Page 1 of Let It Be Me
1
SARAH
“Sarah!” A voice called out to me as soon as I pushed out of the air conditioned basketball arena to meet my parents and into the sweltering South Carolina heat. It’s nothing I’m not used to, but after having my body chilled to the bone, this heat and humidity is a slap to the face.
“Liam. What’s up?” I asked and changed direction as I walked towards him. I noticed Kamryn, my college roommate and bestie, isn’t with him, so he either purposefully dodged her on their way out or he made up an excuse to talk to one of his former teammates.
“I want you to help me get drafted,” he pleaded, as graduates walked by us in their black gowns and colored hoods.
My eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yes, you. I have faith.”
Is his faith misplaced? I barely know anything about the business and this summer was supposed to help me learn the ropes before diving into the actual work. But, still. Is his faith in me misplaced?
“Okay,” I said slowly. “I can’t attempt to do anything until Monday.”
“No problem. Just call me when you can.”
Liam quickly hugs me and I mutter out, “Sure.” And then he’s off to find his and Kamryn’s family’s. My feet held me in place as I watched him walk away. Sweat formed on my neck and trickled down my back. Not just from the heat, but from Liam wanting me to get his name out to scouts. Excitement courses through my body and I use the diploma holder to fan myself before I go in search of my parents. The entire time as I wove my way through graduates I thought how perfect that this is the way my life could head. A sports agent.
I found my parents by the fountain and accepted their congrats while thinking about the next steps in my future. Can I do this? I mean, this is a male-dominated field. Am I good enough? I did my best to stay present while we were at dinner at some fancy steakhouse. My parents were talking excitedly about me moving back home. But as I was pushing the mashed potatoes around on my plate, I couldn’t stop thinking about Liam and his asking me to help him succeed, and how utterly sick to my stomach I feel at the mention of moving back home.
I stumbleover my feet as the memory hits me out of nowhere. I pick up my pace trying to outrun that part of my life. Sweat forms on my forehead and trickles down my face while also sliding down my back.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
One foot in front of the other.
An uptempo EDM track flows from one ear to the other through my headphones as I pump my arms and feel thestretch in my burning legs when I see my driveway come into view from the end of the street.
My watch vibrates and I look down seeing I’ve done ten miles in under two hours. It beats my last personal record, but maybe that’s because the memories of the past made themselves known today of all days.
Run.
Run.
Run.
The truth is that I have been running. Not only in the physical sense, but in the metaphorical sense as well. It’s been two years of growth. Pain, too, if I’m being honest. Because you can’t grow without pain and if it’s one thing I’ve learned, is that growth is painful. And that eventually the painful memories run up to catch you.
I’min the break room at the office, pouring a cup of coffee, when my cell phone rings with a call from Chance, one of Liam’s best friends in college.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask into the phone that’s wedged between my shoulder and ear. Nothing greets me from the other end and I pull my phone from my ear to see that I’m still connected. “Chance?”
He lets out a breath. “There’s been an accident.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Liam. He uh…Sarah he died last night.”
The coffee mug I’m holding falls out of my hand and shatters on the floor. My boss flies into the break room and stops short when he must see the distraught look on my face.
