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with, hangs out with, and falls in love with his best friend. Yeah. I’m THAT asshole.

    I fell in love with Kendall Bethany Jacobs when I was nine years old, and I will love her until I take my last breath on this Earth. People might say that’s too young to know what love is. What it really means. I was slow if you ask me. I should have fallen for her long before that.

    Kendall is magnificent. She always has been. Always will be. People can’t help falling in love with her. A small amount of time in her presence and you’re hooked. When we were young I wanted to pick her up and put her in my pocket. She’s such a tiny little thing. It made me want to protect her from everything, and everyone. For the most part I did. Well until it was time to protect her from me.

    The day I knew I was in love with my best friend was the day she fell from the Oak tree in the club house courtyard and broke her arm. We were climbing up to escape the sun, and all the younger kids chasing after us. Kendall was always such a sweet gentle kid. She hated to upset the little ones by saying she didn’t want to play with them, and they, well they like everyone else were drawn to her. Just like I was. That day I climbed up to the first overhanging branch, and was reaching down to help hoist her up when she lost her footing and slipped.

    You know the second when you see the panic, the fear in someone’s eyes before they fall? Kendall never had that look. She looked at me like she knew I’d save her. Catch her before she fell. The look of trust in me was overwhelming. I didn’t know what that look was back then, but I worked it out a few years later. She looked at me like she loved me. That was the first time I didn’t save her. That I let her get hurt. It wasn’t the last however. As she fell Kendall screamed my name. Over and Over she screamed for me after she hit the ground. I scurried down as fast as I could without falling, and landing on her. By the time I got down uncle Max was there cradling her in his arms stroking her hair. He didn’t look at me in a way that blamed me. He just looked sad.

    That was the first day I ever felt ashamed of myself. For the first time ever I felt deep, soul affecting shame. I won’t lie. I pussied out after that. I was scared seeing Kendall hurting so much. I was scared she’d blame me for not catching her. Be angry with me for not saving her, so I ran. I ran and ran until dad came to find me. I was hiding behind the tool shed on the far corner of the club house compound where I did nothing, but cry. It was the last time I remember crying until the night I tore my Kendall to shreds. The night I broke Kendall many years later I went home. I made my way through the dark streets. Opened and closed the back door. Went down the hall straight into my bedroom where I curled up on my bed, and screamed into my pillow soaking it with tears until I couldn’t cry, or scream anymore.

    The day Kendall fell my dad didn’t look angry with me, or ashamed of me for not saving her. He looked worried. Scared even. About me.
    “Boy. Where you been?”

    I couldn’t stop crying. I was close to throwing up I had been crying that long and hard.
    “I, I, I di-didn’t sa-save Kenny dad.” The tears dripped from my chin landing in big wet splats on my shorts. Lifting me to stand me in front of him dad crouched tilting my chin so that I could look into his face.

    Dads’ always been a big guy. Shit. A huge guy really. Six foot four, 240 pounds of muscle, and nothin but muscle. He’s got dark hair like mine, but so long it has to be tied in a permanent man-bun at the back of his head. He looks scary to some, but to me he’s always just been my dad.
    “Now listen hear, Boy. Dry those tears, wipe your nose, and get it together. That little girl has done nothing, but ask for you, for the past three hours. She told me, and her mom she needs to see you to make sure you’re okay. She’s worried about you boy, so get it