it doesn’t hit the hard bed of his fire red pick-up truck. “I love you more than anything else in this world.”

“Hmm… more than cheese fries?” I pick at him, naming his favorite snack.

“Definitely” He says, tucking a stray curl behind my ear and kissing me on the tip of my nose.

“More than Reese’s Pieces?”

“Oh, now I don’t know about that.” I stab him in the ribs with my finger, tickling him until he caves in. “Okay, Okay… more than Reese’s Pieces too.”

“More than football?” I ask, repeating the same question I have asked him a thousand times before. We’ve always teased back and forth like this, picking with each other over who loves whom the most and why. Only this time, he doesn’t reply with the same carefree laugh that usually follows my question. My body tenses, expecting the worst but never imagining what follows.

He sighs, and everything I have felt over the last few days floods my veins, causing my blood to run cold. That isn’t a normal sigh. That is an I need to tell you something sigh, and right now, I’m pretty sure I want to hear anything other than what he needs to tell me.

“You know there were scouts out all this year watching the team,” he says, leaning up on his elbows and pulling me up beside him.

Of course I know the scouts were here. I was in the stands cheering him on during every game, both home and away. I saw them watching, talking between themselves at times, and jotting down notes in their little yellow pads to study later. I especially saw how their eyes followed Callum everywhere he went.

I nod my head and wait for him to go on. Already, I can feel the bile bubbling in my stomach, racing for a chance to explode up my throat and out of my mouth. I should have paid more attention to what I was feeling these past weeks. I should have listened to those age old wives’ tales my G passed down instead of just nodding along and pretending to have something else to do, but when your family is as crazy as mine, you tend to take ninety percent of what you’re told with a grain of salt.

Shoulda.

Coulda.

But . . . didn’t.

“One of those team scouts contacted me. They offered me a sweet deal, but I would have to leave immediately. I told them no.”

“What?” I scream, jumping from my spot in his arms and landing on the ground in front of the tailgate, my naked breasts bouncing around wildly.

“What do you mean you said no? This is your dream. This is what you have worked your whole life for, and you're just going to throw it away? For what?” I yell into the still night sky until I’m blue in the face from lack of oxygen. My hands are flailing in every direction, my feet stomping in the dusty field, causing a smoky cloud to billow up around us.

“Us. You. I told them no for you. I made a promise, Amie, and I won't be breaking it… not now, not ever.”

“What the hell, Cal. Screw the promise. I release you from the promise. I’ll be fine. Just go. Follow your dream.”

“No.”

“No?” What the ever loving hell does he mean no?

“No. I’m not taking the offer. I’m not leaving you when you need me the most. I’m not walking away from my whole world, my whole life, to follow a simple dream. Dreams can wait. I will be here for you, dammit.” Sliding to the edge of the tailgate, he lowers himself until his legs are dangling freely, and then he pulls on my limp, motionless arm, dragging me toward him. I can’t fight him now. I don’t have any fight left in me.

I don’t know what to say. It’s clear he’s made up his mind, and like so many other people before me have found out, when Callum Johnson makes up his mind about something, he’s about as immovable as a mountain.

I don’t know what to do . . . what to say. I let him pull me back into his lap, and I kiss him with all the love and frustration of the moment. I kiss him with everything I have inside me, pushing every ounce of love I feel into him.

He can’t stay in Fair Grove and be a professional football player. I can’t leave Fair Grove to be with him. It could be weeks or months until the judge approves my guardianship request for my younger brother, whom my mother has abandoned. I’m not naive enough to believe that either of us would be able to make a long distance relationship work. I know in this moment that in order for him to follow his dreams, he’s going to have to give up on me. There is only one way to make him do that. I have no choice.

I have to let him go.