Page 50 of The Wrong Quarterback

Maybe it was because I’d stopped having anything to say, since every day at home felt like I was trapped in a mausoleum.

Today I needed to see him, though. I needed to remember. I’d driven here as soon as I’d gotten out of class.

I finally reached his plot. The headstone was simple and straightforward, not nearly enough to capture the spark of light that Ben had been in real life. I stood there, swallowing that knot in my throat, feeling that familiar ache creep up.

“Hey, Ben,” I murmured, my voice rough and miserable. “It’s been a while. I’m sorry about that.” The words hung in the air, swallowing the quiet around me. I hated that it felt so awkward.

But I also hated that I had to be here to talk to him at all.

I slid to the ground, my arms wrapping around my knees as the wind stirred the leaves around me. “I wonder when this will get easier. People always say that time heals all wounds, but I’m pretty sure they’re full of shit.”

I laid my head on my legs as a fresh beat of pain arched through me—because he would always laugh at how goofy I sounded when I tried to curse.

“Gray said something to me, you know,” I said, kicking at the grass with the toe of my shoe. “He said…he thinks you’d want us to be together. Me and him. But I’m not so sure that’s true.” A tear rolled down my face. “I don’t know what you’d want. I just know that I miss you.”

Another tear fell down my skin. And then another.

“I feel like I’m forgetting you,” I whispered. “I can’t hear your laugh anymore. The way that you smiled is fading from my memories unless I look at a photograph.” A hiccuped sob lurched from my mouth. “And I’m so afraid of the day that it’s all gone, you know? Because you deserve to be remembered, Ben. I wish the whole world could have known you, how special you were. It feels like I’m letting you down every day that goes by.” I picked at a piece of the grass in front of his headstone. “I’m angry that grass has grown here. I’m angry that so much time has passed that when I left home, there was even dust covering your bed. What happens one day when I wake up and I can’t remember you anymore? What’s going to happen then?”

The wind sighed past my cheek, and I leaned into it, wanting it to be a sign from him.

But it was just wind.

It’s alwaysjustwind.

“And it kind of feels like I’m trying to live your life…and I’m messing it all up. You would have done all of this so much better than me. You would have already had a million friends.You would have been making the most of every opportunity that came your way. You would have lived so much better than what I’m doing…”

It was hard saying those words out loud. I was ashamed of them. I’d promised myself I’d try and live this big life in honor of Ben…and here I was, failing at it miserably.

It hurt to admit that he would have done it better.

I traced the letters on the stone, lingering on his name as I tried to summon up some of the sunny memories I had with him, the ones laced with so much light that they could actually drown out the dark. Like when he taught me to swim or how he ate his Oreos so painfully slow because he considered them to be a superior food group.

Or how his hugs felt.

A smile sprung to my lips. “There you are,” I murmured as I soaked in the warm feeling I could still get from those memories.

I tapped the headstone as I stood up, the smile still on my lips. “Bye, Ben.”

The first raindrop landed on my cheek, cold and stinging. I swiped it away, but more followed, dotting the stone, turning the gray even darker. It felt like the sky was crying with me, like it understood that today was a day of mourning.

I walked away, and despite the good memories I’d been able to conjure up, it still felt like I was leaving him all alone.

And that maybe…I should be in the ground with him.

Rain soaked through my hair, dripping cold down the back of my neck and plastering my clothes to my skin as I stood shivering on the stone steps of Gray’s frat house. The thud of bass-heavy music leaked through the walls, muffled shouts and laughterhinting at the chaos inside. I clenched my phone tighter in my hand, the screen dark. He hadn’t answered any of my calls, and for some reason it had seemed like a great idea for me to come here to try and talk to him.

I was pretty sure I was a fool.

I raised my fist and knocked, the sound barely cutting through the noise. It was freezing out here. Way colder than Tennessee falls were supposed to be. My breath came out in shaky bursts, steam rising into the night air as the cold gnawed at my skin.

The door finally swung open, and a shirtless guy with a nametag with the word “Pledge” slapped across his hairy chest stumbled forward, bleary-eyed and reeking of beer. “Hey, there,” he slurred, swaying on his feet. The smirk on his face sent a shiver of disgust crawling up my spine, and I felt the urge to go take a shower and wash that smile off of me.

“Can you get Gray, please? Gray Andrews. I’m his girlfriend,” I quickly added. My voice was somehow steady, which was good. I didn’t want to cry in front of this idiot.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile growing as if what I’d said was funny. “Yeah, sure thing,” he said, turning and weaving his way back inside. The door hung open for a second, letting out a blast of humid, alcohol-saturated air before it creaked shut, leaving me alone again in the storm.

Water pooled around my feet, and I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, teeth chattering. It was literally a downpour out here tonight.

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