Denial
*Dallas*
September 21, 2015
I roll out of bed this Monday morning feeling anew. No sad thoughts enter my mind as I pad over to my bathroom and take a quick shower. When I get out, I brush my teeth and proceed to my usual morning routines.
I dress in tight khaki pants and a plain black t-shirt. I slip on my black Chuck Taylors, and after I perfectly style my hair, I head downstairs, where I see my mom sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of hot coffee in her hand. She is still dressed in her purple robe, her sad brown eyes staring into space.
When she hears me, her head lifts, and our eyes meet. Her emotionless face takes up a look of confusion as she looks me up and down. “What are you doing?”
“Going to school.” I shrug, leaning over the counter to grab an apple from our fruit bowl.
“What? Why would you be going to school? Your brother just die—”
“Still have to get good grades. Basketball is just around the corner,” I say, not listening to what she was saying.
My mother begins to rant incoherently, talking about how Kyle was dead and how we need to stick together and mourn, but I’m already hiking my backpack over my shoulder. I walk over and kiss my mom on the forehead; however, she doesn’t stop trying to convince me to stay.
“Love you, Mom,” I mumble and run out of the house before she physically locks me in the house.
I understand why she wants me to stay home. But Kyle wants me to be a professional basketball player. He wants me to get good grades and take our team to State again this year. This is what he wants.
I climb into my Jeep Wrangler. The top is still off from the summer, so the wind blows viciously as I drive to school, parking in the middle of the lot. Students chat as they walk into the building, many of the girls holding Starbucks cups from the local shop just down the street. Rolling my eyes, I hop out of the car and walk toward the school.
I feel numerous eyes on me, all wide with shock and sorrow. I ignore them, hurrying to my locker where I know Mikey and Tyler will be waiting. We always meet at my locker in the morning.
Tyler is there, leaning against the lockers with his arms crossed over his chest. His chestnut brown hair hangs in front of his eyes, and when he hears me approaching, he looks up. “Oh shit,” he mumbles. I arch an eyebrow and quickly twist the dial on my locker. “You’re here.”
“Observant as always, Tyler.” I give him a clap on the shoulder, tossing him a smile.
“W-what are you doing here? You should be home…” I shake my head, grabbing my Government book and a few notebooks.
“I’m fine. I need to be here.” I look around the hall, my eyebrows furrowed. “Where’s Mikey?”
Tyler scratches the back of his neck. “Home. Hasn’t been here since the funeral. I wouldn’t be either if my grades were as good as his. So again, why the hell are you here, Dallas?”
I scoff. Of course Mikey is home. He was always close with Kyle. I think he looked at him as a little brother. So did Tyler. Perhaps they were better brothers than I ever was…
“Basketball,” I reply.
“Dallas!” someone yells. I roll my head to the side and put on my brightest smile as Ashley bounds down the hall, giggling. She throws her arms around my neck. “Welcome back, baby. We’ve missed you!” Ashley’s blonde hair tickles my nose as she clings to me. I gently push her back, and she instantly places a kiss to my lips.
“I’ve missed you too,” I lie. I totally forgot about Ashley while I was gone. After the funeral, I haven’t seen her, and she never once crossed my mind. I felt a little guilty about it but decided to brush the thought away.
“Come on. We’re gonna be late,” Tyler mutters, hitting my arm, and the three of us walk to Government class, my arm slung over Ashley’s shoulders. She’s smiling widely, not knowing that I will soon be breaking off whatever it is we have going on.
I honestly don’t want to date anyone right now. I need to focus on basketball and getting to the NCAA. Having a girlfriend will definitely keep me back.
“Does anyone know what Pavlov’s Theory is?” Mrs. White asks.
The class is silent as I lean back against my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. Psychology is one of my favorite classes; however, I have no idea what she’s talking about. I clearly missed a lot while I was away.
“Classical conditioning.” Everyone turns to the quiet voice in the back of the room. My eyes narrow in on Kayla Williams, the mousy girl who tutored Kyle. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail as usual, and she’s wearing a large sweatshirt and a pair of faded flare jeans with red Chuck Taylors. “It was where he tested dogs…if they would salivate from the ring of a bell.”
“Correct.” Everyone turns back to the teacher; however, I keep my eyes glued on Kayla.
I always wondered why Kyle liked her. He would come home, talking about how nice and pretty his tutor was. I just never saw it. And when he claimed she beat him in basketball, I was almost offended. She beat my brother, the boy crafted from my own skill? It’s almost as if she beat me, and I was not okay with it. No girl will beat the Perkins brothers.
As if feeling my eyes on her, she lifts her head, and her hazel eyes meet mine. I tense for a moment before I turn away.
I curse myself for mentally agreeing with Kyle. She was sort of pretty.
Tyler sits beside me at the lunch table, chowing on his slice of pizza. I play with my plate full of grapes as I stare down at the table. Neither of us have spoken, only enjoying each other’s presence. Ashley is talking obnoxiously about her weekend, getting a mani-pedi with her best friend, Shannon.
I glance over at Ashley, wondering how I will be able to break the news to her. I have broken many girls’ hearts before. But I’m not in the mood to see anymore tears.
Shaking my head, I promise myself I’ll do it tomorrow. I pop a green grape in my mouth and gaze across the cafeteria, my eyes landing on a familiar face. She’s sitting with her best friend…I can’t remember her name…Anna? Annie? Haley? I mentally shrug as I watch Kayla bite the tip of her pointer finger as her eyes slide across the page of her book.
Her facial expressions tell me exactly what is happening in the book. There is a mixture of happiness and comedy as her face lights up.
Occasionally, she lifts her eyes to look at her friend and grin, laughing at the joke. I come to the conclusion that she has a great smile.
I bite the inside of my cheek, silently punishing myself for thinking that. I don’t know why, but I feel as if I should hate her with everything inside me. Aside from me, Kayla was the closest person to Kyle. Maybe even more so than Mikey and Tyler.
Kyle told Kayla things he would never tell me. I know because he always left her house with a smile, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He always seemed overly happy with her, and I envied their relationship.
That is why I requested September 5th off. To spend time with my brother and rekindle our relationship. I did it because I was jealous of Kayla. Kyle is dead because I was jealous of a girl.
I growl and stand from the table, marching over to Kayla’s table. When I get there, I call her name.
She only holds up a finger. “One minute,” she whispers, continuing on with her reading. I grit my teeth, shuffling on my feet. When she’s done, she closes the book gently and looks up at me, her beautiful eyes meeting mine. “Dallas,” she greets, offering a sympathetic smile. “How’s your mom?”
I’m taken back by her question, yet I don’t let it get in the way. She needs to know. “It’s your fault,” I say.
Kayla’s eyes widen as she slightly tilts her head. “What do you mean?” Her voice is soft, gentle, begging me to be nice to her.
“It’s your fault he’s dead.” I keep my face hard, glaring at her, as if I am glaring into her soul.
Kayla seems to stiffen at my words, her mouth gaping as she looks me up and down. “I-I’m so sorry, Dallas. I didn’t mean any harm.”
“You just had to play basketball with him, didn’t you? You couldn’t leave the one thing my brother and I had to us, could you? You had to steal him from me!”
“No. No, Dallas. Your brother loved you so much. He idolized you!” she says, trying desperately to calm me, to help me. Why isn’t she livid or hurt? Why is she accepting everything I am saying?
“I hate you.”
“That’s enough. I think you should leave.” I look over to see Annie/Anna/Haley rising to stand in from of me, blocking my view of Kayla. “There’s been enough heartbreak. No need to harm anyone else, okay, Dallas?”
I squint at her before I shake my head and turn to walk back, only to stop on my first step and turn to Kayla. “Next time you take Kyle to play basketball, I’m coming with. So I can prove the Perkins don’t lose. Especially not to a girl.”
Without another word, I go back to Tyler, sitting beside him. He raises his eyebrows, giving me a silent question; however, I don’t respond. I only shake my head and pop another grape in my mouth.
I look at Kayla again from across the cafeteria to see her swipe a hand under her eye. She shakes her head and says something to her friend before she stands up and exits the cafeteria. When she walks past me, I can hear a gentle sob leave her lips.
I can’t help but hate myself for making her cry. But why?
The basketball courts are quiet. The night is cool as I step onto the asphalt, moving to center court. I drop down and sit on the cool ground, wrapping my arms around my knees as I feel tears blur my vision. I look up at the basketball hoop and bite my bottom lip.
Ever since Kyle was seven, we have been coming to these courts to train him to become a huge basketball star. After six years, it’s all gone just like that. By one gunshot, one second. Everything can change in one moment.
My brother will never play basketball at Waubonsie. He will never know what it feels like to win a basketball game. He will never fall in love or get his first kiss. Kyle will never go to Homecoming or Prom. Will never get married or have his own son to teach basketball to. I will never again have a brother to grow up with.
It was all lost that night.
And no matter how irrational it is, I blame Kayla. I hate her for what she has done. She practically forces me to bring him back, to show him that I was still his brother and that I cared about him more than she ever could.