I look over to my desk, eyeing that same purple football placed on my trophy shelf. It’s the only thing on that shelf that really matters to me anymore. It’s the reason why I keep pushingmyself and working my hardest every single day. Even when I feel like I just want to give up. I do it for her. For Soph.
I throw myself back onto my bed before turning over to reach for my phone. It’s four twenty-eight in the morning, only about thirty minutes before my alarm is set to go off.
I was lying down in bed last night when I decided to text Cadence and shortly after, I passed out. Practice wore me out, probably because Coach Shaw suddenly decided that we need to work ten times harder this year with longer practices, as if we didn’t just spend three full weeks at a camp doing just that; training and strengthening and doing play work. But I get it, it’s offer season and in just a few short weeks, some of us will be needing to decide what college we’re going to commit to. Some of us are already committed while others are still waiting for scouts to pay us attention one last time, so it’s a big season.
But I can’t lie, having my best friend’s little sister on my mind was not supposed to be a part of the plan this year, and the last thing I need is a distraction. Though . . . last night I actually really needed just that. And maybe, when I think about it, a distraction is exactly what I need. I just know I can’t actually afford to not stay focused right now and I don't know how much of a fan I am of considering Cadence a distraction. She's more than that. And for some reason, after getting home from practice yesterday, I just couldn’t stop thinking abouther.
In fact, she’s been on my mind a lot lately. A lot more than I’d like to confess. And it’s kind of confusing me to be honest. Cadence isn’t someone I should be thinking about. She’s my best friend’s little sister, for fuck’s sake. But there’s always been something about her that tends to linger, and sometimes it’s at random moments. Especially more recently, like when we were eating dinner at her house a few weeks ago. But that time, my desire to pull my attention toward her was a little more needy than usual. I just couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off her.
She’s always been a beautiful girl, but I’m also supposed to be like a big brother to her, right? Or maybe that's the assumption because of my proximity with her brother. So I never really allowed myself to let my eyes linger for too long, even though I wanted to. But it's not just because she’s insanely pretty but because sometimes, I just can’t believe she’s real as crazy as that sounds.
There’s something unique about Cadence. Something that isn’t really common in other girls. She doesn’t notice the attention she receives and if she does, she doesn’t let it get to her. She doesn’t flaunt it around for everyone to bask in. She doesn’t feed into the whispers about her when she walks through the halls, both by the girls who hate on her for no reason and the guys who don’t dare to admit what they think of her when they bravely eye her down, because Brayden would kill them. Honestly, so would I. One small glance at her is enough to set me on edge, but I have to try my best to react silently. I can’t let anyone know that it bothers me that she has other eyes on her too.
Cadence is too reserved to show her confidence, but too extroverted to be silent about things she cares about. But she’s also pretty oblivious to what she does when she walks into a room; lights it up like the fucking sun on a dark winter night, something that I haven’t ever been able to ignore ever. She’s the most genuine person I’ve ever met, her laugh is that kind of dorky-cute, and her heart is far too damn big for a world as fucked as the one we live in. But most people love her, despite the girls who are jealous over someone who has the kind of quiet confidence she possesses. And while she rounds out to be the most damn near perfect girl, I can’t let her get to me.
But this past year, I’ve been finding myself wanting to look at her more and more. To hear her laugh a little louder, to be close to her more than usual. But it’s a dangerous idea. It reallyis. And that day, when I ran into her by her back door after we got back from camp, I just couldn’t help it. I was so close to her. She smelled like summer; sunscreen and salt water. I noticed at that moment, she’s not a little girl anymore and I decided that I wanted to stop treating her like one, but then I remember that doing so opens up that realm of possibility, allowing her to have more of my attention and in turn, risking heartbreak. Because that’s what’s bound to happen, I will break her heart. If she doesn’t break mine first. And I just don’t have it in me to let anyone else in. I’m not all put together as I pretend to be and it's only a recipe for disaster.
When she texted me looking for Bray that night, it was like she read my mind. It’s like she knew I had been thinking about her. Something I know I shouldn’t indulge in. If not for any other reason other than the fact that her brother would kill me if I ever let anything happen to her.
Brayden and I made a promise to look out for each other, and that pact included Cadie. After Sophie died, it was something we talked about a lot. I couldn’t imagine my best friend going through anything like what I’d gone through, and I know how much Cadie means to Bray.
Brayden doesn’t take many things seriously. His sister is the rare exception. And after having a heartfelt conversation about taking care of each other, because my mental health had slowly started to decline during that time, he subtly snuck in a casual,“And don’t sleep with my sister,”before slapping me on the back and walking away. Though, the warning doesn’t just apply to me, it extends to the whole fucking school really. Both because he’s made it known and because, secretly, I will fucking make sure of it. He doesn’t need to tell me to keep an eye on the girl. I’ve already had that taken care of for as long as I can remember. And if she or Bray knew some of the things I’ve had to do behind thescenes to make sure she didn’t end up in the wrong hands, they’d both lose their minds.
Just one of the few little secrets I’ve been holding onto.
Some are a little bigger than others. Another being that Cadence was the one who made me feel welcome first. She was the first person to talk to me, the first person to look at me and not like I was some kind of mute freak. She’s the one who made me feel comfortable enough to open up, so it’s safe to say that she means a lot to me too.
The point is that neither she nor Brayden knows just how important she was at that point in my life and how included she made me feel. It’s why I feel like I owe her. Why when I see her red hair bounce around her shoulders when she laughs her quirky little laugh, I feel obligated to her, to protect her. It's why when she tells a joke and no one laughs, I laugh, and I do actually find her kind of funny. Why when she looks at me, I feel like the world kind of pauses. Like peace can actually exist again. I only ever get that feeling with one other thing in the world and that’s the football field. But Cadence is not a game I want to play, she’s a missing piece to the puzzle, but she’s a piece I refuse to put into place fully. She was there for me when not very many people wanted to be, and it’s why I can’t help but think about her from time to time. But I know that letting her in gives me room to hurt her, to lose her. It gives her room to hurt me. To ruin the very last piece of happiness I have left, or for me to destroy hers. So keeping her at a distance feels safer. It’s the right thing to do.
But it’s not what I really want.
I unlock my phone, seeing that I have thirty-four new Instagram notifications. I never pay attention to them because it’s always the same stuff—girls from school spamming my posts. It gets annoying. But from time to time, I like to clear out the notifications and check in on my favorite sports teams. But whenI get logged in, an unfamiliar name yet a very familiar profile picture is sitting at the top of my notifications.
@callmecadie liked your post 8 hrs ago
It was a post from three months ago.
“She was creeping,” I whisper to myself with a smirk lit up on my face as I sit up in my bed. I click on the notification, but instead of taking me to the post, another notification appears.
content unavailable
She must have unliked it. Which means she really was creeping and it was likely an accidental like. I chuckle, thinking about her in that moment, scrolling through my posts and accidentally pressing on the heart button.
My smirk widens into a full-blown smile and I can’t help but picture how cute her reaction must have been when she realized what she had done. I click back to the main screen, and that’s when I see a little green circle illuminate in the corner of her profile picture. She’s online. I click on her page and decide to take a peek at her content and what she has posted. Because admittedly, I have never been on her page before. It’s too much of a risk. And what I find does not help the conflicting thoughts of her I have going on in my head.
Blurred out photos of her in the passenger seat of a car, hands out and hair blowing in the wind. Another with her and Ryen clinking two vintage Diet Pepsi bottles together. There’s more of her with her camera wrapped around her neck, others with her in just her bathing suit out at a bonfire. One specifically from just a few weeks ago, while I was away.
But my favorite photo? The one where it’s just her, smiling a soft smile with her eyes pulled up to the camera with a giant sunflower close to her face, as if she’s smelling it. Her freckles glow in the golden light and her green-blue eyes are as bright asthey’ve ever been. And that’s when I notice the bracelet on her wrist. It matches the sunflower and the oranges in her summer dress. A friendship bracelet my sister made her years ago.
I like the photo, not ashamed of what will happen if she sees it or caring if she realizes that I too was creeping on her page.
I see the little green light on her profile picture disappear, so I jump over to our text thread and type out a text.
Hey you. Good morning. Sorry I didn’t text you last night after dinner. I feel asleep.
The text dots start to flutter immediately, indicating a response is in the works. I watch and wait.
Good morning, Zach and no worries, I kinda figured. But I hope you slept well.
