Page 111 of Hate You, Maybe
“And that’s why you still have him now?”
He ducks his head, shy. “My mom really did slip him in my suitcase when I went to college. And afterward, I wasn’t exactly gonna keep him out on my bed, but I didn’t want to stick him somewhere I’d forget him again either. So I brought him to school with me.” He takes a beat. “Every time I go searching for something in that old filing cabinet, I get a little boost.” One corner of his lips turns up again. “Everything I’ve told you was the truth, I just didn’t tell you thewholetruth.”
“You didn’t have to,” I assure him. “You don’t owe me any explanations. Ever.”
“But I want to tell you everything,” he says. “Because it’s all part of why I won’t leave Stony Peak.”
He rises, like his body can’t stay still in the wake of all these memories. I stand too and follow him out into the main living area.
Framed posters of great moments in sports history hang on the walls. There’s a succulent on a bistro table and a potted ficus in the corner. Dex steers me over to the sofa, and we sink onto the cushions next to each other.
“You can tell me now, but only if you want to.” I say this because I think he needs to get the story out, more than I need to understand.
“Our family moved here to Harvest Hollow, after …” His voice trails off.
AfterClara.The unspoken end to the sentence.
“I’m sure leaving that old house was tough on my mom and dad,” he says, “but the rest of us kids weren’t doing so great, so they brought us here. For a fresh start and all. We started going to all the Stony Peak football games and musicals and concerts as a family. At first, that stuff was a distraction. But also, we needed some joy back in our lives. No one ever wanted to forget … but sometimes, we had to put down the sadness.”
“And choose happiness?”
“That’s who the Michaelses became.” He bobs his head. “It’s who we still are. But after some therapy back then, I never talked about the who—or the why—with anyone again. I think a part of me was afraid to share what happened because I’d have less of her somehow. Like little pieces chipping away every time I opened my mouth. So Bridger doesn’t know. Neither does anyone from high school or college.”
“Not your guys with the shoulder tattoos?”
“Nope.” He touches the part of his arm with Clara’s moon. “But I have the tattoo. And I have her bear. Those are connections I’ll never lose. And maybe none of these reasons makes sense, but what can I say? Holding her story in became a habit. The thing I carry on my own.”
“It makes total sense,” I say. “At least to me.”
“Hmm.” He’s quiet for a moment before he goes on. “Once we moved here and started going to the games, all I dreamed about was playing for the Squirrels. Kendal and Landry felt the same. Not so much Jojo. In her defense, she was six. She hadn’t really started dreaming yet.” This pulls another small smile from him. “The rest of us joined as many teams as we could, though. Every sport. Every season. Wekept busy. We kept living. We kept our parents going.” He pauses to meet my gaze again. “So.”
“So. All your memories from that time are wrapped up in Stony Peak sports.”
“Yes.”
“The school healed you.”
“Yes.”
I press a palm to his knee. “Then of course you can’t leave, Dex.”
“I’m sorry, Sayla.” His eyes go glassy.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m so glad you told me. I’ve got a whole new appreciation for what sports did for you. What athletics can do for kids, in general. I’ve been so focused on trying to get everyone to understand how important my department is, I wasn’t fully listening to you.”
“You’re listening now.”
“You listened first.”
“I’d do anything for you, Kroft.” He draws in a long breath, his gaze still pleading with me. “Well. Almost anything.”
“I know,” I say. “You even tried giving up the FRIG for me.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“And that had to be theonetime you didn’t succeed at something.”
A low breath of laughter slips out of him, and I’m relieved by the release. I was so unprepared for this moment between us, I can’t help feeling like I’m totally flailing. Then again, Dex says he likes my whelm. Maybe I’m finally the right amount of enough for someone. Maybe we can be that for each other.
