Their Kryptonite

“I’m going back to Italy on the 15^th,” Dahlia said, and the smile finally escaped her face. Richie froze and dropped the rag he was holding on the floor. He turned around slowly. The loud conversations in the café faded into background noise as if the two of them were the only ones inside.

“The 15^th of this month?” he asked. He picked up the rag and started wiping down the same spot over and over.

“I know it’s soon, but I think it’s the right time.” He could feel her glancing at him, but he was frowning at the counter, unmoving.

“When did you decide?”

“Just a couple of days ago. I talked to my sister about it for a while and finally decided to go back.”

“I thought Jeri wanted you to stay for the summer,” he said, finally looking into her green eyes. “What about your team?”

“She did. Plans change.” This time, Dahlia looked away and stared down at her feet. He wasn’t sure about her team, but he knew her coach would be happy for her. The opportunity to play in Italy was rare, and she had already almost missed it once last year. Dahlia was not the type of person who was afraid of taking risks.

“Well, change can be good.” He reached over and pried the rag from the tight grip of her hands and tossed it into the sink. He felt like the cup that had shattered on the floor earlier, but he swept the emotions away and smiled at her. “It won’t be the same here without you.”

 

⁛

Richie had watched the back of Dahlia’s jersey for so long that he could see the number twenty engraved on his lids when he closed his eyes. He was sitting next to her sister, Jeri, who was cheering much louder than he was. Dahlia passed the soccer ball to her teammate and ran up the field, positioning herself for the goal.

            “Pass the ball!” Jeri yelled.

            Dahlia finally got the ball, aimed for the goal, and sent the ball soaring. The ball narrowly missed the net and pinged against the post, and bounced back onto the field. Jeri groaned and gripped the edge of her seat. Richie elbowed her and said, “Maybe next time.”

            Jeri leaned back in her seat. “Next time in Italy, maybe.” She meant it as a joke, but Richie heard the crack in her voice that betrayed her. She had only been separated from Dahlia once since they started going to college. Dahlia was all she had left, and she was losing her now, too.

The game’s final whistle rang out in the cold air, signaling the end. Richie stood up and stretched. His legs were sore after ninety minutes of sitting on the bleachers. They talked to a couple of other spectators about the game. Richie snuck glances over at Jeri, watching her try to hold herself together. She kept cracking her knuckles repeatedly, and she watched Dahlia as she said goodbye to her teammates.

When the team began to separate, they walked over to the other side of the field. Richie strode ahead of Jeri. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and his eyes locked on Dahlia. He hopped down the last few steps when she reached the fence to meet her in the middle. He gripped the top rails of the fence and beamed at her.

“Hey, you did great,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling down at the turf. “I missed the last goal, though.”

He leaned into the fence. “Yeah, too bad.”

She avoided his eyes, but her body leaned in towards his, all the same. She was like a magnet he couldn’t avoid, no matter how hard they tried. But Dahlia was always trying to detach herself from the pull.

“You’ll score more in Italy,” a voice said behind him. Richie turned around and saw another of Dahlia’s teammates striding toward them.

“Can you believe we’re losing our star player?” she asked.

“I’m sure everyone in Italy is celebrating,” Richie said. She had already stopped paying attention and hopped over the fence to talk to Dahlia. He watched her eyes brighten like streetlights while they made plans.

Jeri finally sidled up next to Richie, watching Dahlia walk away to her friends. She nudged his arm. “You ready to go?”

Richie nodded, and he slung his arm over her shoulder as they walked back to her car. Jeri’s shoulders were tense. She looked back once to see Dahlia laughing with her friends. She wanted to join them to celebrate, but she had spent the last few days pretending to be happy and strong for her sister. She needed one night without pretenses. Besides, Dahlia hadn’t thought to invite her either way.

 

⁛

 

The night before Dahlia’s flight, the girls ran around their apartment, double-checking every list they had made. When Jeri realized they would be awake for much longer than she had predicted, she started brewing coffee. She asked Dahlia if she wanted a cup.

“Black coffee sucks around here. I’ll wait until I land.” Dahlia said, laughing.

Jeri smiled, but she walked back to the kitchen quickly. She didn’t want to cry. She felt her heart ripping in two, even though she could hear the excitement in Dahlia’s every move.

She walked back into what used to be their living room and sat on the only available corner of the couch. She sipped her coffee and watched Dahlia pack the last few items. She zipped up the final suitcase after packing her favorite pair of cleats.

“Hopefully, I can score with these,” she said. She sat down on top of her suitcase and put her chin in her hands, finally looking at Jeri. “Will you visit?”

“I’ll have to find time off to go,” Dahlia’s smile wavered, but before she could respond, Jeri said, “The quicker you score a goal, the more motivated I’ll be to ask.”

“You’re the worst!” Dahlia looked around for the closest item of clothing she could find and threw it at her. Jeri fell off the couch, laughing. They both lay on the rug for a while, and then Jeri looked over and saw the journal.

She remembered the day she had given it to Dahlia, the year they had finally moved away from home together. Dahlia had been about to leave for the summer to a soccer camp in Italy. That time, she had been the one in tears. She was considering canceling her trip when Jeri gave her the journal full of childhood pictures, memories, and the last note their parents had written to them. When she came back from Italy that summer, completely changed, she had told Jeri that the journal was what kept her going.

“You’re not taking it?” she asked. She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice wavered.

“Taking what?” Dahlia’s eyes were already closing.

“Never mind. Go to sleep.” She grabbed a blanket from the basket and draped it over her body. She turned off the lights, but before she went to her room, she walked back to the couch. She picked up Dahlia’s journal and placed it next to her.

 

⁛

 

            Jeri heard chaos outside her room the following day. Doors and drawers were being slammed, and she heard Dahlia throwing things on the floor. She got ready as fast as she could and walked out.

“You’re gonna miss your flight,” she called. “Let’s go –” but before she could finish, Dahlia ran into her. She had been crying, but she looked like she was panicking now.

“I can’t find it anywhere,” she cried, running her hands through her hair.

“What are you looking for?”

“My journal! I keep my bracelet in it,” her voice got more frantic and high-pitched with each word.

“The bracelets we made?”

She just glared at her and then stomped away. “What other bracelet would I be talking about? I’m just not going to leave today.” She threw herself on the couch.

Jeri broke out into laughter. Dahlia’s mouth gaped open, and she gawked at her. Finally, Jeri could control herself enough to walk over to the table. She checked underneath and pulled the journal out from under the table.

Dahlia ran over and snatched it away, and the tears in her mossy eyes spilled. “I thought I had lost it.”

“You’ll never lose it,” Jeri said and wrapped her arms around her sister, holding on as tight as possible.

 

⁛

 

            The next day, Jeri sat at the counter at the café. Richie kept going back and forth between checking on her and the other customers. She was so quiet, and every smile was half-hearted. Finally, when he had a break, they went to the lot behind the café.

            They were sitting in the bed of his truck, eating leftover sandwiches. She was staring out towards the coast, wondering where Dahlia was, who she was with.

            “Do you miss her yet?”

            “Hardly,” she laughed. She fidgeted with the frayed bracelet on her wrist, which all three of them had made together. “I wore it every day, you know?” her voice was so soft, he thought he imagined it.

            “I never wore mine.”

            “Neither did Dahlia,” she said. “But she kept it in her journal all that time.”

            He raised his eyebrows. “I never knew.” He sighed and put his sandwich down. “I didn’t want to ruin it, you know? I was afraid I would mess it up.”

            Jeri crossed her arms and looked straight at him. “That’s how I felt.” She grabbed one of the loose threads and pulled the frayed bracelet off her wrist. “But sometimes, there are things you can’t hold on to anymore.” Her voice cracked. “I’m not losing her if I let her go.”

            “It’s not easy.” He watched Jeri swipe her fingers under her eyes. “Nobody is invincible, I guess. Not even you,” he smiled.

She pictured Dahlia’s emerald eyes, the color of kryptonite. Dahlia had always been her weak spot, but she knew she could be strong even if she was gone. “Things don’t always work out the way you want them to, Rich.”

“I’m still here,” he said.

“I know.” Jeri looked back to the coast. They finished the rest of their lunch in silence, reminiscing their memories with Dahlia. They were already floating away like leaves in the wind.

He walked her to her car and opened the door. Before she closed the door, he stopped her.

“I know you don’t want to hold on to the past, but I have something for you.” He handed her his rope bracelet. It still looked perfect. But she was starting to realize she couldn’t have perfection without disappointment.

Jeri hesitated, then took the bracelet. She didn’t put it on, but she wrapped it around her keyring. When she looked back up at him, her smile was watery. Her dark eyes glistened.

“Will you call me later?” he asked.

She looked at her steering wheel and gripped it tightly. “Maybe after work.”

He nodded and shut the door. He stepped back and watched Jeri drive away, knowing she wasn’t looking at him in her rearview mirror. He watched until her car was just a distant memory on the empty street.