Writer’s note: I think you can all figure who this was written for, even though I changed the names, as with yesterday’s story. This is actually all I’ve written, even though I have tried, often, to continue past this point. I think I really need to start writing stories that have nothing to do with my real life, because my spy novels always go better than this kind of book.
I stood in my black dress from homecoming last year, watching Nick slam the trunk shut to his car through my living room window. I’d already said goodbye, I just didn’t want to let him go yet. So I watched, unsure of if he saw me there. Staring at his tyedied shirt, I secretly hoped he would turn around. Give a final glace to the house. To me. He must have known I was standing there. But he didn’t look, didn’t turn for closure. He just wrestled with his iPod in the passenger seat, snapped his seatbelt into place, and drove away. And I knew, somewhere inside me, that this goodbye would be our last. I had little hope for a future with him.
The feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn’t bad, exactly. It was just empty. Like he’d taken something with him that he hadn’t brought, but I didn’t know if I missed it yet.
“Are you gonna be ok, Ani?†My brother asked from the other room.
That poor kid knows me too well. “Yeah,†I said cheerfully. The word caught in my throat a bit, and that surprised me. I hadn’t really planned on crying. It was a passing thought earlier in the morning, but not something I actually wanted to carry out.
“Cuz I have a feeling that in a few seconds you’re gonna be bursting into tears.â€
“Nope. I’m fine.†And I was, but not really. When I walked past his computer to go to my room, I gave him a brilliant smile. Don’t ask me if it was fake, because I’m still not sure. “Well, that saga is over now. What’s next?â€
