Zelda
The conversation with Carly did something to me, but I’m not sure it’s what she was going for.
I don’t care.
I realized I was starving when our food came—starving for the noodles in a delicate butter sauce topped with chicken so tender it melted in my mouth, but starving for more than that, too, starving to start everything. And not in Greenville.
Carly was right about one thing. I can’t start my life like this.
I can’t start my life wallowing in Greenville, in my parents’ basement, afraid every night that a drug dealer from the city will make a reappearance.
Even though I’m certain he won’t—my mom called the police station and asked for more frequent patrols around our neighborhood, and if the police sent him running last time…
By the time I was done with the food and my second glass of wine, I knew what I had to do. It was like the meal had wiped away the tired, dragging feeling that had haunted me since I walked away from Sawyer that night.
“Wow.” Carly looked me up and down as we walked back to her car. “You look like a changed woman.”
“I am a changed woman.” I’d looked her in the eye then. “Thanks for dragging me out of the house.”
She’d waved me off. “It’s no problem. If I don’t, who will?”
I will.
I will, and I’ll do it now.
When she dropped me off at home, I called the airline and rebooked my flight for one that left in two days, the earliest I could get. I texted Carly the news first. She must have been busy, because her reply was only !!!!!
Then I’d gone upstairs to where my parents were ensconced in their den.
“I’m leaving early.” I announced it in a voice so proud and determined I hardly recognized it as my own.
“Early where?” My mom had put her novel down in her lap.
“To Stanford. I’m not going to stay another two weeks. I want to leave…well, as soon as they can rebook my flight.”
“Really?” Her eyes had gone wide. “Have you packed?”
“I’m not taking much with me. I wanted to let you know.” I’d given her a big smile. “I’m going to start right now.”
She’d nodded her head.
“Good for you,” my dad said, and I’d taken that as a sign that it was time to get started.
Downstairs, I sat in front of my computer, typed out the final few sentences of my project, and sent it in, every last file. Degree completed.
Then I’d hauled out the two big suitcases I bought in case of international travel when I was in college.
I’d put a few things in, gathered up a few books, and decided I needed a better plan. But scribbling in a notebook for forty-five minutes made me realize I was tired from all the wine and that getting a good night’s sleep would be the best plan of attack.
This morning is when it all really begins.
I put another carefully folded top into the suitcase.
My flight leaves at seven-thirty tomorrow morning out of the big airport outside the city.
I don’t even care that they charged me a fee to change my ticket.
For the first time since the accident, I’m going to be going somewhere without the weight of the past on my shoulders.
Well, maybe a little weight.
The truth is that being timid, playing it safe, living at home—it didn’t matter in the end. Dangerous situations can still find you even if you live in the suburbs. And what would be the point of a life lived in fear of everything? And Sawyer—
A lump comes to my throat.
I could walk over there right now. He’s still staying with his aunt, as far as I can tell—the few times I’ve driven by, his car has been in the driveway. Every time it’s not, my heart sinks right down to my toes, then rebounds the next day when it’s back.
It’s better this way. I tell it to myself again, out of habit.
It’s better this way. Sawyer needs to spend time with his family, spend time with his dad, get back on his feet.
And I—I walked away from him after he put himself between me and those men.
Never mind that his younger self’s choices were what brought us there in the first place.
My younger self has made plenty of shitty choices, too.
I swallow down the lump, put one last shirt in the suitcase, and zip it tight.
Done.
I take both suitcases out to the living room and stand them up right in the center. I’ve left enough clothes to go for a run tomorrow morning before I head to the airport. Carly is dropping me off. Then I have my traveling outfit, and everything else is packed to go.
I take a slow turn around to survey the apartment—the cozy kitchen, the well-worn couch, the TV perched on the little entertainment center.
My heart aches a little bit. Yes, it seemed suffocating to live with my parents, but this has been a good compromise.
I have a nice savings account because of the cheap rent, and not everybody gets an extra few years with their parents.
That thought brings Sawyer's face to mind again, and I shove it back down. I cannot stay hung up on him.
Maybe I should go over and see him, one last time, and put things to rest before I fly across the country to start a new life.
I can see him by my side as I open the door to my new place. I don’t exactly have a new place yet, but I’ve got enough to stay in a cute hotel near Stanford for a couple of weeks while I figure it out. I can see him settling down on a couch we’ve chosen together.
But even though Carly thinks it’s a great idea, I can’t bring myself to go knock on his door.
He could anchor me here, and then I’d never get out.
What would I do then? Live in the basement apartment and work at the library forever?
Even if we got our own place, Greenville seems like something I need to be free from for a while, Sawyer or no Sawyer.
There’s no Sawyer for you now.
I sit down on the couch and lean back, sadness descending over my shoulders again.
My phone buzzes next to me.
Carly.
One last girls’ night before you’re gone?
I smile while I write her back.
You know what I need.