Chapter Eighteen #2
At first, I think I’m hallucinating his voice. Then, I crane my head in his direction, and I see him sprinting down the gravel road leading from my house to his. My heart speeds up, and my limbs turn jittery with a mixture of excitement and misery.
It takes him less than thirty seconds to get here. He jogs up the steps of the porch, cheeks flushed with exertion, eyes glittering.
“Where have you been?” he demands.
I frown. “What?”
“You didn’t come to say goodbye,” he accuses, sounding almost childish.
I blink, confused. “Did you want me to?”
“Did I want you to,” he echoes, scoffing. “Get your ass over here, Flame.” He opens his arms.
I stand and dart into them, not strong enough to resist the comfort.
It’s a nearly insurmountable effort to keep from bursting into tears, but I manage.
I’m sure I’ll see him again—over the summers, when he comes to visit for holidays…
it’s not like he’ll be completely gone, but it feels that way right now.
We see each other every day in passing, and we spend time together at least a couple times a week.
Knowing that’s about to disappear sucks.
“I got you something,” he says, pulling back. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a dark, rectangular box. A jewelry box, I realize.
My eyebrows raise when he presents it to me. I take it hesitantly, crack it open, and then immediately shut it again—because the emotions washing over me at the single glimpse are just too much.
Max’s features crumple. “Oh, fuck. You hate it, don’t you? You—”
“No!” I say, a little too loudly. Swallowing, I manage to muster enough composure to open the box and look in it again.
The necklace that sits in the center of a dark cushion is beautiful.
It’s made of silver or white gold, in the shape of the Sagitta constellation.
Each star is represented by small, glittering diamonds, like stars in the night’s sky.
I try really, really hard not to cry, but it’s impossible.
I’m going to miss this boy so much, I’m physically sick with it.
“Oh no—don’t cry. I’ll, uh, get you something else,” he says, sounding panicked. Embarrassing tears roll down my cheeks, betraying my emotions. Try as I do to stop them, I just can’t.
“It’s not—” I break off with a small sob “—the necklace. It’s you.”
“Me?” Max frowns, wrapping his hands around my arms. His eyes search mine. “What did I do?”
“You’re—” hiccup, “leaving.” I shake my head. “God, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry. It’s just…” You’re the only person who’s been kind to me, who’s spent time with me, and who’s made me feel seen. “I’ll miss you.”
“Oh,” Max says. “Aw, fuck. C’mere, Flame.
” He wraps his arms around me again, not seeming to care when my tears soak the material of his shirt.
“I’m not going far, just to college. And I’ll be back often.
Thanksgiving’s just a few months away—then, a nice, long break for Christmas.
Then, Easter and spring break, and then summer. You’ll see me all the time.”
I shake my head miserably. “I won’t.”
“You will,” he counters.
“I won’t,” I insist. “No more late nights, or reading, or doing math, science, or English. I won’t.”
Max exhales a long breath. Takes a step back.
“You can always call me,” he says. “Literally any time. And text me. If you need help with homework or test prep, tell me. If I need help with essays—which, let’s face it, I will—I’ll be texting you.
But not just for that. If someone’s bothering you, tell me.
Being far away doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop protecting you. Got that?”
I shouldn’t believe his words. He’s going to have a completely new life in college—new friends, new activities, less time to spend with the young, annoying groundkeepers’ daughter.
But, for the sake of avoiding a complete mental breakdown, I allow myself a moment to believe it—just one moment.
Only long enough to clear the tears from my eyes and help me calm down a touch.
“Got it?” Max repeats, his tone a bit stronger, more commanding. It’s the same one he uses when he’s playing sports and barking orders at his teammates.
I nod.
“Now, turn around and let me put on your gift. Nobody was selling the right shape, so I had to get it custom-made.”
I almost burst into tears again. I’m never going to have a friend or a crush that matches up to Max. He’s thoughtful, kind, funny, and mean when he needs to be. He’s perfect.
I hand him the box, turn around, and pull my hair over my shoulder. A cool weight touches my neck as Max puts on the necklace and closes the clasp. I finger it, trying not to cry again.
“Now, give me a hug,” he requests.
I turn around and fling my arms around him. He chuckles, resting his chin on my head. The height difference between us is comical, but I still feel so protected in his arms.
“Text me,” he says. “And I’ll text you. Seriously, Flame. This isn’t goodbye. Okay?”
I nod, letting myself feel a flash of hope. “Okay.”