“And why not be an hour away from your mother?”
“I mean, she’s not going for that as much as I thought she would.”
“Meeting halfway wouldn't be terrible for either of us to have dinner or something.”
“Yeah, if two and a half hours of driving isn’t considered ‘terrible.’ And if we don't hit traffic.”
Her smile faltered. “Well, at least you can tell your mom you’ll still see her every other weekend. Or once a month. And you’re close enough to get back quick in case of emergencies.”
I paused. “Are you trying to make her flood this town with her own tears?”
She roared with laughter. “It’ll work out, Rae. Come on.”
I sighed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. I know.”
Allison released my hand and I leaned back in the wooden booth. As I gazed out over the water to the left of us, I felt uncertainty bloom in my stomach. It made me feel sick. My appetite for ice cream was gone. The more I talked about school, the more fearful I was of it. The more I heard my mother cry, the more I felt as if I was making a wrong decision.
I sighed. “How am I going to get through with you and Michael six hours away?”
Allison smiled weakly. “We can make things work. We can do this, okay? Weekends together. Parties at Stanford you can come to. When we all come home for holidays and stuff. We’ll see one another more than you think.”
But, is that enough? “Yeah. Sure.”
“Rae.”
I waved my hand in the air. “It’s fine. Really.”
“It’s not fine. Something’s on your mind.”
“I’m just worried. It’s nothing. I’ll sleep it off.”
“Talk to me, Rae.”
I groaned. “It’s just all easier said than done, you know? I mean, sure, the beginning of the semester might be easy enough. But, what happens once classes ramp up? What happens when you get bogged down with reading? And schoolwork? I mean, think about all the times I’ve come over and interrupted you doing homework, Allison.”
She looked at me, but she didn’t speak.
“Think about all the times I’ve had to track you and Michael down in order to spend time with you.”
“Rae, it’s not--”
I shook my head. “I’m not trying to be a downer. But I am trying to be a realist. This is a massive change. And everyone’s acting like things will be hunky dory.”
“I mean, do you want me to tell you that we’ll never see one another and eventually drift apart? Is that going to make you feel any better?”
I snickered. “I don’t know. Is that what’s going to happen?”
I searched Allison’s eyes for a signal. Or a sign. Anything to tell me my paranoia wasn’t grounded in anything real. But all she did was shrug. A shrug. My best friend of years and years, and she didn’t even know if we’d be able to preserve our friendship. I slumped back into my chair and stared back out over the ocean. I didn’t know where the boys were, and I didn’t care. I was losing my best friend. My life. Leaving it all behind for a school I wasn’t even sure I wanted to attend. The last semester of our senior year changed so much. Allison and Michael grew even closer. Clint and I spent every waking moment together. He was talking about his future plans with starlight growing in his eyes. He practically bubbled over the brim with excitement!
And then there was me. Dreading every second. Counting down the days until doomsday. Still not sure about the decisions I’d made with my life. Every plan I laid out before myself had been obliterated when Allison got into Stanford. No apartment-sharing for us. Because fuck-only-knew I’d never make it into a school like that with my mediocre grades. And there weren’t any community colleges around Stanford that had a graphics design associate’s.
So there went the shared apartment.
Now I had all this money saved up and nothing to do with it. If I got a place of my own, I’d eat through it in three months before I’d be broke. I was two weeks away from my last day on a job I’d had for years. I was three weeks away from packing up my things and moving into a dorm room that would house another stranger under its roof with me. Instead of Allison, in our apartment, like we had always planned.
Life had already changed quickly around us. And I knew it wouldn't stop.
Which meant there wasn’t a damn thing any of us could do to stop it.
2
Clinton
“This fucking traffic. Come on!”
Michael honked the horn in his SUV as we sat in standstill traffic. The girls had been at the boardwalk by themselves for damn near forty minutes, and we couldn't get there to save our lives. Despite the windows being rolled down and the classic rock station turned up, I shifted in my seat. My eyes darted around. My pulse ticked up.
I wanted this to be a stress-free day for Rae.
And it was turning into anything but that.
“What the hell is all this traffic about?” Michael asked.
I shrugged. “Who the fuck knows?”
“I mean, wouldn't they have cleared it by now if it was an accident? Do you see any orange cones for construction?”
“We’ll get there when we get there. Not much we can do unless we want to pull over and walk.”
He snickered. “Had we done that before, we’d already be there by now.”
“Well, in a few weeks you guys won’t be here to experience any of it.”
Mike put his car in park. Never a good sign when sitting in traffic. But, I knew exactly what I had said to trigger his response. I felt him turn to me, but I refused to meet his stare. Because I wasn’t ready for the question about to fly out of his face.
“Clint?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, Mike.”
“Clint. Look at me.”
“No, thanks.”
“You going to man up and have this conversation? Or am I going to have to pull it out of you?”
I snickered. “I’d like to see you try.”
And when I rolled my eyes over to his, he grinned.
“Gotcha.”
My face fell. “You’re a fucking child.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well. I’m a manchild who’s worried about my best friend.”
I’d never get used to him calling me that.
“You know, that title is usually designated for--”
He waved his hand in the air. “Yeah, I know. You always remind me. Best friends are reserved for those who have known each other the longest. But not this time. I consider you a very good friend. A best friend. Because you’re awesome, and I like you, and you fit in with our group, and you make Rae happy, and I don’t mind shooting the shit with you.”
I grinned. “Thanks.”
“So time to shoot the shit since we’re stuck in traffic.”
My grin fell. “No, thanks.”
“Dude, come on. It’s painfully obvious you haven’t made a decision yet. Why not?”
“Why the fuck is it so hot in your car right now? Fucking hell.”
“The air conditioning in my car gave out yesterday. Got an appointment for tomorrow to get it fixed.”
“Couldn't have told me that before we decided to get trapped in your black box of sweltering heat?”
He chuckled. “Nice try at a diversion. But it’s not working.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, just like your A.C. Fuck!”
I stuck my head out the window. And to my shock, it was cooler outside with the sun burning the top of my head than it was inside his car. His leather seats made my skin stick to the fabric. I breathed in deeply as sweat dripped down my face. And since my head was out the window, I tried to see what the fuck the hold-up was.
Then my phone vibrated in my board shorts’ pocket.
“That Rae?” Mike asked.
I sat down. “Probably.”
“What does she want?”
I pulled my phone out and looked at the text.
Rae: You guys close? Pretty sure I pissed Allison off with more college talk.
I sighed as my fingers flew over the screen.
Me: At least you’ve made a decision. Mike’s about to wind up and knock it out of the park with how bullshit it is that I haven’t made a decision yet.
I sent the message off and promptly got one back.
Rae: I mean, it would be nice for you to make one. You know, so I know how to declare my housing. Which I have to submit by the end of next week. Just letting you know.
I rolled my eyes and put my phone away. But I felt Mike’s eyes on me. I jammed myself against the door, hanging my arm out as Aerosmith came on over the radio. I reached over and turned it up, trying to drown out his eyes with music. I bobbed my head and murmured the words. Thanking my fucking stars that traffic was slowly starting to move. For two whole blocks.
Until it stopped again.
“Fucking hell!” I exclaimed.
Mike snickered. “Maybe if you talk about your game plan for August, the traffic will pick up as a reward for your service.”
I sighed. “You’re not going to stop riding me about this, are you?”
“Not at all.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Have you figured out what you’re going to do?”
“You’ll have to be a bit more specific with that request.”
“Okay. Did you apply to college? Or are you still sticking with the whole ‘no college’ deal?”
I sighed. “No. I didn’t apply to college. School isn’t for me. Not even some pointless two-year school.”