Twenty-One Sunny
Leaving was supposed to be easy. It was part of the plan—spend the summer working on the ranch, earn some extra credit, then head back to school when the season ended. But now, standing in this room, staring at the half-packed suitcase on my bed, I feel like I’m about to leave something far more important behind. The thought of walking away from everything I’ve experienced here—the ranch, the wide-open fields, the friendships, and Levi.
Especially Levi.
It feels impossible. How do I go back to normal when so much has changed? When I’ve changed? This place, this summer, has become a part of me, and the idea of packing it all up, leaving it behind, makes my chest ache.
The quiet rustling of clothes and the soft thud of shoes being packed fills the space between Paisley and me as we move around our room in silence, the only sounds are the faint creaking of the floorboards and the occasional deep breath we both take to steady ourselves. Each item I pack feels like a piece of this summer slipping through my fingers, a memory being tucked away, folded, and stored to be revisited later.
I glance over at Paisley, her eyes heavy with sadness, her movements methodical, almost robotic. This wasn’t just another summer job for us. We’ve spent this time living a life we never expected—surrounded by open fields, sunrises that take our breath away, and friendships that feel like they will last forever. And then there’s Levi.
For the past week, he’s been distant. At first, I thought maybe he was just busy or tired, but it’s more than that. There’s something unspoken between us, a heaviness in the air whenever we’re together. We’ve been trying to enjoy these last days, trying to soak in every moment we have left, but it’s like there’s a dark cloud hanging over us. It follows us everywhere, when we’re laughing, when we’re tangled together in his bed. No matter how much we try to ignore it, the reality of me leaving is always there, hovering just out of reach, waiting to catch up with us.
I’ve tried talking about it—about going back to school—but every time I bring it up, Levi changes the subject. He’ll ask if I want to go for a ride or if I’ve seen the sunset, anything to avoid the conversation. It’s like he can’t bear to face it, and honestly, neither can I. We both know what’s coming, but we don’t know how to deal with it. Instead, we cling to what we have, pretending everything is fine, even though it feels like the ground is slipping out from under us.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. The way Levi looks at me, like I’m the center of his universe. He’s not just some charming cowboy—though he does that incredibly well—he’s sweet and funny, goofy in a way that always catches me off guard, but also strong and capable. He can fix a fence and make me laugh in the same breath. Without even trying, he made me fall head over heels. And now, I’m supposed to leave? Head back to school. The thought makes me sick to my stomach, like there’s a pit in my chest I can’t seem to fill. I can’t imagine being anywhere but by Levi’s side. He’s become my home, my safety, my everything.
“Hey, you okay Sun?”
Paisley’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring at the same pair of jeans for the last few minutes, unable to bring myself to pack them away.
“Yeah, just… thinking,”
I say, offering her a small, tight-lipped smile. She nods, understanding without needing to say a word. We both know what leaving means. Not just for me and Levi, but for everything we’ve built here, everything we’ve shared with our friends. This summer has changed us in ways we never saw coming, and neither of us are ready to let it go.
Just as I’m about to respond, our phones buzz in unison on the bed. I reach for mine, and Paisley does the same with hers. We exchange a look—one of those knowing looks we’ve perfected over the years—before opening the message. It’s from Colton,
Colton: meet us at the lake in 30 minutes. Don’t be late.
“The lake?”
Paisley raises an eyebrow. “What do you think they’re up to?”
“I have no idea,”
I say, shaking my head, though there’s a small smile tugging at my lips. Leave it to the guys to pull something on our last night here. I’m not sure whether to feel excited or a little nervous. We finish packing quickly, our earlier sadness replaced with a mix of curiosity…and maybe a bit of dread. We both know that saying goodbye is going to be hard, but maybe whatever the guys have planned will soften the blow. Maybe.
***
The drive to the lake is quiet, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels. The closer we get, the more that pit in my stomach grows. This lake has always been a special place for all of us, a spot where we’ve shared so many laughs and moments I’ll never forget.
Paisley and I jump out of my truck, and stand by the lake, staring out at the water as the last rays of the sun dip below the horizon. The silence between us isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy with the weight of everything we’re about to leave behind. My heart is in my throat, the pit in my stomach growing larger with every second.
But the sound of rustling leaves behind us pulls me out of my thoughts, then footsteps pounding toward us. I whip my head around just in time to see Bodhi and Knox barreling toward us at full speed, grinning like maniacs.
“No no no no no!”
I shriek, trying to back away, but it’s too late.
Bodhi reaches me first, scooping me up. I kick and flail, laughing so hard I can barely breathe. “Bo, put me down!”
I demand, but he’s having none of it.
“You’ve had this coming all summer, Sun!”
he declares, spinning me around before making a beeline for the lake.
“No! Don’t you dare!”
I squeal, but it’s no use. With a triumphant “YeeHaw”
Bodhi jumps into the lake, the cool water hitting me like a shock to the system.
I come up sputtering, wiping the water out of my eyes just in time to see Paisley get the same treatment from Knox. She surfaces beside me, her hair plastered to her face, but she’s laughing just as hard as I am.
“You guys are the worst!”
Paisley yells, playfully splashing Knox, who’s trying to dodge her attacks while grinning like a fool.
“No, we’re the best!”
Knox shoots back, diving under the water to escape her splashes.
The rest of the guys follow suit, jumping into the lake one after the other until it’s a full-blown water fight. Colton is trying to dunk Hunter, who’s fighting back with all his might, and Noah is laughing so hard he can barely stay afloat. The scene is pure chaos, full of laughter echoing across the water.
I glance over at Paisley, who’s now wrestling with Knox in the water, trying to push him under while he laughs and pretends to let her win. It’s impossible not to smile, not to get caught up in the infectious joy of it all. For a moment, everything feels perfect, like this is how it’s always supposed to be—just us, having fun, not a care in the world.
But then I look toward the shore, and my laughter fades.
Levi’s standing there, just watching. He’s smiling, but there’s something in his eyes—something that makes my heart ache. There’s sadness, a pain I know too well because I feel it too. This is hard for him, just as hard as it is for me. Without a second thought, I wade out of the water, my clothes clinging to me, water pouring off me in steady streams. But I don’t care. All I care about is getting to him, being close to him.
Levi watches me approach, his smile faltering slightly, and I can see the emotions he’s trying so hard to keep in check. His eyes flicker with a sadness that’s mirrored in my own heart, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of everything we’ve been avoiding is pressing down on both of us.
“Hey, sugar,”
he says softly, but his voice cracks just enough to betray him.
I don’t say anything. I can’t. The lump in my throat is too big, the words too tangled in my chest to even try. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on as if letting go would mean losing him forever. He buries his face in my shoulder, his arms tightening around me like I’m the only thing keeping him grounded, and for a few breaths, it’s just us—clinging to each other like we’re trying to freeze time, like we’re both afraid that once we let go, everything will fall apart.
“I’m not good at goodbyes,”
he whispers, his breath warm against my skin, and the crack in his voice nearly undoes me.
“It’s not goodbye,”
I manage to say, my voice steady despite the tears burning at the corners of my eyes.
“It’s just a…see you soon.”
But he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. I can feel the hesitation in the way he holds me, like there’s so much more he wants to say, but the words are stuck somewhere deep inside him, trapped under the weight of everything we’ve been trying to avoid. And God, I wish I could tell him everything—tell him how much I love him, how much he means to me. But just like him, the words are tangled in fear. Fear of what comes next.
And then, his lips find mine.
It’s slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of me, the taste of me, the way our bodies fit so perfectly together. His hands move to cup my face, his fingers trembling slightly as they trace the line of my jaw, and I can feel the emotion behind every touch, every movement. This isn’t just a kiss—it’s a see you soon, even if neither of us can say it out loud.
I kiss him back with everything I have, my hands tangling in his hair as if I can somehow keep him with me just by holding on tighter. His lips are soft but urgent, the kiss deepening like we’re both trying to make this moment last forever. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s fighting to keep control, but there’s a desperation in the way he’s kissing me, like he’s afraid this might be the last time.
The thought makes something break inside me, and I press myself closer to him, pouring everything I feel into the kiss—the love, the fear, the sadness. I can taste the salt of my own tears on his lips, and when he finally pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against mine, we’re both breathing hard, the air between us thick with everything we can’t say.
For a moment, we just stand there, our foreheads touching, our breaths mingling, neither of us willing to break the fragile silence. His thumb brushes my cheek, wiping away a tear, and when I look into his eyes, I can see the same heartbreak reflected back at me. I hold him tighter, praying that this moment won’t end.
But it’s inevitable. I’m leaving tomorrow.