Page 69 of Follow My Voice
“Are you coming to Kyle’s party?” Kyle is her boyfriend, another soccer player, who I know well.
“No.”
Lizzie scoffs. “You’re so boring. You never go to parties! You’re twenty-one, you can legally drink, and you’re missing all the fun.”
“If by fun you mean alcohol, I don’t think I’m missing much.”
Lizzie rolls her eyes. “You act like an old man—are you secretly like thirty?”
“Don’t tell anyone,” I say, raising a finger to my lips as if dismayed over having my secret discovered.
Lizzie swats at my hand and starts walking away. “If you change your mind, you know where we’ll be.”
I watch her move away, waving and smiling to everyone she passes. She was my first love—the first person to set my heart racing, the first girl I wrote love letters to, the girl I dedicated songs to on the radio, hoping she was listening. She stuck by my side when my brother had the accident, when he got out of the hospital, when he took his own life. Lizzie was always there. I was in love with her, but she didn’t feel the same way. When I told her how I felt, she gently explained that she was in love with Kyle. There were a few awkward months, but then we resumed our friendship as if nothing had happened.
It was hard for me to see her every day, have her always beside me, without being able to touch her and tell her how I still felt. But I made it through and now I only feel affection for her. Sometimes I wonder if I was really in love with Lizzie or if I just wanted her because I couldn’t have her… Anyway, being rejected was too painful, and for a long time, it made me believe I didn’t want to fall in love ever again.
I walk back in front of the bleachers, scanning the thinning crowd, until, finally, I seeher.
Klara.
She’s sitting in the stands wearing light-washed jeans and that black hoodie I’ve told her so many times she doesn’t need to hide beneath. Her short black hair frames her face. At first glance, she looks so fragile, but she’s actually incredibly strong. From the brightness and depth of her eyes, I can tell that she has been through a lot for someone her age, wise beyond her years.
And her smile…
Her entire face lights up when she smiles, so dazzling that I have to look away because it sets my heart racing. If she saw herself through my eyes, she wouldn’t wear that hoodie anymore; she wouldn’t hide. She is so beautiful, on a level that transcends the physical. I love the sparkle in her eyes, the warmth in her smile, her soothing voice.
I stand in front of the bleachers and stare at her—an action that has become out of my control—letting people push past me, some waving or murmuring hello. Klara talks with Perla. I put my hand on my chest to slow the desperate beating of my heart. I know she hasn’t seen me, so I allow myself to observe her, not looking away for a second when she smiles. The redheaded guy sits down next to her and I feel a pang of jealousy.
Why is he always with her? The first time I saw them together, he hugged her and she looked so comfortable in his arms that I couldn’t help but feel hurt. Klara has been so closed off with me. I’ve had such a hard time getting the little information I have about her, and seeing her embrace him so readily was painful to watch. I apologized for my immaturity and things were going well until I asked to drive her home from campus at a time I needed her company the most. She agreed at first, but then—and I still don’t know why—she changed her mind. To make matters worse, after class, I saw her leaving with the redheaded dude.
I was too upset to talk to her, even though I knew I couldn’t say anything about the fact that she chose to ride home with him over me. Klara and I are just friends. What is it about her? I wasn’t jealous or controlling with Lizzie, which is why it’s so strange that the idea of her liking that other guy makes me go crazy and act immature. So I stopped texting her and I ignored her in the hallway. But then I felt guilty for being so childish, so I gave her tickets to a game, acting all cool and unbothered. She didn’t show up, and I wasted more time being upset with her. What I should’ve done was ask her straight out if she liked that guy. I guess I’m afraid she’ll tell me she’s in love with him. I still remember Lizzie’s pitying expression when she told me she liked Kyle. I can’t go through that again, which is why I pushed Klara away even more, pretending I was busy with practice or this and that. To be fair, I become distant with everyone around this time of year. It’s a hard month for my family and me, as we add another year without Jung.
“Kang!”
I silently curse whoever just shouted my name because it causes Klara to look at me, and I turn around as fast as I can so that she doesn’t notice I was standing there staring at her like the stalker we once joked about me being.
“What a goal!” Yana says, putting her arms around me.
“Hey, thanks,” I reply with a friendly smile, trying not to overdo it. I know she has feelings for me—she practically confesses them every time she sends a message to the show. I just wish she’d get the hint I’m not interested and never will be.
“Are you going to the party?” she asks excitedly, gripping my arm. “I don’t have anyone to go with. Can I ride with you?”
“I’m not going.”
“Why not?” She pouts.
“I’m tired.”
“Oh, of course, the game…”
“I gotta go,” I say, as I begin walking to the parking lot.
Once inside my car, I rest my forehead on the steering wheel, when I’m suddenly startled by a knock on the window, and I glance up. It’s the redheaded asshole. As I lower the window, I can’t help but shoot daggers at him.
“Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Diego.” He holds out his hand and I reluctantly shake it.
