All This Time(4)



The rain on the other side of the glass comes down even harder now.

“Tell me,” I say again as I slip my hand into hers, just like I have so many times. I look at her wrist and think of the bracelet in my jacket pocket, the pages of that small silver diary spelling out “I U.”

But then I see her start to do that fidgety thing she does just before she tells me something I’m not going to like. I brace myself as she finally straightens and looks me dead in the eyes. The downpour of rain washes out every voice in the room but hers as the truth finally comes out.



* * *




“Kyle!” I hear Kim’s voice call out from behind me as the drops loudly beat onto the metal roof of the front portico.

How could she?

It keeps repeating in my head as I make my way down the steps. I’m already handing my ticket to the valet when Kimberly comes running out after me. I ignore her.

“Wait, Kyle, please,” she says, reaching for my arm.

The instant her fingers touch me, my instinct is to lean into her, but I pull away and grab my keys from the valet as I step out into the rain. “Don’t bother. I got it.”

She follows me, trying to give me an explanation that I don’t want to fucking hear. If she really wanted to explain, she should have done it long before now instead of blindsiding me the day of our graduation.

“I should have told you, but I didn’t want to hurt you—”

Lightning cracks across the sky again and a loud clap of thunder silences her before I even have to say anything. I spin around to look at her. Her dress is soaked completely through, and her hair is now hanging dull and limp around her face.

“Didn’t want to hurt me?” I laugh. “By sneaking around behind my back? Sharing secrets with my best friend—”

“Sam’s my best friend too.”

“You lied to my face, Kimberly. For months.” I unlock my car door and rip it open so hard it almost swings back. “Consider me hurt.”

I get in the car and slam the door.

Berkeley. The word echoes around my head, every syllable a fresh stab of betrayal.

Berkeley. Berkeley.

She applied and she didn’t even tell me. She sent in supplemental essays and updated transcripts, and got in months ago, and she just sat there pretending. Pretending while we picked out dorms and classes and talked about road trips home for breaks, knowing all along she was never going to go to UCLA.

She told Sam.

Why didn’t she tell me?

I’m ready to get out of here, but she slides into the passenger side before I can pull the gearshift out of park. I pause for a moment, wanting to tell her to get out, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

We have to figure this out. The bracelet is still in my pocket.

I put my foot down on the gas and we take off through the parking lot and out onto the main road, the wheels sliding on the wet ground as we turn.

“Kyle!” she says, clicking her seat belt into place. “Slow down.”

I flick my windshield wipers on to the fastest setting, but it’s still not fast enough for the sheets of rain pummeling the now-fogging glass.

“This makes no sense. We’ve been planning all year. You, me, Sam. Our plans.” I reach up, swiping at the condensation to make a space big enough to see. My fingers hit the tiny disco ball slung around my rearview mirror, sending it swinging. It does make sense, though, in a Kimberly kind of way. I think of all the times she’s changed her mind at the last minute, leaving me and Sam hanging. Like when she ditched our freshman-year formal to hang out with the varsity cheerleaders, or dropped us in the middle of a group final to work with the valedictorian instead. Moments I bury deep until we’re fighting, like now. “You just decide, ‘Screw it! I’ll do what I want.’ Just like you always do.”

There’s a clap of thunder, and the lightning that follows reflects off the glittering silver of the ball, scattering it all around the car.

“What I want? I never do what I want. If you just listen to me for five freaking seconds.” She stops talking as we whiz past the street to my house, her head turning as it fades away. “You missed the turn!”

“I’m going to the pond,” I say. I just keep thinking if I can get us there, I can salvage this night. I can salvage this.

“Stop. No, you’re not. The pond will be an ocean right now. Just turn around.”

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?” I ask, ignoring her. A tractor trailer barrels past us, sending a shower of water onto our windshield. I grip the steering wheel tighter, slowing down to steady the car. “You must have been. Kim, you could’ve just said you wanted to go to Berkeley, not UCLA. It’s not like I have the football scholarship anymore. I don’t care where we go, as long as we’re togeth—”

“I don’t want to be together!”

The words slap me right across the face. I jerk my eyes from the road to look at her, this girl I’ve loved since third grade. I don’t even recognize her right now.

We’ve “broken up” plenty of times in the past, but not like this. Small, dramatic fights that are over the next day like a stomach virus. She’s never said that.

“I mean…” She stops and her eyes turn away from me, widening. “Kyle!”

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