Hey, Tanner. It's me again. Just checking in; I'll try to keep this short.
Really missed you at our last game. Tony couldn't catch any ball at all. Coach even asked him if he needed glasses, he was really worried about his depth perception being off or something. He's a great runner, so we wanted him, but man he stumbles so much. I was so disappointed to see him that I almost slipped and said that word again. You know, that word you always tell people not to say.
I, uh, don't talk like that anymore. In case you're wondering. Made a decision, when everything...yeah.
I think I left a lot of stuff behind that day.
...Sorry, uh...allergies, you know how it is. I remember our first meeting in fifth grade in September. I was shooting in front of the school, and you came up to me and tried to give me this yellow flower. Chrysanthemum. I only know it because you told me what it was called. You said it meant happiness and friendship. I said it meant that you...I don't know. I don't think I knew the word at the time, but if I did I might have said it.
I think that was our whole relationship until you joined the team freshman year, right?
After that we were good though. I mean, you were one of those guys. We all...I thought of you as a friend, even though I was hard on you even when I didn't have to be. It's just a game. But it's more than that, right? I mean, remember when you caught a pass I threw during the last few seconds of the game against Hamilton West?
It had been raining all day, and the field was so muddy you couldn't tell the color of anybody's shoes. It was a home game, almost tied, and it all came down to that last play in overtime. Everybody was tired, even the crowd was tired, but they were still cheering for us. Verona Mackenzie was holding up this big sign. I don't remember what was written on it, but I remember looking at it and realizing we had to accomplish something.
But I messed up on that last pass. I knew it the moment the ball left my hand. I could tell the rain messed up my grip, but I think I was overconfident. I remember spinning that ball like it was in slow-mo, I knew I threw it wrong and it was going to land a mile away from you. I remember thinking that was it; I lost the game for us.
And then you—you crazy bastard, ran up for my terrible pass. It's like you never doubted me, never doubted my pass, just kept going with it because we had to win a game. And we won it. You caught that terrible, bad pass and ran it back down the field. I saw you dodge the Hamilton defense; you used the mud to slip past them like a ghost. Before anyone knew what happened, you were in the endzone.
That moment, when the crowd started roaring and clapping in the stands, and we all ran onto the field and hugged you, I hope you felt the same way I did. I hope you were so happy you thought your chest would explode. I hope you felt like a titan, like the king of the whole world. I think you did. You were smiling so big, I'm sure they saw it on Mars.
Yeah. It was a good night.
It can't last long, though, can it? No good thing ever lasts. You seem to know that more than anyone.
I don't remember where I first heard the rumor. It's funny how it works, isn't it? We all started joking about it collectively. And you laughed with us—of course you laughed. You didn't want to seem too serious about it. It should have stopped there. I should have said something- I should have said something. When people outside the team brought it up, I should have intervened.
I dream about it sometimes. That moment in the cafeteria. I think you tapped Henry on the shoulder or something, because you wanted him to move on. And he yelled at you, said things like that in front of the whole school.
I think he- I don't think Henry meant to say it that loud. Or- no, it doesn't matter, does it?
People started laughing, and- oh my god, you looked scared. Hurt. Angry. You just stood there with your red plastic tray like there was some freaking spotlight on you. Your fingers were so white. I don't know what was going on in your mind, but you looked exactly like you did all those years ago when I knocked the chrysanthemum out of your hand.
In my dreams, I always wake up. I yell at them, at the whole crowd. I say, What's wrong with you all? Or sometimes I grab your shoulder, and we walk away together. I think one time I dreamed I punched Henry in the face and told him to get over himself.
I wish I had done something like that. I wish I knew then. I could have, if I had taken a moment to think. But I didn't.
I sat on my ass and laughed at you.
Everything went downhill so fast from there. I wish I had done something...really. Talked to you, stood up for you, asked where your mind was.
I've thought a lot about why I didn't do it. Think, it really depends on one thing. It started out as a joke, right, and it made people laugh and feel good, and at first I didn't want to ruin it for everyone. And then when things got worse...
I remember after Adam and Trent went through your locker with Sharpie. I could...I don't know, find a janitor? Write everything over to make it readable? Something, just carried on like it was all invisible to me. Like you were invisible to me.
You weren't. I saw you struggle. You were never the cool kid; you always had something to say. You were good with people in a way I never was. But suddenly you were quiet, just distant from everyone and everything. I remember when you stopped coming to practice, I felt so bad for you, but...
I was scared. I thought if I said anything, did anything, they would all turn on me too. I couldn't...
No. That's not true. I could have helped anyway, but I didn't.
I just remembered—freshman year, one of our first practices with the team. It was really hot, like the heat was going to last the whole season. Coach made us run until I felt like I was going to vomit. And then I was shaking all over, and I couldn't lift the tire we use for strength training. All the upperclassmen were making fun of me for that. It hurt me, and I didn't say anything because I didn't want to look even weaker than I already was.
But you jumped right in, told them to stop it. Sounds like you said something like, what do you think the word 'practice' means, huh? It means we're here to get better.
I can't believe I forgot about that.
You were always braver than all of us. If anyone else was targeted like you were, you would have been there for them. I truly believe that. It makes it worse that we weren't there for you.
I said I'd keep this short, right? And here I am, telling you what I should have done differently. I just meant to give you some updates.
Let's see, uh...our team trip to Europe was fun, I guess. Do you know that in France, they let kids drink alcohol? We were all drunk. I don't even like alcohol, but in France, right? We got back to the hotel and we were all lying on the floor in the dark like we were looking at the stars or something.
It was great. Just lying in the dark, head still spinning a little bit, still getting that sour taste in the back of my throat. We talked about things, things you can't say to your friends when it's still light. Dreams and where we're going and things like that.
I think we all felt you. Like if we just didn't look, you'd be with us. Chris started crying; no one had to ask why. And no one called him out on it, like we would have done a year ago. I hugged him. No one called him out.
I feel like you're still with us in so many ways. Sometimes, there's this heaviness, this terrible weight. Sometimes, there's this you-sized gap in conversations, or we accidentally leave room for you on the bench.
I always think about you, then. And I think—or at least, I think you make me braver. I know other people feel the same way.
Melissa came to the senior prom with Verona. They've been dating, probably for a while. You probably already know that, think about it.
They both looked great together in these beautiful dresses. Melissa had a dark blue dress, and Verona wore a dress that looked like a sunset. I'm no artist, but I think they must have picked them out together, made sure the colors looked similar. They looked good. Happy. And a little sad, too, because I know they both miss you so much.
I told them to let me know if anyone cursed them out. I already corrected a few people—Adam was asking them pointed questions, as usual, so I grabbed his collar and pulled him out of the room. Told him if he couldn't keep his mouth shut, I'd shut up for him. He laughed at me, but he didn't bother Melissa and Verona all night. Call it a win.
I talked to Mr. Edelman when I went to get my yearbook signed—next year, he's going to host the LTB-LGT- gay rights club. I think it's going to be a different kind of school next year. I wish I could stay to see it. I wish you could see it, too.
Your mom and dad came to graduation. I don't know if I've ever seen a man break down like your dad did. I hope I never have to do that again. When they held a moment of silence, you could hear that he was trying to compose himself. I remember that minute like it was a year. Like the silence was louder than the applause.
They let me give a speech. I don't know whose great idea it was, but I felt it was my duty to finally say something. The right thing.
People told me afterward that it was good. Your mom even thanked me for it. I don't know...I don't know if I made a difference. But maybe there was someone like you in the audience, someone who doesn't really fit in. Not because they're wrong or broken, but because there are pieces around them. I don't think there was a single person on Earth who would want that, but put us together and you start to see all the ugly aspects. Does that make sense?
I hope it makes sense. And I hope that wherever you are, you know that you mean something. To all of us. Even though we did a really poor job of showing it when you were still around.
But we will be better. I'll get better. I'm going to university, and I'm going to learn all the things I need to help kids who are fighting against the odds. I don't have great plans yet, I don't know if I'll be a teacher or guidance counselor or what. But I won't let you down again.
Before I go...I wanted to give you these. Yellow chrysanthemums, remember? For happiness and friendship.
It's weird, though...the florist told me they mean grief and remorse. I looked it up online, and you're both right. Isn't it weird how one flower can mean so many opposite things? And you'd never know by looking at it.
I got to thinking about all those moments in our lives when we do something, or don't do something, without knowing what it really means. One little thing can mean nothing to me, and everything to you. Sometimes I don't realize it until later. Sometimes I never even know.
But sometimes I feel it, right? Sometimes I get these moments of clarity, like my mind is taking a picture. Like even if everyone else forgets what I do next, I'll still remember it.
I'll remember this for the rest of my life.
An incomplete friendship story